Desire For Power

Demenik, Stick, Mouse, and Oak—Lord Caladan had taken to calling them Demenik and his pride—stood on an empty rooftop above the new territory. Weeks had passed since Triax had been executed and the alley swept. Bodies of the dead had been removed by crews specially suited to the task and, like a forest after the fire, life was starting to return to the alley.

Society was demanding and harsh. Every day people who were once something became less and needed a place to either lick their wounds and regroup, or a relatively safe place from which to begin a new life.

The alleys were much more than a haven for the downtrodden; they were a place filled with opportunity for the right type of person. Drugs, whores, thieves, slaving, Pit recruitment, and many other dark industries were fed a constant stream of human resources emanating from the alleys and their denizens. As new souls appeared, the professionals circled them like hunters stalking innocent prey.

"Lord Caladan has given me his blessing to work in the new territory." Demenik held up a small brown scroll, which was rolled tightly and wrapped with a thin golden cord.

"You mean writ." Stick dangled one leg over the roof's edge, letting it swing as he used his knife to strip the bottom portion of bark from a piece of fresh iron wood which, Demenik knew from experience, would become a new quarterstaff.

"No. I mean blessing."

Stick's hands stopped working as he looked at Demenik and raised both eyebrows. "Lord's blessings are rare. You are very fortunate to have been granted such a thing."

"We are very fortunate." Demenik held the scroll above his head as Oak stepped forward to hug him.

"I can't believe it!" Oak laughed as he lifted his friend off the ground and hugged him. "You know what this means, don't you?"

"More responsibility and expectations added to our lives." Demenik returned the embrace and then tapped Oak on the shoulder and squirmed out of the hold. He stepped back and raised a hand for calm. Mouse smiled and shook his head while Oak nodded and moved to look over the edge of the roof once more.

"Demenik is right," Mouse said. "With a blessing, Lord Caladan will expect more tribute."

"That's why we are gathered." Demenik tucked the scroll into his vest. "It is time to get serious about building something profitable."

Mouse laughed. "You have generated more profit in a few months than most do over their entire lives, Demenik. How much do you want to earn?"

"When I say profitable, I don't mean gold or silver, Mouse. Money has no value."

"If that's the case then I will have yours, brother." Stick ran a dry cloth over the freshly exposed wood and held it up to inspect the surface.

Demenik removed a gold coin from his pocket and twirled it along his fingers with practiced ease. "Currency is a tally system to let others know how you rank compared to the rest. It could as easily be sheets of paper traded for goods and services as coin. The object does not matter; it is what the object represents."

"Paper instead of gold." Oak snorted and shook his head. "Some of your ideas are truly amusing."

Demenik tapped his breast pocket. "The scroll of blessing is an excellent example."

"He's right." Mouse picked the scrap bark from the ground where Stick had tossed it and began to rip off small pieces.

"Our profit, the goal for our lifetime of effort, must be to gain influence and power. The money will tell us how we are doing, but it is the land and titles that matter."

"And the control."

"Yes, Mouse. Control is the endgame."

"Titles?" Oak's eyes followed a cloaked woman as she moved through the alley below. "You wish to be an alley lord, Demenik?"

"No, but I do expect that you will be."

Oak looked up and frowned. "He may be my father, but he has more sons out there. Some will have their ambition set on succeeding him."

"Ambition is one thing, success is another. I expect you will be alley lord when the time is right."

"With our help, it should be attainable." Mouse nodded.

"I never seriously considered it."

"It's part of my plan."

Stick looked up from his carving. "What else is part of your plan, Demenik?"

Demenik shrugged. "For the moment, it is to determine how we are all best put to use with the skills we have."

"You lend the money, Oak provides the motivation for people to pay you back." Stick brushed the shavings from his lap. "Mouse gathers the secrets and information, and I . . ." He cocked his head. "What is it that I do?"

Mouse made a clucking sound with his tongue. "You pretend to do nothing, but are able to do everything."

"That is a kind thing to say, Mouse. Thank you."

"It's the truth."

"All of you understand the power of loyalty." Demenik said. "I want you to keep your eyes open for others who can be trusted."

"No one can be trusted."

"Everyone can be trusted with the correct motivation." Demenik knelt and traced a series of circles into the loose gravel. First a small circle, then another surrounding it, and another around that. "We are the inner circle. It is time to expand and build more around us."

"The further out the circle, the less like us they are," Stick said.

"Yes, but all circles will be united by a strong force."

"What force is that?"

"Desire for power."

"You envision a long game, Demenik."

Demenik drew a long line in the dirt. "A very long game indeed, Mouse."