Rezkin was a little surprised. She looked younger than her twenty-seven years, and she must have been doing something right to last that long in the guild, especially without killing anyone. “Age has nothing to do with this. Intelligence and loyalty are what I desire, and I believe you have both. There are others with more experience who can assist you with the day-to-day operations. Your primary job is to ensure that my objectives are carried out without question.”

“Yes, Master,” she replied with a seriousness that lacked her usual smirk. Rezkin noted the woman’s sincerity and nodded once. “Um … what do we call you?”

“I do not care what you call me as long as you follow orders,” Rezkin replied as he turned toward the door. He stepped carefully over the carnage as he went. “Take the bodies to the river. Line them up along the bank, and make sure their marks show,” Rezkin said, referring to the emblem tattooed on the forearm of every Diamond Claw member. Some members had multiple tattoos indicating their den memberships or former guilds. Those former guilds would be the smaller ones that paid tribute to the Diamond Claws or guilds that had been consumed and destroyed by the larger one. None of the major guilds would accept a traitor from another major guild. They all recognized the stark reality: once a traitor, always a traitor. “Everyone will know what happens when they defy me.”

When he reached the door, Rezkin turned and assessed the young man who had been keeping quiet behind the others. The young man appeared startled when he realized he had caught Rezkin’s attention. He looked as though he was unused to being noticed by others.

“What are you called?”

“Uh … Benni, Master,” the young man replied. He was a nice looking young man, clean and of clear complexion with a full set of teeth, as far as Rezkin could tell. His face was still a bit round with youth and did not look as though it required shaving often. He was of slightly less than average height, but he looked as though he had a bit more growth in his future.

Rezkin cocked his head thoughtfully and asked, “What are your Skills, Benni?”

Benni shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Rom for confirmation or assurance. Rom, being a smart man, gave neither and declined to meet Benni’s questioning eyes. Benni swallowed and said, “I, uh, I’m a sneak.”

Rezkin nodded in understanding. Sneak was the theives’ guild term for those who specialized in stealth and were assigned jobs that required breaking and entering businesses, homes, and offices without being detected. It made sense that someone with that specialty would be accustomed to going unnoticed. “You must be Skilled to be holed up in the guildhouse rather than a den.”

“Y-Yes, Master. I’m the best in the guild,” he said with a slight flush as he ducked his head.