by S. C. Stokes
Driven by Gerwold, several of the families had united in an effort to put a new king on the throne. The endeavor had come very close, only to be thwarted by the upstart Tristan Listar. Hitomi had fled for her life when the sorcerer, Syrion had appeared in Belnair. He had freed Tristan and assaulted the Black Iron Keep. Gerwold's son, Falen, whom Hitomi was engaged to wed, had died in the assault—at Hitomi’s own hand.
Knowing that Falen would not hide nor retreat from the Listar brother’s assault, Hitomi had been forced to act. The brothers Tristan and Syrion were driven by revenge for their father's death, and they would not cease their pursuit until their vengeance was satisfied against Falen. Hitomi had shoved Falen out of a window, the fall killing him and affording Hitomi the distraction she had needed to escape.
Fortunately Syrion had left King’s Court and had not been seen in the capital for months. It was the sorcerer's disappearance that had spurred her into action. Since Gerwold’s defeat Hitomi had lain low, plotting patiently to take the throne she had always wished for. Her own ambitions were not the sole motivation: her father still sat in chains in the dungeon beneath King’s Court and her family's lands languished under the king's control. It was an insult that needed to be avenged.
The young king was impetuous and easy to predict; even now he would be working his way into the Night Stalkers' den and the death trap Hitomi had carefully prepared. No doubt he considered himself clever to have found their lair when all before him had failed. Hitomi wished she could be there to see the realization in his eyes when he learned the true extent of his failure.
She couldn’t help but be pleased with Tristan’s naive attempt to rescue his son—he'd stripped much of the garrison and marched for Mizumura with little thought of the consequences. True, the Palace was still on alert after the earlier attacks, but that meant little with a depleted garrison. The Palace was vast, and protecting it against Hitomi's assault would have proved difficult even if they had known it was coming.
Now as evening drew near and the sun descended over the western horizon, the Palace guard would soon change. Hitomi would strike just before the changing of the guards, when those on duty would be at their most weary, having endured the heat and fatigue of the day.
Then the Night Stalkers she had brought with her would gain precious moments to make their presence truly felt. Hitomi was dressed from head to foot in the robes of the Night Stalkers, rendering her indistinguishable from her acolytes. Ever since she had gone to ground she had worked steadily to increase the already-considerable ranks of the brotherhood of assassins. Now Hitomi focused that brotherhood on a single target: King’s Court.
For days the Night Stalkers had been slowly infiltrating the capital, making their way into the city and lying low, waiting for this very moment. If they were seen approaching the Palace there was no sign of it. The citizens of King’s Court knew well the tales of the Night Stalkers and their bloody trade. But the city seemed at peace.
Hitomi arrived at the gates to find the guards dead at their post. Three of them hadn't even had the chance to draw their weapons. Hitomi smiled at their misfortune—her agent had done his work well. The Night Stalkers would be within the palace before the King’s Guard even knew they were under attack.
With four hundred assassins at her back, Hitomi had little doubt that she could accomplish her purpose. All she needed to do was kill the queen and any remaining members of the aristocracy within the Palace. Then she would free her father Velas and the Baron of Fordham who still languished in the dungeon. With the king dead in Mizumura and the queen’s imminent death in the Palace, there would be none left to contest her claim.
Possession meant everything in Valaar. Hitomi was certain the other great houses would voice their outrage at her attack, but they would not move openly against her once the crown was in her possession. With her forces she could safely hold the Palace until reinforcements arrived from Mizumura or Fordham, encouraged by the return of the rightful rulers of their families. Hitomi’s smile widened as the realization of her dreams drew nearer.
In this life, some long for love or peace or wealth. For as long as she could recall, Hitomi's singular goal had been the golden throne of the Valaar. Before the day was through, it would be hers.
Once they were within the Palace, the Night Stalkers would divide their forces to accomplish a number of objectives simultaneously. One party had been tasked with the mission of freeing Velas from the dungeon. Others would sweep the walls to overpower any patrols of King’s Guard they could find. The core of the Night Stalkers' thrust, however, would be the east wing of the Palace where the royal residence was located. The Queen and her pending demise were all-important in Hitomi's plan. For the people to fall in line behind her rule, it was essential that all traces of the previous regime perish.
One-for-one, the Night Stalkers were easily the match of any paid soldier, and if they moved swiftly they would continue to have the upper hand. Hitomi needed only to exercise caution to ensure she did not engage in a protracted battle. In such a conflict the well-trained and well-drilled members of the King’s Guard would gain the upper hand. For a moment Hitomi's mind wandered to Miyamoro and his men, who had remained behind at the Riverhold. When he had accepted the assignment Miyamoro had believed he would be victorious, but Hitomi knew better. With the forces arrayed against them she had no doubt in her mind that every Night Stalker that had remained would soon be dead.
Hitomi regretted the necessity of their sacrifice but took solace in the certainty that Tristan would perish there as well, Miyamoro would see to that. With his son and heir in danger, she had no doubt his reckless nature would lead to a swift and violent death beneath the Riverhold.
The Night Stalkers crossed the open ground between the curtain wall and the Palace and found the post unguarded—those guards too had met a grisly end. Both soldiers lay dead at their post. Hitomi’s spirits soared. Her agent had proved infallible, and only one task remained for him, one of considerable import. His success or failure would greatly affect the battle that lay ahead.
Upon entering the Palace, the tide of assassins came face-to-face with a patrol of roaming King’s Guard. Hitomi could clearly see the expression on the captain's face change from surprise to disbelief to horror at the veritable horde of assassins before him.
Hitomi unsheathed her blades and advanced. No orders were needed—the Night Stalkers knew well their purpose. As one they surged towards the patrol.
“Raise the alarm!” the captain shouted. “Night Stalkers in the Palace!”
The King’s Guard fanned out to block the corridor as best they could, following protocol one of their number broke ranks to raise the alarm and spread word of the incursion.
The hall was filled with the sound of steel being drawn. The King’s Guard raised their shields and set themselves firmly in the way of the advancing assassins. With the full width of the corridor blocked, the assassins were forced to fight toe-to-toe with the King’s Guard and could not use their speed and agility to full effect. They reverted to a simpler tactic and hurled themselves at the King’s Guard and their waiting blades.
Several fell but soon the sheer press of the assassins’ numbers began to drag the noble King’s Guard down. Assassins fell but their space was soon taken by others eager to win favor in the eyes of Hitomi—they brazenly threw themselves at the King’s Guard. The fight was bloody and brutal but ended in mere moments. With grim efficiency Hitomi buried her karma in the last soldier's chest, his eyes going wide as his strength gave out. Pushing the man to the ground, Hitomi continued forward.
“You have your orders,” she instructed. “See that they are obeyed. Kill all who stand in your way. As soon as my father is free, bring him to me, along with the Baron of Fordham—I would speak with them at once. You will find me in the throne room.”
It is my right, Hitomi thought as she sheathed her weapon and looked about at what was to become her domain.
*****
Alarm bells rang throughout the Citadel. Everywhere runners spread word that the Palace was under attack once more. For days the Palace had been on high alert, and Dariyen had doubled the standing watch and the number of patrols throughout the grounds. The First Captain of King’s Court was at a loss to explain just how the assassins had made their way so deep inside the Palace. Dariyen had prepared diligently, and men were stationed throughout the Palace. No matter where the assassins surfaced he would soon know their movements.
Dariyen knew in his heart they had come for the Queen. He could feel it—as soon as the alarm was raised he began making his way back toward the royal residences. Even now a hundred King’s Guard would be stationed outside Linea’s chamber. No matter what else happens, the Queen must be preserved, Dariyen thought. The peace he had fought so long to establish rested firmly in the rule of the Listar family. Nothing could be allowed to frustrate that now.
As he hurried through the Palace he heard a voice behind him call, “First Captain! First Captain! I must speak with you!. There are Night Stalkers in the Palace!”
Dariyen turned to see Captain Jalen running toward him at full speed.
“I'm aware, Jalen—I've heard the alarm. We stand ready to receive them. Have you seen them yourself? How many are there? Where are they?”
“There are well over a hundred,” Jalen answered, “and they seem to be heading for the eastern wing, though there are reports of small groups of them scattered throughout the Palace. I have not yet seen them myself.”
“We can't put any stock in rumors, Jalen—we can only act on what we've seen with our own eyes. We must protect the Queen—nothing else matters. I am on my way to the residences now. Return to your men—they are stationed in the throne room, are they not?”
“Indeed they are—do you wish me to hold my position there? There may still be time for us to reach the residences.”
“Over a hundred assassins, you said?” Concern was growing in Dariyen’s voice.
“Well over, Sir—it is difficult to know for sure. But the report states they filled the hall and were still coming—easily a hundred, perhaps more.”
“Then fetch your men and bring them to the east wing at once. We must ensure the Queen comes to no harm.”
“Very well, sir.” Jalen bowed to the First Captain and turned to depart.
As Dariyen took a step he heard the familiar sound of a sword clearing its scabbard and felt a pang of fear. Dariyen spun toward the sound, only to see Jalen's blade slicing through the air toward him. The young warrior had him--his own blade was still in its scabbard at his side. In his final moments Dariyen noted the young warrior's blade was already slick with blood and realized the man's duplicity. Rage filled his heart at the betrayal, rage that would go unspent as Jalen's blade removed the First Captain’s head from his body.
The attack caused Jalen greater pain than he had expected. The First Captain had always treated him well, personally seeing to the recruit’s training ever since he'd received his commission to serve in the King’s Guard. Few men in King’s Court were held in as high esteem as Dariyen Gardeau. The man was a hero of the people, but more importantly a hero to the men who served under him.
Unfortunately, his death was a necessity. The order had come directly from the mistress herself, and Hitomi's instructions were clear. Jalen was to pave the way for the Night Stalkers' assault on the Palace, then find and kill the First Captain, no matter the cost. Without his leadership the defense of the Palace would dissolve into a leaderless mess. The assassins would roam the halls, killing all who stood in their way.
With the assault on the Palace underway Jalen no longer needed to continue his charade as a member of the King’s Guard—he could now rejoin his brethren. The reward for the faithful carrying out of those orders would likely see him rise further in station. The Mistress would be thrilled that he had carried out his duties with such proficiency. Jalen looked at the body at his feet and, knowing Hitomi would want proof of his actions, grabbed the severed head of the First Captain by the hair and set out to find his brethren.
*****
Tristan emerged from the portal with his son held close to his side and his right hand ready to draw a weapon, finding himself in the wide, richly furnished vaulted halls leading to the residence. At times Tristan looked on the lavish furnishings and thought back to the comparatively humble Listarii Manor that he had been raised in. The manor was well furnished compared to the home of an average Valaaran citizen, but was nothing like the Palace. At times Tristan was embarrassed by the sheer display of wealth in the Palace. He'd considered re-furnishing the wing in more simple fittings but had never quite found the time.
Marcus and Elaina emerged from the portal next, Kalifae close behind. In their wake, dozens of King’s Guard streamed into the hall. At the far end of the hall Tristan could see his own chambers and the nursery, and before them stood a full complement of the King’s Guard. A hundred fighting men stood ready to lay down their lives for the Queen. Tristan's heart swelled with pride as he approached them.
Syrion passed through the portal last and closed it behind him. Hundreds of soldiers remained in the chambers beneath the Riverhold but Syrion simply couldn't afford the concentration required to maintain the portal while facing the threat before him.
Tristan approached the King’s Guard who stood before his wife's chambers and called, “Dariyen, where are you?”
A nervous soldier answered: “We don't know, Your Highness—we've been expecting the First Captain for some time, but he hasn't returned. The Palace is under attack. We believe the Night Stalkers have returned, Dariyen ordered us not to leave our post under any circumstance.”
“So the Queen is in her chambers?” Tristan asked.
“Yes, my liege. First Captain Dariyen set the guard and departed to investigate reports of the attack.”
Tristan gestured to Kalifae and spoke next. “Come with me, Kalifae—I have another task for you, if you will are willing?”
“Of course,” Kalifae answered and followed the young King as he strode toward his residence, the King’s Guard parting to allow them passage. Tristan opened the door with one hand while he clutched the Prince gingerly to his chest with the other. The door swung inward, revealing Tristan's private quarters. Linea sat in her rocking chair, a harrowed and fearful expression on her face.
Upon seeing Tristan her countenance changed and a smile crossed her face. As her eyes settled on the young Prince nestled firmly against Tristan's chest she began to weep.
“Is that my boy?” she asked desperately.
“Indeed, my love,” Tristan answered, “safe as promised.” Tristan swept across the room and gingerly handed Marius to his mother. Linea was now crying tears of joy at her son’s safe return. Tristan planted a kiss firmly on his wife's forehead. “My love, I would stay, but they are in the Palace.” There was no need for specifics—she knew exactly to whom he was referring.
“I won't be far, my love, but I must organize our defenses.”
“What about me?” Linea asked fearfully.
“I will be in the corridor right outside your door,” Tristan answered reassuringly. “And I am leaving Kalifae here with you. She is responsible for the safe return of our son and she will see you both safely through what is to come.”
The Queen looked skeptically at the woman before her and Tristan caught the look and spoke quickly: “She is a friend of Syrion’s and possesses the same talents. I trust she will ensure the two of you come to no harm.”
Kalifae nodded. “Of course, Tristan. Syrion would be devastated if any harm were to come to you. I will ensure none does. You have my word. Your wife and son will be here safe and sound with me. When you leave the chamber I will seal it against further intrusion. Syrion will know how to reach me when it is time.”
Tristan wasn't entirely sure what she meant, but took comfort in her presence at his wife's side.
Tristan returned to the hall, closing the door gently behind
him. As he did so he heard a strange grinding noise of stone moving against stone. He looked back and saw the door had disappeared entirely. In its place the stone wall now stretched seamlessly across the space where the door had been only moments before. A cacophony of footfalls drew his attention to the far end of the hall where black-clad figures were streaming up the stairway.
Rank upon rank of Night Stalkers were surging toward the residence.
Chapter 31
The Night Stalkers advanced on the waiting defenders, and Tristan was surprised to see the attackers led by a man wearing the armor and uniform of the King’s Guard. The man looked familiar but Tristan couldn’t recall where he has seen him. In his right hand he carried a sword, and in his left what appeared to be a severed head. Next to the man stood a woman in the uniform of the Night Stalkers, and her cowl resting on her shoulders revealed a familiar face.
Tristan had not seen Hitomi since Belnair, but he had imagined this moment in the weeks since the first attack on the Palace. The woman possessed an exotic and bewitching beauty, but these beguiling features were lost on Tristan, who had nothing but hate for the woman who had so savagely attacked his family.
Hitomi’s eyes settled on him and held his stare. If she was surprised to find him in the Palace Hitomi didn't show it, but her face did twist into an angry scowl. Hitomi didn't say a word but exchanged a glance with the King’s Guard standing beside her. As they drew nearer Tristan better recognized the man, a young warrior he’d seen in action during the Midsummer's Tournament, well on his way to triumphing when the Palace was attacked. Tristan was furious that one of his own guard were in league with the foul assassins.
The traitor bowled the object in his left hand down the hallway toward the waiting King’s Guard, and it rolled to a stop mere feet in front of the young King. Tristan recognized the bloody but familiar face of Dariyen Gardeau, First Captain of King’s Court. Before he could say a word Tristan heard a voice from behind him: “Dariyen, no . . .”