The Living Sword

by Pemry Janes

  She hid her smile of satisfaction at hearing one of her attackers had succumbed to his wound after all. Leraine also noticed a brief expression sliding across the blooddrinker's face at the name, a flash of anger deep within those yellow eyes.

  “There is a limit to the price I'm willing to pay for a living sword. Being stripped of my position in the council to placate the Linesans is well over that limit.”

  “You knew getting a living sword wasn't going to be easy; that's why you put me on the job,” the blooddrinker countered, his voice betraying nothing of the anger she'd sensed earlier. “There's only a few people that know how to make 'em, and none of them were willing to take the commission. That left buying or stealing, and buying was never much of an option. But I found you a blade, one that wasn't held by some king or obscenely rich guy. So really, this mess is actually a lot better than the one you must have counted on when you told me to get you a living sword.”

  The Bone Lord's lips curled up. “You might be right.” He eyed Leraine. “Do you really think this Eurik will come here for this girl? What if he goes into hiding instead.”

  “Doesn't matter, he sticks out too much. If he doesn't come to us, I'll just go to him. And as far as the council goes, they'll settle down once you let them know you got one of Raven Eye's daughters.”

  Leraine's breath hitched and the blooddrinker noticed. “You raised a stink in Linese, remember? Or did you think you could throw your weight around and then disappear again like nothing happened?” he taunted.

  “Even the third daughter of the ruler of Urumoy could deliver some nice concessions,” the Bone Lord mused.

  “Even if I was first, Raven Eye would not pay you any ransom,” Leraine fired back through gritted teeth.

  “You understand that I won't take your word for that,” the Bone Lord replied mildly. “In the meantime, you will be my guest. I am Lord Merin. It is a pleasure to meet you,” he told her before turning to the knights. “Take her to an unoccupied cell, and make sure the guards know I want her treated well. No need to make her stay unpleasant.”

  Remaining silent, she let herself be carried off. Hard to commit the layout of the place to memory when you were knocked unconscious. So Leraine didn't curse or try to wriggle free as they descended down into the bowels of the tower. She observed, noted, and waited for her moment to strike.

  ***

  When he'd finally come across the corruption Eurik had read so much about, he'd been surprised by what it was. Or better said, that it wasn't actually something but an absence that gave the Blasted Lands its dreary, washed-out appearance.

  He could feel it now, lying amidst a copse of elms. The Earth chiri here was thin; it seemed to be missing something. Eurik couldn't tell what it was lacked; he'd never encountered this situation before. It wasn't only a little chiri, like he'd felt back at the inn when he'd tried to sleep on the bed. More like there were a few pieces missing from the puzzle. He wondered if there were other energies that were affected like this, forces that he couldn't sense.

  Eurik returned his attention to the here and now and his current obstacle. Out in the distance, when he strained his eyes, he could see the towers of Darui on the horizon. Unfortunately, between here and there were open fields and several busy farms.

  Working on those farms weren't only humans, but skeletons too. Not just the remains of cows and donkeys, there were human undead walking around doing the same work in death that they had done in life.

  There were differences between these animated skeletons and the mounts of the Knights Scapular. These undead were not clad in a shell of magical energy, but only had bands of it connecting the various bones and animating the remains. A few living people worked alongside them, but he was more worried about the undead spotting him.

  Especially the bird skeleton, no bigger than a sparrow, squatting on top of the farm. They seemed to be keeping an eye on their own people as much as they were on the look out for intruders. And they were the reason Eurik had been forced to travel underground half the time.

  'And that's what I'll have to do now. No way around it.' He glanced over at Darui again. 'But I better leave most of my stuff here. It'll be easy to find this place again and I'll need every advantage for this next part.' Closing his eyes, he gathered the chiri he needed. It took longer than normal before Eurik sank into the ground.

  ***

  Making his way underneath Darui turned out to be both easier and harder than Eurik thought it would be. The city was mostly built on top of bedrock so he didn't have to worry as much that his tunneling might cause a collapse, but he had to do all the tunneling himself. There were no sewers in Darui, something Eurik hadn't expected after coming across them in Linese and Campan.

  Another obstacle was the language he overheard. In his headlong rush to get here, Eurik had forgotten that they didn't speak Linesan in these lands, but a dialect of Irelian. A language related to Linesan, but still quite different and Eurik's command of it was poor.

  And he would need to find someone who could speak a language he did understand, because he had some questions that needed an answer. Like which of the many towers dotting the city belonged to Lord Merin.

  “I don't suppose you can understand them?” he sighed.

  “Actually, I think I can,” Misthell revealed, sounding surprised himself.

  “You can? That's great, did anybody say anything about a Lord Merin?”

  “Nope, not a word.”

  Eurik closed his eyes and tried to think. He hadn't slept much, hadn't eating in a week save bread, cheese, and two dried-out apples. He felt grimy from all the dirt he'd been digging through and his water-bottle was pretty much empty. Now he had to find a way to navigate a city he didn't know, filled with people he couldn't understand, and he had to so without getting spotted.

  “What if we went to those towers and knocked on their doors saying we had a delivery for Lord Merin?” Misthell asked.

  “I don't think they'll buy that act.”

  “Right then, how about we pick one at random?”

  “I'd prefer it if we could narrow things down a bit. I've spotted fifteen of those towers so far.”

  “Oh, that's easy. We can ignore the smaller ones and the ones that look like their owner is skimping on maintenance. The guy we're after has to be really rich to afford the network Rik alluded to. I doubt it was put in place just for you, and maintaining something like that takes serious coin.”

  Eurik could quibble with that. Like how someone might skimp on displays of wealth in favor of an intelligence network, but at least it was a way forward.

  ***

  He'd decided not to go for the tallest tower, but for one that was slightly shorter and in close vicinity to two other towers. The tower, a rectangular spire of stark granite, was surrounded by a cluster of buildings which in turn were separated from the rest of a city by a wall of gray bricks.

  There were two entrances into the complex, with only the large one being guarded. Not that security was lax, because the same undead birds that had frustrated his journey to Darui, also kept an eye out here.

  At least the tunnels he'd made underneath the city would serve in an escape. Eurik had to be careful as he dug underneath the wall. He could sense cellars, wells, and what was probably a cesspit. He steered clear of that one and opted to connect his tunnel to one of the cellars.

  Eurik knew better than to just push the cellar's wall out of the way; it created too much noise and the hole would be noticeable for anybody that came investigating. Instead, he careful rotated them to create an opening he could squirm through, before closing the opening behind him.

  He'd hoped to find some food here, but had no such luck. He could make out shapes in the darkness, things that looked like crates, and his outstretched hand landed on a roll of cloth. But mostly, it seemed, it was used to store dust. Lots and lots of dust.

  'Time to find somebody who I can ask a few questions.' Eurik slowly made his way to what he thought was the
door. The feel of its iron hinges was a beacon he couldn't miss. What he did miss, until after he tried to open the door, was the lock.

  Laying his hand flat on the keyhole, Eurik connected with the chiri in the iron. He'd never tried this, but he was familiar with the theory behind locks. In one position it secured the door, but if you turned it, you could open the door. You were supposed to use a key for that, but Eurik figured he could do without.

  It took a while to figure out the parts, what should turn and what should stay as it was, if he didn't want to mangle the lock so that it didn't work at all. But finally it ratcheted open.

  The hallway beyond was as cold and dark as the room he just stepped out of, but Eurik still breathed a little freer.

  “You know, when they tell these stories about the heroes crawling through dungeons, they never mention the lack of proper lighting,” Misthell said.

  “Ah, but we're not in a dungeon,” Eurik countered.

  “Yeah, when I tell this story, that's the part I'll be leaving out.”

  A chuckle escaped his lips before he clamped his hand over his mouth. Frozen, Eurik listened for any reaction, but there was only silence. Relieved, he started to head for what felt like a staircase again.

  “We need to be quiet now,” Eurik reminded his sword. “I don't want to cause any alarm, especially when we don't even know if we have the right tower yet.”

  “And I'll be leaving that part out too,” Misthell muttered.

  Chapter 8

  Race to the Top

  Leraine sat in her cage, which was suspended off of the floor by a thick chain, with her eyes closed. She listened for the sounds of dinner, of cups slamming on tables and knifes scraping plates. She was waiting for her moment, and that moment had just arrived.

  When they'd put Leraine in this empty cell, naked save for her undergarments, they had neglected to put her in chains. No doubt because of the Bone Lord's orders. Her jailers hadn't even done a thorough job of searching her. What they had done, though, was cut off her draen. The hair would grow back, the various decorations could easily be replaced, but the small saw she'd had hidden in the braid would have been very useful right now.

  'But that's not my only hiding place,' Leraine thought as she retrieved a small lock picking-set from underneath her breechcloth. 'Ransoming me like I'm some Irelian princess.' She eased the first pick into the lock. 'Thinking they can hold me like I'm the vain offspring of a Linesan noble.' Her fingers found the tumblers with practiced ease and moments later the lock clicked open.

  Leraine took care to hide her tools before opening the cage's door and stepping out onto the cold stone floor. She barely noticed the rat scurrying into a corner; her senses were fixated on the other side of the cell's door.

  She'd been patient. She'd let them settle into a routine and had gotten familiar with that routine before making her move. Leraine had entertained the notion of waiting for some diversion before making her own move, like Rock blundering to her rescue. But the chance of that happening was slim.

  Leraine first went to the small, barred window of her cell. Jumping up, she grabbed the bars and pulled herself up. Using her teeth and a single hand, she tied a strip of cloth around one of the bars. Letting go, she landed in a crouch before making her way to the door.

  She pressed herself against the rough wall next to the door, waiting for one of the guards to bring her food. Just like they had done the day before, and the day before that.

  He was the youngest, the lowest member of their little group. Saddled with the work the others didn't want to do. Inexperienced, he would open the door and walk in. He'd stop when he saw her missing from her cage. His eye would catch sight of the strip of cloth and in his panic it would seem reasonable that she'd escaped through the narrow gaps in the bars. By the time he realized that wasn't the case, Leraine would already have made use of the distraction.

  There was a good chance things wouldn't work out that way. Irelith had always cautioned her against relying on plans that were too clever. And if things did go wrong, well, Leraine would just have to cross that bridge when she got to it.

  Finally, the door swung open and he trudged in. “I got something for ya,” an older voice slurred. Another set of footsteps followed him into her cell. Neither of them were the boy she'd counted on. Her plan was already going awry, but Leraine kept herself from thinking about that and swung the door shut behind them.

  “I don't see her,” the second guard said. He was behind the first guard and didn't sound as drunk as him, he would go first. “Did she—” a yell of pain cut him off as Leraine kicked him in the back of the knee. He was still busy falling to his knees when she pilfered his club and knocked him over the head with the ashen rod.

  The other guard had turned around by now, his eyes wide at seeing Leraine, he started to open his mouth. Perhaps to raise the alarm, or maybe to express his surprise at seeing her, but she didn't give him the chance. A hard jab to crush his gullet had the guard wrapping his hands around his throat, gasping for air.

  Ignoring the dying man she returned her attention to the guard whose weapon she'd taken. He lay on the ground, vomit staining the stones underneath him, but he was conscious. Another strike with the club took care of that.

  “Gibbens!” A voice roared from outside the cell. “I turn my back and you go doing what I told you not to do,” the jailer's commander complained. Leraine had already taken up her position besides the door. “It's going to be my hide when Lord Merin finds out you screwed the savage.”

  This time, when the door opened, Leraine didn't wait for the man to enter the cell. Holding one end of the rod in each of her hands, she avoided the boiled leather armor protecting the commander's torso entirely in favor of driving the middle of the club into his face, stunning him. Then she looped the weapon over his head and pulled it down so that the commander's face met her rising knee. Leraine could hear something crunch when she did it again. Limply, the man fell to the floor.

  'Not as planned, but if they keep coming at me one by one like this it is actually going to be easier,' Leraine thought as she looked down and spotted the short sword at the commander's side. She reached for it when the ground trembled. From up above, the sound of many feet running reached Leraine's ears. Closing her eyes, she sighed. 'Irelith warned you about exactly this, but you went ahead and did it anyway. Never sell a skin you don't yet have.'

  Drawing the short sword with her right while holding the club in her left, Leraine got up again and stepped into the hallway. At the other end, the first of her jailers started to spill out of their room. 'You wanted a distraction.'

  ***

  A pillar of earth catapulted Eurik over the wall and out of the complex that had turned out to be the wrong one. “She said it was the tall one closer to the lake, right?” he checked with Misthell even as he ran for what he thought was the right tower. Behind them, torches were lit and alarms were raised. Hopefully, they hadn't noticed he'd left already.

  “The one with a blue banner showing a crouching hippogriff, that's what the cook said,” the living sword confirmed.

  Looking up, Eurik could see a blue banner hanging from the tower he headed for, and it did have such a creature in gold thread which reflected what little light there was. “Broken Fang, here I come.”

  On reaching the wall, Eurik didn't slow down but simply used the same trick he'd used to leave the last mansion. He sailed over the head of a guard who peered in the direction of the tower he'd just left, no doubt wondering what the commotion was all about.

  Eurik did nothing to stop him from raising the alarm, it would be best if everybody was awake for this. Especially if people left the tower. Running towards it, he pointed and pulled. The wall bulged and masonry flew out of his path exposing the room to the outside.

  Startled, two guards clad in mail rose from their table. One pulled a small iron mace while the other went for a spear and shield resting against the wall. Both, however, weren't wearing helmets and Eurik
could connect with their armor. He hurled them through the room and out the hole he'd just made.

  He didn't check to see if they got up. Instead, Eurik opted to go deeper into the building.

  ***

  Leraine slid her bracers on and checked to see if the poisoned throwing spikes were still in their place. It, and her clothes, were the only pieces of her gear she'd found. She'd known that her boots and cuirass had been left behind in Campan, but she had hoped they'd taken her pouch with them. If they had, it wasn't here. Neither were her swords, but Leraine knew who had those; the Bone Knight that had captured her using that wand of his.

  Barefoot, she walked out of the guard's room, careful not to step on the corpses. It was easy to trip on those, and hunting down a blooddrinker with a sprained ankle was a challenge Leraine could do without.

  She'd traded in her club for a dagger, with a second one secured behind her back, and stalked up the spiral staircase holding it in her left while she'd switched her short sword to her right hand. It lacked the reach she was used to, it had more weight, but Leraine would manage. The dungeon's guards would attest to that, if they still could.

  Leraine stopped when she heard people hastening down the stone steps. The stairs were fairly narrow, giving her little room to maneuver. The same was true for her opponents, but they wouldn't need it. Setting the dagger on one of the steps as silently as possible, Leraine drew a throwing spike from her right bracer and waited for them to come to her. Her toes strained to keep her balanced on the narrow end of the step, but she ignored it.