The Dragonspire Chronicles Omnibus 1

by James E. Wisher

  “What’s to keep ordinary people from fighting back?” Brigid asked.

  “Are you kidding?” the barge master asked. “We transport regular folks, farmers and merchants, not soldiers. Pirates with crossbows combined with me reassuring them that everything will be okay as long as they cooperate is all that’s needed to keep the people docile. But now you’ve ruined everything. When word gets back to the bandits’ leadership, the next barge will get slaughtered.”

  “Then you’d best tell your employers to invest in competent guards,” Yaz said. “Assuming anyone will take your barges once word of this gets out.”

  “You can’t tell anyone.” The barge master reached for Yaz, but got his hands slapped aside by Brigid’s staff. “We’ll be ruined.”

  The barge master’s outburst had drawn the rest of the passengers their way. Yaz intended to let them know exactly what had happened.

  “You expect our sympathy after admitting to leading a third of your passengers into the hands of pirates?” Yaz shook his head. “I don’t think so. You’ll be lucky if the authorities in Port Steel don’t throw you in chains when we arrive.”

  Behind him the passengers were grumbling.

  “Assuming these good people don’t throw you overboard first.” Silas grinned.

  Chapter 5

  Moz and his unwilling companion, Alva the bandit, had been riding southeast for three days when he finally spotted the settlement. It sat in a clearing with a brook flowing to its west. While there was no precise line separating Rend and Carttoom, this place came as close as any he’d ever seen to straddling the border. There was no way the border guards hadn’t spotted it which meant that either King Rend approved or the local fort commander hadn’t sent in a report about it.

  Moz doubted the king would care one way or the other given all the other matters he had to worry about. If a group of optimists wanted to get themselves killed in the next war, who was he to argue? Moz didn’t know much about the government in Carttoom but doubted their king would be as understanding. Of course, building in the middle of nowhere probably helped keep them from drawing attention.

  The settlement had a twenty-foot-tall wall made of green timber sharpened to rough points with a single entrance. Small figures patrolled the battlements. At least they took security seriously. No doubt the bandits helped motivate them. Still, though the wall might slow an attack, if a large enough force came against them, they’d fall eventually.

  His prisoner had maintained a sullen silence since Moz tied him up and threw him over his horse’s saddle. His wrist didn’t appear infected yet, so he’d most likely live long enough to take Moz where he needed to go. At least his directions had proven accurate. Hopefully he’d be equally forthcoming when it came time to find the Dark Sages’ base.

  He was about to nudge the horses forward when the bandit finally said, “If we go in there, they’ll hang me.”

  “While you certainly deserve it,” Moz said, “they aren’t going to hang you. No one’s going to hang you until you lead me to the Dark Sages’ fortress.”

  “How reassuring,” Alva said.

  The man retained his sense of humor anyway. Moz set the horses in motion and guided them down a gentle incline toward the settlement. He hadn’t covered half the distance when the wall guards spotted him. Moz made no effort at stealth and kept his hands well away from the hilts of his swords. He wanted to talk, not get feathered.

  Ten yards from the wall a guard shouted, “Halt!”

  Moz reined in. A group of four soldiers armed with longbows had gathered and all of them had arrows nocked and ready.

  “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “I’m Moz of the Alteran Rangers. On an unrelated mission I encountered a burned-out wagon and two dead people. I tracked down the bandits responsible and the sole survivor told me about your ambitious project. I came to see what you’ve done and warn you that your enemies are planning on destroying everything you’ve built.”

  The guards muttered amongst themselves. Finally the spokesman said, “How do we know you’re really a ranger?”

  “How many others do you know that wear dragonscale armor?”

  That brought on another round of conversation. “Stay right there.”

  Moz wasn’t going anywhere so he crossed his arms and settled in.

  “They’re trying to work up the nerve to kill us,” Alva said.

  “At this range their bows won’t pierce my armor and if they hurt my horse, I’m liable to lose my temper. Besides, they need friends, not more enemies.”

  After a short wait that felt like a long wait, the gate swung open. The guard from above came out with an older couple dressed in simple homespun tunics. As they started across the clearing Moz dismounted so he could talk without looking down on them.

  The group stopped a few feet away. The older couple nodded in greeting while the guard kept a shaking hand near the hilt of his arming sword.

  “Welcome, Ranger,” the man said. “We’ve been expecting an official visit from one of the kingdoms. Lieutenant Gordy must have finally sent a message to the capital.”

  “I don’t know anyone named Gordy and I’m not here on official business. In fact, I’m in the middle of another matter, but stumbled into your situation on the way. Did the guards not tell you what I said when I arrived?”

  “They said you brought a warning,” the man said. “I assumed it was from King Rend.”

  “Bernard,” the woman said. “You’re being rude to our guest.”

  Bernard smiled. “Forgive me. My wife’s a stickler for protocol. We lead this community. I was born in Rend and Ella in Carttoom. We built this place to show that the people of the kingdoms could work together instead of constantly killing each other. We hoped the example might change people’s thinking.”

  Moz loved the naïveté of that thought. Unfortunately, there was so much hate on both sides, a single settlement no one knew about was hardly likely to change anything.

  “As I was telling your guard, I stumbled across a bandit attack. This turd is the only survivor of the group.” Moz jabbed Alva in the side. “Tell them what you told me.”

  “We got orders to meet up and attack this place. Our bosses want you all dead.”

  “When and how many?” Bernard asked. His lack of panic was impressive. Moz suspected the man had seen combat.

  “I don’t know, figure ten days for all the gangs to meet up and another three or four to make plans and march here. Two weeks tops. As for numbers, I’d say a couple hundred. My crew was the smallest of the lot.”

  “For what it’s worth,” Moz said. “I wouldn’t plan on more than ten days.”

  “You read my mind, Ranger. I assume you’ll hand this pig over to hang for his crimes.”

  “Nope, I still need him breathing. How many soldiers do you have?”

  Bernard’s smile was thin and bitter. “Real soldiers? Maybe ten. Triple that capable of shooting a bow.”

  Forty against two hundred, even with the walls, wasn’t good odds. Moz’s internal debate didn’t last long. “Would you be interested in a hand?”

  “From a ranger? Absolutely.”

  “Good. If you’ve got somewhere I can lock up my prisoner, I’ll get started setting traps in the forest. The more of them we can kill before they reach the walls the better.”

  “Why would you risk your life and your mission to help us?” Ella asked.

  “In my line of work, I’ve seen a lot of death and a lot of little towns burned. You’re trying to do something good here. If I can help keep your dream alive, I will.”

  Moz didn’t mention that plenty of the little towns he’d seen burn had been set ablaze by him and his squad. Now that he had a chance to make amends for that, he couldn’t ride away.

  Chapter 6

  A little over a day after the battle with the pirates, Yaz’s barge reached the last stop before Port Steel. The transport company’s supply depot wasn’t even in a town. Instead they’
d built a freestanding warehouse on stilts at the edge of the river. There was a hole in the bottom that allowed a block-and-tackle system to raise and lower large boxes filled with supplies. It looked like attacking it would be a difficult prospect. The bottom ten feet of the stilts were sheathed in steel plating so you couldn’t cut it down. Considering the place was loaded with food, a siege would take forever.

  The polemen pushed the barge over to the bank where a simple dock sized for a single vessel had been built and tied them up. The other passengers all looked to Yaz and his companions even though they were easily the youngest people on the barge. Since they had killed the pirates and tied up the barge master, some of the responsibility for getting everyone safely to their destination did fall to them. Yaz needed this complication like he needed a hole in the head.

  The barge master sat on deck, his hands tied behind him and his ankles bound. Yaz grabbed him by the collar and jerked him to his feet. “So, what’s the resupply procedure?”

  “Figure it out for yourselves,” he said. “You’ve ruined my career and probably gotten me killed. You’ll get no help from me.”

  Yaz shrugged. “Have it your way.”

  He dragged the barge master to the far rail and pushed him halfway out over the water.

  “Hey! Whoa! What are you doing?” The barge master wriggled like a worm on a hook.

  “If you’re not willing to help us, what good are you?”

  The barge master looked to Silas and Brigid, but they stood silently with their arms crossed. He’d find no sympathy there.

  “Think you can swim with your hands and feet bound?” Yaz asked.

  “I can’t swim with them unbound. Fine, I’ll help, but I need something from you.”

  “You’re not in a good position to bargain.”

  “Don’t I know it. Look, I just want you to promise not to tell anyone I was helping the pirates. The owners already know, but if other customers found out, I’d have no prospects. And if the guys in the warehouse find out, they’ll hang me from the floorboards.”

  “You mean they don’t know you and your bosses are in bed with murderous thugs?”

  “Only me, my crew, and my bosses know. Most people wouldn’t approve.”

  “No kidding.” Yaz sighed. “Fine, I won’t say anything. Now let’s go.”

  He jerked the barge master clear of the railing and pulled his dagger. The ropes fell away and he nudged the man toward the dock. Silas, Brigid, and Tonia fell in behind them as they stepped onto the creaky boards. Yaz didn’t dare step too hard for fear of falling through. You’d think the barge company would spend a little scale on maintenance.

  When he stood directly under the trap door the barge master shouted. “Picking up!”

  The door opened and two bearded men’s faces appeared in the opening. “Phineus. What do you need?”

  “Supplies for forty-three to Port Steel.”

  “Forty-two,” Tonia said. “This is where I get off.”

  “Check that,” Phineus said. “Forty-two.”

  “Hang on.” The faces vanished and thuds from above said they were gathering supplies.

  “You’re leaving here?” Brigid said.

  “This is the middle of nowhere,” Yaz added. “The nearest civilization is five days away on foot.”

  Tonia smiled. “I appreciate your concern, but this has always been where I planned to get off.”

  “Meeting someone?” Silas asked.

  Her smile broadened. “You’ll forgive me if I decline to answer. Best of luck finding your families.”

  She took a step then turned back. “For what it’s worth, Rend has a policy of accepting any slave that makes it across the border as a free person. If you need a safe place you might want to think about it.”

  “Thanks,” Yaz said.

  Brigid hugged her. “Be careful.”

  Tonia appeared nonplused for a moment then she patted Brigid on the shoulder. “You too.”

  Then she whistled, a gust of wind swirled around some leaves and dust, and she was gone.

  Brigid sighed. “I liked her.”

  Yaz nodded. For a Rend agent, a nation Carttoom had fought a war with not that long ago, Tonia seemed a decent sort. And the information about Rend would be especially useful. Yaz had been racking his brain trying to figure out where they might hole up once they’d rescued the first batch of their people, now he had a target in mind. Not that making it to the border would be easy, but it was something.

  Above them, the trapdoor opened again and a heap of crates and sacks slowly lowered to the ground. Food for five days then they’d reach Port Steel.

  Chapter 7

  Shade’s feet gently sank into the sand up to his ankles and the faint pressure from Jax’s spell vanished. He doubted he’d ever get used to floating out of the sky on an invisible rope. Shade started walking toward the tent city. It would have been nice if he didn’t have to start so far out, but everyone agreed a man falling from the sky would attract more notice than they wanted. So instead he got to walk a mile under the blistering sun.

  After three more days of scouting, he had a pretty good idea how the tent city worked. The Sun Clan, those with the red stripes in their robes, were the largest clan and oversaw security for the city. They also saw themselves as the leaders of the gathering. Plenty of the other clans saw them as excessively proud bullies with too high an opinion of themselves. Resentment, especially among the Water Clan, which was the smallest in the city, ran high.

  Shade had narrowed his list of targets down to half a dozen and presented his plan to the boss. Leonidas agreed and urged him to get on with it. That he hadn’t offered even passing suggestions to improve the plot pleased Shade immensely. He knew the boss trusted him despite his – how did Domina put it? – obnoxious personality. But it didn’t hurt to get a reminder every now and then. Jax and Rondo had been thrilled to remain on the ship and let him do the work. After the forest, Rondo especially had had his fill of danger. If that was the way he felt, he’d joined the wrong cadre.

  At the edge of the tents, Shade pushed all irrelevant thoughts out of his mind. He had a mission and distractions might prove fatal. It was a useful trick and after a few deep breaths he was ready. The first target was easy: the Water Clan guy that had the argument with the Sun Clan fellow on Shade’s first visit. Shade needed to get a couple things first.

  He’d avoided the main street up until now, if you wanted to call a straight gap between tents that ran all the way to the tower a street. But today he merged with the flow of people and strode confidently toward the city’s main market. The locals preferred curved daggers, so his straight blades would be a dead giveaway that the killer wasn’t a nomad. Shade couldn’t have that.

  It was a five-minute walk to the market and he quickly spotted a weapon merchant’s tent. Daggers and swords, all of them curved with wide blades, covered a single table. A man in an unmarked robe sitting on a three-legged stool rose as he approached.

  “Need a weapon, sir?” the merchant asked.

  The delay between the man speaking and the spell translating it wore on his nerves, but Jax assured him there was no way around it.

  “A new dagger if it’s not too costly,” Shade said.

  “I have the finest and cheapest weapons in all of Tower City. Please look, I’m sure we can come to a deal.”

  Shade made a show of looking over three of the weapons before settling on a ten-inch curved blade with a plain bone hilt. Any of them would have done, but he didn’t want to stand out by not fussing and haggling. It seemed to be a hobby among these people to argue over the price of everything. They were worse than the merchants back home, which was something Shade thought impossible.

  “How much for this one?” he asked.

  “Ah, an excellent choice, my friend.” No doubt whatever Shade had chosen would have been an excellent choice. “Fifty chits for that one.”

  During his earlier scouting missions Shade had snuck into an empty te
nt and stolen a coffer filled with the little clay coins. He could afford fifty easily, but again it wouldn’t do to accept right away.

  “Thirty,” Shade countered.

  The merchant clutched his heart as though he was about to collapse. “You try to slay me, sir. Forty, for the sake of my children.”

  “Thirty-five. Wouldn’t want the little ones getting fat.”

  The merchant laughed and beamed at Shade. “A deal, sir. I and my children thank you.”

  Shade counted out the ceramic disks and slid them over to the merchant who bowed over them before scraping them into a square box.

  With his weapon hidden under his robe, Shade made his way deeper into the city, angling toward the Sun Clan’s area. The second item he needed would be trickier to acquire, but it was absolutely necessary for his plan to work.

  His luck held and he found the area largely deserted as the clan spent most of their time patrolling the city on the lookout for criminals. They should have left a few more people in their own part of town, but he wasn’t going to complain. Like most people with power, the Sun Clan probably figured no one had the guts to do anything in their neighborhood. Shade had met plenty of powerful people over the years who thought that way. Most of them were dead now.

  After fifteen minutes of searching, Shade found what he wanted, a length of clothesline left unattended. He walked past and snatched a red-marked robe, stuffing it quickly under his own robe and making it look like he’d developed a sudden pot belly. Unintentional though it was, the addition only added to his disguise.

  Now to find somewhere to change.

  He lucked into a spot only minutes later. An empty outhouse provided privacy if not comfort and he soon had his stolen robe on over his plain one. The heat seemed to double instantly and sweat broke out on his back, sticking his under robe to his skin. If he didn’t get this done soon, he’d end up passing out from dehydration.

  Calm and quick, Shade made his way back to the well where the Water Clan member had argued with the Sun Clan member. If he was anything like the people back home, the Water Clan guy would have complained about his treatment to everyone he knew. Shade counted on that. He also counted on his patsy patrolling the city alone. He’d trailed the man for two days to make sure of it. Couldn’t very well frame a guy with a good alibi after all.