“What would you like to do?” he inquired when it became clear Shadow would not be winning his argument against himself any time soon.
“What?” the king asked in an annoyed tone, seemingly distracted, though by what the assassin couldn’t tell.
“Should I escort you to this hidden chamber or is there something else you would like me to do?”
Shadow thought hard about that question, leaving Darthek to suffer a long minute of tense silence. “Yes,” he finally said. “Yes, that’ll do. There is a scrying pool in that chamber. It will give me a clear view of the battlefield.”
Darthek squinted. “Doesn’t that involve magic?”
Shadow shook his head. “Very little, and not even my own.” The assassin listened as he helped Shadow dress and put on his armor. “My blade, it is made from a unicorn’s horn. I can use that magic to activate the scrying pool and relay my will through it as a conduit.”
“I see,” the assassin replied, his hands working quickly around the buckles that strapped the king’s leather cuirass in place. “And what is the plan exactly?”
“The general will send the fodder out first. Mimics, ogres, trolls… we have several Abysmal creatures at our disposal. He is to use them to pick off as many of those blasted rebels as they can before their army breaches the walls.”
“And what of the threat inside the walls?” Darthek asked. “Surely, you have thought of that, too.”
A devious grin spread across Darthek’s face. “That is where you come in.” Grabbing his cloak and strapping his sword upon his hip, the king motioned for his assassin to lead the way. “Once I am safe, you will search every nook and cranny of this castle and slay any rodent without a brand that cowers there.”
“You mean your servants?” the assassin asked, a twinge of surprise breaking through his stone countenance.
“Anyone without a brand,” Shadow clarified. “The rahee have just shown me they cannot be trusted with a will of their own, Darthek. We must eliminate the ones who still cling to it.”
* * * * *
Until recently, Darthek had been content to sit back and watch the clash between Patchi and Shadow’s two powerful forces unfold, then pick a side once the direction of this vicious tide was evident.
However, Shadow’s break was clear and far too drastic to ignore. Two days ago, the assassin chose to act. He tucked a note requesting a meeting to exchange information in private into the compartment the re’shahna had shown him, then made his bed to signal that there was something to pick up.
Since then, he had checked to make sure the note was gone, and it was, but no one had sought him out. Whether it was because they suspected a trap or they were unable to comply due to the plan put an army on their doorstep, Darthek couldn’t tell.
So he put into effect a plan of his own. Before he answered Shadow’s summons, he had pocketed the master key he had stolen from the general’s key ring and unlocked the hidden chamber within his office. The request he had imparted to Shadow about retreating to this room had been fabricated, but he doubted the king would figure that out while isolated in his hideout.
The general was too busy preparing for battle to worry about Shadow’s location, and those in the castle simply didn’t care. With his own orders to seek out and assassinate anyone without a brand, Darthek had free reign of the castle.
And, should his plan work, full awareness of where Shadow would be when the time came to put him down.
Now all he needed was to find one of the re’shahna, or perhaps this prince they spoke of. Darthek had no intention of doing the dirty work himself. All he cared about was getting out of this showdown alive.
Luckily, those he sought found him first. As he stepped out of the general’s empty office, the door quickly shut itself. Quite a feat, considering it was made of heavy wood.
Darthek spun around, his trusty daggers already in hand as he back-stepped to put ground between him and whoever had been hiding there. The spy he had previously found in his room now stood in front of him, fully dressed in an old but strikingly well-kept suit of armor.
“It’s you,” he whispered, not knowing or caring what his name was. The re’shahna, his face now painted for war, dipped into a narrow corridor meant for servants. Though he had said nothing, it was clear to Darthek that he expected the assassin to follow.
And follow him the assassin did. The spy moved swiftly and silently, leading Darthek far away from the general’s office. Up they went into the higher levels of the castle that housed the royal wing and nobility’s quarters. However, instead of entering the floor, the spy slipped into one of the small rooms meant for the serving staff.
“You have something for us?” he then inquired, clearly feeling safe here. Darthek wondered how much of the castle staff was on their side for him to think this was a good place to conspire. Even if it were half, he’d be impressed. Shadow’s servants were numerous. “Time is of the essence, Assassin, so please speak quickly.”
“Shadow has been expecting your army,” Darthek replied. “So long as what he said is true, the plan is to send out Abysmal creatures to reduce your numbers and delay intrusion. I am responsible for eliminating any threats in the castle, and I am sure he has many others doing the same in the city. Anyone without a brand is considered dangerous and is likely marked for capture or elimination.”
“He intends to turn against the majority of his city?” the spy shook his head. “Shadow has lost his grip upon all sense. What else can you tell us?”
“That the brands control the people he has marked, but he will likely use it sparingly. The more magic he expends, the worse his condition gets.”
“This we know,” the spy insisted.
“Do you know about the horses, too?”
“We know they have been corrupted, but we do not know how.”
Darthek nodded. “Down below the castle is a large chamber where Shadow has been conducting experiments. He has been using vials of something to change the creatures, though what I’m not sure.”
The spy shook his head. “That will come in handy later on, but we can do nothing with it until after this fight is won. Have you anything we can use now?”
“There is this,” Darthek handed the spy the master key from his pouch. “Shadow has locked himself in the hidden chamber set within the wall of the general’s office. I cannot guarantee he will stay there, but this key fits that door and every other one here in the castle.”
“Intriguing…” the spy inspected the key before testing it on the door behind them. As he listened to the bolt shift in and out, he grinned. “This will do.”
BREACH AND BLOODSHED
Levee steeled herself as the gates of Velagray rose upon the horizon, towering ever higher with each stride of the horse beneath her seat. Milo rode beside her, their flanks warmed by the heat of a dozen night mares trotting excitedly toward battle. Ahead of them were Deley, who sat astride Diego, and Siabra, who trotted faithfully by her side.
It was odd seeing a half-elven lass among unicorns, much less riding Jaspur’s mount. It used to be the prince and his equine companion were inseparable, but now they seemed to play their own roles in battle. Levee wondered if it had to do with Jaspur’s new equine form. He had taken to it rather quickly, changing his fighting style to adapt for this new ability.
“Are you ready?” the Sarrokian asked.
Levee stole a glance at her mate, who seemed nervous in spite of his extensive combat experience. “Having second thoughts?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not too late to demote you to cook.”
Milo chuckled. “Joke would be on y’all. My cookin’ is nothin’ to write home about.”
Levee grinned. “I won’t argue that.”
He elbowed her playfully and she elbowed him back, but the levity died the moment they looked back at their goal. The elven army encircled them, re’shahna interspersed throughout their ranks just as Patchi had promised.
Soon, they would be i
n front of those walls, and there would be no pause before the battle began. Unlike most wars, negotiating a surrender wasn’t an option. Shadow had long since lost his window for mercy. They came upon him now with one objective: to chop off the head of the snake that was Velagray’s king, and they were depending on two individuals to do it.
Levee glanced over her shoulder to where Jaspur marched beside Sadikaye a few rows behind them. They moved on foot because they intended to detach from the main force and slip into the underground tunnels.
Levee didn’t know where that was exactly, only that it was her job to clear a path through the gates. She had gone over the plan with Patchi and Tobiano many times over the last few days as they considered every possible outcome.
Her task would not be easy. She had the small company of night mares at her disposal, but many more resided inside of the city walls. When those enemy mares came down upon their force, Levee would have to stall their charge—at the very least.
Some thought it was a job better suited for Sadikaye, but her son was still too inexperienced to handle such a large force. Even though Levee’s gift was weaker against magical creatures like night mares or unicorns, she still had years of training and experience that made her far more influential than the young prince.
And so it was up to her to make it happen. Deley and the unicorns would remain with the night mares, serving as the spearhead of their charge and reinforcing the buffer between the night mares inside and their allies on foot. Eventually, they would make it to royal grounds and the castle where Shadow resided, but not before the rogue and the prince.
Again, she glanced over her shoulder. This time she caught Jaspur’s attention. The rogue offered a half-smile and nodded, his silent gesture meant to reassure her of his confidence.
Steeling herself, Levee resolved to have that same self-assurance. As they closed the distance between their force and Velagray, a call for archers spanned across their ranks. Ahead, she saw the glimmer of sunlight reflected off of King Mekkai’s sword as he rallied his troops.
A command for archers to take aim echoed over them. Moving as one, the archers near the front lifted their bows and pulled their strings taut. Levee held her breath as they took aim. Brief seconds transpired, then a loud order loosed a flurry of arrows in greeting to the enemy force on the walls.
“Here we go,” Milo unsheathed one of his scimitars, his reins tightened as the horse under his seat snorted with anticipation. “Won’t take ‘em long to break that gate open. Do your thing now, Lev.”
“Right,” Levee outstretched her palm toward the gates while they were still out of range of the enemy’s counter-arrows, focusing her magic on the walls and the city behind them. Closing her eyes, she saw a monochrome world come to life. Beyond the gates was a vague cityscape, its transparent buildings dotted sparsely with various colored flames: the spirits of equines.
Most of those flames had been dulled, their colors muted under the influence of… something. Patchi had warned the horses here had been altered by some sort of potion or curse, though they could not identify what. They feared Shadow might have made them undead, but Levee sensed their awareness just under the surface. They were alive but unconscious, like they existed within a walking coma.
“There are mounts inside, but I’m not sure what is wrong with their minds,” she explained. “They aren’t like the hart. If anything, they’re weaker than our own horses. All they can do is blindly follow commands, but I cannot influence them in this state. We’ll have to deal with the mounted soldiers as they come.”
“Could be worse…” Milo sighed. “What about Shadow’s night mares? See any of ‘em?”
Pressing her lips together, Levee pushed her magical sight deeper into the city until she discovered twenty-five malicious flames shifting excitedly within. “They’re waiting inside the first inner city gate beyond the walls. Twenty-five in all.”
Milo whistled. “More than what we got.”
Levee frowned. “If we can get closer, I can stall them, and even free a few, but I will need someone to buy me time.” Turning to the night mare on her left, she said, “Kalitska, as we break through the front gates, take your night mares straight up the main road to the first inner city gate. Don’t stray too far from our force, but lead the charge and be ready when those doors open.”
So we shall, but remember those are my kin. You promised to free them, not slay them.
“I will do my best,” she promised. Freed from the curse, the Abysmal mares no longer felt a barrier between themselves and Levee. They rallied willingly around her and Milo, snorting with anticipation-fueled smoke. As the first assault ended, the elves began their charge. With shouts of war and galloping hooves rising up in high decibels, Levee flexed her ears back.
Raising up a shout of her own, she galloped forward with Milo, the night mares by her side. Even as mimics scaled down the walls in droves and arrows rained down around them, she did not shy away. Snatching arrows from her own quiver, she shot a few volleys from horseback before leaping her horse nimbly aside to avoid a well-aimed barb meant for her.
Milo’s scimitar soon donned a crimson sheen as he deflected the mimics and their primitive attacks. Their mounts trampled vindictively over the bodies of the Abysmal fodder, their hearts just as eager to win as the rahee that rode them.
As they drew close to Velagray’s entrance, Kalitska and her small herd lengthened their stride, racing like a spearhead straight for the door. The sight of these mares turned against them startled many of the soldiers upon the wall walk. Confusion rose up among them as the mares proved the gate’s fortified wood was no match for the fire and ferocity of their vengeance. It splintered under their hooves, the burning pieces torn from their hinges.
The mares galloped forward, creating a path in their wake that Levee started to follow, but Milo’s voice intercepted her.
“The walls,” he shouted over the commotion unfolding around them. “Those archers are gonna take out a lot of our soldiers it we don’t stop ‘em!”
Nodding, Levee raced through the city’s gates and veered right, galloping up the stairs that led up to the wall walk. Stringing another arrow, she loosed a rapid series of shots that had the archers scrambling for cover. Meanwhile, Milo took to the wall on the left side of the entryway, his scimitars tearing a bloody path toward the first fortified tower.
“Tennakawa ride with you, love,” Levee murmured under her breath. It was all the prayer she could offer, for soon enough the enemy started to regain its bearing.
And in their eyes, Levee was all alone.
* * * * *
Sadikaye glanced up at the wall walk where his mother and father disappeared. Instinctively, he wanted to stop and help them, but the steady flow of soldiers pulled him like the ocean’s current.
“Jaspur!” he cried, nearly frantic.
The rogue turned briefly toward where the young prince was pointing. A flash of fear ran through him, too, but he forced himself to suppress it. Levee and Milo had taken it upon themselves to disrupt the archers. It was a wise move that would ensure far more soldiers made it through the outer gates, but risky nonetheless.
“Stay focused!” he shouted to Sadikaye. As if to reinforce those words, a mimic leapt forward, sword poised for the young prince’s back. The boy ducked and Jaspur swiped Lumiere clean through the creature’s side. It fell to the ground with a sickening thump before an elf stabbed it through the heart with his spear.
“But they’re outnumbered!” Sadikaye protested.
“So are we. Now do us all a favor and put that staff to use!”
The Abysmal creatures came on in droves, stunting the army’s progress. It was like an infestation. They attacked from every angle, biting, slashing, kicking, and stabbing.
Sadikaye elbowed one in the face, his sleeve tearing as it hooked on a snaggletooth sticking out from the creature’s maw. Growling, he spun his bo staff over his head before swinging it in a downward arc that cracked against t
he monster’s neck.
It went down, only to be replaced by two more. The prince jabbed the second one in the stomach with the staff’s tip, then followed through with a low sweep that took the mimic’s legs right out from under him.
Before he could finish his attacker off, an elven shoulder charged forward, punting the mimic sideways into another one of its ugly kin. Sadikaye almost thanked the goddess for his luck until something slammed into his back. He stumbled forward, nearly skewering himself on an ally’s blade.
If it hadn’t been for Jaspur grabbing the strap of his borrowed leather cuirass and yanking him back, that would have been the end of the young Connor prince. No glory, no epic death, just a product of sheer misfortune.
“We need to get off the street,” the rogue grunted. “We’ll get nowhere so long as we’re stuck in the middle of this foray.”
“What about the others?” Sadikaye asked, falling back-to-back with Jaspur as they fended of the steady flow of monsters.
“They’re all around us,” the rogue blocked an oncoming ax with Lumiere, but the sword caught on its misshapen curve. Resisting the mimic’s attempt to yank the weapon free, he kicked the creature in the chest. It went flying into a nearby stack of crates, his pitiful excuse of an ax clattering onto the growing pile of dead bodies at Jaspur’s feet. “Our unit knows their role. When we move, they’ll follow, but you must lead the way.”
“Right,” Sadikaye tried to gain some kind of bearing on where they were. Even standing over six feet in height, the young prince could hardly see over the many fights ensuing around them. Never in his life had he seen such battle, and this was only the first wave. Other than the Velagran Guard posted on the outer wall, all that had attacked them were mimics.
Glancing behind, he noticed the entrance was now pretty far behind them. At least they were moving forward. Ahead, he could see the flaming manes of Kalitska and the other night mares, their fiery hooves carving a path down the main street.
The Rogue Trilogy Page 103
