“What are you doing here?” Ferrin demanded.
“I came here to kill you,” Garret replied.
“Why?” Ferrin asked.
“I know it was you who convinced Maebh to allow these devils onto the island. Your greed is outmatched, Ferrin, and I knew the prospect of making gold from the deal would appeal to your senses.”
Ferrin scowled. “You are wrong,” he replied. “It was not I. Queen Maebh made the decision on her own. It was she whose love of gold blinded her to the truth.”
Garret sheathed his weapon, shaking his head. “How am I supposed to believe that?” he asked. “In all of the years I’ve known you, I have never seen you pass up the opportunity to line your pockets, regardless of the consequences.”
Ferrin closed his eyes, nodding in agreement. “You are right, my friend,” he admitted. “I have been greedy. I always will be. But not at the expense of losing my freedom, or the freedom of my people.”
Garret was silent. His thoughts were clouded now, swimming in confusion at this turn of events. He had come here to kill a traitor, but now saw a man who was willing to risk his life to protect his people. Or so he said.
“Look, Garret,” Ferrin said. “We have had our differences, and our Kingdoms have always been at odds, but we are brothers. Our people are one, and we must ensure that they are safe.”
“Eamon plans to claim the throne,” Garret said. “And his exploits here are beginning to convince the people to rally behind him.”
“If he wants the throne, then I support him. He is every bit the man his grandfather was. He will make a great king.”
Garret nodded. “Yes,” he agreed. “And the Knights he has chosen thus far are the best warriors the North has to offer.”
“I have no doubt of that,” Ferrin said. “But one question remains; what do we do now?”
Garret furrowed his brow. “That is a good question,” he said. “Do you still have a personal security force?”
“Yes,” Ferrin replied. “But they are Jindala. They are loyal to The Lifegiver, not me.”
“You didn’t think this assassination out very well, did you?”
“No,” Ferrin chuckled. “I’ve been waiting for Sallah to arrive for quite a long time. Once he was here, I had to take him out quickly. I didn’t really think of the consequences. I suppose I should probably flee.”
“That would be advisable,” Garret agreed.
“I can help you with that,” a voice said from the trellis.
Garret and Ferrin looked into the shadows, seeing Adder step onto the railing and join them on the balcony. Garret sighed in frustration.
“I told you not to follow me,” he scolded. “You may have put both of us in danger.”
“I knew you were coming here,” Adder replied. “And I knew that Ferrin was not the enemy. I only followed to make sure you didn’t kill him. But I wanted you to see that he was loyal.”
“Ferrin,” Garret said. “This is Adder, leader of the Thieves’ Guild.”
“We are familiar,” Ferrin replied. “He is my son.”
Garret gasped. He wasn’t aware that Ferrin even had a son, much less one like Adder. “That’s why you know me,” he said to Adder. The thief smiled, nodding.
“My name is Fordran,” he said. “And I am at your service, sir.”
“Can you get your father out of here?” Garret asked.
Fordran nodded. “Not a problem,” he said, and then whistled. Within seconds, three more thieves melted out of the shadows and surrounded the men on the balcony. Garret was once again surprised. These thieves had skill.
“I will take my father to Gaellos,” Adder said. “He will be safe there among our brothers. I suggest you disappear as well.”
Garret looked to Ferrin. “Good luck, my friend,” he said. “I will return to Gaellos when I am finished.”
“Do it swiftly,” Ferrin replied, knowing exactly what Garret’s mission was. “She may be greedy and shallow, but she is still the Queen. She deserves mercy.”
Garret nodded. “I know,” he said. “It will not be an easy task, though.”
“Just remember,” Ferrin said. “She is not the one you love.”
Garret fell silent, knowing Ferrin was right. He would do his duty, but he would do it quickly to minimize her suffering, all personal feelings aside.
“Come, father,” Adder said. “Our chariot awaits.”
Ferrin rose to join his son and his companions. The thieves strapped him into a leather harness, directing him to the railing. Adder’s comrades leapt over the edge, landing softly and scouting the area for guards. When they signaled that the way was clear, Adder and the remaining thief lowered Ferrin to the ground.
“We will see you in Gaellos, Scorpion,” Adder said, throwing one leg over the railing.
“Good luck,” Garret said as the thief disappeared into the darkness.
Garret shook his head with distress. With this new turn of events, his mission became more urgent. Queen Maebh herself had made the decision to allow the Jindala into her kingdom. It was her choice alone. Even with her typical greed and love of attention, it didn’t seem like a choice that she would make. Something had influenced her; something other than the Sultan that Siobhan spoke of. Maebh was, perhaps, under the influence of something greater; The Lifegiver himself, or some other force that had not been considered. Either way, something wasn’t right, and Garret was determined to discover the answer.
Returning to the trellis, the assassin exited the balcony and made his way to the darkness below. Like a shadow, he disappeared into the night.
The Knights continued their covert excursion into the heart of Bray. The water had grown deeper, and they began to feel the effects of trudging through the cold, brackish swamp. Azim seemed to be the most affected, having lived his entire life in the hot desert climate of Khem. Cold, damp weather was new to him, and he longed for the warmth of the sun. Despite his misery, he stayed at Daryth’s side, leading Eamon and his company through the labyrinth of wooden walkways.
Near the center of town, where many of the paths met at a large deck, Daryth stopped, motioning for the Knights to hold. He turned to Eamon with concern.
“Four guards on the platform,” he warned. “One at each corner.”
Eamon strained to see in the darkness, having only the randomly placed lanterns to light his view. He could see the four guards, each facing away from the center of the platform, standing still and seemingly alert. Though they were motionless, Eamon could see that their heads moved from side to side, scanning the town around them.
“Pass them up for now,” Eamon decided. “We’ll continue taking out the other guards, and save these for last. If we attack them now, their absence may alert others in the area.”
“I would prefer an outright fight to this all of this sneaking around,” Wrothgaar said. “My feet are wet and my legs are cramping from squatting.”
“Shall I fetch you a tub of hot water?” Angen joked. “Or maybe a nice warm blanket?”
Wrothgaar punched Angen in the shoulder, smiling.
“Quiet,” Eamon said. “We need to find out how many troops are here, and why the Jindala occupied this town in the first place. Plus, I want to know what happened to the pirates that usually dock here.”
“Likely the Jindala hired them,” Brynn said, “or killed them.”
“The Jindala are not skilled at naval warfare,” Azim replied. “They wouldn’t last long against pirates. Nor would they want to associate with them.”
“I don’t think the pirates would ally themselves with them, either,” Angen added. “I’ve met a few of them before. They don’t take kindly to anyone disturbing their smuggling routes. If the Jindala have chased them away with their presence, they’ll likely be back.”
“Agreed,” Eamon said. “Daryth, Azim, lead on.”
Leaving the four guards behind, the company pushed forward, hiding in the shadows beneath the network of walkways. Daryth and Azim were s
lightly farther ahead, scouting in front of the group while Brynn maintained a watchful eye on the rooftops. Wrothgaar and Angen lagged behind, guarding the rear, and Eamon remained in the middle, ready to issue any orders to his Knights.
Once again, the Prince saw Daryth stop ahead, and Azim moving closer to confer with him. Eamon crept up next to them, with Brynn behind him. The two men had caught hold of an object floating in the swamp, and the rest of the company gathered to see what they had found.
“It’s a body,” Daryth said. “A Jindala guard.”
Azim turned the floating body over, revealing that the man’s throat had been torn out. “An assassin?” he suggested.
“No idea,” Eamon replied. “Either way, someone else is here doing the same thing we are.”
“He hasn’t been dead for very long,” Daryth pointed out. “He’s still slightly warm and the wound looks fresh. Whoever killed him may still be nearby.”
“Leaving his body floating around like this was rather careless,” Wrothgaar added. “Not the work of a professional, obviously.”
“The wound says that, too,” Daryth said. “It’s jagged, as if done with a dull knife. Maybe even a kitchen knife.”
“I wouldn’t want to eat at that tavern,” Angen said, drawing looks from the rest of the knights.
“Hide the body near the rocks over there,” Eamon said, pointing toward the north side of the lagoon. “We’ll continue on. Perhaps we’ll run into our mystery assassin.”
Daryth and Azim quietly floated the body off to the side of the lagoon, wedging it between the rocks and pushing it under the surface of the water for good measure.
Brynn had spotted a larger building ahead, supported by at least a dozen piers. The building was lit from the inside and two guards stood on either side of the door.
“Daryth, Brynn,” Eamon began. “Take out the guards with your bows. We’ll climb the piers and see what’s inside.”
The two knights nodded, drawing their bows and taking position underneath the walkways in front of the building. The rest of the group moved to the rear, beginning their climb onto the deck. Brynn and Daryth waited until the knights had taken position at the corner, underneath a window that faced to the east. When they were ready, Eamon nodded.
Two arrows streaked to their targets, striking the guards in the chest. They each groaned, grasping the arrows that pierced their hearts, and slumped to the walkway, making only a slight thump. Eamon and Wrothgaar crept around the corner, dragging the bodies to either side of the building, tossing them over the edge to the rocks.
Azim and Angen each moved to the windows on the east and west sides, peering into the glass. Inside, a large table was set up, with three chairs lining each of the longer sides, and covered with candles. Six Jindala were seated at the table, and one man, dressed in white robes, stood at the head. Azim listened to their conversation.
“It is clear that we cannot simply enforce our laws with such a small presence in each town,” the white robed man said. “Gaellos has been liberated, and the pirates that sail the coast are protecting the northern port cities. When our troops arrive here tomorrow by ship, we will send our foot soldiers to support the army that marches on Gaellos. The city must be retaken.”
“My scouts tell me that Prince Eamon’s armies are camped outside the city,” another man said. “The Northmen are with them, along with what’s left of Farouk’s company.”
“Where are the sorceress and her company?” the leader asked. “Have they tracked down Khalid?”
“There has been no contact. I fear they have been intercepted.”
The leader leaned in closer, gritting his teeth and hissing at the man. “Find them!” he growled. “Use the stone to communicate with the sorceress.”
“I have tried,” the man protested. “She will not answer.”
The leader quickly drew a dagger from his belt, leaning in and jabbing it into the man’s throat. The man gasped wide-eyed and clenched his fists around the leader’s wrists, choking and spurting blood. The other men sat silent, looking away and glaring at each other in fear as the man slumped from the blood soaked table.
Azim shook his head, disgusted at the display of cruelty the leader expressed. Even when his own men failed at their mission, Azim had always encouraged them to try harder, and never so much as chastised them verbally. Failure was a part of life, he reasoned, and all men fail at times. Punishment only encourages mutiny. Clearly, this man was a monster.
“You others,” the leader said. “Fail me as he has, and you will suffer the same fate. Take your troops and continue the search for Khalid. He must be found and executed as a traitor.”
The others nodded, standing to pay tribute to the leader as they prepared to leave. Azim turned to Eamon, who crouched next to him, clearly as shocked and confused as Azim himself was.
“He has commanded the men to search for Khalid,” Azim said. “We must find him first. An army also approaches Gaellos, and they are planning to support them with soldiers from their fleet. Their ships will arrive here in Bray soon.”
“We’ll put an end to their plans,” Eamon said.
Azim signaled to Wrothgaar, who crouched at the opposite corner. The two approached the door, Angen and Eamon following behind. Eamon signaled for Wrothgaar to take position in front of the door and prepare to bash it open with his axe. He then turned to Daryth and Brynn, gesturing for them to keep their eyes on the rooftops.
Wrothgaar stood ready, breathing deeply in preparation. He would bash down the door, head straight for the table and leap over it to the other side, chopping down any man who stood in his way.
The Prince counted down with his fingers, clenching his fist at zero. He watched the Northman charge the door and leaped up to follow. Wrothgaar crashed through with his axe, splintering the door to pieces, and rushing in.
The men inside jumped in surprise, their eyes wide in terror as the giant Northman pounced onto the table. Eamon followed, crossing the room straight to the leader. Angen and Azim bounded in after, choosing the first targets they saw.
Angen impaled his opponent immediately, withdrawing his giant claymore and cleaving the man’s head clean from his shoulders. Azim crossed his swords swiftly, slicing his target open with deadly ferocity. Wrothgaar took two targets, splitting one’s head in two and bashing the other with a back hand blow of his axe.
Eamon backed the leader into the corner, slashing the Serpent’s Tongue quickly in a double strike. The leader had drawn his scimitar, but was unprepared for the assault. His sword was knocked from his hand, and Eamon finished him off with another quick slash to the gut.
The remaining Jindala made a mad rush to the door, but Azim dropped to one knee, slashing the man’s shins. The enemy stumbled, pitching face first into the floor. Azim finished him off with a slash to the back of the neck.
“Search the room,” Eamon commanded. “Find anything that would indicate when the fleet will arrive.”
The Knights began searching among the blood-spattered contents, Eamon going to the door to signal the two archers that they were successful.
Brynn and Daryth saw the signal, relieved that their brothers had finished the job without too much of a disturbance. However, it was apparent that the scuffle had attracted the attention of the four men on the nearby platform. The walkways began to shake and rattle as the men made their way toward the building.
Daryth was the first to fire when the guards came into view. His arrow streaked past the lead man, striking the guard behind him and dropping him into the muck. Brynn gritted his teeth at the splash, but fired as well, hitting the lead guard. Daryth fired again, taking down the next man in line. The fourth man did not make an appearance.
“I don’t see the last one,” Brynn whispered.
Daryth peered into the darkness. “I don’t either,” he said. “Where the Hell did he go?”
Brynn waded slowly in the direction of the platform, Daryth following close. They both scanned the walk
ways, looking for any sign of the missing guard. He was nowhere in sight. Daryth looked at Brynn, shrugging.
“I’d think he would have sounded the alarm,” Brynn said, “or at least called for help.”
Daryth was about to respond, but suddenly his eyes widened and he pointed into the shadows. Brynn turned quickly, seeing the outline of something horned and reptilian stalking the walkway. As the men watched, the mysterious shadow leaped into the air, spreading its wings, and carrying the missing guard off into the sky.
“Was that a dragon?” Brynn asked, amazed.
“I think it was,” Daryth replied. “But I don’t know of any dragons other than Erenoth.”
“We should tell Eamon.”
Brynn agreed, and the two made their way back toward the building, trudging quickly through the swamp.
Inside, Angen found a large scroll case, decorated in odd symbols, and sealed with golden caps. He handed it to Eamon, who eyed it curiously. The rest of the knights gathered around to watch.
“It could be a map,” Azim suggested. “The end caps come off easily, just push them in and turn them.”
Eamon followed Azim’s direction, smiling as the caps came off in his hands. He turned the scroll case up vertically and let its contents fall into his palm. It was a large parchment, tied closed with a red velvet cord that was interlaced with golden threads. The Prince untied the cord and spread the scroll out onto the table, being careful to avoid the blood that covered it.
It was a map of Eirenoch, with key strategic points highlighted with stars, including every major city and port. Along the sides of the map were writings, connected to the highlighted cities by arrows. They were obviously annotations.
“Translate these, Azim,” Eamon said.
Azim leaned into the map, reading silently to himself. He then translated for the others.
“This town has been marked as a meeting place for their fleets,” he began. “They have also marked the typical routes of the pirates, warning the Jindala ships to stay clear. Apparently they fear the pirates.”
“They should,” Angen growled.
The Ascent (Book 2) Page 6