“That is too much to ask.”
“It makes perfect sense. It is a small price to pay for our support. And what you are doing in the Five Markets is not good for business. People become tighter with their money, the guard move us on that much quicker. It’s bad business, Magnus and you only have the greed of your thieves to blame.”
Exhaling noisily, Magnus eventually nodded. “I’ll withdraw our teams from the Five Markets tomorrow, but they come up for negotiation again when we discuss the continuance of our alliance.”
Sebastian, still crouched on his crate, looked down at Magnus imperiously for a moment, then smiled.
“Then we have an understanding. I’ll arrange for one of us to report to your guildhouse daily. We’ll update you with anything learned, and you can suggest where we concentrate our efforts.”
“Good enough,” said Magnus. “I presume you already know where our guildhouse is.”
He received a look of scorn for his trouble. “Magnus, we already know the knock code to gain entry through your own front door.”
“Of course you do,” Magnus muttered, and Lucius guessed that the system would be changed wholesale that very night. “Who will be our liaison?”
“Grennar, I think. She is most suited to the task.” Magnus looked doubtfully down at the young girl, who stared back defiantly. “Don’t let her tender years mislead you, Magnus. She is probably smarter than both of us.”
Magnus shrugged. “Fine. Send her to us tonight.”
“She’ll be there,” Sebastian said. “One other thing, a down payment on our side of the bargain. Have a care as you walk about the city, Magnus. Your enemies know you have left the guildhouse, and that disguise is not going to fool anyone”
Lucius looked up at Sebastian in alarm. “How do they know?”
“The Guild’s own spy network is not as extensive as ours, but it’s still shrewd enough. Loredo is playing his own game at the moment, pulling on the Vos army for muscle and information, while giving as little in return as possible – Grennar will tell you what we have learned there later. But, for now, be careful. Assassins are on the streets looking for you.”
“We should go, quickly,” Lucius said, turning to Magnus. He glanced at Taene and Narsell, and saw both had their hands on their weapons and were already scanning the nearby crowds for danger.
Magnus agreed, then faced the beggars. “Sebastian, a pleasure.”
The beggar master nodded once. “Just make sure you stay in one piece. I don’t want to have this conversation with Loredo down the line.”
Taene and Narsell hustled them away from Ring Street, choosing quieter side roads and the wider alleys in an effort to avoid crowds. Now their mission was done, there was no need to take unnecessary risks, and the bodyguards placed themselves ahead and behind Magnus and Lucius.
“That was an expensive agreement,” Lucius said cautiously.
“It could have been far more costly,” Magnus said. “I was expecting him to demand a portion of the vault from the outset, as it will take time for our operations to reach their full potential again, even if this war is won quickly with the minimum of bloodshed. But I think he had already fixed his sights on the Five Markets.”
“Ambrose will not be happy with that, nor will the others involved in the pick-pocketing.”
“The Five Markets represent a higher cost than that, Lucius,” Magnus said. “They are a magnet for everyone in the city, be they resident or visitor. The pickpocket teams are where we have always trained the youngest among us, bringing fresh blood into the guild on a regular basis. Now, those children will become beggars, while we must look elsewhere for recruits. That is the true value of the territory.”
Lucius had not considered that, and it began to dawn on him just how complicated the structure of these negotiations could become. Narsell, leading them down a narrow street lined with tanners, ironmongers and other tradesmen, suddenly hissed, and Lucius looked up to see a patrol of Vos guard rounding the junction ahead. They steered right, heading down a short alley behind a carpenters but, as they emerged into the parallel street, they saw another patrol just a few dozen yards away.
“That’s no coincidence,” Magnus muttered, and Lucius felt the tension rise in both Narsell and Taene. They headed away from the patrols, directly back to Ring Street, with Lucius reaching beneath his cloak to feel the reassuring presence of his sword. They could see the crowds churning along Ring Street just a little distance ahead, but the Vos patrol had already changed its course to follow them, and they were not being discreet about it.
“Get ready to run,” Narsell whispered, and Lucius saw him raise a hand in preparation for the signal to take action. Before he could give it, two groups of men stumbled out of opposite alleyways ahead of them, some singing drunkenly, others stumbling as they clutched bottles.
The timing of their appearance set Lucius on edge, and he felt in his stomach that these were no mere revellers in search of another tavern. Magnus and the bodyguards had stopped, and Taene’s blade was half-drawn. Lucius looked back at the Vos guards, who had not quickened their pace, but still continued towards them relentlessly. If the drunks proved hostile, they were cut off from any path of escape, but he did not relish trying to smash through the soldiers while fleeing.
“Carry on,” Magnus urged. “We’ll do better with the drunks than the guard.”
They moved to obey, and watched as the two groups of men merged with one another, laughing and slapping one another on the back, seemingly oblivious to the four thieves marching warily toward them. However, Lucius had already noted one or two sidelong gazes directed their way, and knew then they were in for trouble.
A woman strode out from among the press of men and, too late, Lucius recognised her as Jewel. He opened his mouth to cry out, but Narsell and Taene were already reacting, drawing their swords and moving to shield Magnus. She raised a small one-handed crossbow and tightened her grip on the lever. Lucius heard a quiet whistle through the air, then Narsell collapsed to the ground, a short bolt protruding from his throat.
Jewel grinned as she dropped the crossbow and drew a dagger from her belt. The men behind her whooped in excitement, and a range of daggers and short blades appeared in their hands. Led by Jewel, they charged.
Taene showed no fear, and little regard for his own life as he met the attack. Side-stepping one man and kicking out at another, his sword claimed two lives within seconds, and the deaths checked the momentum of the charge. He was soon fighting for his life, but he always manoeuvred to keep himself between Magnus and the bulk of the pack.
For his part, Magnus had already drawn his own weapon, a finely balanced short sword, but Lucius grabbed him and propelled the guildmaster forward, hoping to break through the gang and then disappear into the crowds just a couple of hundred yards ahead on Ring Street. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the patrol had stopped, evidently happy to let the thieves kill one another before moving in.
“Go!” Taene shouted as he fell under a swarm of bodies, his sword reappearing momentarily as it continued to hack down at those around him. Blood was already flowing across the cobbles of the street but Lucius knew the bodyguard’s skill and luck would not save him in that tight press.
The rest of the Guild men, frustrated at not being able to reach Taene because of the press of bodies surrounding him, broke off from the fight and ran to cut off Magnus and Lucius from escape. Knowing he could not fight them all, Lucius cursed as he shoved the guildmaster behind him. He felt the threads of power respond to his call and he grabbed one whose energy was deeply familiar. This time, however, he allowed the thread to spiral and grow until he could barely contain the form he moulded it to in his mind. With a loud cry, he brought his arm down in a wide sweep, and felt the energy pass through his body to push the air away from him in an explosive burst.
Hit by an unyielding wall of wind, the men were tossed back, sprawling on the ground as they lay stunned and gasping for breath. Breathing hea
vily from the exertion, Lucius staggered as he grabbed Magnus again to spur him on, trying desperately to ignore the look of suspicious amazement in the man’s face.
They started to run, feet pounding the street, each step taking them further from the murderous crowd behind. Magnus cried out, and Lucius felt the man stumble against him, the weight almost pulling him down to the ground. Catching his balance, Lucius turned to get Magnus back on his feet, and saw a slender knife embedded deep in the back of his thigh. Blood oozed slowly from the wound, but Lucius knew that, as deep as the blade had gone, the flow would quickly speed up if the weapon was removed.
“Lucius!” Magnus shouted the warning and even as he scrambled to one side, Lucius sensed motion beside him. Ducking low and rolling backwards, he grabbed for the sword at his back even as another blade sliced through the air between them.
He jumped to his feet, and saw Jewel standing just a few feet from him, her eyes narrowed to slits as she watched them both, judging which to be the greater threat. Her face remained flat and expressionless, betraying no emotion whatsoever. She apparently decided that, with Magnus already wounded and struggling to get to his feet, Lucius was her priority. Covering the distance between them in two easy strides, she swiped through the air with her sword, as if testing his reactions; she then crouched low and whirled round in a circle, the blade building momentum as it spun towards his shins.
Lucius sprang back, then held his sword forward defensively, as if warding the woman back. Rising to her full height again, Jewel drew a dagger from her belt. Lucius stabbed forward, but a casual flick of her dagger turned his blade, holding it to one side as her own sword was held aloft for an instant, then brought down to slash his skull in two.
Off balance from her parry, but seeing the danger, Lucius reached up and grabbed her wrist, surprised at her sinewy strength as he strained to keep her sword clear.
He tried to muster his strength to drive Jewel down, wanting to pin her to the ground where his weight would give him the advantage, but she yielded only an inch at a time. Straining with the effort, he suddenly felt the air driven out of his lungs as her knee drove hard into his groin. A split second later, his world exploded into stars of pain as her forehead smashed into the bridge of his nose.
Sightless and writhing in agony, Lucius felt the ground rise up to hit him hard. Expecting to feel Jewel’s blade pierce his heart at any moment, he shook his head to clear his vision as he tried to get to his knees.
The world blurred in front of him, then suddenly sharpened into stark reality. Jewel’s back was toward him as she strode toward Magnus. The guildmaster was limping badly as he tried to circle her, his own weapon held before him. As she slashed her sword at his chest, he met the attack, and a loud ringing of metal echoed off the buildings along the street as their weapons met. Immediately, Jewel drew her sword back and thrust forward again, only to be turned by a desperate parry from Magnus.
Lucius tried to get to his feet but stumbled and he started crawling toward Magnus and Jewel, desperate to aid his friend before the murderess could finish him. He could see Magnus was in a lot of pain, and Jewel was forcing him to keep moving, every step forcing the dagger in the back of his leg to grind against bone. Their swords met again, and Magnus was forced to give more ground, fighting purely defensively, with Jewel giving him no opportunity to attack.
Drawing a ragged breath, Lucius was finally able to force air into his lungs, and he used his sword as a brace to get him back on his feet. He caught Magnus’ eye, and a look flicked between them. Magnus hobbled to the left, bringing Jewel round with him, so her back was kept to Lucius. Lifting his sword, Lucius staggered toward her, fixing his gaze between her shoulder blades, where he intended to plant his weapon and so rid the Hands of this dreadful enemy.
Magnus roared as he thrust his sword forward, as much to distract Jewel as score a hit, and the woman easily side-stepped his attack. Lucius was closing on her now and he began to run, painful though the movement was. He raised his sword, its point aimed squarely at her back, and prepared to thrust down with all his remaining strength.
Jewel turned and flung her left arm out, releasing her dagger. It was a hasty attack, but the spinning blade still thumped home into Lucius’ right arm. He cried out in pain as his sword fell from suddenly lifeless fingers, his left hand instinctively grasping the wound.
He bent down to fumble for his sword, but looked up as Jewel whirled back to Magnus, her foot lashing out to strike him on his wounded leg. The shock of the impact was enough to make Magnus cry out in pain and he reeled backwards, tripping on the cobbles.
“No!” Lucius cried out as he saw the inevitability of her next action. Jewel calmly thrust her sword through Magnus’ chest. The guildmaster coughed blood as he tried to grasp the blade that had ploughed through his breast bone, then he fell limp.
Anger and deadly fury swept through Lucius now, as he saw Jewel casually withdraw her sword and wipe it on Magnus’ cloak. Then, she turned back to him.
“Bitch!”
He was not aware of his cry of vengeance, feeling only the threads of power surging forward, each eager to be clasped by his mind and moulded by his rage. Without thinking, he grabbed the brightest and hurled its force, unchecked and barely formed, at the woman.
A burst of argent fire soared from the fist he punched at her, the ball of white-hot energy burning the air itself as it shot forth. He saw Jewel’s eyes widen a fraction as the magic surged toward her, and she flinched to one side as the silver flames swept past her face. She shrieked with pain and the smell of burnt flesh rolled over him.
Recoiling backwards and dropping her sword, Jewel clutched at her face, the whole left side having been blackened and scorched by the magical fire. Her hair burned and her ear had been shrivelled by the heat. She took only seconds to recover, and then stared back at Lucius, emotion coming to her ruined face for the first time. He felt her loathing, her fury and terrible desire to inflict pain upon him, and he stood to await the inevitable, having no energy for anything else.
Just as quickly, the hate fled from her eyes, and they flickered down to the corpse at her feet. Seeing no movement, she nodded to herself once, then turned, and walked away. She called out to the men still standing, and they followed her, leaving only bodies lying in the bloody street.
Lucius was alone. Narsell and Taene lay still ahead of him, the latter barely recognisable after having been all but torn apart by the Guild men. He knelt down beside Magnus, hoping beyond hope that he would still feel a pulse in the guildmaster’s veins. Magnus, however, had already left.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
UPON HIS ARRIVAL, the guildhouse erupted into turmoil. Lucius had entered the building, his face betraying no emotion other than a hard, frozen shock. Taking a place in the common room, questions and accusations rolled over him like the gigantic waves pounding at the harbour defences but, like the monolithic breakers that stalled the ocean, he remained immovable.
The absence of Magnus, Taene and Narsell spoke volumes, and every thief present knew something had gone tragically wrong. Without explanation from Lucius, rumour and paranoia ran rampant, with scare stories growing ever more fantastic and yet all the more plausible for it. Within a few minutes, there were a good number of thieves who believed the Vos guard had marched onto the streets with lists detailing all their names, and were seeking to murder every one of them.
Calm was not restored until Elaine entered the common room and, upon seeing Lucius, she ordered everyone to leave. Many seemed ready to protest her authority now the guildmaster was dead, but her withering look broke any resistance.
Sitting opposite Lucius, she stared across the table at him, the silence of the empty common room seeming almost deafening to him. She reached out to touch his hand and asked him what had happened. Haltingly, he told her. The finding of Sebastian and the alliance forged between thief and beggar. The presence of the Vos guard on the streets, and the ambush by Guild men.
Jew
el. Terrible, deadly Jewel.
He fell silent when his tale was complete, and Elaine had no words. They sat together, in silence as they brooded and mourned, contemplating the loss of their guildmaster and what the Guild would now do to finish them off.
Lucius found his own melancholy a little puzzling. He had liked Magnus, of course – who hadn’t? He had been a good leader, quick to spot talent and loyalty, and ready to reward both. What Lucius had not counted on was how much the Night Hands had become his new home and family, how much Magnus had really meant to him.
Part of the hurt, he knew, was his own failure to stop the assassination, and now anger boiled within him too. He clung on to that feeling, knowing that in the trials ahead, it would prove useful.
Elaine reached across the table to touch him again, this time shaking him firmly out of his darker thoughts.
“Pull yourself together, Lucius,” she said. “Magnus trusted you, and so I must too. We are about to fall apart, and we need all the strength we can muster to stop us breaking.”
He looked up at her mutely for a moment, then nodded.
“There will be a meeting,” she said. “It will be chaotic, so be prepared.”
ELAINE HAD NOT been wrong. With the Council decimated and Magnus gone, anarchy began to take hold within the Night Hands. The council chamber barely contained the riot as the voices of dozens of thieves, all packed into the inadequate space, competed with one another to be heard.
The remaining Council took seats around the table; Elaine, Wendric, Nate, and now Lucius. Some of the thieves forced to stand raised objections to Lucius’ presence at the table, but a sharp word from Elaine silenced their criticisms.
Grennar was also at the table, at Lucius’ side, and her transformation was remarkable. No longer a young beggar girl wreathed in rags, she sat straight and appeared utterly confident. Dressed in a tight-fitting blue gown, she might have been the daughter of a wealthy city official. Most stunning was her face; sharp, lightly freckled, once clean it revealed a girl of perhaps no more than fourteen. Her young age was a great surprise to the Council, some of whom had wondered out loud whether the beggars were taking them seriously. However, Magnus’ posthumous endorsement of the alliance proved sufficient for them to invite her to the table.
The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books) Page 22