Decimus Fate and the Butcher of Guile: (Decimus Fate - Book 2)

by Peter A Flannery

  They stopped talking as one of the witches came into view through the gate. Even from this distance they could see the dark shadow of the witch’s sunken eyes.

  ‘They look almost skeletal,’ whispered Motina.

  ‘That’s the price you pay for dealing with the Daemonaria,’ murmured the Tutor.

  ‘And that’s what they use as currency,’ said Motina pointing towards the witch’s belt.

  Both Fate and the Tutor knew what she meant. She was referring to the dark crystal spheres hanging from the dark sisters’ belts. Each of those spheres contained a Diminutian; the smallest type of faerie. The witches caught the faeries and sealed them into spheres for dealing with entities in the realm of demons.

  ‘Just looking at these traitors makes my blood boil,’ said Motina.

  ‘Mine too,’ murmured Fate, ‘but the Tutor’s right. It would be suicide to attack while Medici has their protection. Hopefully, he will dismiss them once he believes that I’m dead.’

  ‘The idea of letting them get away makes me feel sick,’ said Motina.

  ‘I know,’ said Fate. ‘But your revenge will have to wait for another time.’

  ‘Psst!’

  They glanced round to see Weasel pushing his way through the bushes.

  ‘Thirteen,’ said the young wayfinder. ‘We counted thirteen witches in the grounds.’

  ‘A full coven,’ said Motina and Fate nodded.

  ‘And Veleno?’ he asked.

  From inside his shirt, Weasel produced Fate’s dragon-handled dagger. ‘He’s on his way,’ he said with a smile.

  Fate dipped his head in acknowledgement as Weasel returned his dagger, then scowled as the wayfinder moved to join them. ‘What are you doing?’ asked the sorcerer.

  ‘I’m staying to watch.’

  ‘No,’ said Fate. ‘I need you to deliver a letter. And then you should go and say goodbye to Luca. He will be leaving for the coast tonight, as soon as Cradlop delivers his doppelganger to the river.’

  Weasel’s face fell. He hated missing out on the excitement although he would like to see Madam de Lorni’s son one more time before he left the city for good.

  ‘What letter?’ he asked in a sulky tone.

  ‘To Lord Medici’s brother,’ said Fate.

  ‘Didn’t Medici warn us against that?’ asked the Tutor.

  ‘I think we’re beyond the point of warnings, don’t you?’ said Fate. ‘Besides, the brother deserves to know what really happened to his daughter. And if we succeed in killing Medici, then he might just stop the rest of the family from coming after us.’

  Reaching into a pocket, Fate pulled out a letter and a small pouch of coins.

  ‘Take this to the East Gate pigeoneer,’ he told Weasel. ‘Tell him to use a reliable bird.’

  Reluctantly, Weasel took the letter then his head came up as he heard a distinctive whistle.

  ‘That’s Kirsten,’ he announced, referring to one of his fellow wayfinders. ‘Master Veleno’s here.’

  Judging by the reaction of the guards on the gate, Weasel was right. Two of them moved to block the gate while a third called back towards the house. A few moments later, Lord Medici himself appeared in the gateway, flanked by the two shimmering patches of air and three of the Black Pact witches.

  ‘Is it him?’ Lord Medici asked the guards as he reached the gate and looked up the street to where Veleno was now approaching on his beautiful black stallion. ‘Is he dead?’

  The guards did not answer. They had no idea if the sorcerer called Fate was dead. All they knew was that the crime boss, known as Master Veleno, was riding towards them.

  ‘Ah, my good friend Medici,’ called out Veleno as he drew up to the gate. ‘I am sorry to hear about the death of your son, but I have something here that might ease the pain of his passing.’

  Veleno was accompanied by a retinue of six guards plus Xanda, his personal mage. He was also leading a second horse, across the saddle of which was draped the body of a man dressed in charcoal grey robes.

  ‘This is it,’ whispered the Tutor. ‘Now we’ll see if Veleno can be trusted.’

  ‘I know how far I can trust Veleno,’ said Fate. ‘It’s the witches that bother me.’

  They then watched as Medici’s guards came forward to take the body down from the horse. They laid the body on the driveway and stepped back as Lord Medici came forward with his personal valet just a few steps behind.

  ‘It’s him,’ he said with a note of disbelief. ‘It’s really him.’ He glanced at his guards as if he were looking to them to confirm Fate’s identity. Two of the men nodded their concurrence and Medici looked back to Veleno. ‘But how?’ he asked. ‘I was told this man was cunning and dangerous.’

  ‘Indeed he was,’ said Veleno, then he raised his voice as if he knew that Fate would be listening. ‘But the fool turned his back on magic, and now… he’s dead!’

  Hidden by the leaves of the park, Fate smiled at Veleno’s dramatics.

  For a moment longer Medici stared down at Fate’s face. ‘You… have my thanks, Veleno,’ he said.

  ‘It’s the least I could do to avenge your son,’ said Veleno.

  ‘Don’t overdo it,’ muttered Fate.

  ‘Have you found Alonso’s body yet?’ asked Veleno and Medici’s lip curled in anger as he was reminded of his son.

  ‘No,’ he snarled.

  ‘You will,’ said Veleno. ‘I’m sure he isn’t far away.’

  ‘He just can’t help himself, can he?’ whispered the Tutor.

  Veleno looked like he was trying to suppress a smile as he scanned the surrounding streets. The gesture seemed to suggest that he was looking for Medici’s son, but Fate knew he was scanning the area for any sign of where he might be hiding.

  ‘In the meantime,’ continued Veleno, ‘there was some mention of a reward…’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ said Medici, gesturing to his valet as he continued to stare down at the man in the charcoal grey robes.

  From inside his doublet, the valet produced a large pouch of gold. He started towards Veleno who frowned as if the act of being paid in the street was somehow vulgar. After a moment’s hesitation, the valet passed the reward to one of Veleno’s men.

  ‘Well if that’s everything,’ said the Lord of the City. ‘Then I’ll leave you to your grief and the continued search for your son.’

  Lord Medici barely heard Veleno. Seemingly lost in thought, he continued to stare down at the body in the charcoal grey robes.

  ‘What should we do with him?’ asked one of the guards.

  ‘’What?’ asked Medici distractedly.

  ‘The sorcerer,’ said the guard. ‘What should we do with his body?’

  ‘Oh,’ said Medici, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts then… ‘Burn him!’ he spat. ‘Burn him to ash, and then burn the pile of drab stones that he calls a home.’

  ‘Wait!’

  The commanding voice stopped everyone in their tracks as one of the witches stepped forward.

  ‘Maybe we should examine the slayer’s body.’

  Gesturing for one of her sisters to join her, the leader of the witches approached the body then stopped as Veleno’s magic-user, Xanda, summoned a wall of protective force.

  The leader of the witches frowned in suspicion.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.

  ‘I am protecting the lives of myself and my lord,’ said Xanda as he extended the wall of force to cover Master Veleno.

  ‘From what?’ asked the witch.

  ‘From the tattoos on Lord Fate’s skin,’ said Xanda as if he were stating the obvious.

  A glint of alarm flashed in the witch’s eyes as she looked from Xanda to the body of Fate.

  ‘The last time I crossed Fate he did this,’ said Xanda, indicating the side of his face that was now formed from smoky black glass. ‘Every day I live with agony and I have no wish to die from the tattoos that protect this sorcerer’s flesh.’

  The witch’s face twisted wi
th uncertainty as she glanced down at Fate’s body where a number of tattoos were visible on his wrists and neck. With a hiss of frustration, she gestured one of her sisters forward.

  ‘You have knowledge of this protective art,’ she began. ‘Do you sense any danger in examining the body?’

  Looking distinctly wary, the witch leaned forward, keeping her distance as she tried to see more of the tattoos.

  ‘I have not seen these particular designs, but they do resemble inscriptions of power.’

  Once more the leader of the witches hesitated.

  ‘Enough of this,’ cried Lord Medici. ‘We’ll burn his body, scatter the ashes and that will be an end to it. Now begone,’ he told the witches. ‘The sorcerer is dead and your presence is no longer required.’

  The lead witch’s voice took on a menacing tone.

  ‘In Karuthia this man had a reputation for…’

  ‘I don’t care about his reputation,’ snapped Medici. ‘You have kept your side of the Black Pact bargain, and I have paid the appropriate fee. Now go.’

  ‘As you wish,’ said the leader, although the expression in her deep-set eyes was not one of obedience. Nevertheless, she made a sweeping gesture with her heron-skull wand and the coven of thirteen witches began to gather on the lawn.

  ‘Thank you, Veleno,’ said Medici as the Lord of the City turned to leave. ‘I am in your debt.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Veleno. With a final magnanimous wave he led his men away from the gate and Medici turned to the thirteen witches now gathered on his lawn.

  From their hiding place, Fate and the others could only see three of the witches, but still they watched as each conjured smoke from their wands and weaved it around themselves until they were fully concealed. The columns of smoke then shimmered with a faint pulse of light and the smoke sank down into the earth, leaving nothing behind but another patch of scorched grass.

  ‘Wow!’ breathed Weasel, clearly impressed by this magical feat. ‘Can you do that?’ he asked Motina whose eyes were narrowed in thought as she stared at the spot where the leader of the witches had disappeared.

  ‘What?’ said Motina coming out of her reverie with an indignant humph. ‘Can I sink down into the realm of demons just to save myself a few days of travel on the back of a horse?’

  ‘It’s more than a few days ride to Karuthia,’ added Fate and Motina fixed him with a steely glare.

  ‘No,’ she said in a clipped tone. ‘I can’t.’

  Fate put a hand on her arm to convey that he meant no harm. They then watched as Medici dismissed the additional guards he had posted around the grounds. Clearly relieved not to be facing a notorious sorcerer, the men ambled out of the gate and headed off towards the nearest tavern.

  ‘You should get back to the house,’ Fate told Motina as the guards disappeared from view. ‘And you need to send that letter,’ he added to Weasel.

  ‘So you’re still going after Medici?’ asked Motina.

  ‘I have to,’ said Fate. ‘Right now his guard is down, but sooner or later he will find out that I’m not dead and he won’t make the same mistake twice.’

  ‘Maybe I should…’ began Motina, but Fate cut her off.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘This task is for me and Alexander. Besides…’ he added with a glint in his gold-flecked eyes. ‘I have a plan.’

  ‘I’m sure you do,’ said Motina with a familiar arched brow. ‘Come on,’ she said to Weasel. ‘You send that letter, say goodbye to Luca, and then meet me back at the house for some supper.’

  Even the mention of food was not enough to tempt Weasel away, but he knew he had no choice. Reluctantly he hung his head and followed Motina out of the park before they went their separate ways. As they disappeared from view, Fate turned to the Tutor.

  ‘Are you ready?’

  The Tutor nodded. ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘I think we wait for those additional guards to get out of earshot and then go in over the wall. If you enter through Alonso’s quarters you can announce your presence and draw Medici out into the garden.’

  ‘Into the garden?’ queried the Tutor.

  ‘More room to fight, and quicker to escape if more guards arrive,’ said Fate.

  The Tutor frowned. He had the distinct impression there was something that Fate was not telling him.

  ‘And those patches of air that follow Medici around… have you figured out what they are?’

  ‘I have my suspicions,’ said Fate.

  ‘And?’ said the Tutor, his tone making it clear how frustrating Fate’s vagueness could be.

  ‘I think they’re Don’Sha’Vir,’ said Fate; ‘Don’Sha’Vir with their presence masked by an enchantment of concealment.’

  ‘And you think I can handle two of them?’ asked the Tutor. ‘In addition to Medici’s guards?’

  ‘I think we’ll be fine,’ said Fate with that infuriating smile, ‘just so long as we can draw them out into the garden.’

  ‘Whatever you say,’ said the Tutor. ‘But if things get too hairy then I’m high-tailing it over the wall.’ Placing a hand on the hilt of his Hadean blade, he pushed through the laurel bushes and checked to make sure the coast was clear. ‘After all,’ he added as he stepped out into the street. ‘It wasn’t me who killed Medici’s son.’

  Fate’s smile broadened as he followed the demon hunter round to a point where some trees made it easier to climb over the boundary wall of Medici’s grounds. The wealthy nobleman had tried to kill them and now it was time for Lord Alfredo Medici to pay the price.

  *

  Motina was only a few hundred yards from the Medici mansion when a worrying thought crept into her mind. They had all seen the Black Pact witches departing from the gardens, but Motina recalled the leader’s reluctance to leave and now Motina was wondering if the smoke from the leader’s column had fully disappeared into the grass.

  No… something felt wrong and Motina came to a stop.

  The dark sisters were evil and cunning. In Karuthia they had been dismissed as a small and insignificant cult and yet the damage they had done was horrific. The magic-users of Karuthia had underestimated them and Varna Motina would not make the same mistake twice. She was not sure what assistance she might be able to provide, but if her suspicions were correct, then simply warning Fate and the Tutor might be enough.

  Turning around, she hobbled as quickly as she could, following the boundary wall to the point where Fate and the Tutor had decided to enter. The branches of the trees were conveniently placed, but for a woman of Motina’s crooked build they were a significant obstacle. Slowly she worked her way up until she could see over the wall. And there she stood, breathing heavily and looking through the autumn leaves to the garden beyond.

  ‘Now we’ll see if you’ve really gone,’ she murmured to herself.

  Halfway to the house, she could just make out a figure in charcoal grey robes tucked into the folds of some dense conifers. And further on, crouched like a shadow before a pair of glazed patio doors, was the black-clad figure of the Tutor. For a few moments, the demon hunter appeared to be working at the doors and then a gap opened up and he slipped inside, but only a minute passed before there was a shout from inside the house.

  Candles flared in the windows of the house and now Motina could see movement inside. A moment later the Tutor appeared back at the open doors where he actually stopped as if he was waiting for someone to catch up.

  ‘It’s the hunter!’ came Lord Medici’s frantic cry from inside the room. ‘The demon hunter’s in the garden! Where the hell are my guards?’

  ‘What on earth are they playing at,’ muttered Motina as the Tutor slowly backed away from the doors.

  He was halfway to Fate’s position when a guard came charging around the side of the house with his sword drawn. Catching sight of the leather-clad demon hunter, the man charged forward, sword swinging as he came, but the Tutor avoided the attack with ease before slamming his elbow into the man’s face. The guard dropped heavi
ly on the grass and lay still.

  Another guard now appeared from the opposite direction while a third burst out of the patio doors. The first of these new guards aimed a downward attack, but the Tutor sidestepped quickly, caught his arm and flipped the guard onto his back before delivering a kick to the man’s jaw. The man’s body slumped, insensible, and the Tutor turned to face the guard who had emerged from the doors. This man was more cautious, attacking the Tutor with controlled thrusts and cuts. Once again the demon hunter evaded the attacks before catching the man’s wrist and pulling him off balance. As the man stumbled forward, the Tutor got behind him, taking him in a grappling hold with one arm clamped around the man’s neck. Holding the man securely, the Tutor stepped back as Lord Medici emerged from the house.

  From her vantage point, Motina could not see the two shimmering patches of air, but she could sense their presence.

  ‘He has protection,’ she breathed as she watched the Tutor back away, the man in his grip slowly becoming weaker as the Tutor constricted the blood vessels in his neck. The guard finally went limp and the Tutor dropped the unconscious body at his feet.

  As Lord Medici continued to advance the two patches of air became visible as they took on human form, and Motina gasped. They were like the desert robed figure that had caught her in the alley, only the silk robes of these nomads were not red. They were black.

  Alonso Medici had employed the protection of a Don’Sha’Vir, which when translated means “the blind that see” but the two figures that guarded the life of Lord Medici were even more powerful. These two lethal assassins were known as the Don’Sha’Mort, ‘the blind that kill’.

  As the two robed figures took on their true form so the Tutor drew his sword and, even from a distance, Motina could see that the crystal in the sword’s pommel had begun to glow. Now Fate stepped out from behind the trees and Lord Medici gave an animal snarl of rage.

  ‘You!’ he cried. ‘But you’re dead!’

  ‘Clearly not,’ said Fate and Motina wondered why he sounded so calm. ‘You and your son tried to kill me and my friends,’ Fate went on. ‘And that is something I cannot allow to pass.’

  Spitting with fury, Medici spoke through clenched teeth.