by C. Greenwood
Betrayal of Thieves
By C. Greenwood
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2012 C. Greenwood
Edited by Eyes for Editing
Formatted by LK E-book Formatting Services
Cover art by Michael Gauss
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Excepting brief review quotes, this book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the copyright holder. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, real events, locations, or organizations is purely coincidental.
A BEGINNING
Tossing in my hammock, I try to ignore the gentle swaying motion of the craft, the sickly shifting sensation of the waves I haven’t yet grown accustomed to. It’s a stormy night on the lake and the winds churn the usually placid waters.
Quietly, so as not to wake my companions, I slip out of my hammock and draw back the tarpaulin over the doorway of our shelter. Cold wind and wet spray hit my face, whipping my hair wildly around me. Lightning forks through the sky, briefly illuminating the roiling clouds and the foamy crests of the waves. In the darkness that follows, I can just make out the shadowy shape of the docks we have drawn up against and the more distant silhouette of the walls of Selbius.
I try not to think of what, or who, lies within those walls. I don’t want to remember where I’ve come from or what I’ve left behind. But, unbidden, a memory forms in my mind. The memory is of a brisk autumn day and a trek down a leaf-strewn forest path...
CHAPTER ONE
It wasn’t a long distance from the part of the forest where Rideon and the other outlaws were encamped to the old hideout of Red Rock. I followed an overgrown deer trail part way and when that faded beneath grass and leaves, trusted my sense of direction to lead me on.
I arrived before midday. Nearing the abandoned spot, I slowed, remembering the Fists would surely have an eye on our old lair. I circled the clearing, cautiously, noting the ground was freshly churned by horse hooves and the marks of many feet. Our enemies had come and gone. Scattered possessions, abandoned by the outlaws, were strewn across the ground. The Fists had been thorough in their ransacking, even burning clothing and provisions, presumably so we couldn’t return later to reclaim them. I briefly sifted through the singed rubble, finding nothing salvageable.
Then I entered the cave. Feeling my way down its darkened passages was disorienting because nothing stood where I remembered it. A row of kegs and a lantern hooked to the rock wall had once marked the entrance to my space behind the falls, but they were gone now. I would have passed the spot by, if not for the roar of the water and the dim glow of daylight filtering through.
It was a relief to discover nothing here had been disturbed by the Fists. I went to my old hiding niche in the wall, dusted away the camouflaging bits of moss and pebbles, and retrieved the leather bundle containing my mother’s brooch. Stuffing the parcel into my jerkin, I also collected the fistful of copper coins I had stashed in the hiding place. These were my only valuable possessions in the world and I breathed a sigh of relief at having them safe in hand again.
I lingered another moment, taking a final look around the quarters that had been my shelter for so many years. Then, turning to leave, I staggered into the silent figure that had crept up behind me.
CHAPTER TWO
“Terrac!” I exclaimed, more shrilly than I intended. I quickly modified my tone to one of disgust. “Have you been standing here spying on me all this time?”
“I have,” he admitted, unabashed. “I looked for you last night but couldn’t find you and again this morning, but no one had any idea where you’d gone. I followed my suspicions and the trail you didn’t bother to cover and both led me here.”
He looked around. “The place is a mess, isn’t it?” he asked.
I frowned, still annoyed at my carelessness. “The Fists didn’t tidy up after themselves, no. If you don’t like it, feel free to leave.”
He didn’t take the hint. “Why are you here anyway?” he asked. “It had better be important. Rideon doesn’t want us creeping around Red Rock, and I don’t think he’ll continue this new habit of letting you slide past his rules. He says the Praetor’s men will be watching this place.”
“Rideon says a great many things,” I said. “But sometimes I need to follow my own promptings.”
Terrac looked closely at me. “That doesn’t sound like you. You’ve always been quick to jump at his every whim, the first to defend each word from his mouth. Don’t tell me you’re finally giving up your misguided loyalties?”
“My misguided loyalties are none of your business,” I said. “I’m just beginning to think a few things out for myself, that’s all. And you can wipe that smirk from your face, because I’m not about to concede you were ever right.”
“I’m not smiling.”
“Oh yes, I forgot you’re too good to gloat,” I said. “Well, never mind. You’ve found me and now you can leave me alone. I’ve decided to go away for a bit to stay with a…” I hesitated to call Hadrian a friend. “An acquaintance in Selbius. I’ll be gone a while, and I don’t want you trailing after me.”
“I’ve no intention of trailing after anybody.” He sounded affronted and slightly hurt. “Aren’t you even curious why I’ve been looking for you?”
“Not especially.”
“I’m leaving too,” he said. “I wanted to tell you farewell.”
I hid my surprise. “Yes, well, save your tender good-byes until you’ve spoken with Rideon. I’ve a hunch he’s not about to let you go anywhere. And we both know you’ll never set foot beyond Dimming without his permission.”
“Really?” Terrac folded his arms stubbornly. “Care to lay any wagers on that?”
“Since when does the pure-hearted priest boy take bets?” I teased, amused despite myself. “You know, you’re getting to be quite the rebel these days. One moment you’re wagering, the next you’re contemplating breaking your oath to Rideon. What would good old Honored Thilstain say about all this?”
He looked a little guilty but didn’t back down. “Never mind my oath,” he said. “Brig’s death has made me rethink a lot of things, including my situation here. I’ve decided to find my way to Whitestone Abbey and the priesthood intended for me. These past few years haven’t changed my destiny, merely delayed it.”
“Well,” I said shortly, “I hope you find peace at your Abbey, slaving over translations and prayers with your broken vow hanging over your head. For myself, I have my own plans, and it’s time I put them into action. Farewell, Terrac.”
He said, “You sound disappointed in me, Ilan. What makes you so concerned with whether I keep my word to Rideon? You yourself once told me honesty meant nothing to thieves and cutthroats.”
“Never mind. Forget it,” I said, unable to explain even to myself why I disapproved. Maybe it was merely his hypocrisy that irked me. Then, too, he was also holding up my progress. I moved to slip around him, but he intercepted me, grabbing my arm.
“I don’t break my oath lightly,” he said. “I’m running as far from Dimming as I can get, but not for the reasons you think. The truth is I’m afraid. Does that surprise you? Probably not. You’ve always thought me a coward anyway and have never been slow to say so.”
His tone turned bitter. “Well, maybe I’m not as brave as Rideon’s loyal hound, but it’s not my life I’m concerned about. Not this time. You want to know what I’m running from? Well, here it is and you can laugh at me if you like.”
Despite his defiant tone, he was suddenly
looking everywhere but at me. “This life—this world you’ve brought me into—it’s changing me, and not for the better. I don’t know what I’ll become if I stay here. I’ve always valued truth and justice; you know that. I’m no Honored One, and maybe I’m not fit to be one, but I’ve still got to hold on to a bit of myself, don’t I? I don’t want to wake up one morning to find myself no different from the rest of you.”
I thought he flattered himself with such a concern and was about to say so when his fingers tightened around my arm, reminding me he wasn’t the weak boy he had been last spring. He seemed unaware his grip was cutting into me as he said, “What happened the other night at the woods holding… You remember how I found you?”
I nodded, reluctantly. It wasn’t a scene I cared to think about.
“I saw you kill that man Resid,” he continued. “I watched from the shadows, while the two of you struggled. It wasn’t fear that held me back from aiding you. I was unwilling to involve myself in the violence, you understand?”
I did. Terrac had always deplored fighting.
“So I hung back,” he resumed. “But suddenly, I saw that man nearly knock you over. I knew he was going to kill you right there, and I felt… Fear. A tide of fear and anger like I’d never known before. I was ready to join you then, although I had nothing to fight with but my bare hands. If I was too late to save you, well, at least I thought I’d find a way to avenge you.”
The only part of his story I found particularly shocking was that he cared enough to avenge me, but I kept the thought to myself. I could see he needed somebody to hear him out.
He went on. “I was about to rush in when, suddenly, you recovered, slashed his throat, and as quick as that, it was all done. The fight was over and I hadn’t even moved.”
His gaze lost its intensity, but he still appeared unable to look at me. “I cannot tell you how horrified I was when I realized what I had been prepared to do. I would have murdered that man or died trying.”
So that was it. I shifted uncomfortably, pointing out, “It wouldn’t technically have been murder. Resid was a traitor who deserved to die.”
“A traitor to you maybe and to your Red Hand, but so far as the law was concerned, he was assisting in apprehending dangerous criminals. So were those other men, the Fists I nearly burned alive in the hold house.”
I didn’t much care for this turn in the conversation. “You can hate yourself over those Fists if you want,” I said roughly. “I don’t know how to keep you from it. But I forbid you to pity Resid. The scum betrayed Brig to his death and tried to kill me. Your only thought was to protect a friend—or to avenge one, as the case may have been. Both were worthy intentions.”
“Worthy for mindless animals like Rideon and the rest of you, maybe,” he said. “But not for me.”
Now he was beginning to sound like himself. “Oh, dust off your grey robes, priest boy,” I said. “You didn’t kill Resid; I did. So feel free to go off to your abbey with a mostly light conscience, and spend the rest of your life brooding over the dark deeds you contemplated but never actually committed.”
His expression cleared. “Then you agree I’m right to go?”
I said dryly, “I agree that you’ll keep me here debating the question until I do agree, so let’s cut the discussion short. Go to your abbey. Go with the blessings of Rideon, the band, and all the province.”
He smiled a little. “Now you’re giving away more than you have the power to grant.”
“I’ll give you the king’s throne if you’ll take yourself out of my way,” I said, shrugging. “I’ve places to be.”
He looked glad to change the subject. “What exactly are your plans?” he asked. “Has it anything to do with this?”
Before I could stop him, he darted a hand into my leather jerkin to snatch the bundle containing the brooch.
“I saw you dig this out of your secret hiding place,” he said smugly.
“Give me that,” I snapped, roughly attempting to wrench it back from him, but he withheld it from my reach.
I said, “That parcel holds the brooch from my mother and it’s important to me. Return it or I’ll pound what little brains you have out your ears.”
Instead of complying, he tucked the parcel into his belt, as if he intended it to stay there permanently. “Tell me why it’s so important you get it back, important enough to risk returning to this place, and I’ll give it back to you.”
I glared. “I told you. I’m leaving the forest and don’t know when I’ll be back. I didn’t want to leave behind anything of value.”
“Except your outlaw friends. And me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I growled.
He said, “Look, what’s the big secret? Why won’t you tell me where you’re going?”
I sighed and gave in. There was no need for secrecy, other than to annoy him, and that strategy was coming back to bite me. “Walk with me as far as the Selbius Road and I’ll share a little of my plans,” I said. “But first, let’s put this place behind us. I don’t think Rideon was wrong when he warned about the possibility of Fists keeping an eye on the area.”
Terrac agreed and together we abandoned the dark reaches of the cave for the bright outdoor sunlight.
We stepped into an ambush. The surrounding clearing was occupied by over a dozen armed men, outfitted in the black and scarlet of the Praetor’s Fists. All stood waiting, weapons drawn.
Terrac and I froze. I had only seconds to take in our situation before a blurry object whizzed past my head, nearly nicking my ear. The Fist archer notched a second arrow to his bowstring and Terrac, framed in the mouth of the cave, tried to shove me back inside. Didn’t he realize we’d be trapped like mice in there? I planted my feet, resisting movement, as my mind raced to form a plan—any plan.
The archer was prevented from loosing the next arrow when a sudden command split the air.
“Hold! I want these mongrels taken alive for questioning.”
The order came from a broad-chested mountain of a man on horseback. Evidently the one in charge, he fixed a cold gaze on Terrac and me and commanded the others to take us up.
As the Fists closed in, I cast my fear aside. Sliding my knives free of their wrist-sheathes and pushing Terrac out of the way, I sent a blade flying to stick in the shoulder of the nearest Fist. Then I broke into a run, grabbing Terrac’s sleeve and hauling him along with me. Together we darted for the nearest trees.
Unfortunately, a handful of men stood between us and our escape. I dodged the first enemy, slipped a knife into the side of the second man moving to intercept me, but was less fortunate with the third, who caught my shoulder as I attempted to dart beneath his arm. Terrac came to my rescue, slamming into the Fist and sending him reeling backward. My friend didn’t stop there but regained his balance and ran on, with me close behind.
Neither of us slowed on reaching the shelter of the trees. I ran as if my heels had wings and Terrac was faster still. A hail of arrows arced through the air, thudding into the ground around us. But the density of the forest worked in our favor, the thick trees shielding us and forcing our mounted enemies to rein in their horses and search for clearer paths.
I had no idea where we were going. My breath soon came in ragged gasps, my heart thudding painfully against my ribs. The ground began to slope, lending momentum to my weary legs. I stumbled repeatedly as the incline grew steeper. A fallen log leapt in front of me and, hurdling it, I lost my footing, crashing and rolling downhill. Brambles and saplings whipped at me as I cartwheeled down before finally slamming into a thick tree trunk.
The force of the collision knocked the breath from me and the treetops swayed dizzyingly overhead as I tried to find the strength to rise. I heard sounds of approaching men and horses and, looking upward, saw our pursuers not far behind. Ignoring the hammering in my skull and the burning of my lungs, I crawled to my knees and staggered on, letting gravity pull me down the incline. When I neared the bottom, a fresh storm of arro
ws whistled by, embedding themselves in the surrounding trees.
I skidded and stumbled on until the ground leveled out and a tall stand of shrubs blocked me momentarily from the view of my enemies. There, as if on signal, my legs gave way and I collapsed to the ground, where I lay panting, cheek pressed into the cool earth. In that condition, it took me a moment to notice the limp arm stretched across my field of vision.
Terrac! He was stretched out facedown and motionless. The rise and fall of his shoulders showed he was breathing, but an arrow protruded from his back and his tunic was stained scarlet. I had time to take in no more than that as I became aware of the sound of many feet crashing through the underbrush above. Urgency lent me the strength to drag Terrac’s limp form into a tall stand of itch leaves and toadsbreath. My bow fell from my shoulder, clattering to the ground, and I dragged it out of sight also, before collapsing beside Terrac and letting the waving greenery close over us.
I flattened myself to the ground, trying to quiet my noisy breathing, as I heard the Fists' arrival. They scattered to search for us, but I knew they wouldn’t have to look long. I glanced at Terrac beside me. His eyes were closed, his face smeared with blood and dirt. Twigs and leaves stuck out of his hair. With his sun-browned skin and ragged clothing, nothing marked him apart from a common woods thief. No one would mistake him for a young priest-in-training anymore. Remembering how his strange, violet eyes had captivated me at our first meeting, I felt the urge to save him now as I had then. But this time I was as helpless as he.
The crack of a stick underfoot betrayed an approaching Fist. This is it, I thought. Time to face death. But there was no question of giving up without a fight. My hand fumbled for my bow. I had no arrows, but it was my only weapon, so I gripped it tightly, wondering at the calm washing over me the moment my fingers closed around the lightwood.
A whisper of movement passed through the air overhead. Unthinkingly, I threw myself to one side, narrowly avoiding the descending blade aimed at my head. I scrambled upright, swinging my bow out to whack my attacker across the knees. The Fist only grinned at my ridiculous maneuver and swung his blade in what would have been a disemboweling sweep, if I hadn’t managed to avoid it. The sharp tip of the steel only licked the skin across my stomach, but I immediately felt the sting of the shallow cut.
