He was familiar with this tactic. Usually it would be employed just to get a bit of extra gold out of a smuggler, but his assailants were being completely unreasonable. He had offered them a bribe of a thousand gold just to let him go.
"Three thousand gold should more than suffice as payment," said Seymon.
"It's not about the gold, Seymon. We need to set an example here. We let you smugglers get away with anything as long as you declare, and pay us our cut. But you just had to get greedy, didn't you?"
"Does Major Aida know about this?"
"Who do you think sent us here?" asked the large guard, snickering.
Damned Aida, thought Seymon. The wretched woman was easily one of the most corrupt people he had ever seen in his life. And that was saying something for a man from the slums of Archon, where even the local guard made a living off taxing hoodlums.
"Stop being such a baby. We're not hacking off a limb. An ear at the most. Even a few fingers will suffice, I was told," said Vanessa casually. "That, and you forfeit all your goods this time."
That was as good as handing down a death sentence. Seymon had buyers already lined up for more than half of his goods. These weren't the sort of buyers that would take well to being told that their goods had been confiscated. They had paid good gold, and a lot of it in advance. He already used much of the gold in paying off the authorities in Archon in preparation for his return trip.
Losing his goods now would bankrupt him beyond recovery. Add to that that his life would end less than a day after he set foot back on Archon. Major Aida most likely knew the true cost of his goods, which was why she was intent on confiscating them.
"Would four thousand suffice? That's an easy thousand for each one of you," haggled Seymon.
Drawing the dagger on his belt would only serve to enrage the soldiers, but he was finding it hard to resist as he saw the three men close in on him.
"Nothing for you here, commoner. On your way," said Vanessa.
Seymon as well as the three guards turned to look at the newest arrival to this scene. It looked like a young man, and he appeared to be wounded. He seemed to need the support of the tavern wall even for walking. And...it looked the man had a hamster peering out of his collar. A normal man would have missed it, but Seymon had sharp eyes—an invaluable asset for a smuggler.
"Hey you. Didn't you hear the Sergeant? Move!" said one of the guards, turning towards the newcomer.
Bad idea, thought Seymon. Hadn't the idiots been around mages long enough to know when they saw one? Seymon was used to trading in magical goods, and although he couldn't cast any spells, he was knowledgeable enough with magic.
He was about to tell the guards they should back off when one of them attempted to prod the mage with the back of his spear.
The effect was instantaneous. And Seymon had expected something similar. The guard's helm was struck by a single thick spark of lightning. It was over in a flash as the guard fell to knees convulsing from the shock. Seymon doubted the man would live.
"Seymon, you bastard. What is this?" asked Vanessa. Her cheeks were flushed with anger and she had her sword drawn.
"Could he be... I think it's the mad mage, Sarge," said one of the guards, whose face was suddenly overcome with terror.
"The one that killed Borlug in the market square? He looks half dead anyway," said the second guard.
Idiot, thought Seymon. Even half dead, a mage was a deadly opponent. There were ways for non-mages to counter magic, but it required expensive equipment, which Seymon doubted the loud-mouthed guard had on him.
"Step back, fool. He's a mage from the castle. If the governor even thinks that we've provoked him..."
He seemed ready to drop dead at any moment, and Seymon could see that the man's hand was dripping with blood. He was bleeding from somewhere. A lot.
"Damn you, Seymon. With us. Now!" said Vanessa as she and the two guards retreated slowly.
Like hell, thought Seymon.
He never believed in luck, but if it ever existed, he was sure this was how it would manifest itself. Not in the form of gold or some other wealth, but in the right form when you needed it the most.
"I won't ask another time, Seymon," said Vanessa, gritting her teeth and glaring at him.
Seymon didn't have time to respond. Two large balls of flame struck Vanessa and one of the guards, setting them afire. He watched, flooded with a mixture of fear and relief as Vanessa and the guard melted away. Their screams ended quickly as they fell to the ground still burning.
The last guard made to run away. Seymon couldn't let him go. He leapt after the guard and buried his dagger into the man's neck from behind. He fell to the ground gurgling blood.
As he sheathed his dagger, Seymon felt a cold hand on his shoulder.
The mage. His touch was like ice, even though Seymon had just seen a stream of fire erupt from it.
"A man inside the tavern. He said you had a ship... Take me on it," said the mage, forming the words with incredible difficulty.
"Er..."
Seymon didn't know what to say.
The man looked haggard and ready to drop, but the hand gripped his shoulder firmly. He would have considered making a run for it, until he saw the man's eyes. There was a grim determination about them that said Seymon wouldn't live if he refused. Before he could answer, Seymon heard more footsteps.
For a moment, he wondered if it was reinforcements.
Two men burst into view. Jaffar, his first mate, and Piper, a young deckhand on his ship. Jaffar had his sword drawn.
"What the hell happened here? Are you all right?" asked Jaffar, looking at the two burning bodies on the ground.
"I wish I knew," replied Seymon. "We have this young mage here to thank."
"The ship's being prepared as we speak," said Jaffar. He still seemed bewildered by the grisly spectacle.
Seymon had signaled in code to his crewmates when he was being escorted out. He was glad that his message got through despite most of them being in a drunken stupor. The message had been to get this ship ready to sail as soon as possible.
"Crowd's beginnin' to gather," said Piper, looking around.
He was right. Seymon could see lamps being lit across the street. The noise of the burning guards' screams seemed to have roused quite a few people from their sleep.
The mage's hand still gripped his shoulder firmly. While the mage did save Seymon's life, he wasn't sure if taking the man along for the trip was a wise thing to do. But it appeared he was well versed in magic to have dispatched of three armed soldiers with such ease. And in the state that he was in. If Aida came after him, which he knew she would, having the mage's power on his side wouldn't be a bad thing.
"Are we taking him along?" asked Jaffar, pointing to the young mage.
"I guess we have a new passenger," said Seymon, hoping that he was making the right decision.
Chapter 60
Gale walked along with the busy crowd of the Archon marketplace. For an ex-Raven, it was almost second nature to blend into a crowd.
He had learned early on in his career as a thief that blending into a crowd was the easiest way to remain concealed. Especially in a very busy marketplace. However well practiced you were, standing in a shaded place and trying to look inconspicuous still had a minor chance of drawing unnecessary attention—you never knew what people were focusing on. Moving with a crowd, however, was a different matter. The typical drill followed by the Ravens was three hundred feet before switching direction. The number was chosen based on the field of view that a human eye could cover, and the distance it would need to mark out a single man in a crowd. Better thieves often had their own patterns of walking, but the fundamentals were still the same. Wear dull colors, walk a little slower than the flow of the crowd around you, no abrupt movements. Never repeat patterns. Walk by different stalls. Exceptional thieves could still spot the basic patterns, but in a place like this? Gale knew perhaps two or maybe three thieves who would be able to pic
k him out.
He had told Balthus that he would be waiting by Gainthrope Gallery—a store selling gaudy but strangely popular paintings. The owner always had anything between half a dozen to a dozen paintings hanging on display at the entrance. Perhaps to lure customers, the paintings chosen were always the ones with the brightest colors that would stand out in the busy marketplace. The advantage was that the colors themselves were distracting enough that people did not focus too much on the surroundings. It would have been an ideal place to stand and wait, but Gale decided he needed to be cautious.
There were six other attacks on several of the Black Raven strongholds similar to the attack on Ceívar's establishment. All of them involved the Summoners. Two other meetings he arranged with Renal's men turned out to be traps to bait and eliminate Renal's loyalists. Balthus was one of the few people he knew he could trust, but after recent occurrences, he wasn't about to take any chances.
He circled around the gallery, keeping a watchful eye for Balthus. He didn't expect the man to brazenly stand in the open meeting place. Surely Balthus would be just as cautious.
Gale tightened the grip on his hidden dagger as his trained eye picked out an anomaly from the crowd gathered near the entrance. A head. The people near the entrance had their eyes transfixed on the paintings, but there was one that kept darting around. Gale might have missed it, but he was unnaturally alert today.
Gale carefully weaved his way through the crowd, towards the gallery entrance. From this distance, he could make out Balthus' frame. Before the meeting, he took great care to remember as many details as he could about the thief's appearance. His mind flashed back to the brothel where he'd witnessed the Black Raven turncoats transforming into demons.
Taking exceptional care, he came to a halt right behind Balthus. Within a few moments, the Raven would be able to tell that someone was behind him, but before that could happen, Gale slipped his dagger through the man's cloak and rested the tip on his spine. He could feel Balthus stiffen and freeze in place. An amateur would have panicked, but it seemed Balthus had indeed matured as a Raven after Gale had left their ranks.
"What are you doing, Gale?" asked Balthus. Although he maintained his composure, Gale could see the man was restraining himself.
"Be quiet," whispered Gale in response.
The dagger still resting against Balthus' spine, Gale drew a small vial of blue-tinged liquid from his robes and emptied the contents on Balthus' neck. He waited for a while before releasing the dagger. Illazehra had mentioned that the liquid would steam if there were even the hint of demonic essence inside the body. She warned him that it wouldn't be a weapon, but merely a test. Gale had never used it before, but it didn't look like the liquid was steaming.
"What the hell was that?" asked Balthus as Gale removed the blade and stepped away from the man.
"Just taking precautions," said Gale.
"Well, fine. Now that that's out of the way... Where the hell have you been? And where's Illazehra? She sent word that she was with you, but Renal needs her."
"She's safe, and she'll be returning to Renal soon. But before I answer anything else—what the hell is going on? We heard there were more attacks? Six, the last I heard..."
"Attacks? We lost the guild-hall!"
This was news to Gale. Lost the guild-hall? How was that even possible?
"What?"
"You heard me. We lost the guild-hall. It was Darius all along. That prick allied with the Summoners."
"So there's more than one?"
"Five from what we know. They're led by a man named Dahl."
Gale already knew that part. Dahl was the name of the Summoner whose house Garvin had targeted.
"Leading them? Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Little Glendon heard him barking orders to the others before he escaped from the hall. He stakes his life on it. Dahl is the leader."
When news of the dragon egg had reached Garvin, the man had been exceedingly cautious in his inquiries. He had paid a good sum of money to find out if Dahl was a man of note on the Summoners isle. A contact of Garvin's from Lasrim assured him that nobody on the isle even knew of Dahl, so they had assumed he was some nameless Summoner who had gotten his hands on something valuable. Gale started sweating and his head began to hurt. Just how deep was this mess he was in right now?
"You need to tell me everything," said Gale calmly.
"I don't need to tell you anything. Renal has ordered—"
Gale's hand, still gripping the dagger, rushed to Balthus' face. The man tried to move, but Gale had too much of a head start. And the element of surprise. At the last moment, he inverted the blade, striking Balthus on his nose with the hilt of the dagger.
The strike wasn't meant to disable, but Balthus staggered and lost his balance. Curbing the flow of blood, Balthus looked at Gale incredulously, as if he couldn't believe what Gale had done.
"I've just about had it with you blasted Ravens. You lost the guild-hall? How the hell do you do that?"
"You bastard!"
"Save your breath!" hissed Gale, leaning down to grab Balthus' shoulder.
The strike hadn't gone unnoticed. A small group of people in their vicinity were staring at the two of them.
"Walk," commanded Gale, still holding Balthus by the shoulder.
Balthus might have been a child and a novice during Gale's time with the Ravens, but he was now Renal's lieutenant, and one of the higher-ranking officers in the guild. Gale shouldn't have lost his temper, but he needed the young man to see that he was serious. And that he couldn't continue treating him as an outsider. He needed to let Balthus know that he was on their side.
"Four of the guild mages are dead," said Gale. "Only Kugan and Illazehra live. She won't be wandering around while there are assassins hunting for her. The Summoner who attacked us targeted her specifically. She asked me to find out more before she can come back to the Ravens."
Balthus thought for a while, still visibly angry from the strike, but he seemed to have put it aside for now. Good, thought Gale. For a moment, he thought the man was about to reach into his robe.
"It's not just the mages. They also targeted some of the lieutenants. Most of us got out alive, but it looks like their main target was the guild-hall. There were three Summoners there, and another unidentified mage, along with Darius and some twenty of his men. They went straight for Renal, but he got out alive. Few others survived, though."
"Twenty men. That's not a lot," said Gale. Of the three potential usurpers, Darius would have been the top of the list except for resources, which he didn't have. But he seemed to have solved that by allying with the Summoners.
"How did this even happen? Why did they reach out to Darius?" asked Gale.
"Word has it he promised them Toskk."
"How does he know where to find the boy?"
"We're not really sure. But turns out the Summoners are desperate. They thought it easier to give Darius the guild-hall than to try and locate Toskk."
It did make some sense. For a freelance thief, Toskk was turning out to be incredibly hard to find. Even for some of the Raven's best trackers. There was no way mages would be able to find him. Divination spells could only go so far. And from what Illazehra had told him about divination spells, their effectiveness was severely limited if the target even had the most basic protection.
"Where's Renal now?" asked Gale.
Balthus' response was a derisive snort. Looked like he wasn't going to be too open with that information.
"He's planning a counter-attack, surely?"
"With what?" asked Balthus. "You said it yourself. Of the eight mages on retainer, we've lost six. Kugan and Illazehra are the only ones left alive. This is why we need her."
"Since when is Renal so dependent on the mages?"
"Since he lost the support of every other guild-master in the Ravens."
"What?"
"Darius sent out word to them right after he took the hall. They were to either join h
im or, at the very least, remain neutral until the affair is settled. We know at least three guild-masters have decided to back him, because they think going against the Summoners would be a bad idea."
In short, they believed that Renal had no chance in hell.
"Thanril?"
He wasn't a guild-master but he was very highly respected.
"Neutral, the last we heard. He was the man closest to Renal, so Darius has him under constant watch."
"So how many people does Renal have right now?"
"A little more than fifty..."
If Darius had the backing of even two guild-masters, that was not nearly enough to attack him. Add the Summoners, and Darius firmly held the better hand.
"Were you and Illazehra the only ones that survived?" asked Balthus.
"Yes," replied Gale immediately. "Did you want to know? Or did Renal tell you to ask me that?"
Balthus' silence was all Gale needed to know that the question was from Renal. So, it seems Renal was aware of Ceívar's hidden abilities. Almost as if he expected Ceívar to survive. For now, there was nothing to be gained in letting Balthus know that Ceívar had lived.
"I've answered your questions; now where's Illazehra?"
"Tell me where Renal is, and I'll bring her there."
"That's not how this works..."
"Actually it is. She's not going to meet anyone except Renal. Those are her words, not mine. You can go tell him that and meet me back here with an answer before midnight."
Without waiting for a response, Gale turned around and started walking. He didn't have to look back to know that Balthus wasn't following him. The conversation might not have gone his way, but even he should know that he wouldn't be able to follow Gale.
For a while Gale just wandered around the crowds of the market, in and out of shops while carefully keeping a watch. When he was convinced that there was no one following him, he made his way back to one of the better parts of Archon. There was a small apartment that his old master, Garvin, used for meeting his mistresses. Gale had escorted both his master and young Calar there several times in the past. If anyone was looking for them, it would be less likely that they would look for anything related to Garvin. Everything related to the man had literally been erased from Archon by the Summoners.
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