He sat down at the table and took up a quill pen, dipped it in purple ink and began writing…”
After a few moments he looked up, “You're still here… why?”
She finished her glass of wine and rose, “I shall re-gain your confidence, you will see, I will see to your legacy,” and with that she left with as much grace as she could muster.
“You will do as I command,” he said out loud after she had left, “as does everyone in the end, like it or not.”
While he had a daughter, he would need sons to see his ambitions to fruition. His wives had both died in a boating accident on the River Seldane, he was one of the few males that took advantage of the law allowing polygamy, and they had both gone and got themselves killed before they could do their job as breeders… He simply had not the time in the last decade to replace them.
He returned to writing, “Not that you my dear are likely to be the one to produce my sons, not likely at all…” he quipped to himself
~
He could hear the cathedral bells in the distance chiming Compline, “Is it only six o'clock,” he wondered? He got up and silently approached the door, put his ear next to the thick wood listening, then using his magic he sent out a small probe of the area, and as expected he sensed lots of nearby sentient beings the closet as best as he could tell was thirty yards to the left, near the strait, “Damn thing doesn't work well indoors,” he complained not for the first time and hopefully not the last, but as things seemed to going, of that he was not at all certain.
Myst unlocked the interrogation room door with the silver key that Captain Damien Favier had left on the table. He stepped out into the hall as if he belonged there and moved assuredly toward the central stairway, unfortunately for Myst one of the guards sitting at the security checkpoint was one of the Constables who had rode guard on the RC coach that brought him in. He jumped to his feet and Myst backhanded the side of his neck with just enough force to take him down but not do real damage, “I won't hurt my own people,” Myst thought as sprinted into the landing of the stairs and started up “well not to much.”
A klaxon started ringing throughout the building, he could hear Constables rushing to the interrogation rooms, they would be only a minute behind him he knew.
Out onto the roof into the darkening late twilight’s cold misting drizzle he dashed, look around and spotted the fire escape, he broke into a run, his pursuit must have gone down expecting him to try for the well protected main entry gate…
He stepped over the roof onto the metal ladder, grasp the outside of it with his hands and feet and slid down to the landing on the next floor. Here the fire ladder was pulled up and locked in place to prevent access from the ground two floors below, Myst swung out onto it, then hit the release lever. Smoothly the mechanism released and he road the ladder down to the deserted street.
“Twuuee weee,” the sound of the strange high low whistle of the City Watch broke the quiet from the corer to the west.
He ran the opposite way, trying to remember the layout of this part of the city, “The Square Royale should be just south of here… Best not go there, only ways in or out and narrow gates with lots of private security for the wealth townhomes, and the linden trees have lost their leaves so no hiding up in them...”
A pair of city watchmen came running around the corner behind him and the chase was on, two more joined in at the next intersection. Myst suddenly turned right into an almost hidden ally that had a set of stairs leading down a to a lower level street. Seemingly recklessly he raced down them leaping the last part all together, turned left on the street and dashed in front of a delivery wagon causing the driver to attempt a panic stop, the wagon rolled and crates of chickens went everywhere.
Another hard left at the next corner and Myst threw up an arm to protect his face as he crashed thru an open glass shop door.
“Shit, that hurt…”
Two of the city watch were running on the opposite sidewalk staying a pace of Myst, looking for an opportunity to cross over to his side. One put his whistle to his lips just as a milk cart came out of a blind gate, they crashed into it with such force as to wind up laying flat on their backs underneath the cart in a tumbled heap.
Myst sprinted ahead to an underground passage that went below a row of apartment buildings the sound of his boots echoing from the surrounding tannish stone bricks, then to another street and then another turn, always working southward. He ran through an interior courtyard between a rows of buildings, wrought iron trellises with dormant vines, a few small evergreen shrubs giving a flash of color, he turned left again thru a door and into a cobblestone street, he barely looked as he ran across and into another dark passageway.
“Damn I’m in the Square Royale’s park!” He looked around noticed the space while small park was a fraction of the size of the Square Royale, “Ok, where am I, which way is south…”
Myst ran up a set of a half dozen stone steps to a razed section, manicured cypress trees, decorative thirty gallon size stone urns awaiting the springs flowers, a bigger than life size statue of an elven angel with a spear, there was an opening between buildings to another courtyard he thought so. It lead to a large double carriage tunnel to possibly a main street he hoped. He dashed into it, dodged over barrels that were stacked along both sides, then out to the street.
No, it was a narrow alleyway long but so narrow he could almost touch each side with outstretched fingers, he turned right and ran, rubbish and brush filled the obviously not well used path. Finally he came out on a main street, turned left toward the canal and kept going at a quick pace as the street was full of people going about their evening business, he tried to blend in, just one of them late for dinner...
More whistles from well behind, he cut down a narrow alley until he found a low planter, he leaped on it and then up to catch hold of a decorative iron railing of a second story faux balcony, he pulled himself up. Next there was a magic wrought iron light attached higher on the wall to his left, he jumped and swung over on a hotel sign, that thankfully did not give way to his weight. Standing on top he could jump and reach the next window balcony and then the next until moments later he was scrambling up onto the roof top.
He was somehow well past the southeast corner of the Square Royale, the sight of a former royal residence that had been demolished to make the square and park long before there had been an empire, just the old Kingdome of Avissant- Gondalin, it was now home to the wealthy aristocrats. Normally he would have been happy to have stopped there, but not tonight.
“I must have run alot faster than I normally do.., and should be outside their containment perimeter.” He carefully checked the streets below, “Now if no one noticed me climbing up, I should be able to follow the Avenue of the Little Smell to the city canal.” The name came from the tanneries in the area that produced a decidently unpleasant ‘little smell’.
He was able to use the roofs to go the half mile to the canal, occasionally he had to leap over an ally, but made it to the park near the water without discovery and then crossed the Bethune Bridge as part of the normal pedestrian traffic to the south bank.
Above Myst favorite pastry shop was at number eight Avenue Buci the six story building was set on a narrow cobblestone street, the sandstone color building was also rather narrow less than eighteen feet wide, with the flats above the shop having three small windows, each with a decorative iron work in faux balconies, it was averagely pretty as most of them in this district were. But it was not the amazing raspberry tart that brought Myst there, the roof of the building was such as the wall separating the building on each side were unusually high with rows of chimney pots, the building across the street had no windows just a large mural painting of fruits and vegetables in a garden. The rear of the small roof faced only the blank sloping roof of another connected building. Only from the air could this area be seen, and on one side in a nook if you pressed in the right place a hidden panel would pop open revealing Myst hide out, or maybe hide closet.
as it was only three and a half feet wide and eight and a half feet deep.
He stepped in and shut the door, a week blue magic light shone from right above his head in the low ceiling. It was not much to look at, but on desperate occasions it was the difference between life and death. Here out of the rain and cold, the room sandwiched between two chimneys it was actually toasty warm, and highly warded against magic intrusion, here he could rest, plan, and resupply with food, money and weapons.
He also had a detailed map on the city as he was not familiar with his next target location, a cycle shop on Avenue Sirius.
“Looks like it’s near the end of Avenue Saint Dominique, less than 2 miles from here. Good, the less exposure on the streets the better.., hum, let's see what I can use.”
First he went to the weapons rack; he pulled out a thin shortsword with a single twenty one inch blackened blade, it was meant for night assignations, quick and deadly in close quarters. It felt light, he rotated his wrist and the blade hummed thru the air, seeming to almost thirst for blood, he strapped it to his back. It had Myst knew, magical enchantments for speed, lightness and sharpness, but nothing overtly evil or sentient about the weapon, just a dark history.
He had ‘obtained’ it from the Black Talon assassins in far Madras, capital of the Star Elf Empire of Naya. They had learned the hard way Myst wasn't an easy mark, not nearly as easy as their client had implied to get a bargain contract. The client, a crime lord who had kidnaped the wife of a diplomat and sold her into white slavery, Myst had recovered her and disrupted his operation and that infuriated the crime lord who was not used to such disappointments.
The Black Talon’s had use their ex-client as an example to those who lie to them and try and cheat them! The good old tieing a bucket of rats to the stomach of the victim and setting the end on fire trick… A very effective lesson, that cured the crime lord of all his problems...
He had a choice of multiple daggers, but decided on the Raven's Claw a nine inch blade that was made for silent killing, that went into a back of the belt sheath.
He grabbed a black shoulder bag, into it went a hand crossbow and a packet of the small steel tip bolts it shot, a couple of health potions that he thought were probably still good, they had been up here a while, so long he did not remember putting them here, “oh well some magical healing would be better than none.”
From the top of a set of shelves he pulled out a money pouch, about the equivalent of two thousand Silver Crowns in mixed coins. That went onto his belt.
Lastly he grabbed a heavy traveling cloak in a stone grey color, it was warm, rain proof, and the hood would help hide his identity. That would do for now.
He popped the door, looked around, opened it fully and exited the hidden closet, closed it silently and went back down the narrow old buildings stairs to the street, where he bought one of his favorite raspberry tarts at Carton Bakery… He just could not resist, and he had missed dinner after all and needed to keep up his, oh hell he just loved the things and you never knew when he would have the chance again...
He was only three hundred and eighty feet from his apartment a few streets away, “but that would be watched that was sure, so no going back there until this was over… or I have to flee the country until the Emperor who was only five hundred and eighty something, died and Galen was crowned to replace him..., in what three centuries or so.”
He finished the tart and started walking up the street, “Well, Florenta was pleasant this time of year, Kayla would love it having lived there before, and so similar to the Old Andalis I’d feel right at home. It was a thought, I’ll have to think on it if everything kept going to shit...” He made sure his hood was pulled low and not because of the misting drizzle.
~
Chapter 12
Paras Korfu and Shen Ramzes were at the cycle shop that was really a front for the Shadow Elf Foreign Intelligence in Palantar. They were waiting to make contact with the Sun Elf bitch to giver her the El Sila Mor fulcrum device to use with the Black Pearl they had already provided. The magical black spell pearl would not work without it. It was when joined and put into place their effort would be finally complete.
Paras thought, “I can’t believe how gullible the Sun Elf Bitch is, I had expected more from one of their ruling females… She's even dumber than my partner, and far less capable. She never would have survived to reach adulthood in Shadar. One of her sisters would have drowned her in the river Nguru for being so weak and stupid.” She sat on a countertop waiting, “Aren't you cold Shen? Your outfit is more suitable to home in Shadar city than here in winter…”
Her partner was barely wearing a leather strap halter one piece that left her butt cheeks exposed to the air. “Maybe she thinks the leather bracers trimmed in fur and above the knee boots are enough to blend into the northern city in winter. What an idiot...”
Paras had on a black leather short jacket trimmed in fur with matching pants and boots, just like what many of the locals had on, “blending in what an idea…, how did Shen ever get chosen to be a spy… and enforcer sure she had that brutal skill, but a spy? The dumb bitch will get caught, but that’s not my problem, as long as she does not bring me down as well.”
Shen looked over at her, “I can hardly move in all that clothing, let alone fight! Besides I’m disguised as a Wild Elf, this is what they wear in the wild.” Shen had looking over a set of plans to their target, all they had to do was make sure no one interfered with the site so when the Sun Elf Bitch did her part everything would work.
“Hum, in the south maybe they do, but not here or in the winter, the idea is to blend in and not attract attention… Besides, aren't you cold?”
“But, well yes it’s damn cold, I can’t wait to get back to our jungles.”
“If you make it back…”
Shen looked at her, “What’s that supposed to mean, a threat from you?”
“You failed at killing Colonel Myst… Not that I mind you understand as I've yet to get him into my bed, but the Dark Lord… I’m afraid he does not share my love for you dear sister.”
“I serve the Dark Goddess,” Shen started.
Paras interrupted “even as a snack for the Dark Lord…?” She was slowly kicking her feet back and forth in boredom, even tormenting Shen was not as entertaining as it usually was.
“Also Shen, you screwed up your disguise spell, again… Your eyes are still yellow, that’s even more or a problem than an annoyed Dark Lord.”
Shen rushed to the mirror to confirm Paras statement, “Damn, damn! I can’t recast it today!” She was not quit panicking yet, she thought “The Dark Lord will kill me if he sees this mistake, and my mistress would not blame him for it as she would kill me herself. And any Sun Elf will take my head on sight...”
“Just keep your head down for now, don't make eye contact with anyone. When you get to the boat make sure you put on your cloak and keep the hood up.” Paras hopped off the counter, “I’m going to head over to the boat and load our equipment,” Paras told her, “unless you need me to hold your hand for this…”
Shen glared at her, “You just want to screw Agnarr again…”
Paras smiled sweetly and yet completely insincerely, “He’s more your type sister, just one step up from a Horc… but now you mentioned it, it might be a good way to kill some time…”
With that she started to leave the shop after checking the mirror to insure her disguise was still in place. She knew the spell that changed her skin tone would not wash off, but still she checked to see if her amber eyes were the dark brown color, just in case, don’t want repeat Shen’s mistake…
She paused before leaving, “Shen, if your that on edge, we have a half dozen Horc mercs guarding the shop, pick one or two and work out your frustrations…” Parras laughed, “Just don’t let Dar Krell catch you, she won’t like you messing around with her crew!”
Shen ground her teeth in anger, “Blah, that Horc bitch works for us, she should know her place.”
/> The mercenary captain Dar Krell was five inches taller than Shen and a good extra thirty pounds of corded muscle, a former pit fighter, even Shen was wary of confronting the humorless Horc leader.
Parras just smiled in response as the little bell above the door dinged as she pulled it open and walked out… “Gods, I would pay good coin to see you try that Shen, it’s been so awfully dull lately,” she thought in amusement, “It’s just sad when a Horc females is better looking than an true Elf... and not that I would try and seduce Dar Krell, I don’t like it as rough as I’m sure she gives…” She laughed quietly as she hurried into the crowed streets, “actually I would have to pass on both of them as neither meet my standards for attractiveness in females, and they don’t possess the useful equipment of males. What good are they then?”
Shen Ramzes glared at the back of the shop door as if it was the cause of all her disappointments… It didn't respond, so she went back to studying her diagrams.
A few minutes later the bell rang as the door opened, Shen looked up her left hand resting on the hilt of her saber. An Elf hooded in a fine soft grey cape the color of new mist walked in.
“Do you have it,” she asked, then supplied without needing to be prompted this time, “I want followed.”
“I know, if you had you wouldn't have made it into the shop alive…” Shen reached under the counter and pulled out a small black bag and pushed it across.
That was not technically true Shen knew, the watchers would have signaled her, and then simply killed anyone following her, but it was more fun to torment ‘the Sun Elf Bitch’ than assuage her worries.
“I’m not her nursemaid,” she thought, then outloud, “Just make sure to do the job right.”
The Sun Elf straightened her shoulders in indignation, “I know what I must do Dark Fey, mind your own task…” She grabbed the bag and stalked out of the door.
“Good, better anger than nervousness… And as soon as she clears the area I can finally get out of here, out of this city and out of this cold continent.”
Darkness has Fallen (Elf World Saga Book 2) Page 15