Elf Lords: 01 - Pearls of the Elf Lords

by Richard Saunders

  He remembered watching in surprise as the serving girl had leaned forward after he had pulled the trigger on the crossbow he had been using that night. The arrow should have struck Petra between her firm breasts. Instead it found its way into the back of the innocent young girl. Diabolis regretted the mistake, not because of the death of the servant. No, he regretted it because the accident had cost him dearly in both time and money; not to mention in reputation. People do not pay to have the wrong person murdered. He was thankful that he had sources trained in the use of carrier pigeons and other resources that could find information for him. Keeping track of Petra’s movements had proved difficult, but his informants were highly skilled at gathering intelligence. And Diabolis was fortunate to have one high placed contact with a professional interest in seeing to it that the assassin had whatever he needed to complete this task. The very person who had contracted him to murder the Princess had sent him word early that morning of Petra’s current plans to travel from Chio to Listol via the Smuggler’s Road. Thankfully, he was close enough to change directions and arrive at the monastery ahead of the princess.

  They had arrived earlier this same day and he had his assistant obtain accommodations for a few days under the pretence that he was sick and in need of rest and a place to stay out of the growing colder weather. As night fell Diabolis had consigned himself to spending at least one night waiting, which would not be a bad thing as it would give him more time to scout the monastery. When he heard the commotion outside he knew at once that it signaled the arrival of Petra. Who else would possibly arrive being chased by orcs? A quick contact with the novice monks assured him of the number of those who had arrived and the description of the pretty blonde woman traveling with them.

  Diabolis fought back anger as he thought of Landis sleeping in the same room as Petra. It did not take much for the assassin to imagine what that meant. From what he had learned, it had been considerably less than two weeks since the death of Jandelie and the half-elf had already moved on. Diabolis felt a sharp pang in his heart at the thought of Jandelie dying at the hands of Landis. He remembered her soft touch and the many nights of pleasure he had shared with her. He was reminded of the friendship he had once shared with Landis as they traveled with Jandelie. She was the only woman that Diabolis had ever really cared for, and he had been forced to share her Landis. That eventually became too much to bear and caused the end of their friendship. He had succeeded in winning Jandelie away from Landis at first. But she eventually tired of him and fled in the dark of night. He later learned that she had returned to Landis and he swore that if he ever met up with the half-elf again that he would pay him back for the loss of Jandelie. He eventually put those feelings aside, especially after learning that the two had separated. He had not heard anything about either of them for a few years now, until after agreeing to assassinate Princess Petra. He was still in hiding in Birhirm when the half-elf arrived with Prince Eric. It did not take long to learn that they had been traveling on some adventure to the dead city of Sedau and that Jandelie had been traveling with Landis. Diabolis sought more information in hopes of trying to find a way to contact his former lover. All he succeeded in learning was the distressing news that Landis had—for supposedly merciful reasons—killed Jandelie while on their journey.

  Diabolis presumed that he had known Landis well enough to believe that the so-called mercy killing rumor was probably true. But he felt that had Landis never stolen Jandelie away from him in the first place that she would be with Diabolis instead of dead. And for that Landis had to die.

  Samuel sat on the floor with his back against the wall resting in the dark until Diabolis deemed the time was right for them to leave. Waiting was second nature to someone in this profession. One would often have to wait for hours on end for the opportunity to spring into action, and tonight was no different. The young assassin was happy that this wait was inside a warm dry room as opposed to out doors. Time crept by and at long last Diabolis thought that the moment was right. “Take your sword and wait by that door,” Diabolis said, motioning to where the door to Trevor Kahn and Eric’s room was located on the opposite side of the hall. “If anyone opens the door slay them immediately and run in and kill the other. You cannot give them time to give warning.”

  “Understood.” Samuel said as he stood up and stretched his legs, readying himself for action. Diabolis used his mirror to check under the door one final time before standing and slipping the mirror into his vest pocket beneath his stolen robe. He felt the dagger at his side then checked the two miniature crossbows, making sure that they were still ready for action. Holding one in each, hand he motioned for Samuel to open the door. The younger assassin held the door for Diabolis to leave the room before slowly closing it behind them. Then he crept over to stand beside Trevor and Eric’s room. He leaned with his back to the wall beside the door, holding his sword ready with both hands. Diabolis walked softly down the hall to the next door. He listened carefully for any sound coming from inside the room then knelt down, sitting the right crossbow onto the floor as he pulled out his mirror, sticking it under the door to see inside the room. He could see nothing due to the darkness in the room. Even so, the fact that he did not see Landis’ feet at the door meant that the doorway was probably unblocked. He replaced the mirror and stood, tucking the right crossbow between his left arm and body as he slowly reached for the door handle. He was ready to jump into action as he cautiously released the latch. He let go of the latch, grabbed the crossbow and shoved his shoulder into the door throwing it open as he rushed into the room.

  Diabolis spotted the smaller form of the bundled up princess lying face down on the farthest bed, her blond hair clearly visible in the darkness. He raised his right arm and squeezed the trigger, launching the arrow at the princess. He saw the bolt strike just below the base of the neck and sink through the body, too far.

  Landis sprung up from behind the other bed, holding his bow and arrow ready. Both men were now facing each other aiming deadly arrows at the other. “Drop it.” Landis said to the assassin.

  Diabolis looked into the half-elf’s face. He did not have to turn his head to know the truth: it was not Petra who he had shot. The arrow went completely through without resistance, and there had been no sound other than the snapping of the crossbow and the thunk of the arrow hitting the bedding. Even if he had not seen that little bit, the look in Landis’ eyes told him that he had fired his arrow into a decoy. The hair was no doubt a makeshift wig over a small pillow disguised to look like the back of the girl’s head. He had failed to kill the Princess. But he could still kill Landis. “One word and your companions in the next room will be murdered.” Diabolis bluffed.

  “Oh, they probably know you are here by now.” Landis said.

  Diabolis knew that he should squeeze the trigger and kill Landis. Even with the crossbow held in his left hand he was an accurate marksman. Every bit of his training told him that it was foolish to stand there and talk. But he assumed that he still had time to act. The two men stood in the darkness with only the little light coming from the gap in the doorway enabling Diabolis to see. He could clearly make out Landis before him, though he knew that the elf could see him better thanks to his night-vision. “You cannot kill me and survive,” Diabolis warned as he backed up a step. “You may kill me but my crossbow will strike you first. And it is poisoned with a poison that these monks cannot cure. You will die no matter where I strike you, but I may survive your arrow.”

  “Drop your crossbow and tell me who hired you to kill Petra and I will let you live.” Landis said coldly.

  “You know that I cannot do that, Landis.” He tried to scan the room without taking his eyes off of his enemy. Petra had to be hiding somewhere, perhaps under the bed. He had watched her enter the room. If he could locate her then perhaps he could still use the crossbow on her instead of Landis. He would die, but he would have succeeded in his initial goal, and Landis would have lost Petra.

  “I did
not think you would talk,” Landis said, “but there is one thing I would like to tell you that you probably did not know. Elves are immune from Kula Root Poison.”

  What does that mean? Diabolis wondered.

  Landis dropped to the floor behind the bed. Diabolis squeezed the trigger in response, sending the arrow flying harmlessly against the stone wall where it bounced back onto the floor in front of the bed. At the same time that he shot the arrow Diabolis caught movement coming from the darkest corner of the room. He would have sworn that no one was there when he glanced in that direction. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, then another one a few inches away. Diabolis staggered back against the wall. He looked down to see two throwing knives piercing his chest. Only then did he see Jaylen standing across the room from him. Diabolis slid down the wall, coming to a rest on the floor. He had been outwitted by Landis once again. It all became clear to him how he had watched the charade that led to his death. Jaylen was not lying in the infirmary recovering from the effects of Kula Root Poison. Landis was right: elves were immune to that particular poison. He should have remembered that. Jaylen had been one of the two hooded monks who brought the tea to the room. Once inside Trevor covered the entrance while Jaylen took off his robe and put it onto Petra. Diabolis had watched as Petra and a monk walked past the room he was hiding in after changing places with Jaylen, who could easily hide in the darkness to await Diabolis’ attack. Landis had known he was here all along, and his failure to realize the half-elf’s scheme had cost him his life.

  “Trevor!” Jaylen yelled as he limped to the door flinging it opened.

  Samuel was caught off guard by the sight of the elf exiting the room. He started to run as Trevor opened the door to confront him. He made only a few steps before one of Jaylen’s knives caught him in the base of the neck sending his lifeless body tumbling to the floor.

  “Are you alright?” Landis asked his father as he came out of the room behind him.

  Jaylen leaned against the wall. His right leg was throbbing with pain. Jehu had given him something to lessen the discomfort and allow him to walk to his son’s room, but it had not lasted long. The elf needed to sit down. Landis allowed his father to lean on him as he assisted him back into the bedroom to sit down on the bed. Trevor and Eric entered the room behind them. Eric carried a lit candle to provide them with light. He looked down at Diabolis’ lifeless body. “I don’t suppose that you learned who hired him?”

  Landis looked down at his former friend. “Unfortunately, no. But at least he will not be a danger to Petra any longer.”

  “That will not stop the Stalkers from trying again.” Eric said.

  “Perhaps,” Landis agreed. “But Diabolis was the one hired to complete the task. No other Stalker would dare try to kill her if Diabolis is the one who owns the contract. Until they know that he is dead she will be safe from them.”

  “What about the third man?” Trevor asked.

  “Dead.” Jehu informed them as he entered the room. “I put archers at the gate as you suggested. When they saw the man they shot him down in the dark.”

  Landis was pleased. “Then if we dispose of their bodies the Stalkers Guild will not know of Diabolis’ death for a while.”

  Chapter 24

  Landis sat on the side of the bed looking at the floor where the body of Diabolis had fallen after being cut down by his father. Thanks to the efforts of a pair of acolyte monks, who had been rousted out of their sleep to assist in removing the body and scrubbing the floor, there was no evidence of blood or any signs that a death had so recently occurred. Diabolis’ body had been carried off and stored with the remains of his two associates somewhere in the next building, where the lepers and other infectious patients were housed. A search of the assassin’s quarters led to the discovery of the two murdered novices. Their remains were taken to a separate location to be prepared for a proper burial, whereas the assassins’ bodies would be unceremoniously burned.

  Landis had been informed by Jehu that the cemetery behind the monastery was never used anymore. He explained that earlier monks had errantly buried the remains of plague victims and they dared not risk accidentally unearthing any unmarked graves and exposing anyone to any possible remnants of such diseases. Now they chose to burn the bodies of those who died under such maladies, while monks and other deserving patrons were buried in a new cemetery on the western side of the monastery.

  A careful search had been made of the assassin’s bodies and belongings in hopes of discovering any information that might point the finger at whomever had hired Diabolis to kill Petra, but nothing had been found.

  Landis was tired, but there would be little rest this night as the companions would need to be up early to discuss leaving for Alexon. Jehu had suggested that they remain at the monastery until they were certain that the road was free of orcs like those who had attacked them when they had arrived. He added that Jordan was still not fully recovered from his poisoning and his injuries would make travel by horseback impossible. Jaylen could ride but it would be painful. The idea of staying another day was tempting, but they had to be concerned with any possible pursuit from the Thieves Guild in Chio, especially if they became suspect in the disappearance of Mockabay and his sons. They trusted Jehu and the monks, but could not be sure which side their host would come down on if there were a conflict between the travelers and those who paid the monastery to protect this entrance to the Smuggler’s Road. It was unanimously excepted that leaving quickly would provide a head start on any future members of the Stalkers Guild who would not yet know of Diabolis’ failure.

  “This can all be discussed in the morning.” Landis mumbled before blowing out the candle and sliding into bed. He lay there in the dark thinking about the death of Diabolis, which brought back more memories of Jandelie’s death. In only a matter of days Landis had been involved with the deaths of two people who had both been close to him in years past. Jandelie’s loss was worse for obvious reasons. Yet both deaths nagged at him. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the faces of both Jandelie and Diabolis from his mind as he willed himself to sleep.

  “Landis.” He heard Triana’s voice speaking softly.

  He opened his eyes immediately. Instead of the darkness of the small room he was standing in the middle of the sunlit garden of his visions. Triana was standing before him, as beautiful as ever. What astonished Landis was who he saw standing in their midst: Twaller Oakleaf. Seeing the half-elf looking at him in disbelief Twaller said, “This is all new to me too, Landis. It is only the third time that I have had the pleasure of meeting your guide.”

  Triana addressed the duo, “It is very unusual to do this, just as it was unusual for me to visit you when the snow-elf was present. Sometimes it is warranted and we believe that this is necessary to assure that you both understand what it is that we wish you to do.”

  “I will do whatever you desire.” Twaller said, bowing to Triana.

  Landis reserved any comment until after hearing the request.

  “We want you to give Twaller the Green Staff.” Triana instructed Landis. “There is someone else that you will meet who will want this staff and you must not give it to him.”

  “Can you tell me who this person is?” Landis asked.

  “I dare not speak his name. All that you need to know is that no one who asks you for the staff should have it. Old One has determined that Twaller Oakleaf is to be the guardian of the staff. When he has decided who should have its counterparts we will inform you.”

  “Then Twaller will have it.” Landis agreed.

  The druid standing beside him beamed, “It will be an honor to protect the staff for Old One.”

  “There is one more pearl to capture.” Triana spoke.

  “The one in Zenon’s scepter.” Landis presumed.

  “You have already realized this truth.” Triana said, approving of the half-elf’s observation, “You must take it from him.”

  “I have only seen Zenon in visions, never in pers
on. How can I take it from him?” Landis inquired.

  “Prepare yourself for meeting him. He knows that his time is short to capture the pearls. There are things happening as we speak that will make him even more desperate. He will soon come after you directly, and when he does he will bring something more powerful against you than you could ever imagine. But one among you can stand against him.”

  “Who?” Landis asked.

  “The bearer of the Red Pearl will be the one. You must encourage him to stand strong. Should he falter you will all perish and Zenon will posses all four Pearls of the Elf Lords. You cannot permit that to happen.”

  Landis blinked and everything went dark. Landis was once again lying in his bed in the monastery. He was exhausted from everything that had happened today, but at least he felt satisfied that one question had been answered: In the morning he would hand over the Green Staff to Twaller Oakleaf.

  Movement beside Landis startled him. A slender arm wrapped around his waist. Landis turned his head to discover Petra lying beside him. He had not heard her enter the room or felt her climb into his bed. He wondered if she was the cause for the abrupt end to his visit with Triana. He thought of what his father had said to him earlier that morning. It now felt as if that conversation had been days ago and not as recent as it really was. He thought of Katryn, who was sleeping elsewhere in this same building. Memories of Jandelie came back to haunt him. He wanted to tell Petra that she should not be here but he was too tired to speak. In truth, after what had happened here this night, he welcomed the comfort of her embrace.