The next morning the companions gathered to break their fast on a meal of sausage, bacon and fried potatoes that Horace had stored in a cold room in the basement of the inn. After so many days of travel rations, it was good to eat actual food again.
“So,” Alivia said, as she chewed her sausage, “what’s the plan?”
“The plan is two-fold,” Dawyn replied, as he took a bite of his bacon. “We will go up to the gates and announce who I am. They will let us in or we will force our way in. Once inside, you and Horace will split off to locate the dungeons and find Eugenie, while Anwyn and I go to meet with the lord and lady. We will attempt to negotiate the unconditional surrender of their titles and lands to the king. If they refuse I will then be forced to deal with them. As for the two of you,” Dawyn pointed with a half-eaten piece of bacon, “once you find Eugenie, you will wait for my signal to leave with her unless you are pressed and must escape. Anwyn and I will be creating a distraction and it should give you time to escape with minimal confrontation.”
“What will your signal be?” Alivia asked.
“It will either be the lord and lady surrendering to the king’s justice, in which case I shall send a messenger down to you, or a lot of fighting. Though I suspect the first option may also result in fighting, since the manor is rumored to be full of assassins. In any case, expect to hear alarm bells and shouts followed by the sound of running feet toward the throne room if they fail to surrender.”
“That seems simple enough,” replied Horace. “Right, Alivia?”
Alivia just rolled her eyes. “Sure, easy as pie. Except you’re forgetting the best-laid plans never go as planned. What if we get into the prison and an ambush awaits us, or one of Lord Garik’s personal assistants, that mage or the shadow-walker, is in with the lord and lady? You are powerful but you can’t defeat every opponent with brute force.”
Dawyn nodded his head in acknowledgment. “That is very true. But what we can do is plan for the unexpected and expect it."
The group packed their supplies and made their way to the stables to collect their horses. Horace had a small gray gelding named Fred. Together they rode toward the manor. It was late morning when they arrived at the gates. The guards did not look like traditional guards of noblemen. They looked like dirty, unkempt scoundrels. It was likely most of the guards that had been loyal to the lord and lady had either been killed or exiled as the assassins’ guild’s influence on the two nobles grew. The fact there were untrained fools at the gate turned into an advantage for the group.
“Halt,” one of the men ordered, as the group approached. “Who are you and what’s your business here?”
“My name is Dawyn Darklance,” Dawyn announced. “I am the commander of the Shadow Watch Guard and right hand of the king of Tar Ebon. My companions and I are here with business to discuss with the Lord Tomas and Lady Igraine.”
The man seemed surprised at first, slowly recovering his wits. “Uh, do they know you are coming?”
“No they do not. Now open these gates or face the fury of the king’s hand.”
The assassin was not very bright and he turned and ordered the gates opened. “Come ahead, my lord,” he said with a stiff, poorly-performed bow.
The group rode through the gates and saddled their horses in the stables. There was a stable boy there, but he was very shy and afraid to come out. It took much coaxing for him to come out of his hiding place in the loft above the stables. He sulked as he took their horses, but brightened when Dawyn gave him three gold marks.
“You’ll see double that, lad, if you take good care of our horses and have them ready for us upon our return. Though you have to promise you won’t tell anyone, not anyone, whose horses these are. Can you promise that?”
The boy, who couldn’t have seen more than fourteen summers, nodded, excited. “Yes sir, you can count on me. I mean, I promise.” The boy gave the best salute he could.
Dawyn returned it with a smile. “Good lad. Thank you.”
Instead of going through the main doors of the manor, the companions went through the servants’ entrance, which was nearest the stables and led into the kitchens. As they opened the door, the aroma of cooking chicken wafted out. Inside, they found several men and women toiling hard to prepare a meal for their lord and lady. There were no guards in here and no one questioned them at all, which Dawyn thought odd, until he realized asking questions in this hostile environment could get a servant killed. Those who remained in the manor had learned to not draw attention.
Exiting the kitchens, they arrived in the actual servants’ quarters, where the cooks and other servants slept. Dawyn had been in the manor two previous times during his time as commander of the Shadow Watch guard, always accompanied by the king and other Guards. Back then, he had memorized every corridor, entrance and exit, including secret passages. Much of that knowledge remained, despite the years. He knew just where to go to exit into the hallway nearest the dungeons.
Coming up on the dungeons, the group stopped. Even now, no one had spoken to them. Servants had scurried by without saying a word, while the few armed men they saw looked intimidated and must have thought they were meant to be there.
“Alright, this is it,” Dawyn began. “Alivia, Horace, this is your stop. When you get down to the bottom of the stairs you turn right and there is the guard table. The door on the other side should have guards as well. I will leave it to the two of you to decide how best to get in without setting off alarms everywhere.”
“Don’t worry,” Alivia said. “We’ve got it under control. We’ll have Eugenie out in no time. You two just worry about Tomas and Igraine.” With that, Alivia and Horace opened the door to the dungeons and began their descent.
Anwyn and Dawyn continued on their way through the manor house, still with no servants willing to ask questions of any visitors. Dawyn suspected Tomas was in the throne room of his manor, perhaps holding court or a gathering of the nefarious individuals with whom they had fallen into bed. Dawyn led the way.
Outside the main hall of the manor, Dawyn and Anwyn were challenged. A gray-haired man was standing there talking to one of the hulking guards. He turned at the sound of feet and offered them a tight smile while performing a cursory bow. The man was careful to bow to everyone it seemed, even if he didn’t know their rank. “How may I help you, good sir?” the man asked. “My name is Malcolm and I am the assistant of Lord Tomas.”
“Hello, Malcolm,” Dawyn said with a nod. “My name is Dawyn Darklance and this is my companion, Anwyn. I am the commander of the Shadow Watch Guard in service to the king of Tar Ebon. I have urgent business that I must discuss the Lord Tomas and Lady Igraine. Are they present?”
The man looked Dawyn up and down and hesitated. Dawyn wore his Shadow Watch garbs underneath his current attire and carried signed credentials from the king of Tar Ebon, but he would not reveal those unless required. “Ah yes, I do believe you look familiar,” Malcolm said. “The lord is engaged in a meeting. If you would wait a moment, I will go and tell him you are here.” That was a polite way of saying he would warn the lord they were there so he could run.
Dawyn should his head. “No, this matter cannot wait. We must enter immediately.” He began to walk forward. The two guards put their hands on their swords, but Malcolm stilled them with a hand.
“If you must insist, follow me. Who can deny the authority of the king, after all?”
A moment later, the doors to Lord Tomas’ main hall opened and Dawyn was greeted by the sight of a gathering of people. Seated at a large table in the center of the room was a variety of men and women, most dressed with cloaks on their backs. At the head of the table, at the far end of the room, sat Lord Tomas. Other men and women stood around the room, though lounged may have been the more appropriate word for what they were doing. Dawyn’s eyes were drawn to one such person in particular.
“Don’t look now, but Favio is here,” Dawyn whispered in Anwyn’s ear.
“Where?” An
wyn asked, looking around.
“Don't let your gaze linger, as we don’t want to blow his cover, but over to the right of Lord Tomas. He is leaning up against one of the pillars. He’s probably getting all sorts of dirty secrets from listening to the lord.”
Dawyn saw Anwyn’s eyes flicker toward the vicinity of Favio and then away to continue scanning the room, making it appear as though she were taking in all of the details.
As Malcolm, Dawyn and Anwyn reached the foot of the table, Malcolm asked that they remain there while he went to speak with his lord. Leaving them without receiving acknowledgment, he walked up to his lord’s chair and whispered to him.
The man at the end of the table was younger, in his younger middle years, with a large stomach from frequent consumption of alcohol. His father, Lord Grant, had died some five years earlier in a hunting accident and Lord Tomas had ascended to power earlier than expected. He had raven black hair, small beady eyes and seemed to wear a perpetual frown. He wore a blue doublet today. At his side sat the Lady Igraine. She was also in her young middle years, with few frown lines on her face. She had dark hair that went below the middle of her back and today she wore a blue dress, which looked as though it matched her husband’s outfit.
Lord Tomas looked up to scrutinize Dawyn and Anwyn as Malcolm spoke in his ear, before finally saying something to his servant and standing up. “Welcome,” he boomed, “Commander Darklance and your, companion, Anwyn. To what do we owe this visit? Is the king himself to be visiting us soon?” At the mention of Dawyn’s title, several of the men and women lounging around stood up straighter and several guests at the table became rigid. All eyes were on Dawyn and Anwyn, as he had wanted it.
“Lord Tomas,” Dawyn said with a bow that went unreturned, “I have been sent here on official business from our lord the king. I have here a written order,” he drew out a sealed envelope that did not contain any such papers, for he had just learned of the treachery, “in which the king demands your immediate resignation as lord of Henry’s Crossing, relinquishment of claim to all of your lands and exile from the kingdom of Tar Ebon. What say you?”
Lord Tomas seemed stunned for a moment, but recovered. “To what do we owe all of these demands? What have I done to receive such treatment from the king I have so faithfully pledged my allegiance to?”
“You have been found guilty of aiding and abetting a dangerous man named Lord Garik, lord of several assassins’ guilds and thieves’ guilds. You have been found guilty of allowing a dangerous creature to roam free in your forests without doing anything effective against it or alerting the king. How do you plead in the face of these accusations?”
Lord Tomas laughed, a big belly laugh that echoed throughout the room. “Why, Commander, I do plead guilty as charged. I have indeed been aiding Lord Garik. In fact, I have sworn my allegiance to him and his cause. As for the creature you speak of, that was a pet of Lord Garik’s mage that I allowed to remain in my forest. It proved useful on oh so many occasions. Such a creature is an easy scapegoat when dissenters disappear in the night. I deny none of what you have charged me with, but I do question your sanity, fool man. Why would you come into my home alone, with your support being a woman dressed almost like a man?”
Dawyn was caught off-guard by the ease at which Lord Tomas confessed. He looked to Lady Igraine, but saw a lack of compassion in her eyes. She supported her husband. Looking around the room, he saw that everyone supported their lord. He had made no error here; he just didn’t expect Dawyn to live to relay his confession to anyone else. Clearing his throat, he said, “I expect you to comply with the king’s orders and surrender your person, your titles and all lands belonging to you and face exile. I have been authorized to remove you from your position as lord of these lands by any means necessary.” He laid a hand on his sword to emphasize his words.
Lord Tomas’ eyes followed the movement of Dawyn’s hand, but he only smirked. “Oh, foolish commander, you could be the greatest swordsman in the world, which I doubt, but you have walked into a den of vipers and you will not leave this place.” Gesturing to all of his guests, Lord Tomas said, “Ladies and gentlemen, please, you have my leave to make this man disappear. I would ask that you leave the pretty girl, though. I would have her as my bedroom servant.” The way Lord Tomas said “servant,” while licking his lips, made Dawyn’s skin crawl. Enough was enough. Justice would be served today.
The assassins seated at the long table began to rise, drawing blades of various sizes. There was some laughter among the crowd as a ring of spectators began to form. The assassins believed it would take a few to kill this man and take this woman. They were in for a rude awakening.
Dawyn glanced over to where he had last seen Favio and found him making his way toward Lord Tomas. Lord Tomas had moved to his throne in the great hall, as if to watch a jousting match. His wife joined him and sat at his side, watching stone-faced as murder was about to be committed in her court. Catching Favio’s eye, Dawyn gave a subtle nod, which Favio returned. An unspoken understanding had been shared between the two - Favio was to stop Lord Tomas from leaving the room at any cost, once Dawyn was done.
Drawing both of his blades, Dawyn awaited the first strikes. At his side, Anwyn had unbundled her quarterstaff and held it in a defensive position. “Stand with your back to mine,” Dawyn said. “Do not present your back to them, that’s what they want you to do. Just hold them off while I take care of the rest, understood?”
Dawyn felt Anwyn nod and, a moment later, she said, “Yes, I understand.”
“Good. Then it’s now time to dance with death.”
Four assassins approached the two companions, a blade in each hand. One was a woman, the other three were men. The first man danced forward and thrust low with his daggers, seeking to strike Dawyn’s leg and pierce the artery. Dawyn, wielding long swords, was not as maneuverable as the man with daggers, but he parried the blow with the lower half of his sword, turning each of the daggers aside and causing the man to lean forward. With the other hand, Dawyn sliced down and drew his blade across the assassin’s exposed back, causing the man to fall to the floor in pain.
The second man approached Anwyn and sneered. He had little respect for women or quarter staves. He darted in with one dagger, which Anwyn knocked aside. But the man proved clever for, while Anwyn knocked away the first dagger, the man was striking in from the side with a second dagger that he had concealed. By the time Anwyn saw the second blade, it was too late to bring her staff around. Anwyn dropped her staff and transformed into a panther, causing the knife to sweep above her head. Not wasting any time, Anwyn leaped forward onto the man, bearing him to the floor, where she ripped out his throat before looking around for the next assailant.
Now, the woman faced off against Dawyn. She wore a veil over the bottom half of her face and, for a moment, Dawyn thought it may be Lord Garik’s veiled personal assassin. Dawyn was disabused of that notion as he disarmed the woman, literally taking off her right arm at the elbow, and then thrusting the blade through her chest. By all accounts, the true veiled assassin would have made the blade pass through her and not have been so easy to kill.
The fourth man saw his fellows dead on the floor, blood pooling everywhere as the panther looked at him. The panther bared its teeth, which were coated in crimson, and began to move toward him. The man held his daggers out to ward off the beast, but the dangerous cat leaped side-to-side, causing the frightened man to slip up and drop one of his daggers. The panther darted in with a paw bearing sharp claws and raked it across his right thigh, causing him to spurt blood and drop the other dagger as he clutched at the wound. The man would die from the wound if healing wasn’t administered soon or bandages weren’t applied, but Anwyn couldn’t afford to have even a wounded assassin at her back. As he was bent over clutching his leg, Anwyn barreled into him and tore out his throat as she had the first assassin. She languished in the feel of the blood between her teeth and the warmth of it as it flowed down her throat, but
soon her humanity took control again and she returned to Dawyn’s side, re-taking human form, dressing and hefting her quarterstaff.
A lull in the fighting had occurred. The hooting and hollering had died out as, one-by-one the assassins died. There was now a sense of caution in the air and the assassins around the room all began to draw their blades. Dawyn prepared himself for a hard battle, setting himself in a balanced fighting stance that was best used with his time dilation ability.
With a crash, the doors to the great hall flew open and three figures walked in. “Sorry we’re late for the party,” Alivia said, her voice being enhanced in a way Dawyn wasn’t familiar with. Behind Alivia was Horace, clutching the hand of a gaunt-looking, dirty woman that must have been Eugenie. So they did it, Dawyn thought. We could use the help.
Raising her hands into the air with a finger pointed toward the ground, Alivia began swirling her fingers around, as if stirring a cup. The air in the room began to move. Cloaks began to billow and hair to blow. Stronger the wind became and candles were extinguished. Alivia gestured with her right hand and a small twister appeared in the center of a group of assassins off to her right. The twister began flinging assassins backward as if they were rag dolls. The twister snagged part of the heavy table, tearing it apart and causing the splinters to become weapons that pierced those assassins caught in it. It became speckled with red as those within were hit with flying debris. With her left hand, Alivia gestured to the left side of the room and a similar twister appeared there, throwing some assassins and catching others up in the cyclone.
A pair of assassins tried to rush the mage, but one of the men was hit by a dagger thrown one-handed by Horace and the other was struck so hard by a strong gust of wind that he flew across the room, slammed into a pillar and dropped limp to the floor.
The tide had turned, with most of the assassins wounded or dead. Turning, Dawyn saw Lord Tomas still sitting in his chair, with a knife in front of his throat. The distinctive face of Favio peaked over the back of the throne and Dawyn smiled. The Lady Igraine was nowhere to be seen, likely fleeing in the confusion.
Wiping his blades on the cloak of a nearby corpse, Dawyn sheathed his swords and strode toward Lord Tomas. He noticed Anwyn making her way to Alivia and the other two. He nodded to Favio and gestured for him to remove the knife from the man’s throat. “So, Lord Tomas,” Dawyn said as he approached. “I bet that confession feels like a bad move after what just happened, doesn’t it?”
The lord glared at Dawyn, though Dawyn sensed a hint of fear beneath the bravado. “Do what you will to me, fool. My master will soon rule this world and, when he does, I shall sit as his lieutenant and it shall be you who bows before me.”
The man was delusional, that had to be it. He must have been driven insane, to believe Lord Garik was going to take over the world. “Your master will not rule this world until my body lays in a grave somewhere, Lord Tomas, meaning I will never bow before you in this life.”
“What are you going to do to me?” Lord Tomas said. “Are you going to kill me? If so, get it over with!”
“No. What I am going to do to you is far worse than the reprieve of death, Lord Tomas. I am going to send you into the deepest, darkest dungeon beneath the city of Tar Ebon and let you reflect on your past crimes. Perhaps a few years in solitary confinement will make you repent and then you can be forgiven. Now, where is your wife?”
“No, please no,” Lord Tomas begged as he learned of his punishment, bringing his hands up as if praying. “Please just kill me.”
Dawyn ignored him and looked to Favio. “Good work, my friend. This whole idea of busting into the great hall would have been for naught if you hadn’t curtailed his plans to flee.”
Favio gave an elegant bow as he stepped around the side of the throne. “I was playing my part, Dawyn. But you can imagine my surprise at seeing you all here. I take it much happened while we have been separated?”
“You could say that,” Dawyn said. “We agreed to find Horace while we planned, decided to rescue Eugenie, learned more about the beast in the woods, ended up killing said beast and then came here after a night of rest.” He shrugged. “But tell me, did you find out the location of Lord Garik?”
“As fortune would have it,” Favio said with a smirk, “I just learned the location of Lord Garik moments before you arrived. He is heading southwest to Mara Damare, a mid-sized coastal port that lies in the foothills of the Windy Mountains within the kingdom of Kelest. Rumor is that he is calling for a large gathering of assassins, from beyond the Windy Mountains and from these lands. Once his ‘troops’ are assembled, he plans to march on Tar Ebon itself and, in his words, ‘make the city run red with blood and darken with shadows’. I don’t know how many men and women he has with him, but I do not believe we can do this alone.”
“We will talk of this later, Favio,” Dawyn said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You have done very well. I suggest you go see to your friend Horace and his wife Eugenie. She has been in captivity for a time now.” Dawyn did not feel comfortable discussing tactics in front of an enemy such as Lord Tomas and, with the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, he wasn’t sure he could think about the matter with a clear head anyway. The fact was they had no reinforcements - they had no one else. If Dawyn requested an army or even a single detachment of soldiers, the chances were good that Lord Garik would find out about it and cancel the meeting or turn any trap into an ambush. No, stealth was on their side for the moment, despite the fiasco here today, and now haste was required to reach Mara Damare in time.
“That is a good suggestion,” Favio said, tipping his hat to Dawyn and walking down the center of the great hall toward the cluster of people that included Anwyn, Alivia, Horace and Eugenie.
Dawyn watched him go before turning back to Lord Tomas and stepping forward, withdrawing a pair of small shackles from his belt pouch. They would be enough to restrain his hands until Dawyn could bring him to the appropriate authorities and ship him back to Tar Ebon. He hauled Lord Tomas up and bound his hands behind his back with the cuffs. Then, he began walking him toward the front of the hall.
“Wait,” a male voice said off to Dawyn’s right. Turning, Dawyn saw Lord Tomas’ head servant, Malcolm, standing there, and he was not alone. Standing in front of the man, with arms tied behind her back, was Lady Igraine.
Dawyn pulled Lord Tomas over to where Malcolm and Lady Igraine stood, looked Malcolm in the eyes, and asked a simple question. “Why?”
Malcolm seemed to understand what Dawyn meant, for he was quiet for a moment before speaking. “All my life I have served this noble family and this city, my lord. I served Lord Tomas’ father before him. But when I saw that Lord Tomas and Lady Igraine had betrayed everything their house had stood for, I was horrified. At first, I couldn’t believe it. I refused to believe it. Even when servants and guards disappeared under mysterious circumstances after criticizing the lord, I still believed them to be accidents or acts committed by a group independent of my lord and lady. But today gave me undeniable confirmation of what my lord and lady, whom I had once loved, had done. They betrayed their people for promises of power and wealth.”
Clearing his throat, the man went on. “So when I saw Lady Igraine fleeing the room when the wind came, I followed her to her chambers where I confronted her. I tied her up and brought her down here, kicking and screaming.” Malcolm looked a bit embarrassed by the revelation that he had roughly-handled Lady Igraine.
“You did well, Malcolm. You showed you are a true patriot to your kingdom and to its citizens. I will ensure you are mentioned in my letter to the king and given a commendation for your valor.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Malcolm said with a bow. “That is more than I could have ever expected.”
“It is no more than you deserve,” Dawyn said as he took the rope binding Lady Igraine from Malcolm and walked the two prisoners toward the front of the great hall.
Chapter 19: A New Direction
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Blood and Shadows Page 19
