“There was a reason Caleb told us not to follow. Shade might ignore it, but I won’t. We need to stay here and away from whatever he is going to do. It will be our only hope of staying clear of the fighting so that we can locate the prisoners.” Dray’s voice was a soft whisper by her ear, yet somehow he managed to emphasize his words to the point of command.
Wordlessly she nodded but moved a few inches closer to the alley mouth to watch Grim’s dark clad form as he wove his way through the streets. Nothing she had seen from him in the past week was what she remembered of her friend. It was as if his grief had transformed him into something far more violent and cold than he had ever been before. There were stories about him in Glis of course, but she had always believed the tales of the Bloody Huntsman were exaggerated; now she wasn’t so sure. It was possible he had always harbored a darker side and she had simply never looked closely enough to see it. He was her friend, or had been at one time. She wasn’t sure anymore, but it was a concern she didn’t have time to face. Perhaps if they both survived the day she could speak with him about it, if Grim would speak with her about anything. He had been tightlipped for most of the trip.
“I’m bloody well sick of this damn thing.” A man’s voice from the far end of the alley froze her thoughts and she turned back just in time to watch two figures enter their alley.
Wordlessly she pressed herself flat against the alley wall in a mirror of Dray’s own movement. The man that had spoken was fully in the alley now and to her dismay he wore the full armor of a high ranking Rivasan guard. A second man followed him dressed in dark clothes and a hooded cloak. She could barely make out the lower part of his jaw, but what she could see was unshaven and by the set of his lips he was highly amused.
“I feel filthy just wearing it!” The guard snapped as he unbuckled the chin strap of his full helmet and wrenched it from his head. His hair was tousled and a deep red color that was never found in Rivasans. His bronzed skin was beaded with sweat and his expression was borderline furious. With a curse he tossed the helmet to the side of the alley and shook his head with irritation. It wasn’t until he turned to gaze down the alley in the direction Shade and Grim had gone that she recognized him. Her breath caught in her throat as his bright green eyes traced over the street beyond her. Havoc Firym. She had no idea what he was doing here, and she didn’t know him aside from glimpsing him near Jala, but his presence here could only be considered a blessing. Everyone knew how much the Firym despised the Rivasans.
“Does it feel strange to you to be doing something like this without Victory here chiding us every step of the way about how stupid we are?” The second man’s voice was low and laced with amusement, but it wasn’t a voice she recognized. He raised a gloved hand as he spoke and pushed the hood back revealing lanky black hair that looked as though it hadn’t been brushed in weeks. His eyes were deep set and a long silvered scar traced down the left side of his face. Even without the scar she wouldn’t have considered him handsome. There was too much about him that screamed guttertrash. Even his clothes spoke of someone that would slit your throat for a bent copper.
“Victory made his choice.” Havoc said irritably as he unfastened the uppermost clasp of his leather brigandine. “I hate this armor. I hate this creeping about.” He snarled as the sound of a woman’s scream pierced the air from the direction Grim had gone.
The man in black let out a long deep sigh as if Havoc’s words were a complaint that was well worn through and moved gracefully past the Firym as he continued to strip out of the obviously stolen armor. “By the sounds of it the puppy has already started and we still haven’t located Zoelyn. Do you think we should continue on to the children without her? There is a chance we will encounter her along the way.”
“Puppy didn’t plan on us helping at all in this so I sincerely doubt he mentioned us to Zoey. As far as he was concerned all we were doing was pretending to be smugglers bringing in Firym silks to lure Kalleria out of the fortress.” Havoc sighed in disgust and threw the heavy leather armor to the street by the helmet. He wore silk padding under the Rivasan leathers and by the looks of it he planned to be wearing nothing but the padding in a few more minutes.
“Are they calling Caleb puppy as a nickname?” Dray’s words drifted through her mind. He hadn’t risked speaking the words aloud, not with the dangerous looking man standing so close to them.
Zoelyn shrugged in response never taking her eyes off the dark clad man. He had paused near the alley mouth and was so close she could have extended a finger and brushed his arm. Her eyes studied him closely from the tips of his soft leather boots to the edge of the scar on his face. It looked like an old knife wound and it wasn’t until she had traced it down to the very bottom that she realized it wasn’t a scar at all. The very bottom corner of the scar was beginning to peal from his sweat. It was make-up such as the stage actors use, and very cleverly done. Her eyes moved over him again taking in the faint smudge around his scraggly jaw line and then settling at last on his blue eyes. Her own eyes widened as the details of his costume faded and she studied his build and the bone structure of his face.
“Lord Dark, your scar is pealing and your beard appears to be losing its color from your sweat.” Zoelyn whispered.
Zachary Dark stiffened at the sound of her voice, but Havoc’s reaction was almost comical. The Firym cursed and stumbled on the leather pants still trailing from one leg. Barefoot Havoc wheeled to face the direction of her voice half-dressed with a dagger in one hand.
With a faint smile Zachary reached up and pulled the fake scar from his face and tucked it neatly into his pocket as Zoelyn released Dray’s hand allowing the Blight’s camouflage to fade from her.
“I didn’t recognize you at all. It’s a very good disguise Lord Dark.” Zoelyn murmured her gaze trailing back to Havoc. Her eyes roved over his silk padding and his discarded armor. It was tempting to ask where he had pulled the dagger from in such a hurry, but she decided it was something she likely didn’t want to know.
“Havoc has some odd friends. One of which specializes in costumes for theatre. I myself thought this ensemble was a bit over the top, but it seems to have served its purpose. The Guards at the gate believed I was a genuine smuggler.” He fell silent at the sound of hoof beats and shouting from down the road and glanced toward Havoc. “Perhaps you should dress quickly. I believe we need to be on our way very soon if we are going to rescue the children and free the slaves.”
“Free the slaves?” Zoelyn repeated in a hopeful voice. Her gaze flicked between the two men and it was Havoc that nodded in response though his attention was entirely focused on freeing his leg from the tangled leather trousers.
“Puppy’s request was that I manage to bring in something pretty to lure Kellaria out of her keep. With the war going every city in every country has faced shortages and I doubt Rivasa has seen a decent bolt of material in months let alone a piss drenched hole like Prendington. He said he was going to bring the city to ruin. I brought Zach into this because I am quite obviously Firym and very well known, but no one would ever expect the honorable Plate mail clad Zachary Dark to pose as a smuggler. After we discussed it a bit we both decided Prendington can burn, but the slaves can’t. So here we are and we are short on time.” Havoc explained in a rushed voice as he shook himself free of the armor at last and kicked it to land beside the rest of the Rivasan disguise.
“Are you really calling Grim, Puppy?” Zoelyn muttered in a bewildered voice. She couldn’t imagine anyone in Glis or Arovan speaking of Grim in such a condescending way.
“Been his nickname since he first stepped foot into the Academy and growled at me in his pathetic little adolescent way.” Havoc replied with a snort of amusement.
“Neither here nor there and we are short on time.” Zachary reminded him and Havoc nodded curtly.
The Firym’s gaze moved to the street beyond and then back to Zachary. “Is it too much for him? Do you think he can manage to live if we both go?”
Havoc nodded once more and waved a hand toward himself in a careless gesture. Bright flame leaped from his fingers completely obscuring his body in fire for several breaths.
Blinking rapidly Zoelyn tried to clear her eyes of the temporary blindness. She hadn’t expected Havoc to douse himself in fire and she had been looking directly at him when he did. As the spots faded from her vision he gradually came back into focus. He was armored once more in the fine Black and red armor of a Flamerider officer. Two blades rested easily against his hips and his expression no longer held even a trace of annoyance.
“Alright. Let’s kick these pigs and see how they squeal.” Havoc said with a grin.
“What?” Zoelyn mumbled looking to Zachary for a translation.
“What he means to say is we will not be using stealth and he doesn’t want the Puppy to take all of the fun of killing the Rivasans. I concur. I’ve had enough stealth and deceit to last me the rest of the year. I’d much rather face them and have them know who is sending them to their grave.” Zachary smiled and tossed the hooded cloak to the ground. He wasn’t wearing armor underneath it, but a very large sword was strapped to his back, and that seemed more than enough to satisfy him as he turned back the way they had come. “Let’s leave that mess for Puppy to sort out and find a quicker route that will waste less time.” Zachary suggested with a casual wave in the direction that Shade and Grim were in.
“Agreed. A lot to do and not much time to do it if we are going to make it back here in time to kick the teeth out of some of those asses.” Havoc smiled and winked at Zoelyn. “By the way, your Blight friend can show himself if he likes. We both know about him anyway.” He added with a sly grin and winked at her.
“Now is an excellent time to prove yourself to be your father’s son young man. Micah Arovan never slunk through the shadows. He walked as a warrior and confronted everything with honor.” Zachary added with a smile.
“Damn I like you so much better when you aren’t drenched in Oblivion, Zach. You are almost human again. You never smile when you are holding Oblivion inside you.” Havoc murmured with a shake of his head and a smile that mirrored Zach’s.
To her amazement Dray dropped his camouflage and nodded solemnly to Zachary. The Blight smiled faintly then bowed his head to Havoc in respect. “I don’t skulk because I’m a coward. I skulk out of respect. I know my presence offends many people and it is often the most diplomatic to simply avoid being seen.” Dray’s voice was calm and for a moment a memory of his father rang in her mind. She hadn’t seen Micah Arovan often, but she remembered his voice and his careful wording well. Every day it became more apparent that Micah’s memory would live on in his son, even if they had never met.
Chapter 14
Rivana
The thrum of bows rang through the air as Shade moved as quickly as he dared toward Derrick. He could hear the clash of swords behind him and the cries of wounded men, but he didn’t dare look back to check on Caleb. He knew if he did the desire to help his friend would overwhelm the knowledge that Derrick Rivasa had to die.
His gaze settled on the blue grey horse Derrick rode and he watched the animal dancing in place. Its ears were pinned and its teeth were bared in fury. He’s been trained for war. Shade realized and his steps slowed as he watched the animal strike at the cobbled street with a steel-shod hoof. Sparks flew from the stones and Shade’s approach slowed further. Derrick wouldn’t see him he knew that much, but he wasn’t sure the horse wouldn’t sense him. He wasn’t as stealthy as a true Blight and he knew it. Just the faintest noise could send the edgy animal into a fit that would leave him broken on the stones with hoof prints decorating his face.
A shrill whistle sounded from behind him and Derrick’s horse reared in response nearly unseating the man. With a furious snarl the Rivasan cuffed the horse between the ears and spurred it hard. The animal lunged forward to land on all four feet once more and Shade had to dart back to avoid being crushed beneath it. With a toss of its head the gray backed and stomped its feet seeming even more agitated than it had been before the whistle.
A memory surfaced of Valor training horses in Merro. It hadn’t truly been something of interest to Shade, but Jala had been leaning on the rail watching and so he had stayed to speak with her and ended up learning a thing or two about Arovan horsemanship. Such as the fact that they trained their War Horses with a mixture of whistles and leg pressure. His gaze traced over the horse once more and then to the other Rivasan mounts and a smile began to form on his lips. Of course, this animal was a prize of war. Excitement rose in him with the realization. Derrick had likely ridden it here to irritate Caleb. In turn Caleb had given Shade the answer to his problem with one shrill whistle. It was obvious by Derrick’s reaction to the horse’s rearing that he didn’t realize how it was trained and that he was essentially sitting on an enemy.
With a wide smile Shade stepped further away from the agitated horse and searched his mind frantically for the memory of Valor once more. There was a set whistle that would send the horse leaping forward and if he could just remember it he was certain Derrick would find himself kissing the cobbles. He wouldn’t be able to do anything about the leg pressure cue of course, but he hoped the animal was annoyed enough with Derrick’s heavy handed treatment that even half of the signal would be enough.
A muffled curse broke through the fighting behind him and Shade felt his pulse quicken at the sound. That was Caleb’s voice. He was certain of it. It was a sheer act of will to keep his mind focused on the memory and not turn to aid his friend, but Shade gritted his teeth and let loose three sharp whistles in a quick burst. He wasn’t certain it was the correct signal, but he was praying to Fortune it was.
The Gray’s ears pinned further at the sound and a squall tore from its throat as it launched itself into the air. Both hind legs snapped out behind it in a deadly attack that would have caved the skulls of anyone foolish enough to stand behind an Arovan Charger. As it was a sandstone wall was the only victim of the animal’s savage kick and the jarring impact propelled the horse forward while managing to dislodge Derrick from the saddle. The Rivasan scrambled to regain his seat and managed to tangle himself in the reins. The horse squalled again only this time there was agony in its call as the bit tore painfully into its mouth. Derrick was dragged several feet and barely managed to loosen his hand from the reins in time to scurry back from the furious animal. For a breath Shade thought the horse would do his job for him and then Derrick was clear of the animal and bumping into Shade.
“Fortune be praised.” Shade whispered as Derrick spun to face him. On a whim he let his camouflage drop as he drove his dagger hard up into the Rivasan’s kidney. “That was for Micah. You killed one of the few men I respected.” He hissed as Derrick’s eyes bulged in their sockets. He had caught the Rivasan completely off guard and with that one strike the fight was over. The man was well versed in magic, but not in pain. Shade knew there was no way Derrick would find focus with a dagger wound in such a vital place. Derrick pulled back on unsteady legs and tried to back away from him, but Shade stepped closer with relentless determination. He held Derrick’s panicked gaze as he drove the dagger hard into the man’s chest. The blade slid neatly between two ribs and Derrick expression froze in agony as the tip of the blade found the man’s heart. “And that was for his son.” Shade whispered as the Rivasan slumped to the ground.
It took several moments before the sound of the fighting behind him registered again in his mind. From the moment Derrick had bumped into him until he lay dead at Shade’s feet the rest of the world had faded away. There had been nothing but him and his victim and then everything rushed back in with a vengeance. A scream sounded behind him and he whirled to face the fighting. The ground was littered with several corpses, but there were still far too m
any enemies on their feet.
Shade’s eyes found Caleb within moments and his chest tightened at the way the Arovan was staggering. Blood soaked his armor and he could see at least two arrows protruding from Caleb’s side. The priest was holding his own against two swordsman, but a third was closing fast and archers were still firing whenever they had a clear shot. Grace Morcaillo circled the fight like a hunting cat, and by the way Caleb was trying to keep her in his sight Shade knew his mother had already traded blows with his friend.
“To stealth or not to stealth.” Shade murmured as he eyed the archers. “Buggering hell, stealth.” He muttered sourly. There was no other option at this point of the battle. He needed to eliminate the archers quickly and quietly. Grudgingly he summoned the camouflage once more and crept toward the far side of the battle. Perhaps one day there would be a battle he could fight honorably, but today was quite obviously not that day.
The first archer died soundlessly and Shade gave him silent thanks for it. The man’s comrades were fixated on Caleb and neither of them seemed to notice their companion die quietly beside them. The second was standing too close to his fellow for Shade to kill him without being noticed.
With a frown he pulled another dagger from his belt and studied the men carefully. There was a wall behind them with just enough room for them to draw their bows. It would be a tight squeeze to get behind them both and he would have to time it perfectly. If either of them stepped back or brushed against him all stealth was lost. The only other option for killing them both without a fight was to stand directly before them, and he wasn’t keen on the idea of placing himself directly in the path of their arrows.
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