5 The Lord of the Alleys

Demenik travelled the alley alone, walking deeper into the dark corridor with a new spring in his step and a grin on his face. His feet slipped inside the scuffed boots he had purchased. I can feel the blisters starting to form, but that's better than worrying about stepping on metal and glass with my bare feet.

His step slowed as he reached the door farthest from the street, at the end of the dark alley. The walls of the small building were painted black with charcoal. A dark, metal-studded door was the only entrance. In front of it stood a gigantic man with bare, heavily muscled arms and a bald scarred head, his arms folded and eyebrows furrowed into an unwelcoming expression. Demenik stopped a respectful distance from the man and looked at the ground.

Minutes passed. Demenik continued to look at the ground, inspecting the stitching on his stained tan boots. I will have to trim a few loose threads near the toe so they don't pull out fully. I doubt they are waterproof, even though the man said they were. I wonder-

"What do you want?" The giant's voice was dark and raspy, like a heavy stone being dragged over metal.

Demenik looked up from his boots and paused to be certain that the man was talking to him. It was impossible to know for certain. The man continued to glare past him with the same menacing look.

"I would like to meet Lord Caladan."

The guard snorted. "You dumb in the head, boy?"

"No."

"Must be." He blinked slowly and lowered his gaze to glare at Demenik. "Nobody likes to meet him. Those what have to show up in front of him run to get here, but they would give everything they own to run back to their homes and avoid entering this building."

Demenik nodded.

"Nobody likes to meet him."

"I would."

"Go away." The guard scowled and looked past the boy.

Demenik remained where he was and focused on his boots once more.

Minutes passed, then hours. Demenik hunched down against the far wall and pulled the rags that served as both cloak and blanket around him. He removed half an apple and bit into it. He chewed slowly, keeping his attention on the fruit in his hand. When he swallowed, he glanced at the giant once more.

The man watched him with a blank expression.

Demenik finished the apple. There was a sound and a small metal panel slid open and a voice murmured through it. The giant nodded. The panel closed and the door opened with a screech.

"Well, boy, looks like you're gonna get your wish." The guard stepped to one side and pointed at the opening. "Get your ass in there. Lord Caladan will see you."

Demenik stood and approached. As he got close, the giant rumbled at him. "You don't even look scared."

I'm not. Demenik walked past him and entered the building.

The door closed and a short, hunched man with wisps of stringy white hair looked at him. "This way." He limped forward.

Demenik was led to a large, dark room. Fur pelts covered the walls. Torches cast flickering light and produced black smoke while they burned in metal holders. A massive wood table sat in the middle of the room. There were men and women scattered around the room, all of them dressed in heavy cloth with fur trim. At the opposite end of the table, the man known as Lord Caladan reclined on a large chair covered in black fur. He sat with one leg draped over the arm, a goblet dangling from his hand. His long black hair was well-groomed, as was his heavy beard. Demenik gauged that he was taller and more muscular than the man standing guard outside. He raised the goblet to his lips and drank, his eyes expressionless as Demenik stood at the far end of the table.

"What's your name, lad?"

"Demenik, Your Grace."

"Your Grace!" Lord Caladan laughed and leaned forward to set the goblet on the table. "You wait outside all day just to come in and insult me?"

"No."

The lord leaned forward and raised one eyebrow. "You don't seem properly afraid of me. I know you're not new to the alley." He tapped his head with a knuckle and looked at the bent man beside the boy. "Is he damaged in the head, then?"

"No, Lord. The boy's brain works properly, by all accounts."

"Did you hear that, lad? Lord. Not Grace. I'm no stinking king."

Demenik bowed to acknowledge the correction.

Lord Caladan scratched his temple and looked at the old man once more. "What have you learned of this lad?"

"Very little. His name is Demenik and he came to the alley seven months ago. He has few friends and spends his days as most do, trying to find enough food to survive and a warm spot in the alley to sleep at night."

"You said he has few friends which implies at least some. Any names that I would recognize?"

"Oak, Stick, and Mouse are known to us."

"Yet Demenik is not. Interesting. He leads them."

The bent man frowned and shook his head. "I would not say so, my lord."

"Then you are a blind fool." The man gestured at Demenik. "Look at the boy, Giles, and pay attention for once today." He tilted his head back and sniffed the air like a dog. "He has the look of a hunter. I can smell the scent of lion on him from here."

"I don't understand, my lord."

"Of course you don't." Caladan picked up the goblet and waved it. "You're a sheep. A stupid old sheep. You have your uses, of course, but a young hunter stands close enough to rip your throat out and you are unaware of the danger right at your throat."

"I'm sorry, my lor—"

"Leave us."

The man backed away, his head low. "As you wish."

As the man left, the corner of Demenik's mouth ticked upwards.

"Something amuses you."

"No, Lord." Demenik bowed his head.

The Lord of the Alleys stood and approached Demenik, stopping in front of him and reaching down to grab the boy's chin and tilt it up.

"Why are you here, little lion?"

"To offer tribute."

Caladan smiled. "If you have money, you should keep it for yourself. Whatever small amount you possess will disappear soon enough. When someone offers me tribute, I expect them to do so regularly. I also begin to take notice of them."

"Good."

"Good?" Caladan frowned and then laughed. "Everyone leave us."

Demenik's eyes remained fixed on the table while the others shuffled out of the room. The door closed with a click and Caladan walked back to sit on his throne. "Sit down, boy." He motioned at the table in front of him. "With a pair of balls your size, you need to rest your legs."

Demenik sat, careful not to smile. I'm playing what could become a dangerous game. Still, it's too late to turn back.

"Put your tribute on the table, then."

Demenik removed coins from his waistband and placed them on the wooden surface.

"That's a tiny sum."

"It's ten percent of my earnings."

"Really?" Demenik could hear new interest in Caladan's voice. "You have taken to stealing, then?"

"Do you care?"

"Not really." Lord Caladan paused and looked at the money for a moment before looking at Demenik. "It is better if you offer this as a gift."

"Why?"

"Because then I can thank you for the offer and politely refuse."

"You would do that?"

"Normally, no." Caladan refilled his goblet from a large bottle of dark liquid. "But there is something about this scene that sets my bones on edge. An unknown street rat waits outside for hours, voluntarily, so that he can come in and offer me a tribute of pennies. You should be cowering in your rags, yet you sit as if this is your court instead of mine. That fact should infuriate me. Such things have happened before with ambitious pups, but you don't come off like others have. You are not insolent or challenging." He stroked his beard, looked at the money, and then at Demenik. "The voice inside my head tells me to reject your tribute, but it also tells me to accept it. It is rare for me to doubt myself."

Demenik nodded. Caladan watched him.

Finally, Caladan stood and laughed. He walked to Demenik's side and picked up the coins. "Are these a gift, young lion?"

"No, Lord." Demenik's tone was solemn, formal. "I offer tribute."

Lord Caladan's fist closed around the coins. "Then I accept your tribute, Demenik. As a new tribute, I offer you one thing only."

"Opportunity?"

"Perhaps. I prefer to think of it as my attention. I will be watching your actions more closely. I expect to see you again with further tribute. Ten percent is small, but I will allow it since you have earned almost nothing. Moving forward, I expect twenty percent." He stared at Demenik intently for a few moments and then shrugged. "Earning more and increasing your tribute will cause me to look upon you with more favour."

"Yes, Lord."

"I offer you no protection."

"Not yet."

"You say that as if you know my rules."

"I do."

"Then go out and prosper, young lion." He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed.

Demenik stood and bowed, then left.

"Why did you accept his tribute?" a woman's voice asked from the shadows. "Usually you smack the young ones around and take their money."

"Did you not sense something different in him?"

"Of course." She emerged from the darkness and went to lay on the throne, the dim light flickering along the muscular curves of her half naked body. "I am surprised that you did."

"He will be trouble."

She smiled and raised her arms over her head, stretching like a cat. "More than you can imagine, my lord."

Caladan moved to the throne and leaned down to kiss her. He bit her lip and smiled. "It's been a while since we've had excitement in the quarter."

"This one could bring about your demise, my dark wolf."

"A challenge." His hand ran down her leg. "I enjoy a challenge."