The Sunken Tower: The Dragonspire Chronicles Book 5

by James E. Wisher

  “What do you think of your chances now?” Yaz asked.

  Dohrmann paled slightly. He’d seen what the riders could do and knew they were formidable even unarmed. His guards’ weapons might almost make it a fair fight.

  “We want nothing of yours,” Yaz said. “Let us walk out of here and no one else needs to get hurt.”

  “You’re mistaken, boy. I’ll never live it down if I let you go. People will think they can take advantage of me. Soon as that happens, I’m finished. Kill them!”

  The guards surged forward, swords raised. The dragonriders roared and charged.

  Battle was joined. The roar and crash of the melee was incredible. A guard went flying only to end up crashing through a table.

  One of the riders went to the ground. His opponent raised his sword to finish him.

  Yaz grabbed a wine bottle off a nearby table and hurled it as hard as he could. It hit the guard dead in the face and exploded into shards. The guard screamed with pieces of glass jutting from his face and eyes. The scream was quickly cut off when Burke snapped his neck and took his weapon.

  Dohrmann’s guards were now the ones backing up. Two of the riders were bleeding from shallow cuts, but none of them had died. The guests seemed to have had enough. As a group they broke and ran for it. Dohrmann tried to join them but Yaz threw a second bottle, taking him in the back of the head. He went down face first.

  “Do you smell that?” Brigid asked.

  Now that he had a moment to think Yaz did smell something. Something burning.

  A lantern had fallen from its place on the wall and now the curtains were going up. It was time to go.

  “Anyone that doesn’t want to burn to death had best make themselves scarce!” Yaz shouted over the din of battle.

  The guards broke and ran towards the front door. Hopefully, they’d keep running. But if they didn’t, maybe Silas would have a surprise for them.

  Silas paced in his new room and worried. Who knew what sort of trouble Yaz and Brigid would get into without him. It still seemed incredibly strange to be worrying about anyone but himself. Still, those two had become dear to him, the first friends he’d had in a long time. If anything happened to them…

  Best not to think like that. They’d been through a lot and come through it alive if not unscathed. This time would be the same. He looked out the window again. Still all was calm at the mansion. Next, he turned his attention to his prisoners. They were bound, gagged, and blindfolded. He couldn’t tell if they were awake or still unconscious. His guess was still unconscious since neither had tried to escape their bonds.

  Wicked flew down and rubbed his cheek. The cold bone felt good though not as good as the smooth scales that had once covered him did.

  “Thanks, pal.”

  He’d never been the patient sort, much to his former master’s chagrin. How many times had the old man told him to slow down and watch what he was doing? He’d long since stopped trying to keep track. Maybe once all this craziness was sorted out, he’d sneak back to see him. It would be risky to go back to the baron’s land, but if he was careful it should be okay. It wasn’t like the man could watch every road.

  Someone knocked on the door, jarring him back to reality. “What is it?” he asked, trying to pitch his voice to sound like the unconscious Charles.

  “I’m just checking to make sure everything is alright.”

  “Go away, I’m trying to rest.”

  “I brought up some soup. I thought it might help your recovery.”

  “Just leave it in the hall. If I get hungry later, I’ll come get it.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Silas shook his head. These two must be excellent tippers to get someone to fuss over them like this. After ten minutes of waiting and nothing happening, he went to the door. A snack might be nice. He didn’t know how long he might have to sit around after all.

  He listened but heard nothing out in the hall. Silas eased the bolt open and reached for the handle. Before he could touch it the door slammed open into him.

  Silas staggered back. When he caught his balance, he found himself staring at the tip of a hand crossbow bolt. The figure holding the crossbow wore black leather armor, a camouflage cloak, and leather. It was also, judging by the shape of the breast plate, a woman.

  “I see so much as a spark and you’re dead, wizard,” she said.

  “Bodyguard?” Silas asked.

  “Bounty hunter. I nearly had you in Port Steel, but your friends showed up before I could make my move. I mean to collect the baron’s bounty. He only wants you breathing. That means I can break as many bones as I need to in order to keep you under control. It would be best if you don’t give me a reason to.”

  “Fine, I know the drill. You’re not the first person to capture me.”

  “Where’s that little skull of yours? It needs to go in a sack. No way am I leaving it free to spring you later.”

  So she knew about Wicked. The woman had done her research.

  “Wicked, come out,” Silas said.

  It flew out from under the bed and hovered at Silas’s shoulder.

  “Take that pouch off your belt, slowly, and order it inside.”

  Silas complied, pulling the drawstring shut once Wicked was inside. Yaz and Brigid could free her later and Wicked would lead them right to him.

  “Set it on the floor and push it over here.”

  Unless the bounty hunter took Wicked with them. That would really screw things up.

  He did as she said. It would be harder to escape later if he was wounded.

  She stopped the pouch with her foot and before he could say anything brought her heel down hard. Wicked shattered with a sickening crunch.

  Silas’s heart nearly stopped. He stared at the bounty hunter. “I’m going to kill you for that.”

  “Sure you are. Turn around. Hands behind you.”

  He turned slowly, silently cursing that his magic took so long to gather. If he could just build up a charge without her noticing.

  Out the window he saw the first flickering of a fire in one of the mansion’s rooms. The breakout must have started. Bloody bounty hunter!

  “I have to help my friends.”

  “Your friends don’t concern me.” She snapped manacles on his wrists. “Let’s go.”

  Silas staggered when she shoved him towards the door. He gave one last look at the now-burning mansion. They were in trouble, he knew it, and there was nothing he could do.

  Chapter 11

  After the guards finally broke and ran, the dragonriders took a moment to arm themselves and find what clothes fit. There wasn’t much given their size. While they rummaged, Yaz and Brigid went to one of the windows overlooking the front yard. The guards had regrouped outside and formed a shield wall of sorts though without the shields. He watched for half a minute, expecting lightning bolts or dark magic to fall on them at any moment.

  Yaz coughed as the smoke thickened. Where the hell was Silas? If ever there was a moment they could use some magical distraction, this was it.

  “Do you think something happened?” Brigid asked.

  “Must have, but I can’t imagine what. We left that rich couple trussed up like holiday pigs. No way they got loose and jumped him. I can’t see the servant getting the better of him either.”

  “What are we going to do?” Brigid asked.

  “First we’re going to get out of here before we suffocate. Once everyone’s safe we’ll check on Silas. Hopefully it’s nothing serious.”

  “Yeah.” Brigid didn’t sound like she believed a word of it. Yaz didn’t either for that matter.

  “Yaz?” Calvin said.

  He turned to find Calvin and the other dragonriders dressed and armed as best they could be under the circumstances. There was nothing more to be learned outside, so he moved to join them in the center of the room.

  “How is everyone?” Yaz asked.

  “A few scratches but we’ll be fine.” Calvin had taken one of the
tablecloths, cut a slit in it, and was using it like a poncho. “We need to make our move before the mansion is fully engulfed.”

  “The remaining guards are waiting just outside the front doors. I suggest dividing your forces and hitting them from the front and side at the same time.” Yaz pointed down a hall to the north. “There’s a side entrance that way.”

  “We don’t need your suggestions,” Burke said. “Leave the fighting to real men.”

  “Shut it, Burke,” Calvin said. “If it wasn’t for Yaz, we’d still be in cages fighting like animals for our food. What’s your plan, young lord?”

  “Brigid and I will take Burke and two others around to the side entrance. Give us two minutes to get in position then attack the guards’ formation. Once you’re engaged, we’ll hit their flank. There are fifteen of them out there, but at least they don’t have spears.”

  “Fifteen?” Burke said. “There were only eight still standing when they fled.”

  “They must have had friends outside. See for yourself if you think you can count that high.”

  Burke took a step toward Yaz.

  “Enough!” Calvin said. “Burke, go with Yaz and his lady friend to the flanking position. Take Keets and Grim. I’ll be counting on you to hit them hard when the moment is right.”

  “Understood, sir.” Burke glared one last time at Yaz then started down the hall he pointed out with the other squires beside him.

  Yaz sighed as he and Brigid followed.

  “He really doesn’t like you,” Brigid said.

  “It’s mutual. The problem is, Burke’s the best fighter in the village after our respective fathers. If there was still a village, he would have ended up as leader of the riders one day. Now, I have no idea what’s going to happen and neither does he. I doubt that’s doing anything for his mood.”

  “He could have at least thanked you,” Brigid said.

  “The day Burke Hendal thanks me for anything I’ll probably faint on the spot.”

  Ahead of them the squires had the side door open and were slipping out one after another. They had about a minute before Calvin attacked. They snuck along under the eaves to avoid the heavy snow just beyond. When they reached the front of the mansion Burke poked his head around then quickly pulled it back.

  “I count twenty now,” Burke said. “No bows at least. When the fighting starts, you two stay out of the way. We’ll be too busy fighting to protect you.”

  Yaz offered a mocking salute with his dagger. Arrogant prick.

  Further insults were cut short when a roar from out front went up followed a moment later by the clash of steel on steel.

  “Let’s go, boys,” Burke said.

  “It’s too soon,” Yaz said. “If the guards see you coming you won’t take them by surprise. Let them fully engage.”

  “Those are our comrades out there fighting for their lives.” Burke’s knuckles were white on the hilt of his sword. “Damned if we’re going to wait.”

  Burke charged and the other squires followed.

  Yaz shook his head and moved to look around the corner of the mansion. Four guards had already shifted to intercept Burke, leaving the bulk of their force to focus on the others.

  Burke and the other squires hit the guards like a battering ram, forcing them back three steps. They bent but didn’t break.

  The squires hammered at the guards who defended flawlessly.

  Every strike was met with a block but no counter.

  The guards offered no openings.

  Ever second Burke was held up gave the enemy more time to strike down Calvin’s group. So far the veteran dragonriders were holding their own, but outnumbered more than three to one they wouldn’t last long.

  “Bloody idiot,” Yaz muttered.

  “What are we going to do?” Brigid asked.

  That was a good question and he wished he had an equally good answer. Yaz frantically looked for anything he could use to turn the tide. A few seconds later he found it. Dorhmann was standing well behind his men watching the battle. If he could get to the boss, the fight was over.

  “I’m going for Dorhmann.”

  “I’m coming too,” Brigid said.

  “You don’t even have a weapon.”

  “I’m coming!”

  He didn’t have time to argue. Yaz slipped away from the house, making a wide circle through the snow. Gods he was glad he had his heavy boots. He was equally glad the sun had set. Away from the lights of the mansion, they would be virtually invisible.

  The reached a spot directly across from the target without anyone raising the alarm. Looked like all the guards were in the fight. Good.

  “Watch my back. I’m going to try and sneak up on him. I don’t want anyone doing the same to me.”

  Brigid gave him a thumbs up and Yaz set out. He left the grounds and stepped onto the cobblestones. Dorhmann was fully engrossed in the fight.

  Yaz ducked behind a carriage that had been left behind and snuck around the back. He looked out between the wheel spokes.

  Dorhmann was only ten feet away.

  Yaz took a deep breath and lunged out.

  Three long strides brought him to Dorhmann’s side. He jammed the tip of his dagger into the man’s ribs half an inch deep.

  Dorhmann howled.

  “Now that I have your attention,” Yaz said. “Call off your men. Now.”

  He gave the dagger a little twist to remove any doubts of his seriousness.

  “I’d rather die.”

  Yaz pushed another half inch of steel in. “I can arrange that. The question is, how slowly do you want to do it?”

  He gouged the blade back drawing another howl.

  “Call them off or I’ll gut you like a deer and leave you to die in a pile of your own shit.”

  “Stop fighting!” Dorhmann shouted. “Fall back now.”

  The guards disengaged and took two steps back from the riders.

  “Good.” Yaz raised his voice. “Calvin, would you disarm them please?”

  The riders quickly took the guards’ weapons and bashed them each on the head until everyone was lying on the ground unconscious or dead.

  “I did what you wanted,” Dorhmann said. “Let me go.”

  “Not yet. You’re too valuable a hostage.”

  The riders gathered around Yaz. Before anyone could say anything, Calvin slugged Burke on the jaw.

  “Idiot! You were supposed to wait until the guards were fully engaged with us. If not for Yaz, we’d all be dead now. As it is your stupidity got three riders hurt.”

  Burke rubbed his jaw but wisely remained silent.

  “Thanks, Yaz,” Calvin said. “We’d best get out of here before the fire brigade arrives.”

  Yaz nodded. “Take Dorhmann. The guards are bound to know him. If you have any trouble you can use him as a hostage. We need to find our friend.”

  “Burke, take this fat fool off the young lord’s hands. Try doing something right for a change. Load him in that spare carriage. We’ll use it to get out of here.”

  Burke took control of Dorhmann and he and the rest of the riders piled into the carriage.

  “What do you say we meet up in the village?” Calvin said.

  “Sure, just be careful. The dragons are loose and probably hungry. Before you go, can you tell me what happened to my father?”

  “He was with us for a while before the auction, but two men in green robes showed up and demanded him. They said he had to pay for his crimes against dragonkind. He was wearing a gold amulet with three dragon heads engraved on it if that helps any.”

  “It does, thanks Calvin.” They grasped wrists again. “Be careful on your journey south.”

  “You too, Yaz.” Calvin climbed up on the driver’s seat, cracked a whip, and they were off.

  “The Scaled Society has my father,” Yaz said. “First we check on Silas, then we track them down.”

  “Where do we start looking?” Brigid asked.

  That was a fine question. Hop
efully he’d have an answer by the time they got back to the inn.

  Yaz watched until the coach was out of sight. Hopefully the dragonriders would make it back to the village in one piece. As soon as they were gone, he and Brigid ran across the street to the Golden Goose.

  “What do you think could have happened?” Brigid asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  Yaz pushed through the door and stalked across the crowded dining room. The rich and well-dressed patrons stared as he passed, but Yaz ignored them all. He had only one thing on his mind and it wasn’t the curiosity of these fops. At least no one tried to stop him. Given his mood, it would have been a fatal mistake for somebody.

  He took the stairs to the second floor two at a time and at the top slammed the door to their borrowed room open. The prisoners were still bound and gagged. There was no sign of Silas or of a struggle. Or maybe he should say more of a struggle.

  “What’s that pouch?” Brigid asked. “It wasn’t here when we left.”

  Yaz frowned and knelt beside it. With the tip of his dagger he eased the sack open. Please don’t let it be Silas’s hand or something. It wasn’t his hand, thank the gods. Instead he found a bunch of bone shards.

  “Oh, no,” Yaz muttered.

  Brigid knelt beside him. “Is that Wicked?”

  “I think so. Someone must have grabbed Silas and smashed his familiar so she couldn’t rescue him. Silas is going to be furious. You know how fond he was of Wicked.”

  Yaz reached for the pouch. The least he could do was give the little undead a proper burial. His fingers were only inches from it when a black spark leapt off the bone.

  He jerked his hand back. One by one the shards flew up and out of the pouch. Like a puzzle, Wicked put herself back together. It took about a minute, but when the process was finished, Wicked looked as good as new, as long as you ignored the new scars where she had been shattered.

  Yaz and Brigid shared a look. Maybe it shouldn’t have been a surprise that the familiar survived. You couldn’t kill something that was already dead.

  “Can you lead us to Silas?” Yaz asked.