Holding The Line (Book 2)

by Andrew Wood

  She wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him, "calm down dear," she whispered. He felt his rage disperse, "that man makes my blood boil." She held him, and Taylor came over, "whoa dad, did you see all that steam." If there was one person who loved every little bit of magic Luken did, it was Taylor. "Yes, did you like it," he replied, making out he had done so with that very purpose in mind. His son nodded, "yes, can you do it again."

  Chapter 16.

  In Bashek, Jared and Kaden stood in front of twenty-three people. All now members of the underground resistance movement that was at last starting to take shape. They would have to be careful it did not grow too big, as that would inevitably draw attention. The last thing they needed was to be raided by a bunch of deranged Darekian troops.

  Each member had at least three others vouch for their integrity. That was something else that concerned them. The more members the more likely hood one was not entirely trustworthy. It would only take one wrong careless slip of the tongue by any of them, and they would all be dead.

  Not everybody in the group had the job of killing; in fact, barely a dozen did that task. The others were to gather supplies, weapons and food. Some were to just be eyes and ears, out on the street, picking up on any rumour that may prove useful. Plans and notes were made on where the Darekians moved or patrolled, and more importantly where they guarded. They watched and made observations of what times the gates to the city were opened and closed, or when supplies were allowed in and out, in fact, every single detail that may help.

  This last week alone had seen them account for a further eight of the guard. Each time they had struck, they made sure the bodies were hidden. As yet, nothing of consequence had resulted from it. Soon though they thought, eventually the Darekians are going to notice there little turn coat army was getting smaller. They knew they would have to be careful not to bring it to their attention.

  No further word had been sent to them from Lord Willem. As far as Jared and Kaden were aware, they were still the only two operatives working in Bashek. If by the end of summer they had still not heard, they were to assume the impending attack would not be forth coming. They were then to attempt to sneak back out and return southwards, armed with the knowledge and experiences they had gained. The two had not told those standing before them. As far as they were aware, the liberating army was coming regardless.

  They had managed to gather up quite a few weapons. These were mainly swords and daggers, of poor quality taken from the guards they had killed. However, with two of the men having access to the town's armoury, they had managed to very slowly collect a few crossbows, bows and respective ammunition for both. The men thought it best to take little amounts, so as not to cause suspicion, and so far, that philosophy had appeared to work well.

  What Kaden needed to know, was that when the South Besemian's came to liberate the city, could the people be relied upon to fight for the cause? It was difficult, because each person could not just go and randomly ask everyone what he or she would do. Each person before them could only estimate the number of people they knew who, should the circumstance arise would join and fight.

  The plan would be that once it was clear the liberation was taking place, they were to take up arms. The idea was to make the Darekians fight not only those outside the gates, but those inside as well. In fact, it would be quite likely they would have to take one of the gatehouses, and hold it long enough for the troops to start entering the city.

  The question arose, of what to do about the palace. That after all had its own walls and gates. Kaden told them that would depend on where the Darekians decided to make a stand. He assumed they would just fight in the streets, and that they were not the sort to retreat. He did not even think the priest who was running the place would consider trying to flee. Actually, he feared that one person above all others. He was aware, through rumours how Darekian priests could use some derivative of dark magic. Fighting normal troops would be dangerous enough, attempting to engage something he did not understand was something else.

  They decided, as the group was now getting bigger, that supplies be distributed to several locations around the city. More as a sort of safety back-up. If one house were discovered, it would not mean they lost everything they had collected. Finally happy they had achieved everything possible from the meeting he told them all to leave. They dispersed, a few at a time, heading off in different directions, to avoid suspicion.

  In new Easton, the keep courtyard was bustling with men and horses. The first offensive force was preparing to despatch north of the river. General Skalton had finally persuaded the king to assemble such a group. The unit was made up of twenty infantry, twenty archers all with the new arrows and ten lancers. In addition, travelling with the troops was four of the best trackers known to him. To enable them to move more speedily, they would make use of packhorses instead of wagons. There trip was to track and hunt down any sign of Orlac packs. This first foray was to last seven days, and the General made it clear he wanted to see every man back here in a week.

  The line of horses trotted out of the keep yard and down the main street of the city. The loud clattering of hooves on the cobbled stone brought the attention of the large number of people working on the building sites. Many turned to watch the banners of Corlan ride out, making the first step towards retaking the northern lands of their country. The gates of the bridge gatehouse opened for them, as they rode out across the bridge.

  Father Dagon sat outside the small tent that had been his home since arriving in New Easton. He had just spoken to Sandred, using the stone pendant. He sat with it still in his bony fingers, and sighed. He had served his Master for most of his life, had done everything that had been asked of him. Now for the first time, he was beginning to question his loyalty. Sandred wished for him to persevere with teaching that idiotic prince. He was not sure he could, things between them had nearly reached tipping point. The boy was insufferable, never listened and had a terrible temper.

  This had not been the first, or even second time the two had fallen out. Taking a deep breath, he stood and started making his way to the keep. He slowly walked along the barren stony areas cleared and marked out, but were not yet being built upon. He had always done his duty, and with a sudden renewed energy would sort this boy out. He would go and find him now, sort it out once and for all. There was so much for the boy still to learn, if only he would listen. As it was, the fool would certainly kill himself and probably everyone else with in a fifty-mile radius. If that happened, it would be as much his failure as the boys.

  The guards at the keep gate let him in, though the ones at the doors would not. "Just tell the boy I wish to see him," he said. The guard looked confused, "you wished to speak to the prince's little boy?" Dagon snapped, "No you blithering idiot why would I want to see him. The prince, fetch him." The guard looked at him, before he nodded to his colleague, "wait there." Dagon shook his head dispairingly; it seemed everyone in this city was as thick as his morning porridge.

  A message was sent up for Luken to come down to the keep entrance, ' there was a scruffy, rude old man ' wishing to speak to him. He had known straight away by the description given it was Father Dagon; no one else he knew fitted that portrayal. He had thought about refusing, until Sarena had persuaded him to at least go and make his peace. Begrudgingly he slowly made his way down the stairs; going through his mind of all the names, he might call him, giggling to himself when he thought of a particularly witty one.

  The guard stepped aside for him to exit, and there before him was the most irritating old man he had ever had the displeasure of meeting. He stepped out into the yard to talk and shielded his eyes, as they adjusted from the gloomy keep to the brightness of the sun. "What is it you want Dagon? I thought we had decided not to bother each other anymore. We only ever end up arguing, you do not like me, you have made that quite plain." The old man looked at him, "Perhaps. I have spoken to Sandred again, he still asks me to persevere with your arrogance and incred
ulous attitude." Luken shrugged, "see we have spoken two sentences and already we have resorted to name calling."

  People moved around the yard, and the two continued their little chat whilst trying to dodge workers moving this way and that. "Dagon, do not get me wrong I would love to learn all these great magical things you reckon I should be able to do, but you do not give me chance." Dagon was about to reply when he suddenly leapt in front of Luken, and a man bumped into them, knocking both off balance.

  The old man grunted, and then looked up despairingly, and at first, the young prince did not understand what had taken place. Luken then noticed the dagger wound in Dagon's chest, and managed to shout for the guards before the blade came towards him. The red blood seeped outwards through the old man's beige robe. Instinctively raising his hand to defend himself, he saw the attacker go flying up and backwards across the yard, and thumping back to the ground.

  The guards quickly surrounded him, and he looked down to the old man at his feet. Kneeling beside him, he felt for a pulse, hoping he may still be alive. Perhaps he would be able to help, but there was no sign of life. He could tell that the blade had plunged deep into the man's heart, but with no water at hand, he could not even try to heal. The keeps bell started ringing, a call to arms and they were under possible attack. He shouted out for water, and after a little confusion, one of the stable hands ran with a bucket, slopping liquid across the yard as he did.

  Grabbing the bucket, he just threw the contents over the body on the floor. Attempting once more to utilise the gift given to him, he felt frustration, as no matter what, the healing just would not work. He could see the puncture ripping the heart nearly in two, but he was powerless to repair it. He stood back, reluctantly giving up. He may have great power, but not even he was able to bring people back from the dead. He realised then that the old man had saved his life. He must have seen the knife coming, and sacrificed himself to save Luken. That blade wound in Dagon's chest was aimed at his, and the man responsible, was being dragged across the yard, kicking and flailing.

  General Skalton appeared from the keep. Looking quickly around, noticing the prince was okay. He grabbed the nearest guard and demanded to know what had taken place. Before moving towards Luken, "are you alright your highness, "he asked as he noticed the old man dead on the ground. Luken nodded, "yes Thomas, thank you. Just a little shaken, that blade was meant for me." The General looked to where the prisoner was being held, and then to the ring of guards, "Get the prince inside the keep. No one you don't recognise gets in." With that, Luken was ushered across the yard and back in through the keep door.

  The keep gates were ordered closed, "no one in or out!" the General shouted. Guards from the keep and barracks were now flooding out into the yard. The prisoner squirmed and wriggled trying to free himself. Managing to pull an arm free he lashed out at the guard holding his other arm. Struggling to hold on to stop the prisoner escaping the guard smashed a fist in to his face. The General hurried over and helped restrain him.

  "Who sent you?" He yelled at the bloodied man's face. His only reply was to be spat at, an action that earned him another blow to the head. Suddenly the prisoner started foaming at the mouth, coughing and spluttering before finally going limp. "He's dead Sir," the guard said checking. Letting the man's limp body fall to the floor, the General checked for any clues. It was obvious he had managed to take his own life, by somehow biting down on something in his mouth. Probably some sort of poison, to ensure if he was ever captured, he would die before revealing any answers.

  General Skalton was quite sure, from where the man originated, and rolling up the sleeve on the prisoners left arm confirmed his suspicions. "Darekian assassin, we need to maintain tight security. These always work in pairs." On the arm of the man was a tattoo, depicting a human skull, a symbol he had seen once before many years ago. Other than that, there were no further indications as to where the man had come from. He had probably walked in to the city, mixed in with the builders and traders, and somewhere there was very likely another.

  He ordered everything remain locked down, he knew these assassins always worked in pairs. Somewhere, whether in the keep or the city would be the other. They needed to find him, before he found his way to his target. He quickly ordered the bodies in the yard to be cleared away, before returning into the keep. The King would need to be warned, and the prince and his family protected.

  Guards were stationed on every floor, as well as taking positions on the staircases themselves. He found both the King and Prince sat in the sitting room of Lukens quarters. The young man had clearly been shaken, and was being comforted by his wife, and sipping a glass of brandy. On noticing the General enter, Caldar stood, "What is going on Thomas?" clearly shocked himself at the attempt on his brother's life.

  The General gave his surmise. The attacker had been Darekian, and had taken his own life when captured. "It appears that the Darekian's have heard about our magical prince your majesty. More to the point, these assassins always work in two's." There were a few looks of panic, but he told them he had done all he could to make sure no one could get in. "As a precaution, I wish to check the left arm of every person in this keep. Our man will have a small tattoo of a skull, just here," he pointed to a place on his lower arm.

  Whilst the others were busy listening to the General talking, Taylor thought it his chance to steal a sip from his dad's drink. Quietly and tentatively moving the glass up to his mouth, and taking a quick taste, whilst everyone else looked away. After coughing and spluttering the contents back out over the table, the young boy looked a little abashed, clearly thinking his crime had not been worth it. His dad looked at him sternly, "Taylor," he snapped," now is not the time for tomfoolery, serves you right."

  Working from the top floor down, every worker, guard and member of royal staff was subjected to a check. The royals were, for safety all kept in the same room, with Royal Guard's inside and out. Luken was still shaken and had started thinking it was his fault for Father Dagon's demise. After all the arguments and name-calling between the two, the old man had sacrificed his own life to safe him.

  A guard bought up the item Luken had requested, it was the stone pendant from Dagon's corpse. He held it in his hand, and felt it his duty to let Sandred know. He was not even sure it would work for him, as all attempts for the old wizard to make contact with Luken had proved somewhat futile. He thought it worth a try, and tried to recall how Dagon had used the stone.

  He felt the stone warm a little, but all he got were garbled images and sounds in his mind. It was if he were looking at pictures of his dreams of the old man, but all distorted. Trying several times he finally gave up. Sarena patted his hand, "would you like me to try", she said softly. She took the pendant, and nearly jumped from her skin as she heard a voice and the image of an old man in her mind. "Ooh! It's working, what shall I tell him Luken?" she asked. "Can you hear me Sandred?" Luken asked. Sarena was quite excited, "yes, he says yes he can."

  Luken spent the next five minutes explaining the circumstances surrounding Father Dagon's death. How, had he been a better pupil, it would have never have happened. "He says you cannot blame yourself. Dagon gave his life willingly to save yours. Do that justice by learning," Sarena said, passing on the message. "Hello Sandred," Taylor shouted into the conversation. "Sandred says hello to you," she replied still excited by the novelty of it all.

  If Luken was willing, and providing it was acceptable with his wife, Sarena should keep the pendant. She could act as the link between her husband and the wizard, and Luken would now be taught directly by Sandred. It was clearly not the ideal situation but, as for some reason still unknown to the wizard, Luken and he could not communicate directly. For now, they needed to concentrate finding the second assassin still at large somewhere in New Easton.

  General Skalton ensured the room was clear of everybody, aside from the members of the royal family. Much to his king's disgust, even Vanessa was excluded. It was not that he doubted her in an
y way, nor did he for one instance think she was a Darekian sent on a mission to kill the prince. He had come up with a plan and for it to have any chance of being successful, the fewer who knew the better. He told them if others knew they may act or behave differently, and that may be a factor in keeping the intruder from revealing himself. Both Caldar and Luken were aware of the seriousness, and so allowed their General to put his plan forward.

  Despite every person in the keep having been checked Thomas Skalton still suspected his target to be somewhere within. Hidden away, moving between the shadows, as only a killer of this ilk would do. Nighttime came and with the light within now only being supplied by the lamps burning in the hallways, it was a good time for such a man to make a move. With staff all retreating to their own rooms, moving about would be less dangerous for someone sneaking about. Guards were positioned outside the doors of the rooms that held the royals, and as the night progressed and they turned in for the night, it would be time for the killer to strike.

  In the very early hours of the morning, as all was silent a dark figure moved in amongst the shadows. Two guards stood outside each of the doors, but the figure new which room to enter. Moving slowly and quietly, he extinguished one of the lamps burning on the wall. One of the guards ventured over to investigate. The intruder then turned out another, causing the corridor to drop into virtual darkness. The guard quickly re-lit the lamp, and he and his colleagues checked the area for anything suspicious. There was no sign of anyone, and all the doors were still closed.

  Inside the room, the figure stood behind the door he had entered. Listening to see if the guards returned to their posts or raised any sort of alarm. Satisfied he had slipped past them, he continued in, passing across the sitting room and to toward the bedroom. Silently opening the bedroom door, he could see two dark shapes lying in the bed. Gradually pulling his dagger, he edged closer to the slumbering couple. He raised the blade up to strike down on the dark shape nearest to him.