Chapter 9
They moved as quickly as they could along the narrow, slippery ledge without risking a fall into the sewage canal. The stench was so overpowering, Alexander almost gagged.
Jack seemed to know where he was leading them. He took each turn or passed it by like he was in familiar territory. Alexander couldn’t understand why anyone would willingly set foot in such a place. It was as filthy and unpleasant a place as he’d ever been … except maybe back in the little cellar where he thought they were going to be roasted alive by Rangle.
The light from Jack’s makeshift torch began to sputter.
Anatoly stopped and asked, “Where are you leading us?” There was a hint of wariness in the question.
“There’s a hidden door just up ahead that leads into the basement of one of the local merchants. He’s a friend and, um, well, business associate. We can go through his shop to get back on the street.” He handed the spoon-made-into-a-torch to Abigail and used his knife to cut a strip of cloth from the bottom hem of his tunic, which he then carefully wrapped around the burning end of the torch to keep it from going out. He took it back and started moving again.
Jack stopped so abruptly that Anatoly bumped into Alexander in the dark as the four of them halted behind the bard. He raised his torch, looking carefully at the wall. After a minute of searching, he found a loose stone and pushed on one side. The brick swiveled, allowing access to a lever. Jack pulled the stiff metal rod and pushed on a two-foot-wide by four-foot-tall section of the wall.
They found themselves inside a cool, dry storage room lined with wooden shelves crammed with boxes, jars, cartons, and other containers. Jack carefully closed the secret door and started for the stairs leading up.
Anatoly caught his arm. “What should we expect at the top of those stairs?” Anatoly was charged with protecting Alexander and Abigail. He took his duties seriously. Jack had been helpful and was probably telling the truth about his motives but that wasn’t good enough. Anatoly needed to be sure.
Jack stopped and nodded. “My associate is usually in the showroom of his shop during the day or in the workroom just off the showroom floor. The room at the top of the stairs is a storeroom in the back of the shop. It will probably be empty and it has a door leading out the back. If we’re quiet, we should be able to slip out into the alley without anyone even noticing.” Jack was clearly offering as much information as he could. He seemed to be going out of his way to earn the trust of the big man-at-arms.
“Does your friend have any employees or others who might be in the storeroom?” Alexander asked. He allowed his vision to go out of focus so he could see Jack’s colors. He wanted to trust the bard, but the events of the past week had reinforced his father’s lessons about trust. Deception was the most powerful weapon in the arsenal of evil. A simple lie was all it took to undo whole nations. Believing a lie could cost you your life.
“His wife works with him. I don’t think he has any other help.” Jack didn’t shy away from the questions and the colors of his aura were clear and honest.
Alexander nodded.
“Okay, once we’re in the alley, what’s our plan? The Reishi Protectorate isn’t going to give up that easily. They probably have spies all around town. We left our horses back at the stables, not to mention Lucky’s wagon. Suggestions?” Alexander had decided that he was going to accept the mantle of leadership. He didn’t like it, but it was the only sensible thing he could do given the circumstances.
Lucky cleared his throat. “I’d like to get the contents of my wagon, if we can do so without notice. Many of the items I brought along are of great value and may prove very useful in the future.”
“We’re going to need horses to get to Glen Morillian,” Anatoly mused. “I suppose we could make our way back to the stables at the inn and take a look. We might get lucky. Then again, they’ll probably have someone watching our horses in case we come back. The alternative is finding horses on our way out of town and leaving ours at the stables. I don’t much like that option but it might be the safest route.”
Alexander turned to Abigail for her input. She looked almost startled to be consulted but recovered quickly and frowned in thought. “Our horses are healthier and better cared for than any we’ll find for sale and Lucky is probably understating the value of his wagon,” she gave him a smile before she went on. “Jack, does the Reishi Protectorate know you? Would they have any reason to suspect you’re with us?”
The bard frowned for a moment. “I can’t see how they could. I’ve only just met you and I’ve been careful to keep my true purpose here a secret.”
“Is there any way you could get our horses for us while we waited nearby?” Abigail asked.
Jack nodded slowly, “I think I could. I have a friend that operates a large stable just outside of town. I could pose as one of his men and tell the fire brigade I’m moving the horses to his stable. I doubt anyone would get in the way; they’ll be too busy with the fire.”
“There’s still a good chance that the Reishi Protectorate will be suspicious of anyone trying to take our horses. They’re likely to follow you.” Alexander frowned as he thought out loud. “Do you have anyone in town that you trust, anyone who would be willing to help us?”
“Of course, my apprentice Owen. In fact, I have him waiting with fresh horses in a little farmhouse just north of town. But that doesn’t help us with Lucky’s wagon. If the tricks I’ve seen him pull out of his bag are any indication, I believe he’s quite right about the contents of his wagon being very useful.”
Anatoly, ever suspicious, asked, “Why is your apprentice waiting with fresh horses?”
Jack smiled and shrugged. “I believe in being prepared. I knew you were going to pass through here and I wanted to be ready to help. I’ve used every resource at my disposal for just that purpose.” He almost looked self-conscious as he went on. “Whether you like it or not, My Lord, your story will be sung for a thousand years. I intend to be the one to write those songs.” Jack smiled briefly at the thought, then looked Alexander straight in the eye. All humor and good cheer left his face. When he was sure he had Alexander’s attention, he continued.
“I also know a little bit about Prince Phane. If he wins, then everyone who loves life and freedom will lose. I’ve read some of the histories of the Reishi War. Phane took delight in torturing his rivals. He sacrificed innocent children to the netherworld in his efforts to master the dark magic of necromancy and brought about the fall of whole countries with simple, yet apparently very convincing, lies. He is powerful, cunning, utterly ruthless, and absolutely driven by a sense of personal entitlement. In his view, the Seven Isles and every last soul alive belong to him by right.”
Silence settled into the dim room as Jack Colton’s pronouncement sank in. “You have been marked. If the Seven Isles have a chance, it rests with you. If you fail, hope will die for a thousand years.”
Some of the color drained from Alexander’s face as the magnitude of his burden settled in on him. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Very well then, we make for the farmhouse and your apprentice. We’ll send him to retrieve our horses and Lucky’s wagon while we head for the forest. I’d rather have our own horses but the risk is too great at the moment. There’s no telling what Phane can conjure so we can’t risk holding still for too long and I’d rather not make it easy for the Reishi Protectorate to pick up our trail.”
Everyone nodded in agreement.
“Jack, you go up the stairs first. Anatoly, bring up the rear,” Alexander commanded.
The narrow alley was empty when they slipped out of the little storeroom. Wagons, carts, and people filed by on the streets to either end of the space between the two buildings. The brick walls were black and wet with the morning dew; some sort of fungus grew in splotches here and there. From the angle of the buildings it looked like very little direct sunlight ever fell on these walls. Jack closed the door gently behind them.
“We should head this way. I think I can keep u
s off the main streets for most of the way and I know of a few breaches in the walls we can use to avoid the checkpoints at the city gates.”
They moved through the city like shadows, keeping to the dark and untraveled passages between the buildings. It was like moving through tunnels. The only people they encountered were the underclass who lived in the recesses of society and foraged on the scraps of others. A few tried to demand a coin here or there but Anatoly had only to brandish his war axe to convince them to recoil back into the shadows.
By noon they made it to the outer wall without drawing any attention. Jack had proven to be a careful and knowledgeable guide. He knew the city well and made each turn with confidence. He peeked around a corner to peer down the alley that led to a breach in the outer wall and just as quickly snapped back behind the corner.
“We have a problem,” he whispered to Alexander.
“What is it?” Anatoly growled before Alexander could ask.
“There are city guards at the breach. It’s just a crack in the wall. They shouldn’t be guarding it.” He shook his head. “Why would city guards be there?”
“They’ve probably been paid,” Abigail said. When everyone looked at her, she shrugged. “You don’t really believe it’s a coincidence do you?”
Alexander shook his head, “Of course not. How many did you see, Jack?”
“I saw three, but there are probably more; they travel in squads of seven, a commander and six guards.”
“Is there another way out of the city?” Lucky asked.
“There are several other breaches in the walls but none close by and I’d bet they’re all being watched as well,” Jack answered.
“Are there any buildings that butt up against the wall?” Anatoly asked. “We might be able to go over the wall from a rooftop.”
“I’m afraid not. The wall runs along a perimeter road. If we want to go over we’ll need a rope or a ladder and we’ll have to risk being seen by guards along the road,” Jack said, shaking his head.
“What about under? Do you know a way through the Southport sewers that passes under the outer walls?” Alexander spoke calmly, but he could feel a sense of fear rising within him. He felt growing certainty that these men had been paid to kill him.
“The sewers are all barred where they flow under the walls. I doubt we could get through and we’d have to backtrack quite a bit to find a way into the underground. We could make our way to the docks and try our luck on the water but I suspect we’d run into the city guard there too,” Jack said.
Alexander nodded. Anatoly stood silent, arms folded on his chest, waiting for Alexander to make a decision. Alexander could feel the big man-at-arms appraising him while he deliberated. He felt the burden that had been placed on him by an ancient curse. The mark on his neck still hurt when his collar chafed against it. He knew from his own studies of the Reishi War what would happen if Phane was allowed to reestablish the House of Reishi under his command. He’d seen it back at Valentine Manor when the zombie demon attacked. Creatures of the netherworld would haunt the innocent people of the Seven Isles at the whim of a tyrant and murderer.
But more than any of that, Alexander wanted to live. He wanted his sister to live. He desperately hoped his parents were still alive. He hadn’t asked for any of this. He didn’t want it, yet here he was.
Trapped.
He knew they couldn’t wait around until dark. Phane had abilities far beyond Alexander’s understanding. He could summon agents from the netherworld to hunt them. He could probably divine their location and send word to the men searching the city for them. In truth, there was no telling what Arch Mage Prince Phane Reishi could do.
The two things that Alexander knew for certain were that Phane would offer him no mercy and that he couldn’t afford to underestimate the Reishi Prince. The night he watched his home burn had convinced him of that.
In the back of his mind he knew what had to be done. He just desperately didn’t want to do it. Until just a few hours ago, Alexander Valentine had never killed a man. As they’d fled through the alleyways, he’d tried to keep the thought of it away from his awareness, tried to push the cold truth away into the dark recesses of his mind where he wouldn’t have to face it.
Now, standing in the narrow alley, weighing his choices, he called the ugliness of the deed out of the shadows and stared it full in the face. He, Alexander Valentine, had killed a man. He considered the truth of it and felt a sick feeling well up in the pit of his stomach. A wave of nausea swept over him and then he heard the words of his father: “Motives matter.” It was one of his father’s favorite sayings and one that Alexander could always count on hearing every time his dad had occasion to reprimand him. The sickness in his belly subsided with that thought.
He hadn’t sought out that man to kill him. That man had brought death to his door. Alexander was fighting to survive against those who were trying to kill him. He had committed no crime. Yet men, armed with steel and magic, were trying to murder him. Alexander had never done anything that justified the forfeiture of his life. He was entitled to live until he had. The man he’d killed had died in the commission of a crime. He’d come to kill and had died instead. Justice done. An emotional hardness began to take shape within him.
The men guarding the gap in the wall were little better. If they’d been paid to kill him, then they were the enemy, but Alexander had to be sure. They might just be city guard following orders. He couldn’t justify killing innocent men just because they were in his way.
When he looked up from his thoughts, all eyes were on him. “Jack, I need you to do a little scouting for us. We need to know if those guards are being paid to find us or if they’re guarding the gap for another reason. Can you do that?”
Jack nodded, “No problem. I’ll go around these buildings and come down the street, have a little chat with them and be on my way. Once I’m out of sight I’ll make my way back here.”
“Sounds good. We’ll be here,” Alexander said.
Jack headed off down the alley.
Alexander made his way to the corner of the building so he could watch from the shadows when the bard approached the city guard. He didn’t have to wait long before he heard what sounded like drunken singing. Sure enough, Jack Colton, Master Bard, came into view, weaving and singing loudly, with a flagon of ale in hand. Where he’d gotten it was a mystery to Alexander; he’d only left just a few minutes before.
Jack approached the guards and raised his glass. “A toast to the city guard of Southport, the finest city guard in all the Seven Isles.” He was talking loudly and slurring his words ever so slightly. The guards looked at Jack and then at each other.
“Move along, there’s nothing to see here.” The squad commander was all business.
“But I was going through the wall. You guys don’t usually guard the cracks in the walls.” He looked both ways conspiratorially and leaned in, speaking in an exaggerated whisper. “What’s going on?”
Alexander relaxed his focus so he could look at the guard’s colors.
“Fugitives are loose in the city. No one gets through the wall. Now move along.” The guard rested his hand on the hilt of his short sword.
Jack stepped back in a show of innocence holding both arms wide. “What’d these fugitives do? Maybe I’ve seen ’em.” He swirled the ale around in the flagon before taking a drink, all the while looking a little unsteady on his feet.
“They killed their family and burned down their parents’ house.”
Alexander’s blood ran cold. The guard’s colors revealed a corrupt character and his words were lies.
Jack blurted out, “Hey, is there a reward for their capture?”
The second guard chuckled. “Who said anything about capturing them? The Reishi are offering a hundred gold sovereigns for their heads.”
“Hold your tongue, you fool,” the guard commander snapped as he shot his subordinate a murderous glare. “There’s no reward, now move along!” he said, taking
a few steps toward Jack.
“Okay, okay, I was just askin’,” Jack said, stumbling backwards. He started down the road and turned to shout, “I just wanted to help.” Then he quickly disappeared around the corner when the guard took two purposeful strides toward him.
Alexander withdrew around the corner again. He had his answer. A deadly calm filled him. The flutter in his belly vanished. The sweat on his hands dried.
He looked straight at Anatoly, still standing quietly with his arms folded across his chest, and said, “We have to kill them quickly and get through the wall before they can call for reinforcements.”
Anatoly grinned ever so slightly, Lucky nodded slowly, but Abigail nearly gasped. “Alex, we can’t just kill them. They’ve done nothing to harm us. They’re just city guard doing their job.”
Just then Jack came up the alley.
Alexander looked his sister in the eye and shook his head to disagree with her but addressed his command to Jack, “Report.”
“They’ve been paid by the Reishi Protectorate to kill you. The price is for your head, not your capture. There are two guards on this side of the wall, one standing in the breach, another two on the other side of the wall and a crossbowman on the rooftop of this building here. I didn’t see the seventh, but I’d wager he’s armed with a crossbow and perched on a building on the other side of the wall with a good view of the breach.”
Before Alexander could speak, Anatoly nodded and said quietly, “Well done, Master Bard.”
Alexander couldn’t help smiling. “You certainly do have a flair for the dramatic.” He clapped Jack on the shoulder, “Well done, indeed.”
He turned back to his sister. “Abigail, these men are hired killers. They’ve accepted money for the job of ending your life. In doing so they’ve forfeited their right to draw breath.” He looked at her without flinching. “We have to kill them to escape with our lives.”
She didn’t look away from her brother’s scrutiny and only considered the new information for a moment before nodding. “I agree. What’s your plan?”
“I’d like to take the crossbowman out first. Do you think you can make it up that drainpipe and onto the roof without him hearing you?”
She nodded. “Then what?”
Alexander considered for a moment. “Jack and Anatoly, you go around these buildings so you can come down the street toward the guards. Jack, tell them you brought help. All you want is the description of the fugitives so you can have a chance at the reward. Abigail, you’ll be waiting on the back of the roof, out of sight, until you hear Jack and Anatoly coming. Once they’re close enough, you stick an arrow in that crossbowman’s back and then head for the front of the building.” He looked at her to make sure he had her attention. “Have another arrow ready, use it if you have a good shot, otherwise climb down onto the awning over the shops in the front, and get back on the ground so we can move. When I hear the guy on the roof fall, I’ll put an arrow into one of the guards at the breach. Then Lucky and I will head for the wall. At that point we fight our way through.”
“A sound plan,” Anatoly said grimly as he unslung his war axe. “Keep an eye out for the other crossbowman. Once we’re through the wall, we’ll have to move quickly into the back allies before more guards arrive.” He looked from Alexander to Abigail. “Remember your lessons. Let your training guide your hand.”
Thinblade (Sovereign of the Seven Isles: Book One) Page 10