A Love in Darkness Wrought
an excerpt

Gavin glared at the uniformed man checking the bonds around his wrists. He had dull eyes and a stench that made Gavin wish he was back in the slums of Cobblesfield. “Come on, they’re tight, get on with it,” he muttered, but the man either didn’t hear or didn’t care, and took his own damnable time checking the ropes that were, indeed, tight enough to be rubbing Gavin’s skin raw. He turned his head so he could talk into the man pressed against him, back-to-back. “Tell me I didn’t walk right into this,” he asked.

The bulky man turned his head and grunted. “Sure, boss. You didn’t walk right into it. You fell. Hard,” he said.

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Thanks a lot, Jacky. You’re all the help a man could want.”

“I aim to please. Can you see Ari from where you are? He looked awfully bad when we left the cell.”

Holding his breath to avoid the smell that still lingered even though the guardsman who had carried it had at long last moved away, Gavin scanned the group of milling people standing on the road. Most of them were guardsmen, in the blue uniforms of the Cobblesfield militia. One, older and fatter than the others, had green sleeves on his uniform and a ridiculously feathered hat, showing him to be the commanding officer of this motley group. Among this troupe, the members of his small gang stood out like oranges among apples. Joven was still struggling against his captors, a feat that Gavin wondered at - he wished he was still young enough to struggle even after three days of captivity. One of the guardsmen turned around, another man in his arms - this one thin and pale, barely standing under his own power. Ari. He’d been sick even before the plan went to hell and landed them in cold, dank cells, which had of course done anything but help. He looked as if he was about to faint.

Gavin turned back to Jack. “He’ll be fine. The fresh air will do him good…better than that rat-hole of a prison, anyway.”

“Yeah…you’re right…” the larger man replied.

A bittersweet smile crossed Gavin’s face at the worry in his voice. “Come on, you have so little faith in your best friend? You’ve known him too long to worry like that. He’s stronger than he looks,” he said.

Before Jack could answer, the fat officer stomped over and stopped in front of Gavin. He braced himself, but the man just watched him for a long moment. Gavin felt a twinge of real worry go through him for the first time since this whole ordeal had started - despite the rolls of fat that surrounded them, those eyes were intelligent…more intelligent than they had any right to be. This man was trouble.

“So. You’re the leader of this…gang.” He pronounced the last word with inordinate levels of irony, conveying his disdain for Gavin’s little group.

Gavin straightened as much as his bonds allowed and met the man’s eyes head on. “Yes. I am.”

“Do you know where you’re going, little gang leader?” he asked, tone still dripping with disrespect.

“I suspect wherever you’re taking me…sir.” Gavin reflected the man’s tone right back at him.

The man’s eyes narrowed, such as they could, but before he could respond, one of his men came up waving a piece of parchment in his face. “Captain Nero! Captain Nero, sir! Message for you!” he shouted.

The captain turned and snatched the paper from the guardsmen, scanning it quickly. “Well, well…seems as if your day is about to get even better,” he said, grinning in a way Gavin didn’t like. Not at all.

“And why’s that, sir?”

“You see that crossroads there?” Nero pointed, and Gavin strained against his bonds to see over his shoulder. “We continue going south, and you’ll end up in a nice warm little hovel, working as a slave in one of the mineral pits. But there’s been a little change of plans. We’re not going south - we’re going west.”

Gavin didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t help it. “And what happens to us if we go west?”

“Let’s just say that it’ll make slavery look like a holiday to the ocean.” And with that, Captain Nero turned away, stridently ordering his men to get the prisoners up and moving.

“Jacky…what’s west?” Gavin whispered, keeping a low tone.

“Boss, I don’t think you want to know,” Jack replied, voice entirely void of humor.

“The worse it is, the more I’m motivated to find us a workable escape plan, and you know it. Now give it to me.” Gavin listened, stoic, as Jack detailed a fate that gave him all the motivation he could possibly need. Ever. He had barely finished when a guardsmen - one that, thank all the gods, smelled marginally better than the first one - grabbed him roughly by the arm and began dragging him along the road, setting a fast pace that Gavin hoped he wasn’t planning on continuing. Thieves may be good runners, but they’re made for sprints, not marathons, and he needed to think. He had to get them out of this, no matter what it took. He had to make up for failing his companions - his men - so dismally. Had to.

When they finally stopped for a break, Gavin was panting heavily and would happily have given his right hand for a drink of the water the guardsmen were pouring over their heads in an attempt to cool down. Nero had given orders to throw the four of them to the ground in the middle of the camp, reasoning - correctly - that there was no way they could pull anything in broad daylight surrounded by ten alert guardsmen and himself, no matter how much they talked.

Gavin turned to Ari first. The brisk march had been the last thing the poor man needed, and he’d even had to be carried the last hour or so, none too gently hoisted on the shoulders of one guardsman after another. His already pale face now had a distinct greenish tint, and he was slumped on the ground just as he’d been thrown, making no effort to move.

“Ari? Are you with us?” Gavin asked softly, reaching out a hand to touch his friend’s burning forehead. The smaller man shifted and moaned a bit, but didn’t open his eyes.

“He’s going to die.”

Gavin felt the pain of the statement even as he was turning around to refute it. “Joven, you’re not helping. He’ll be fine.”

The dark boy was looking at him with fire in his eyes. “He’s going to die just like Ethan died, and it’s going to be your fault.”

Jack spun and smacked Joven in the head with his bound fists, eliciting a few shouts from the guardsmen. “Ethan wasn’t Gavin’s fault, and you know that, boy. Leave him be,” he said.

“It was his fault! It was his plan, and I knew it wasn’t going to work,” Joven shot back, rubbing at his head where Jack had hit him.

Gavin sighed heavily and looked at Jack. “He’s right, you know. It was all my idea. We shouldn’t have touched the Meyers. But you know how it’s been lately, everyone extra careful, locking their doors at night, barring the windows. You know how long it had been since we had a good take.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, boss. I know,” Jack said, giving him a sympathetic look that hurt almost worst than Joven’s barbs. Gavin fought back the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. They’d paid Ethan such respects as they could back in prison, and he’d hoped the worst of it was over. But it seemed that Joven wasn’t ready to let it go, and Gavin couldn’t say he blamed him.

“It’s…all right…Ethan…died…a good death…” Ari’s halting speech took them all by surprise, and Gavin turned back to their ill companion.

“And you, friend?” Gavin asked, choosing his words carefully.

Ari blinked and forced himself to focus on Gavin’s face. “Not yet, I think…do we know where…they’re taking us?” he asked.

Gavin and Jack exchanged a glance. “No, Ari. We’re right on the outskirts of the forest, about to cross the bridge over the river. They could be taking us anywhere,” Gavin answered. “You just rest now. I’ll get us out of this. I swear it.”

“Liar! You couldn’t get us out of prison, and you won’t be able to get us out of this either!” Joven growled through clenched teeth.

Jack had had enough. “Listen up, you little brat! You would still be getting caught picking beggar’s pockets if it weren’t for Gavin here. You might want to be showing a little more respect for the man who’s given you a home for the past few seasons, all out of the goodness of his heart. We should have left you there to rot on the streets!”

Gavin wished his hands were free so he could rub his temples. As it was, his head pounded away freely. “Thank you, Jacky,” he said, wondering yet again at the big man’s penchant for defending his honor. “Joven, I understand what you’re feeling, and I’m sorry. I’ve already said that. But there’s nothing I can do about it except try and deal with the situation we’ve been given, got it? I can’t change what happened. Let it go. I need you to do your part in getting us free.”

“Yeah, well maybe I don’t want to do my part. Maybe I’m better off being a good little prisoner…less chance of dying that way. At least this officer knows how to handle his men!” Joven said. Gavin winced, not at the words, but at what he knew was coming now. That was the last straw for Jack, and he flew at the younger boy, pinning him to the ground and shouting something about respect and honor. The guardsmen finally had to come in and break them apart, and they hauled Joven away, depositing him on a rock surrounded by four guards, a good distance away from the others. He sat glaring at Gavin and Jack, his swarthy features twisted into an ugly mess by his anger.

Jack shot Gavin a familiar look. Gavin sighed. “I know. Believe me, I know. But I’m sorry, Jacky, I’m not willing to leave him. He’s one of us.”

“Because you say so, maybe, but not in any other way,” Jack replied, his voice deadly serious. He let his words hang in the air for a long moment, then went to kneel in front of Ari, fussing over him like a worried mother. Gavin watched the two men talking, watched as Jack said something that made Ari laugh, then apologized hastily when the laughter sent Ari into a fit of coughing. Jack was right. The group had been the four of them for near five years now: himself, Jack, Ari, and Ethan. They had worked smart on the streets of Cobblesfield, going after those prime takes that were big enough to be worth the trouble, but small enough to avoid any major militia attention. They didn’t need a fifth member. They didn’t want a fifth member. But, in the end, Gavin hadn’t been given that choice. He looked over at the brooding youth on the rock, all churning emotion and wounded pride, and wished that he’d never laid eyes on him at all.

But that kind of thinking wasn’t getting him anywhere. Gavin stood up and eyed the forest before them. It was old, the trees thick and dark. There would be opportunities in there - there always were. It was just a matter of being ready to take those chances at exactly the right moment. His mind began to settle into the old, familiar patterns - counting guardsmen, remembering their habits, their faces, attempting to judge this Captain Nero’s style, taking into account the status of his men - and the beginnings of a plan began to form in his mind. He may not have been able to keep Ethan from a fate he didn’t deserve, but he sure as all hells wasn’t going to fail the others the same way.