His best hope would be to get inside without alerting the watchers, but that was nigh impossible in the current situation. Even if he could get to the building’s roof, there was no window he could enter without being seen. There were men scattered around the building on every side, not to mention the one perched on the roof. He had nearly been noticed by that one when he first approached.
“This stinks,” he whispered.
As things stood currently, if he tried to reach the house, he’d either have to accept being apprehended or instigate a bloodbath. For some reason Cyhan came to his mind. What would he do in this situation? “He’d probably walk up the street, casual-as-can-be, and as soon as they approached him he’d start knockin’ ‘em flat,” Chad murmured, chuckling to himself.
He could try the same himself, but the knight seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. The ranger worried about catching a knife in his back. The dragon-bond made him stronger and faster, but it didn’t make him invulnerable.
Once again, he wanted his bow, but this time the thought gave him an idea. Using the chimney to remain hidden from the spotter on the roof across the street, he slowly eased himself to a standing position. Then he worked his fingertips into the dry and crumbling mortar that held the chimney bricks in place. One particular brick was slightly loose, and he used his exceptional strength to pull it free before taking a moment to feel its heft in his hand.
He was an exceptional marksman, but that was a far different thing from being a good thrower. He couldn’t sure of hitting the man on the other roof. But he had other options. Taking aim at the next house down, he threw the brick with everything he had, hoping it would make enough noise to suit his purpose.
Luck was with him. It not only hit the other building, but also struck a shuttered window with such force that it tore through the thin wood and crashed into something within the dwelling. A few seconds later, a man’s voice rose in a cry of alarm and outrage. Chad had planned to use the moment to try a running jump across the street, but this was too good to waste. Instead he crouched down and listened as the angry homeowner came out and began yelling at the people in the street.
The streetsweeper and window cleaner both claimed ignorance, and even more foolishly, were too surprised to even lie properly, saying they had seen no one throw the brick. An argument began, and as the yelling continued a whistle in the distance announced the arrival of the city watch. Chad began to grin as the chaos below grew louder. Another man had emerged from the house beneath him and was loudly taking his neighbor’s side against the strangers claiming innocence.
The watchman arrived and as some of the rogues in hiding began to quietly slink away, he spotted them. More cries of alarm went up, and the guard’s whistle was piercing as he called for help. More whistles sounded in the distance as other watchmen answered. Several more residents came out of their homes, and all hell broke loose when the streetsweeper lost his nerve and took off at a run.
The hidden rogues ran in one direction, the streetsweeper and window cleaner in another, and the residents and watchmen split up to chase them. A minute later and the street was empty.
There was still the other man hidden on the roof, though. Chad tensed for a moment and then began to run before launching himself across the street. He judged the distance well, but the landing was rough, and he crashed onto slate tiles and began to slide. He was only saved from a fall by grabbing onto a stovepipe as he slid past.
Dignity gone, he found the rooftop watcher staring at him in dumbfounded amazement as he got back to his feet and found his balance. The man’s hand reached for the dagger at his waist.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sonny,” the ranger warned. “There are several ways for this to end, but if you pull that blade the only one you’ll see ends in your death.” Leaning forward in a crouch, he slowly advanced up the sloping roof toward the stranger.
The spotter shifted, as though he might run, but Chad held up a hand. “Try to run and you’ll fall, I’ll make sure of it. Just stay still a moment. I’ll see that you get down safely.”
The rogue looked down, and one foot slipped uncertainly on the slate. “What are you going to do?” he asked nervously.
“Let’s get down first,” cautioned Chad, then he pointed to the left. “See that?” As soon as the man’s eyes turned to look, he brought his right hand up in a palm strike that rocked the rogue’s head back. He caught the fellow’s shirt as he fell and landed on top of him, adding a few more well-aimed punches to make sure the man was thoroughly unconscious. Then he rolled him over and draped him carefully over the arch of the roof so he wouldn’t slide down. “Sorry about that,” he muttered. “But it was the only way I could think to keep you quiet without killin’ you.”
After a moment’s thought, he checked the man’s pulse to make sure he hadn’t inadvertently killed him accidentally. His heart was still beating. Wasting no time, Chad eased his way down the roof on the side of the house that faced the river. Once there, he slid over the edge and held on for a second before letting go, dropping to the veranda with a minimum of noise.
A lightweight double door was there to allow entrance to the second floor, but it was locked, as he had assumed it would be at such a late hour. Reaching down into the top of his boot, the ranger pulled out a small, thin-bladed knife, then slipped it between the two door panels, easing it upward to push the latch out of the way. That accomplished, he pulled one door out an inch before pausing to listen.
It was quiet, but not quiet enough to fool his dragon-enhanced hearing. He could hear the short, quick breathing of a woman within the room. He had been spotted, and the woman was terrified. Can’t say that I blame her, he thought. Best not to draw it out and frighten her even more. With that determination, he pulled the door wide and stepped inside. “Don’t worry, I’m not a robber. I’m here to help.”
His world spun out of control as something hard and heavy slammed into the side of his head. Shadows danced and swirled in his vision as he fell to the floor, unable to catch himself with arms that had gone limp. Staring up, he saw a familiar woman holding a large brass vase. He knew her from somewhere, though he couldn’t recall exactly where or when he had seen her.
The woman kept her eyes on him as she spoke to someone he couldn’t see, “Carissa, go to the front door and call for help. Yell as loudly as you can. There should be a watchman somewhere in the vicinity.”
“Wai…” Chad’s words came out half-formed as his eyes struggled to keep the number of women standing over him to a respectable two or three. “I’m helpsher. Na bad. Promish.” He desperately wished he could recall the woman’s name, that would have been tremendously helpful just then. Where had he known her from?
Carissa, that’s Rose’s daughter, so this would be… His thoughts were somehow much clearer than his speech.
The woman standing over him wore a light gown, and though it was dark and her hair was bound up, he got the impression it would be a soft brown color if the lighting were better. “Don’t move!” she warned. “If you even twitch, I’ll make sure you stop moving for good.”
She had called Carissa by name, so it had to be someone who knew Rose personally, probably a close servant or—her lady-in-waiting. “Itsh mee. Chad Grayshun. One of Roshe’s frenshds,” he managed to gasp in an almost intelligible voice.
The woman frowned as she stared down at him, then she yelled, “Carissa, wait! Light a lamp and bring it here!” She raised the vase threateningly when he tried to sit up. “Don’t! Stay still until I can see your face.”
That was when he realized it was much darker than he had thought. With his dragon-bond Chad could see the room clearly in hues of black and grey, but it must have seemed nearly pitch-black to the woman who had tried to dash his brains out. “Chad Grayson,” he repeated, getting his name out clearly this time. “Rose knows me.”
“Quiet,” she commanded.
“Fine,” he mumbled. “I’ll just lay here and bleed.” He rel
axed and lay still, wondering if he was indeed bleeding or not. If he was, it would be messy. Scalp wounds always were. As his eyes wandered the room, things came into focus and he spotted a shadowy figure in the far corner—a man.
The figure wasn’t moving, but as he stared at it, he felt as though the man was staring back, meeting his eyes, though he couldn’t be certain. Who is that? he wondered. Does she know he’s there? His intuition told him she didn’t, but the last thing he wanted to do was alarm his captor. He might not survive another blow to the head like the last one.
Carissa appeared a moment later, carrying a lantern that seemed like the sun to his night-adjusted vision. He caught a blur of movement, but when he looked, the man in the corner was gone. He heard the shadowy figure’s footsteps, though, despite how quietly the fellow had moved. A second later his eyes had adjusted, and he saw that the room was empty, except for Carissa and the other woman.
That took skill, he noted mentally. He knew the technique, though he doubted he could have pulled it off so perfectly. It required cool nerves and a perfect understanding of people’s line of sight and where their eyes would be drawn. The bastard just walked out, easy as you please.
But he hadn’t walked far, or Chad would have heard it. His steps had stopped after he left the room.
“Master Grayson!” exclaimed Carissa as she examined him in the light. “What are you doing here? Oh, Angela, what have you done to him?”
Angela sniffed. “What any self-respecting woman does when a man creeps in like a burglar.” The expression on her face said she recognized him as well. She leaned down to help him up to a sitting position, and Chad felt the world spin around him once more.
“I’ll damn well knock next time,” spat the hunter. “I thought you might be in danger.”
“There was a terrible ruckus in the street not long ago,” said Angela, then after a pause, she added, “Was that you?”
Chad nodded and immediately regretted it as a wave of nausea swept over him. “There were men watching the house. I wanted to get in unseen.” As he spoke, he tried to think of a way to quietly warn the two women that they were being overheard.
“Did Lady Rose send you?” asked Angela anxiously. “Is she here to get her daughter?”
“Is Mother here?” asked Carissa, her voice becoming excited.
They’re saying too much. Chad held a finger up to his lips, then pointed at the door. In a whisper he replied, “Actually, I was looking for her when I came here.” Then he raised his voice to a normal volume. “Her daughter has already returned to Albamarl. I’m here to let you know you don’t have to act as decoys anymore.” He had no idea if the listener would believe it, but it was the best he could come up with.
“That makes no sense,” exclaimed Carissa, but then her eyes went wide with understanding as Chad continued to make shushing gestures while pointing at the door. In a tight voice she continued, “We didn’t expect to hear that news for months.”
Angela was quicker on the uptake. Hefting her vase, she started toward the door while announcing, “That’s good news. I can’t wait to go home.”
Chad caught the hem of her dress and shook his head. With one hand he mimed someone holding a knife. He knew the man at the door was far too skilled. The most likely outcome would be fatal for Rose’s maid. He won’t be caught off-guard like I was, he mused ruefully.
Angela made more gestures, indicating she would stand to one side with the vase ready while he opened the door. Chad shook his head ‘no’ once more. He was in no shape to fight, especially not if the man was as competent with his steel as he suspected. It would be better for them all if the stranger was allowed to sneak of and make his report.
Slowly, he got to his feet, testing his legs. As expected, they were wobbly. His body felt as though it was made of jelly. Angela’s blow had nearly cracked his skull. Even so, he slowly drew his long knives, though he hoped he wouldn’t need them. With any luck the man was already quietly padding away toward…
The bedroom door swung inward, revealing a short, slim man. Chad’s eyes widened as the lantern light revealed the stranger’s face, then they narrowed in disgust.
“I should have known it was you,” intoned the Roach, his voice cold. “I’d heard you became the Blood Count’s lapdog, but I never thought you would someday follow me here.”
“I’d rather eat pig shit than follow your bony ass anywhere,” swore the ranger.
The light flashed on steel as a small blade appeared in the rogue’s hand, but he made no move to threaten them. Instead he polished the metal on his jacket. “You sound like you missed me,” responded the Roach. His eyes flicked to Chad’s face. “From all the blood on your cheek I’d almost think we had already met.” Then he grinned. “Then again, you’re still breathing, so it’s obviously our first meeting today. You’ve fallen far. Now even women and children can whip your sorry ass.”
“At least women are interested in my ass,” Chad shot back. “Only a dog would sniff yours.”
“Who is this?” interrupted Angela.
Something flew across the room, too quick to see, and Chad whipped the quilt from the bed, throwing it in front of Angela. A narrow blade fell to the floor, having gotten tangled in the fabric. “Speak again and I’ll kill you first,” warned the Roach with a crooked smirk. “I only need the girl. You’re just baggage.”
Meanwhile, Chad was regretting his sudden movement as his stomach threatened to empty its contents onto the floor. “Get out,” he hissed from the side of his mouth.
“This is too much cousin.” The rogue chuckled. “There’s no place for her to run. I still have a few men outside. Your little game didn’t uproot all of them. I think you and I will have fun here. You’re already hurt, but you intend to protect the woman too? You’re a fool. You were never a match for me in tight spaces, but now you’ve just handicapped yourself.”
Angela glanced at Carissa on the other side of the room. “When I give the word, run. He can’t catch us both.” And he wants you alive, she added to herself.
Chad knew better. “Don’t.”
“He can’t be that good,” remarked Angela. “No one is.”
Another flash of steel, and this time Chad was unable to react quickly enough. Angela gasped and fell back, a knife handle standing out from her right thigh. She gasped in pain but clenched her teeth rather than scream.
The Roach lifted his hand and mimed tipping his cap to her. “He is that good, and now you understand that you won’t be running any time soon. Why don’t you lie down on the bed and have a good bleed, hmm?”
From the corner of his eye, Chad saw Carissa’s hand reaching slowly into her skirt and he knew Rose well enough to know why. “Let me talk to him, Carissa. I’m the one he’s angry with.”
“You give yourself too much credit, cousin,” said the Roach.
“Let’s negotiate, then,” suggested the ranger.
The rogue laughed. “Why? I have all the cards. Once I kill you and the wench, I can use the girl to control that bitch sorceress. All you need to do is die.”
Bitch sorceress? Chad was confused, but he didn’t let it show. Does he think Rose is a wizard? Or is he talking about someone else? He held his hands out in a gesture of peace. “Fine. Let’s say you kill me. There are other profits you could gain from what I know. There’s no rush for time here. Take a few minutes, and perhaps I can offer you something in exchange for letting Angela go.”
The Roach grinned. “But not the girl? Who is the woman? Is she someone special to you?”
“No,” said the ranger honestly. “But it’s obvious you won’t bargain for Carissa. The maid means nothing to you. There’s no need for her to die.”
The rogue scratched his chin while Angela glared daggers at Chad’s back. After a second the Roach responded, “That is uncharacteristically pragmatic of you. What do you have to offer?”
Chapter 26
Reaching down slowly, Chad patted his vest. “You know what’s
in here, right? Mind if I have a sip?”
The Roach sneered. “Ever the drunken sot. You never change. Still trying to drink yourself to death over that slut?”
The hunter’s face twisted with sudden anger, but he held it in. “There’s enough for both of us if you want.”
The erstwhile assassin shook his head. “No thanks.” Then he glanced at Carissa and pointed at the bed. “Go join your nanny, girl. It’ll be easier to keep an eye on you there.”
Chad carefully drew out his flask and unstopped it before taking a long swallow. He wondered what Cyhan would have done in his situation. It certainly wouldn’t have been drinking. He’d probably kill the bastard like it was child’s play and then say some bullshit about meditation or something, thought Chad. Some of us have to work at it. The liquor began to burn in his stomach, sending a warm glow through his body and causing the nausea to fade. Chad took a second pull from the flask, longer than the first. Damn that’s good.
“What are they calling you these days?” asked the ranger. He was feeling more relaxed, and his brain was beginning to sort through the possibilities.
“The Roach.”
Chad snorted. “Vermin. It suits you perfectly.”
The rogue’s lips tightened. “Because I’m impossible to kill.”
“Is that what Mal’goroth promised you?” asked the hunter. “You know he’s dead now, right?”
The Roach glared hatefully, but spoke with pride, “I was never fool enough to ask for such a thing. Mal’goroth gave me other things. Gifts I still possess, whether he’s gone or not. I was god-touched, something you’d never understand.”
“You were pond scum before you joined the Shaddoth Krys, Oswald, but Mal’goroth really knew what he was doing. He took a glop of slime like you and somehow polished it into a shining turd.” Chad took another lazy swig from his flask, enjoying the rage on his cousin’s face.
Transcendence and Rebellion Page 21
