Assassin's Charge: An Echoes of Imara Novel

by Claire Frank

  The harbor was well protected by a crescent-shaped peninsula that curled out from the far end of the city. Lamps rocked on poles down the docks, their lights winking in and out as the masts of the ships passed in front of them. Rhis narrowed her eyes, trying to see if she could make out the Maiden, but in the dim light of dusk it was difficult to tell.

  “Is she there?” Rhis asked as they paused to gaze at the city.

  “That’s her,” Rickson said, pointing.

  Asher stepped up between them. “Are you sure? I can’t even see it for sure, and my vision is better than yours.”

  Rickson glanced at the boy. “Is it, now?”

  “Seems so,” Asher said, with a shrug.

  Rhis suppressed a chuckle. “We all want the ship to be here, but we won’t know if it is until we go down and find out.”

  With Rickson leading, they picked their way down the steep path toward the only road into the city. The street followed the rise and fall of the land, winding in between the tall buildings, and street lamps gave off a soft glow. A group of children playing in a doorway broke into a fit of whispers as they passed, but most people ignored them. Rhis kept her hood raised and her eye out for notices bearing her likeness. There was one pinned to a building, fluttering in the breeze, but the ink was smudged and one side torn.

  As they approached the wharf, Rickson’s back straightened and his swagger returned. A slow smile spread over his face and he gave Rhis a wink. “Now that is a sight.”

  The Maiden’s figurehead stood out among the ships. It was tied up farther down the wharf, near the end. Rickson took a step forward, but stopped short.

  “Guards,” he said.

  Two uniformed men guarded the entrance to the wharf. Rhis could see several more walking up and down the wooden planks, and two were stationed directly in front of the Maiden. Rickson quickly turned, and they followed him back the way they’d come. A road ran parallel to the water, lined with shops and taverns, and they didn’t stop until they’d gone partway up the street.

  Rickson crossed his arms and the flickering lamplight cast dancing shadows across his face. “Bloody bastards won’t take my ship.”

  “They looked like local city guard,” Rhis said. “Not Guild, or anyone higher up.”

  Rickson took a deep breath and ran his hands up and down his face. “You two find us a room for the night. I’m sick to death of sleeping outside. I’ll go find out where they’re keeping my crew.”

  “Be careful,” Rhis said. She almost felt foolish for saying so—she was pointing out the obvious.

  He nodded and scratched his beard. “I will. I reckon this beard will help. My boys won’t even recognize me.”

  Rhis took Asher to a building with a faded sign out front bearing a crude drawing of a bed. It was either an inn or a whorehouse, and Rhis didn’t much care which, as long as she could buy a place to sleep that wasn’t on the ground. She couldn’t remember the last time her back hadn’t ached, and her ribs were still tender. The innkeeper showed them to a small room with two narrow beds. Rhis dropped her pack and fell onto the mattress. It was musty and uneven, with bits of straw poking out from the ends, but she didn’t care. She hadn’t slept in a real bed, even a poor one, in weeks. Without quite meaning to, she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

  ***

  A tap on her shoulder woke Rhis with a start. Her hand flew to her belt knife, but Rickson leaned in close and spoke in a low whisper.

  “I found Ewan.”

  Rhis blew out a breath, her heart pounding. “Don’t scare me like that. Where is he?”

  “Locked up near the wharf,” he said. “The good news is, it isn’t heavily guarded. They have one overnight guard, and he sleeps there. One sleeping guard shouldn’t be too difficult to deal with.”

  “What’s the bad news?”

  “What makes you think there’s bad news?” Rickson asked, and Rhis raised an eyebrow. “The bad news is there’s no way in except the locked front door, not even a rear entrance. I watched it for a while, and it’s quiet, but I don’t know how we’ll get in without waking the guard. There’s a bell at the top and I’m sure the bell-pull is inside. We spook the guard, he’ll wake the whole town.”

  Rhis sat up, swung her legs around the side of the bed, and winced as she stretched her back. The bed wasn’t much better than the ground. “Windows?”

  “Tiny ones with thick glass.”

  “That doesn’t help. I guess we’ll have to go take a look.”

  “What about Ash?” Rickson asked.

  Rhis glanced at Asher, sleeping on the other bed. “Wake him. I don’t want him out of my sight.”

  ***

  The hour was late and the streets deserted, although a few voices drifted up from the dockside taverns. They walked down the street, hurrying through the pools of light from the street lamps, and approached the jail house. It was a tall, narrow structure, covered in gray stucco, with a few small windows set high above the street. The front door was of course locked, but there was no sign the building was guarded from the outside.

  Rhis put her hands on her hips and craned her neck to look at the roof. It was flat with a stone chimney on one side, a bell hanging from a wooden housing on the other. She was hoping for signs of an attic, which might have an opening they could use to break in, but she didn’t see anything.

  “We have to get in there?” Asher asked.

  Rhis nodded. “Indeed we do. Ewan is inside.”

  “And then we have to get the ship back?” he asked.

  “You catch on quick,” Rhis said, her tone wry. Her eyes drifted to the chimney and she watched it in silence for a long moment.

  “What do you think?” Rickson asked.

  “I think there’s no fire in the fireplace.”

  Rickson glanced at her. “What?”

  “There isn’t any smoke coming out of the chimney.”

  “You aren’t suggesting….” Rickson said, his voice trailing off.

  “We go down the chimney, yes.”

  “Oh no,” Rickson said. “That’s a vertical stone coffin.”

  Rhis patted him on the arm. “Don’t worry, you won’t fit. Unfortunately, I don’t think I will either.”

  “So we’re back to no plan,” Rickson said.

  “If only we had someone smaller,” Rhis said.

  She and Rickson both swung their gazes to Asher and the boy’s mouth dropped open.

  “Go down the chimney?” he asked. Rhis couldn’t be sure in the dim light, but his face seemed to pale.

  “We’ll climb up together and I’ll help you down with a rope,” Rhis said. “You know how to move quietly; once you get in, all you have to do is sneak downstairs and let us in.”

  “What if I wake the guard?”

  “Don’t wake the guard,” Rhis said. Asher opened his mouth to reply but Rhis held up a hand. “Don’t wake the guard.”

  They crept around to the back of the building, out of the illumination of the street lamps. Rhis had come prepared, and she took out her grappling hook. After making sure the rest of her gear was secure, she tossed the hook up onto the roof. It scraped against the stone before it caught, and Rhis tugged a few times to make sure it would hold.

  “You first,” she said to Asher.

  He took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together. Grabbing the rope, he hoisted himself up, climbing hand over hand and using his feet against the wall. Rhis waited until he was up and over the edge, then scurried up the wall after him while Rickson waited below.

  The chimney stones were cool; although a layer of soot stained the inside, no smoke drifted from below. The opening was narrow, and Rhis debated whether she might fit. Despite her assurances to Rickson and Asher, sending the boy down made her nervous. What if he got stuck? But as she looked into the dark opening, she knew she’d never make it down.

  Asher leaned over, looking down into the blackness, then glanced up at Rhis and swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”

 
Rhis gave him a confident smile. “Absolutely. I’ll help lower you with the rope. We’ll go slow and you’ll slip right in. Once inside, all you have to do is unlock the front door. Simple.”

  He nodded, but his wide eyes betrayed his fear.

  Rhis put a hand on his arm. “You’ll be okay. I promise.”

  Asher took a deep breath and nodded again. Rhis tied a rope around his waist and he climbed onto the chimney, swung his legs over, and started his descent. Letting the rope slide through her hands, she used the top edge of the chimney for leverage and braced her feet against the rough stone of the roof. Although she couldn’t see down, the rope moved at a steady pace. It stopped and the line went slack, so she pulled up the rope, coiled it, and fastened it to her belt. Using her grappling hook, still wedged against the chimney stone, she scaled back down the wall.

  “Did he get down all right?” Rickson asked when her feet were back on the ground.

  “Of course he did,” she said. She tried to project assurance, but her heart pounded and her stomach turned over. What if the guard caught Asher? Or he couldn’t get the door unlocked? Rhis chewed her lip as they lingered on the side of the building, taking turns peeking around the front to see if Asher had come out.

  After what felt like an eternity, the door opened a crack and Asher poked his head out. Rhis breathed a sigh of relief, and she and Rickson crept inside.

  The interior was dim, only a hazy bit of light coming in through the small windows. The foyer was empty, with a closed door at the back and an opening to a stairway on one side.

  “Guard is upstairs,” Asher said. “He’s snoring and it smells like wine up there. Ewan must be in there.” He pointed to the door.

  Rhis reached into a pocket for a tool, but Asher gave her a wide grin and held up a ring with several keys. “Well done,” she said, taking the keys. They walked over to the door and one of the keys fit. The lock clicked and they eased open the door, wary of creaking wood and squeaky hinges.

  Ewan sat up from the low pallet. “Who’s there?”

  Rickson stepped forward and shushed him. “It’s me, Ewan, the captain. Let’s go.”

  “Shit, Cap, I didn’t expect to see you,” Ewan said.

  They stole out and locked the cell door behind them. Rhis figured it would give the guards something to argue over in the morning, and possibly delay their search. She locked the front door as well, but kept the keys, tucking them into an inside pocket, just in case. The small group made their way through the streets of the town, back to the room Rhis had rented.

  Asher was smudged with soot, but his face was bright with triumph. Ewan thanked him profusely and Rickson shook his hand, offering his congratulations on a job well done.

  “What in the name of the gods happened, Ewan?” Rickson asked when they were shut back in their room.

  “We’ve had a rough time of it since you left,” Ewan said. “We went to Sunhold and picked up the goods, but Guards came snooping around the docks, asking about you. We sneaked out of there right quick—got lucky with a bit of wind—but I think if we’d stayed on another day, we’d have been sunk. As it is, we had Guild members sniffing around at the next port. We made like I was captain then, not just temporary. Hope you know, I didn’t mean no disrespect by it. It was clear there was too many men looking for you, so we made up a tale about you being dead. Kept it vague.”

  “It’s all right,” Rickson said. “How did you end up in that jail?”

  “We waited just offshore for a few days, but the boys was getting restless and we had need of more than a few supplies. Our stops kept being cut short by one thing or another, so we figured we’d drop anchor and send in a few boys, rather than risk the dock. That plan didn’t work, as you can see. City Guard rowed out to greet us. Not so friendly, them. We could have fought back, but it would have been close, and I know how you don’t like to get on the wrong side of the law—not out in the open where they’ll notice, anyway.”

  “Where’s the rest of the crew?” Rickson asked.

  “On the Maiden, last I knew. I’ve only been here a couple days. Men keep arguing about who gets to question me first, so I’ve just been sitting.”

  “Arguing? Who?” Rickson asked.

  “Who isn’t?” Ewan said. “Cap, you must have half the Empire after you. There’s a bloke from the Guild supposed to be on his way, so the local Guard have been afraid to do anything with us. Asked me some questions about Rhis, too, but I didn’t answer. I figured they was letting me sit to wear me down before roughing me up to get something outta me. Not that I could have told them where you was no matter how persuasive they tried to be. Nothing more than ‘off that way somewhere, chasing old stories.’ Did you find what you was looking for?”

  “In a way,” Rickson said. “Listen, we need to get the Maiden back and set sail. Tonight. I don’t want to find out what the Guard have planned, and don’t get me started on the damn Guild.”

  Rhis glanced out the window. The sky was still dark, no sign of dawn on the horizon. “We probably have a couple hours before daybreak. We should move.”

  “What’s the plan, Cap?” Ewan asked.

  Rickson looked at Rhis. “I reckon we better come up with one, fast.”

  “Don’t worry,” Rhis said. “I’ll get us to your ship.”

  THIRTY-TWO: FLIGHT ACROSS THE SEA

  Crouching in the shadow of a building, Rhis touched her pockets to check her weapons, running over the plan in her mind. She’d told Rickson, Asher, and Ewan to stay back while she neutralized the guards, then they’d all make for the ship and free the crew. Rickson had argued against her taking on the half-dozen guards alone, but Rhis had assured him she could handle it. She wouldn’t even have to kill them; just get them out of the way long enough to get the Maiden out to sea.

  Adrenaline pushed away her fatigue. Reaching into an inside pocket, she drew a pouch of needles, their tips already saturated with poison. It was strong enough to render a grown-man unconscious, but not so toxic as to kill. It had taken precious time to prepare the darts, and she’d had to enlist Asher’s help in coating the tips of her blades, but preparation was at the heart of a successful job. She glanced back at Rickson and he gave her a quick nod.

  Water lapped against the pilings and the ships creaked, but the tavern-goers had found their beds in the last hours of night and the street was quiet. Rhis stood and darted toward the large wharf, still guarded by two men at the entrance. Ducking behind a barrel, she paused. One of the guards was half-asleep on his feet, leaning heavily against the side of the archway that marked the entrance to the wharf. The other stood a few feet away with his sword drawn, swinging it in a series of practiced motions. Rhis wondered if that was how he kept himself awake. She glanced around to make sure no one else was coming—she didn’t know precisely when a new set of men would come on watch—and readied the first dart.

  The swordsman was moving, which made him a more difficult target, but he was also more alert, so she aimed for him first. The needle was lost to her sight in the darkness and the guard didn’t react. Rhis waited, but he kept on with his practice, slashing and stabbing at an imaginary foe. She’d missed.

  Rhis readied another dart between her fingers. The guard turned and swung, moving another step away from the wharf entrance. Taking aim, Rhis threw; a heartbeat later, the guard stopped and swatted at his cheek. He swayed on his feet and Rhis ran forward, clasping him around the chest and lowering him carefully to the ground. Without a pause, she sent another dart flying. It stuck into the half-asleep guard’s neck. His eyes flew open and he batted at the needle, but the poison acted quickly and before Rhis could get to him, his legs were buckling. She caught him as he fell and eased him down, propping him up in a slumped seated position, as if he’d merely fallen asleep on the job.

  Behind her, Rickson and Ewan dragged the other guard out of sight. Rhis held her hand up to keep them back. There were at least four more guards she needed to see to first.

  She crep
t onto the wooden planks of the wharf, keeping low in the shadows. Numerous ships bobbed a slow rhythm to the gentle lapping of the waves, their bows pointed toward the center of the wharf. Smaller docks protruded from the main pier, providing access to the large sailing vessels along their sides. A loud snore came from the nearest ship. Many of the vessels were filled with sleeping sailors, any one of whom could come out on deck and see her, but there was no help for it. They needed to get the ship out before dawn.

  Squinting into the gloom, she watched as two of the guards walked a circuit around the wharf. They were armed with tall spears and short swords at their sides, and they wandered up and down the wide pier, their spears resting on their shoulders. The other two stood directly in front of the Maiden herself. One leaned against a piling and picked at his fingernails while the other stood still with his spear tucked into the crook of his elbow, his back to the wharf.

  Rhis waited until one of the guards on circuit wandered close. With a needle pinched between her thumb and forefinger, she sprang at him, clamping a hand over his mouth before he realized she was there. She pricked him with the needle and hauled him down, holding him tight until the poison took effect. Making sure his legs weren’t sticking out into the circle of light from the nearest lamp, she left his prone body hidden in shadow and crept closer to the Maiden.

  The other pacing guard was at the far end, so she darted across the width of the wharf and ducked behind a piling. The two in front of the Maiden looked at each other, then walked closer and spoke in low voices. Rhis kept her footfalls as quiet as possible as she dashed to the next piling, passing another large sailing ship.

  One guard went back to his piling and resumed picking at his fingernails. The other wandered to his place on the other side of the Maiden’s figurehead and stood with his legs spread wide, his spear still tucked into the crook of his arm.

  Rhis was only one ship away, and she peeked around from behind the bow. A lamp lit the front of the Maiden in its yellow glow, and the guard stood in the center of the light. She feigned a cough and the guard’s head turned toward her, but he quickly looked away.