Empire's Edge (Path of Light Book 2)

by N. A. Oberheide

  Naurus realized that they were all alone by this well, but his father still motioned for him to come into an alleyway off to the side.

  “Just in case any crazy old cat ladies see us…don’t want them crying to the guards about witchcraft!” Was the answer to the confusion on his face.

  “Now pay attention. Put your right hand in front of you like so.”

  Trevin drew his hand to about his navel and placed it flat, palm down. He slowly started to rotate the whole arm, keeping the palm down and making slow, gentle circles with it. He gently swayed his body side to side complimenting the movement. Naurus coped this, and after several rotations his father switched to doing the same thing with his left hand so thus the son followed too.

  “Good, just like that. Now keep that up, focus on your breathing. Count to four in, count to four out. Switch hands every breath.”

  Naurus settled into the rhythm easily, and soon started feeling much more relaxed as the restless thoughts were replaced by the slow counting and rhythmic movements.

  “You’re a natural at that. You should start feeling a pressure, maybe even a warmth or tension balling up in you.”

  “Yes…I can feel something.”

  The pressure felt much like a gas bubble deep inside, getting to the point of being uncomfortable. He soon stopped, feeling like his abdomen was cramping up.

  “What do you feel now?”

  “Feels like I really have to fart!”

  Gully busted out in a cackling laugh at this.

  “Hey so do I! Excuse me while I go take care o’ business!”

  Gully could not have possibly exerted less effort in removing himself to a more private location as he let his flatulence rip out into the dead of the night, rumbling like thunder through the alley.

  “For the love of holy fuck, Gull. If you do that again I’m gonna rip off your head and shit down your neck!”

  “Gotta catch me first, gramps!”

  “If you don’t shut your cake hole you’re gonna wish you were never born!”

  Gully continued fits of laughter and Trevin rubbed his eyes and temples.

  “Alrighty son, now that our sad excuse for a friend has shat his pants, how are you feeling.”

  Naurus choked on a laugh as well, although the pressure was still there.

  “I feel it, but what now?”

  “Now do this with your hands.”

  Trevin cupped both hands and held them one over the other, palms facing each other as if he was rolling up a ball of dough. He slowly moved his arms in a contra-rotational pattern, just as if he was holding said ball and rolling it around. Naurus followed suit once again.

  “Good, just like that. Keep focusing on your breathing. Now, do you feel anything different?”

  “Yes…it’s like there’s something solid there.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere!”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “Y’all just stay here and stay outta trouble. I need to go stretch my legs.”

  The group hardly acknowledged the statement, but he knew they heard him. He strolled off casually, making his way back to the row of horses outside the jam-packed inn. Quite a commotion could be heard stirring within. As he drew closer, it became apparent that only one voice was the source of the ruckus and it sure was quite a yelling fit from what he could hear. He tried to ignore it and started looking for the familiar horse he saw earlier. He couldn’t find it before the door burst open, slamming against the wall with several people spilling out from within.

  “QUIT FIGHTING BUMS! I’M THE CHAMP, YOU THE CHUMP!”

  Rahlo peeked from behind a horse he ducked behind, to see two men running in his direction.

  “QUIT RUNNING FROM THE CHAMP! I WILL KNOCK YOU OUT!”

  The two men passed him by quick as thieves in the night, the screaming man was as dark as the night, but the nearby lanterns shone off his bald pate like stars in the night. The chase turned the corner as more yelling echoed out, but Rahlo looked around and realized he was all alone again. He finally exhaled and resumed his hunt. It was difficult to make out the exactly colors in the poor light, and he didn’t want a lantern of his own to draw attention to himself. He thought he found his mark, but the horse had no tack to speak of, so surely nobody travelled in on it. He kept searching and the door swung open again. He ducked into an alleyway until he heard their muted voices trail off.

  He peeked out and saw a trio of men walking away, leaving him alone once more. Several of the horses looked more or less roan in the dim light, but he gravitated to the one with the most tack and saddlebags. The bags had a padlock holding them shut, but he was able to stretch the corner flap far enough to just grab hold of the handle of something within. The mare snorted and rocked with unease, but Rahlo finally managed to pull it out of the bag. It was a slender glass bottle, which he took to the nearest street lantern and quickly realized exactly what it was. Dwarven mead, identical to what he found at the campsite not long ago. A chill traveled down his spine, realizing that his quarry may indeed be close at hand, yet this was the wrong place to start a fight with another armed group.

  He quickly set off back to his own group, mead in hand. A small present for his troubles, as it were. The boys were imbibing some booze of their own, singing a song to pass the time.

  “Hey! Shut it, guys!”

  The group started mumbling as they looked at him with disdain.

  “I think he’s here!”

  “You’re shittin’ us. Ain’t no way we caught up this fast!” Hawk spat out in disbelief.

  “Oh you best believe we might’ve. Look what I found.”

  Rahlo tossed the bottle over, and the group crowded around it, all seeming to come to the same realization as they looked back up at Rahlo.

  “That there is the same shit we found at the camp. The same shit you can’t buy, only steal from the dwarves. Know what that means?”

  “Uh…what boss?”

  “Means we need to keep sharp eyes and even sharper ears out. The bandits that almost killed me might well be here. I bet they would recognize me, but none of you. Get it?”

  “Yeah so…let’s get ‘em!”

  Rahlo shook his head and buried his face in his palm.

  “Look guys…we’re stuck in ‘ere for the night. They’re damn well armed, and guess what? So are the constables. I ain’t too keen on getting’ into a massive gunfight around here. Neither do I wanna rot in some shithole jail around here for fightin’. If we take ‘em here, they gotta be alive. Spilled blood means we may never make it out of here.”

  All of them stood up, suddenly raring to go.

  “No no…we aren’t parading around in a big ass group like this. We need to split off in pairs. Well…all y’all anyway. I’m going alone.”

  “But boss, you can’t! What if they jump ya!?”

  “Yeah well…in that case just follow the sounds of the gunshots and get ready for the party once the constabulary arrives too.”

  An uneasy laughter washed over the group.

  “Alright boys split up and fan out. If you see anyone matching the descriptions I gave you, do not engage. Take note of how many are with them, if any. Remember where they were, and immediately get your asses back here. Meet back here y’all run into each other. Clear as mud?”

  “Aye, sir!”

  “Good, roll out!”

  Rahlo directed the groups in the general direction which he wanted them to comb, then split off by himself. He grabbed his hat and put it back on, realizing he could at least partially hide himself that way without a bandana covering his face like a bandit to draw any undue attention to himself. He carefully combed side streets and alleyways, seeing little more than trash, stray animals, and the occasional panhandler shaking a tin can at him.

  One particular alleyway he looked down had multiple people milling around at the opposite end. He ducked behind a pile of firewood and peeked out. He could faintly hear voices echoing down the alleyway. He could only pick out bits
and pieces of what was being said. He kept looking, seeing a third man duck out and quickly return with a lantern. The lantern lit up the alleyway and Rahlo could now clearly make out the men standing next to it. He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “Good, just like that. Look at it in the light, you can see it!”

  It was plain for everyone to see as the hazy, opaque ball of mana was rolled between his hands.

  “Now you see that pile of straw right there? Throw it there, just like a ball.”

  Naurus carefully removed his top hand and tossed the roiling ball into the straw. The mass of mana glided through the air as if it was considerably lighter than it felt and blew a small hole into the straw pile as if someone had punched into it with an invisible fist.

  “Good job! Wanna try again?”

  There was no response though, as Naurus detected a hint of movement in his peripheral vision. He glanced down the alleyway, seeing little of note except a cat curled up on something down the way, silhouetted against the faint glow of a streetlamp. The cat suddenly seemed to disappear, dropping out of view. It didn’t seem to move like a cat either.

  “What are you looking at?”

  Naurus cocked his head and squinted down the alley.

  “Something was just there, dad. Right where that crate is.”

  “I don’t see anything.” Trevin turned back to him, his eye glowing a soft amber.

  “Yes but I thought it was a cat, then it just disappeared behind the thing!”

  “Alright…I’ll go take a look. Stay here you two.”

  Trevin skulked off down the alleyway, a thief in the night comfortably in his element. Gully and Naurus looked on, seeing a shadow stalking down the walls and between the crates and barrels. Suddenly, a shape popped up where he thought he saw the cat. But it was clearly an arm. Trevin could be clearly seen, outlined in front of the arm, vanishing into the shadows as a flash and a bang reverberated down the alleyway. Naurus started down, hardly getting a hand on his revolver before Gully grabbed him by the arm and spun him around.

  “He said stay here!”

  “But he might’ve been shot! Get off!”

  “I’m fine.”

  They both looked over to see Trevin emerge from the shadowy abyss, sweating and panting.

  “That sure as shit wasn’t a cat.” He gulped some more air, looking back over his shoulder. “Someone wasn’t happy to see me. He was hiding behind some bricks, shot and bolted off. I think we were followed here.”

  “Yeah no shit. Why didn’t you kill ‘em?” Gully asked, seeming annoyed.

  “I’m too old to be chasing guys down, and he may have been trying to lure me into an ambush. Come on, we need to get out of here. Snuff that lantern.”

  Gully did just that and tossed it aside with a shattering of glass. Trevin looked back and shook his head, but briskly walked on and they followed. He tried his best to keep to the shadows, checking behind every corner and peeping down every alley and street. Naurus could clearly tell this was taxing and not something his father was in the condition to do on such short notice. His false eye no longer glowed, and Trevin slowed down, gasping for air.

  “Dad it’s okay, we can take a break. I don’t think that guy is coming back.”

  “But that’s where you’re wrong. Firing a shot off…like that. That’s not something a random mugger does. He pointed directly at me…hardly had time to shift back.” Trevin coughed and wiped the sweat off his brow.

  “Where should we go?”

  “Let’s get our horses and try to move out.” Gully spoke up, scanning around them in a cool and calculated manner.

  “Yes…good plan Gull. You’re sometimes smart…sometimes.”

  So they made their way back to the inn. It was noisy as ever with revelry and song. They quickly found their horses and worked to free them as quickly and quietly as possible. Naurus fussed with his roan as usual, who snorted and stamped at the thought of riding once again. Luckily for the mare, its rider was halted in the middle of the untying. Naurus suddenly found himself being pulled back with a leather gloved hand wrapped around his mouth. He thought it might be his father at first, but then the other arm wrapped around his neck and started squeezing. He grabbed the arm and started pulling down, attempting to arch his back as he stumbled backwards. Whoever was behind him suddenly gasped and wheezed, his grip slipping off. Naurus spun around just as the man flopped to the ground. Gully stood over him and pulled his knife out of the man’s back.

  “Sorry ‘bout yer friend.”

  “So funny I forgot to—”

  He couldn’t managed to finish his retort before he was tackled off his blindside and driven into the ground. The jolt suddenly made it apparent that something was very wrong as the arms wrapped around him let go. Naurus rolled off to see a tall and wiry man, with a face hidden by a bandana leap on top of him. The man attempted a choke and was met with a punch that threw his head back. Naurus looked over and saw Gully squaring off with someone else, both circling with their knives drawn. The result of this standoff would not be known as a blow landed on the side of his head and in the momentary stun, the hands were locked back around his neck for another choke.

  Naurus grabbed his assailant’s lapel and pulled down as he bucked his hips upward and arched his back. One hand came off the choke to brace against the ground and Naurus took advantage of this, rolling hard to his left. He didn’t quite make it all the way over before the masked man found himself rolled up against the back of a horse’s leg. It just so happened to be Naurus’s mare, whose mood had further soured in the commotion. Such a travesty as rolling against her leg was unacceptable and was met with a swift kick that sent the assailant airborne before landing with a thump as the assailant wheezed for air. Naurus scrambled to his feet and saw Gully trading swipes with his opponent, neither too keen on making the first big move. A flash and a sharp report rang out from a dark nook behind the two, sending one flopping to the ground. Gully looked over and visibly relaxed, seeing Trevin come out of the darkness. By this time a sizeable crowd had started gathering in the streets and the inn was starting to empty out to see the commotion.

  “Dad! Where were you?!”

  “Long story, now we need to bail! Come on get in the damn saddle!”

  The trio did just that, starting to ride off as alarm bells could be heard ringing all around the town. None of them felt much enjoyment in spurring their horses on to trample though the gaggling drunks in the street, but time was an asset that they were dearly short of. They rode to the nearest gate, which was closed to no one’s surprise. A dozen watchmen were running down the way they came, torches in hand and armed to the teeth. They continued riding up to the gate, hoping to find a sympathetic soul.

  “Halt! Gate’s closed for the night! Return from whence you came, an alarm has been raised and you shouldn’t be out and about!”

  The gatekeeper’s sentence was punctuated by the sounds of distant gunshots breaking out. Trevin dismounted his horse, walking up to the gatekeeper with obvious displeasure.

  “Sir, please return home!”

  Instead of a response, his command was met with a revolver jammed into his forehead.

  “I’m not going to ask again. Open it, or I’ll be opening it for you!”

  A gunshot from next to Naurus startled him, and he looked over to see a watchman rolling on the ground, clutching his shoulder in agony. Gully cocked the hammer again and looked back at Trevin.

  “I had to! Now get on out! Shoot ‘im if ya have to!”

  This momentary distraction allowed the gatekeeper to retreat back to the barbican, which then started to empty out several seconds later. Several watchmen were filing out the door before Gully shot again, then started the fanning the hammer at them, forcing them to duck back inside or sprawl into a nearby alleyway.

  “Fuck! Cover me while I get this damn thing open!” Trevin yelled back as he faded into a hazy mist, melting into the shadows.
Naurus tried to figure out where he went, but a crossbow bolt whizzed past his head. He snapped back to and pulled his rifle from its saddlebag. The muzzle flash lit up the night as the wooden guardhouse splintered, forcing the occupants to retreat from the doorway. He poured every shot he had into it, only stopping when the hammer fell on an empty chamber.

  “Gully I need to reload…cover—”

  The sentence didn’t need to be finished. Gully stepped up to the challenge and already had his other revolver in hand, popping it off at anyone who had tried to poke their head out. Naurus looked behind him and realized that several watchmen were creeping up the street, closing the distance fast and keeping to walls and cover to conceal their movements.

  “Behind us! We need to go!”

  Gully craned his neck and grimaced, seeing exactly what was happening as well. Naurus struggled to jam the cartridges into the loading gate with his shaky hands and ragged breathing. He looked back over and saw the gate slowly but surely creaking open. A welcomed sight, but the timing couldn’t be more precarious. Naurus fumbled and dropped his last cartridge, but couldn’t waste any more time and spun around, levelling his rifle and firing at the first man that moved towards them. At least a dozen men could be seen ducking into cover simultaneously. He saw a flash, and a bullet crackled past him. He ducked as his horse reared up and bucked around in fright as more bullets whistled past.

  “What are you doing?! Come on!” The hoarse and labored yelling of his father turned his attention the other way.

  Naurus spurred his horse towards the gate, but the mare simply bucked in its general direction. He yanked the reins and tried again, finally getting the horse to awkwardly trot almost sideways. Gully and Trevin had already made it out by this point. Bullets and bolts started to slam into the wooden gate and showered him with splinters as he finally managed to slip out into the night. He frantically scanned the darkness, finally seeing the glowing amber orb like a lighthouse, guiding him to the thicket of willows where the rest of them were hiding.