by Pedro Urvi
Nilsa looked up at the moon, which was beginning to make its appearance in an overcast sky. “Yeah, we’d better go back or we’ll be sanctioned. There’s a curfew in the castle. If we’re shut out, we’ll be punished. Gondabar’s very strict about that. Every Ranger in the capital has to be back in the tower before the day’s over. Unless he’s on some special mission.”
“What special missions are there?”
“Missions of Expertise… which are always very secretive. And others of a more sensitive nature…”
“Spies, wars, and that sort of thing?”
“Exactly.”
“I see…” Lasgol felt that he would prefer not to be kept informed of missions like that. Mainly because they would get him into trouble, and he had a tendency to do just that, on a grand scale. Without meaning to, obviously.
“How quickly the day’s gone by!” he pointed out.
“Of course it has. You want to see the whole city in the blink of an eye, and that’s just not possible!”
“It’s bigger than I thought. We haven’t managed to see everything I wanted to see today.”
Nilsa laughed. “Huh, that won’t be for lack of trying.”
“I’m sure there are a thousand places more to discover in this great city of rock and steel.”
She winked at him. “There are, but to hunt them out and visit them all would take months, and time is something we don’t have.”
“I’m sure you already know plenty of the most interesting corners.”
Nilsa smiled. “Yeah, quite a few. I’ve been here for a year as messenger and liaison, and I’ve had to cover all sorts of places, both in the city and outside it.”
“They must be really intriguing.”
“There’s a bit of everything.” She winked at him again. “Some are, some less so. Then there are the lower-class areas and the outbuildings where all kind of illegal transactions take place and all kinds of crimes are committed. We’ll skip those areas.”
“Sounds good.”
“Viggo would be delighted to visit them.”
“You bet!”
They both laughed.
“Follow me. I know a shortcut that’ll get us back in time to avoid being punished.” She set off again.
She headed to a street on her right at full tilt and turned a corner. Lasgol was following close behind her so as not to lose her, since she had the habit of zooming off like an arrow so that if whoever was following her blinked, he would lose her. They turned into a long alley and broke into a run. It was dimly lit, but as it was not one of the better areas of the city this was not surprising. He smiled at Nilsa, who smiled back. It reminded him of when they had been in the Camp, practicing as a team. They had shared great moments there which would unite them for the rest of their lives.
“Be careful,” she warned. “The pavement’s irregular around here. I’ve taken more than one good fall at night.”
Lasgol nodded and winked. “I’ll be careful.”
With those good thoughts he looked ahead, and his trained eye warned him of a bump in the badly-paved street. As it was a poor neighborhood he took it for granted that it was simply due to poor workmanship and the fact that the street had deteriorated over time. Or it might also be one of the parts affected by the siege which had been repaired quickly and sloppily, which would not have been surprising. Lasgol pointed out the bump to Nilsa, and she skipped it nimbly without trouble. This made him smile. When Nilsa was paying attention to things she had no accidents; it was when she was acting impulsively that they happened. Unfortunately this was exactly the way his friend behaved. It was charming and frustrating at the same time. Lasgol smiled to himself again. He was very happy to be able to be spending so much time with her.
Halfway down the street he noticed another bump, this time a larger one. This particular street was in bad need of repair, especially because it was so badly-lit, if indeed it was lit at all, and at night the bumps and potholes in the pavement were hard to see. When he used his Night Vision skill, he saw the bump clearly. He pointed it out to Nilsa, but this time, although she skipped to avoid it, her back foot stepped on a jagged protrusion. Lasgol, seeing this, was afraid she would lose her balance, but she kept it and he breathed a sigh of relief.
There came a metallic click. He turned his head toward the sound and saw with surprise that it had come from where Nilsa had put her foot. He was about to warn her when there came an explosion of smoke and dust. She gave a cry and fell.
Lasgol stopped abruptly and nearly fell forward. “Are you all right?” he called to her.
She only grunted and shook her head. She seemed to be stunned. As Lasgol went to help her, he heard a whistle: a lethal sound. Instinctively, or perhaps thanks to his training, he threw himself down like lightning, and as he did so an arrow brushed past his head. He got to one knee, and while he turned toward the northern part of the street, where the arrow had come from, he readied his bow and nocked. All this he did in a single swift, fluid movement.
Another arrow brushed past his ear. He whipped his head to one side, narrowed his eyes and located two archers at the end of the street. One was on the left, sheltered behind a barrel, the other on the right, behind the cover of the thick wooden column of a portal. Lasgol realized that he and Nilsa had fallen into a trap.
“Ambush!” he called to her, and released against the one on the left with his short bow. As they were in the city on duty, they were both wearing their Ranger gear with regulation short bow, knife and axe. His arrow skimmed past the head of the archer crouching behind the barrel. He was dressed in dark clothes and wore a scarf over his nose and mouth. His partner was similarly clad, and both were carrying short bows. Had they chosen the wrong targets to ambush? Was it really he and Nilsa they were after? Considering his previous experience, he had to admit that it could easily be the case.
Nilsa tried to struggle to all fours, but she was dizzy and could not manage it.
“Stay flat on the ground!” he shouted. If she got up they would get her, whereas flat on the ground, she had a chance. But he had to defend her, or she would be lost. He nocked another arrow.
The archer on the right released.
Lasgol saw the arrow flying straight to his heart. The shot was precise and powerful, and he had no time to dodge it. He put his right forearm in front of his chest to protect his heart. The arrow struck him in the center of his arm protection and pierced it. Pain stabbed through him. The tip of the arrow had penetrated the flesh of his forearm. He ignored the pain, though if it had touched some nerve he would be in trouble. He focused, searched for his inner pool of energy and called upon two of his skills, Improved Agility and Cat Reflexes, one after the other. Luckily they worked, which was not always the case – particularly in dangerous situations or if he was wounded. He was also getting steadily better at invoking skills like these. The more often he did it, the faster and more effectively he could use them.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw them releasing once again at him. He rolled to one side to avoid being hit by the assailant on the left. Thanks to the help of his magic he was able to dodge the arrow, which came close but failed to touch him. Analyzing the shots, he realized that those two archers were very good. If he had not been a Specialist Ranger, and without his magic, he would be dead by now, with two arrows in his heart. The realization made him distinctly uneasy, particularly when he thought about Nilsa.
He released to defend himself and hit the beam the assailant on the right was hiding behind. His quarry ducked when he saw the shot. Foreseeing that the one on the left would get him in a moment with a new shot, he rolled over again at lightning speed and found that he had predicted correctly, but he managed to dodge the arrow narrowly. He nocked and released against the archer on the left, at the same time rolling to the opposite side to avoid the one on the right. He realized that he could not go on with this cat-and-mouse game, that sooner or later they would catch him. He finished the turn, nocked, aimed, releas
ed, and almost got the archer on the left. They were good, both at releasing and at dodging. Things were turning ugly.
Suddenly the archer on the right turned his aim to Nilsa. With his heart in his mouth Lasgol saw the arrow skim past her head where she was still on the ground trying to recover. Knowing he had to take the risk, he called upon his True Shot skill against the archer on the right, whose shoulder he could see standing out from the beam. With one of his normal shots he knew he would never hit his target; he was over a hundred and fifty paces away and there was very little light. Hitting a small area of shoulder at that distance was beyond his ability. The problem with invoking his True Shot skill was that it took him longer and required more concentration than his other skills, since it was one of the most recently-acquired ones and he had still not completely mastered it – quite apart from the fact that it consumed more inner energy. This put him in grave danger of being hit in the meantime.
The archer on the left got up from behind the barrel and aimed at Lasgol. His skill was about to manifest itself, and he did not want to interrupt the process. He gambled. The archer released. Lasgol, who was aiming at his opponent’s shoulder, concentrating hard, saw the green flash of the skill running along his arm and bow and released. His opponent’s arrow was flying straight to his heart, as he had expected. His own flew toward the shoulder of the other archer, who was staying protected behind the beam.
As Lasgol saw the arrow on its way, he moved his own bow in front of his heart, and the arrow hit it so hard that it snapped. He heard a moan and saw that his arrow had stuck deep into the shoulder of the archer behind the beam. He tried vainly to release against Lasgol, cursed and began to retreat. Lasgol dropped his bow and unsheathed his knife and axe. The other archer was aiming at him again.
He released.
Lasgol rolled over his head, not letting go of his weapons, and the arrow missed him. But now he could not counterattack and was too far away to throw either knife or axe. He had no choice: he had to keep moving toward the attacker. He rolled over his head again and the archer adjusted his shot to allow for the movement, but Lasgol noticed this, rolled sideways instead of forward and dodged the arrow. But he was running out of options, and in one or two more shots the archer was going to get him. As soon as he came a little closer, he would be completely at his attacker’s mercy. He rolled forward twice more and the assailant waited without releasing, still aiming, seeking the exact moment, when Lasgol had already begun his movement. The archer knew that his victim could not dodge the arrow at such a short distance.
He tried a couple of trick moves, but the murderer did not fall for the bait. His eye was fixed on his victim, waiting for the ideal moment, the final one.
Now he had it.
But suddenly Lasgol heard a whistle coming from behind him. It was another arrow cutting the air!
He made to turn, fearing that it might be too late, but he saw that the arrow was not for him. Instead, it flew past him straight toward the assassin, who did not see it because his eyes were fixed on Lasgol. The arrow hit his bow. From the impact and the surprise, he lost his grip, and it fell to the ground. Lasgol turned to see Nilsa on her knees nocking another arrow.
It had been her!
Lasgol took the opportunity to get to his feet and run like lightning toward the assassin. As he saw him coming, the man took out his knife and short axe.
A Ranger’s knife and axe!
The assailant glanced at Lasgol, then at Nilsa. There was a brief moment of doubt, then he ran off down the street.
“Move over, Lasgol!” came Nilsa’s warning.
The assassin was running with all his might and was almost at the end of the street. Lasgol stopped and moved aside to give her a clean shot.
Lasgol watched Nilsa, her short bow at the ready, aiming with a look of deep concentration. The assassin was nearing the end of the street and was more than two hundred paces away by now. Lasgol doubted whether she could hit him at that distance with a short bow.
She released. The arrow flew.
Lasgol saw it swish beside him, then it struck the assassin in the back. His body arched, he took two steps, and then fell to one side.
“Great shot,” Lasgol gasped. He remembered now what a good distance archer she was.
Nilsa lowered her bow, “I’m feeling a bit queasy,” she warned him. There were tears in her eyes.
Lasgol was worried that there might be more assailants in the cross-street at the end. “I’ll go and see if there’s anyone else.”
“Be careful.”
Lasgol turned, and to his amazement the body of the assassin had vanished from the end of the street. He walked forward warily, crouching, his weapons at the ready. Behind him Nilsa nocked her bow again.
“I’m covering you,” she said.
Lasgol nodded and approached the corner with great care.
There was nobody there.
He tracked and found two trails of blood on the ground. They had wounded both of them, and they had fled up the street. He turned to Nilsa and gestured to show that there was no danger. Nilsa lowered her bow and tried to clear her head.
Lasgol breathed out heavily in relief. They had escaped by the skin of their teeth.
Chapter 27
“I can’t believe it,” Gondabar said. He was shaking his head behind his desk, deeply annoyed. It was midnight, and two oil lamps lit his sober Tower office.
Nilsa and Lasgol had just told him what had happened. With them were three veteran Rangers who were investigating the event.
“In the middle of the city?”
“Yes, sir. In Centipede Street, in the southeastern quarter.” Omnisen explained. He was the most experienced Ranger, and in charge of the case.
“Robbery?”
“We don’t think so,” Nilsa said. She looked at Lasgol, who nodded in agreement.
Omnisen shook his head emphatically. “This was a full-fledged ambush, sir.”
Gondabar gave him a look of astonished disbelief. “An ambush? Of two Rangers? In the capital?”
“It looks like it, sir.”
“Agents of the West? Zangrians?” Gondabar exclaimed with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. “Who could have done a thing like that?”
There was a tense silence.
“They used traps… Rangers’ traps,” Omnisen explained.
Gondabar got up from his chair as if sharp spikes had come through the seat. “By all the frozen winds of the north!” he cried. “Rangers’ weapons used against Rangers?”
“That’s correct, sir. My men have analyzed them.” Omnisen indicated the other two Rangers. “They’re our own.”
“That’s terrible! Are you suggesting this was carried out by Rangers?”
Nilsa and Lasgol, who were keeping silent, gave a slight nod.
“In my opinion,” Omnisen reasoned, “either it was Rangers that did this, or else someone who wants to frame us.”
“It can’t be the first, and I don’t understand what the second might hope to achieve.”
Lasgol cleared his throat unobtrusively, and Gondabar turned to him. “Speak, Lasgol.”
“Nilsa and I think it was Rangers. They were very good archers, and they knew how to use traps.”
“No Ranger would try to attack two other Rangers in the capital,” he replied incredulously.
“That statement is correct, but there’s more to it than that, sir,” Lasgol said.
“What more?”
“They’re not ordinary Rangers, they’re Dark Rangers. And they aren’t attacking Rangers in general, they want to kill me.”
The three veteran Rangers exchanged uneasy glances. Nilsa was nodding. Gondabar was about to reply, but stopped midway. He reconsidered and shut his mouth. There was a long, tense silence.
“This is really serious,” he said at last.
“It certainly is,” Omnisen agreed. “Nothing like this has happened for a very long time, least of all here in the capital. There’s been the oc
casional fight over money or a woman among our people, but an attempt on two Rangers is something I can’t remember. Although it’s true that one or two have lost their lives in a strange way lately…”
“It could also be the work of the Dark Rangers,” Nilsa insisted.
Gondabar made a soothing gesture. “Let’s not come to over-hasty conclusions without further evidence. We don’t really know whether this attack was carried out by the Dark Rangers. In fact, we don’t even know whether they really exist.” He stared at the three veterans. It looked as though he wanted to reassure his men by downplaying the implications that the incident had actually been an attack by the dark faction.
“The rumors are spreading,” Omnisen said, as though offering the leader a chance to speak freely in front of them.
“I know they exist and that they want to kill me,” Lasgol insisted. “And after this second attack there can’t be any doubt about it.”
“I’m not saying that’s not true,” Gondabar said. “I’m saying that we need to investigate it and clear it up before we jump to conclusions.” He was thoughtful for another moment. “Omnisen, I want you to carry out a thorough investigation of the event and search for possible perpetrators. They must still be in the city if, as Nilsa and Lasgol have said, they’re wounded.”
“One of them might have died,” Nilsa remarked. “I got him full in the back. It’ll depend on what protection he was wearing. I couldn’t see them properly, I was half-stunned.”
“Well, if you were stunned and it was dark, that was a great shot,” Omnisen pointed out.
Nilsa smiled, acknowledging the compliment.
“Find them,” Gondabar said to the veteran Rangers. “Warn the Guard at the gates of the city, so that they keep an eye open for two wounded men leaving.”
“Yes, sir,” Omnisen said, and left at once with his two fellow-Rangers.
“This situation is more serious than I’d anticipated,” Gondabar admitted. “I didn’t think the Dark Rangers might try anything in the city. Firstly, because I wasn’t fully convinced of their existence… or rather I was hoping they were a myth and that in reality it was nothing more than a handful of corrupt, discontented Rangers. But this incident shows not only that they’re real, but that they have leadership and they’re daring. To attack you in Norghania is a reckless act, which implies that they had it carefully planned.”