The Chain Breaker: Books 1-3

by Holmberg, D. K.

  “What was that?” Wrenlow asked.

  In the distance, he made out the movement of the guards. “It was a fortress, not a palace. Too well fortified be anything else.”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “Well, if I’m going to break into a palace, I think there’s a different technique to it than if I intended to break into a fortress. With a fortress, I have to worry about fighting my way in.”

  “Isn’t that what you do?”

  “Sometimes, but sometimes I need to sneak.”

  He slipped along the side of the street and pulled himself up a low-hanging roof. From there, he leaned forward over the street and peered down, watching for the guards and the woman. Even if she wasn’t the Apostle, maybe she could help him figure out who it was.

  “What has your curiosity shown you?” Wrenlow asked.

  “Just a hunch.”

  “I don’t like that.”

  “It’s worked in the past.”

  “It’s also ended up with you getting attacked in the past.”

  Gavin chuckled softly. “Just trust me.”

  As he continued looking over the edge of the rooftop, he caught sight of the woman and her guard heading in his direction. He’d figured as much. There wasn’t much along the street otherwise.

  He suddenly started to slide, and he braced himself, trying to keep himself from falling off. The movement drew the guard’s attention.

  Oh, shit.

  He scrambled back onto the rooftop, but he could already tell they were aware of him. He moved, shifting forward just a little bit to get to a place where he could hide, but there wasn’t anywhere for him to go. He rolled off to the side and dropped down to the street.

  Gavin flashed a wide smile. It was likely that it would draw even more attention, but it was the only thing he could think of doing. The guards rushed forward, surrounding the woman.

  He raised his hands up. “No worries here, friends. I just wanted to—”

  One of the guards darted forward, sword already unsheathed. Gavin growled. He ignored Wrenlow’s voice in his ear and reached for the man’s hand as he slipped toward Gavin. He grabbed the guard’s wrist and twisted off to the side, slamming the soldier back up against the wall and driving him away.

  He backed up, eyeing everything carefully. “You didn’t give me a chance to finish. I just wanted to take a look at this beauty I see before me.”

  “What are you doing?” Wrenlow asked.

  “Improvising,” he whispered.

  “Are you sure you should? I mean, she did just come from the Captain’s palace.”

  “No,” Gavin muttered.

  The four remaining guards started toward him. He quickly surveyed them to come up with a plan of attack. He could turn and run, but there was a curiosity within him. That and a stubborn streak. After fighting the El’aras, facing five traditional guards seemed a challenge he could handle.

  He shook his head as they came toward him. “You don’t need to do this, friends. All I wanted was to—”

  “We aren’t your friends,” one of them grunted.

  With that, two of them surged forward. Compared to the El’aras, they moved almost slowly. He twisted to the side, grabbing the wrist of the first attacker and swinging him around. The guard tripped over the soldier that’d already been dropped. Gavin jumped and flipped in the air, kicking the other soldier in the head as he twisted and sending him staggering backward.

  It left two guards. One of them moved forward, though he did so a little bit more cautiously.

  “Like I said, all I wanted was to—”

  Gavin again didn’t get the chance to finish. It was frustrating. All he wanted to do was tell them how he wanted to talk to the woman. Nothing more than a simple chat. Certainly not ogle her.

  He twisted and tried to reach for the man’s wrist the way he had the others, but this one was more skilled. Or lucky. Either way, it didn’t matter. The guard slipped forward with his sword, and it almost cut through Gavin’s cloak.

  Gavin reached for one of his knives before deciding against it. With a flurry of wrist movements characteristic of the Sudo style of fighting, he swatted the sword down. He smiled as he watched the frustration on his attacker’s face. He continued driving forward and coaxed the man into lowering his blade.

  The guard did so slowly, barely enough to drop it, and then Gavin kicked a heel up into the man’s belly and watched him crumple. Movement behind him made Gavin spin, and he kicked to again knock down the other two attackers who had started to get up. He was careful he didn’t strike too hard—or too violently. It wasn’t his goal to kill them.

  It left him with only one of the soldiers. The crest on his left upper chest signified rank. Not just a soldier. The leader.

  “You might need to talk to your men. All I wanted was to—”

  The remaining soldier charged forward. His moves were unnaturally fast. Gavin frowned, backing away to survey the attacker. After the El’aras, everybody had him on edge. If this woman was the Apostle, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had some skilled swordsman guarding her.

  He watched as the lead soldier came toward him with movements that were deliberate, controlled, and tight. Gavin was prepared for anything—other than what happened.

  As the soldier moved, his sword started to glow, and Gavin’s breath caught.

  El’aras.

  He’d seen it before. Not just an El’aras, but one who carried a sword. He didn’t think this was the same man, but the timing was too suspect.

  One-on-one, with anyone else, he expected he would’ve overmatched them. His trained ensured that. Against an El’aras with a sword, he was the one who was overmatched. Gavin didn’t have any misconceptions about that fact.

  He glanced at the woman, who watched him with a coolly neutral expression, and flicked his gaze back to the El’aras. If she were El’aras, too, then it was possible she was the Apostle. Not a sorcerer, but still powerful with magic. If he had to bring her in…

  “I think I found the Apostle,” he whispered.

  “Did you? Then see what you can do so you can—”

  Gavin couldn’t wait for Wrenlow to finish.

  The El’aras moved forward. Gavin tried to be prepared so he could deflect the next attack. His plan shifted from victory to mere survival. The idea of escaping was far more appealing to him than it had been before.

  Gavin slipped his El’aras dagger out of his belt. The other man eyed it for a moment, his gaze dark and angry, and then he attacked. He fought with a rapid sort of activity that was a flurry of violence and tightly controlled movement. Gavin had to back away.

  Through it all, the beautiful woman watched. He wanted some sort of reaction out of her. He would need to take a risk.

  He kicked off the ground and flipped, trying to twist up and over the El’aras. He barely avoided the blade. While in the air, he swept down with the dagger, brushing the blade off the side. He landed next to the woman.

  “You—” he started to say, but the attacker rushed toward him so quickly that Gavin stumbled over his own feet as he backpedaled. He rotated again and darted forward, and from there he slipped to the side, out of the way of the El’aras.

  Time to move. He glanced along the street and started to run, footsteps trailing behind him. For a moment, Gavin debated whether to fight, but instead he raced forward until he was able to blend into the crowd on the street. As he slipped away, he looked behind him.

  The El’aras was there, standing at the entrance to the street. He blocked anyone else from coming, and others that came near gave him a cursory glance before heading onward.

  Who was this woman?

  “Are you still there?” Wrenlow yelled in his ear.

  “I’m here,” he said.

  “Dammit, Gavin. You went silent. I thought something had happened to you.”

  “Something has happened to me. I think I found the El’aras who attacked us the night before.”

  �
�What?”

  “And I think I found the one responsible for hurting Jessica.”

  He didn’t know if this El’aras was the same one responsible for hurting Jessica.

  But how common could an El’aras sword actually be?

  He had recognized the fighting style, but maybe it was just the same style and not the same man.

  He reached an alley and paused. He waited, looking across the street, but the El’aras didn’t return. Slowing his breathing, he turned back toward the fortress, determined to get answers. The Captain obviously had them. It was time for him to take a riskier gamble, but that involved him heading into the fortress.

  “Just come back,” Wrenlow said. “We can figure this out once you’re back here.”

  “What’s there to figure out? The El’aras are involved in whatever this is. So is the Captain. And I need to know what’s going on with the Apostle.”

  The only problem was that he wasn’t sure what that would involve. He made his way to the fortress and approached the wall, but then hesitated. Wrenlow was right. This was a dangerous time, and they needed to be more careful than ever. What they needed was information. He would have to wait—but not for much longer.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gavin pushed open the door to the room. Jessica lay awake, staring up at the ceiling with her chestnut hair pooled around her head. Her breathing was easier than it had been before. She rolled her head over to look at him, a hint of a smile coming to her face, her deep blue eyes watching him.

  “You don’t have to look at me like that,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Look at you like what?”

  “Like you fear that I won’t pull through this.”

  Gavin stepped into the room. A candle burned on the table, and her belongings piled up on either side. A washbasin filled with water was set on a small table next to the bed. The sheets had been peeled back and soaked with sweat as she’d recovered. He had changed her out of her bloodied clothes and into clean ones, but she had soaked through them as well.

  He pulled the chair over to the bed and took a seat on it. “How do you feel?”

  “About how I look, I suppose.”

  “I think you look great,” he said, forcing a smile.

  She reached for him, taking his hand before smacking it with the other. “We don’t lie to each other, Gavin. I know I look like shit.”

  He chuckled. “I’m glad you didn’t die.”

  “You and me both.” She glanced to the door. “And the Dragon?”

  “It’s shut for now. At least until you can recover well enough to run it.”

  Jessica breathed out and winced as she did, reaching for her stomach. The effects of the poison had gone, but the wound to her belly hadn’t fully healed. That would take time. “It’s going to be a while before I can get on my feet to run the tavern again. There are a few of my girls who could handle it.”

  “Gaspar thought the same, but Imogen wouldn’t let him.”

  A hint of a smile curled her lips. “Wouldn’t she?”

  “Why do you smile like that?”

  Jessica sniffed. “That’s not my secret to share. I suppose if Imogen doesn’t want the tavern to open, then it won’t. We can wait until I’m back on my feet. Hopefully, it won’t be that much longer.”

  Gavin nodded. “Probably not. You’ve been looking better every day.”

  “I told you not to lie to me,” she said.

  “Fine. You look terrible, and I don’t know how long it will take for you to fully recover. Is that what you want to hear?”

  “That’s better. Have you figured out who did this to me?”

  He nodded slowly. He knew that it was El’aras, but he still didn’t understand everything involved. More than that, he didn’t know what it was going to take to find this Apostle. “It’s going to be difficult.”

  “For you, or for me?”

  “Mostly for me. I think the hardest part for you is over,” he said.

  “I hope so.” She closed her eyes. “Why is it going to be difficult for you?”

  “I have to find someone who shouldn’t even be in the city.”

  She opened one eye, glancing at him. “What kind of person?”

  He shook his head.

  “Gavin?”

  “A sorcerer.”

  She sucked in a breath and then coughed, wincing as she did. “Damn. There shouldn’t be any sorcerers in the city. The treaty—”

  “I know all about the treaty,” Gavin said. “And I know there shouldn’t be sorcerers here. Gaspar has said the same thing.”

  “You’ve been working with Gaspar?”

  “He won’t leave me alone. Ever since you got hurt, he’s forced himself upon me.”

  She started to smile. “I didn’t think you’d be into that sort of thing.”

  “Jessica…”

  “Trust him, Gavin. He’s a good man.” Her eyes closed again, and she started breathing slowly and steadily.

  He watched her sleep for a few moments before getting to his feet, looking around the room. Most of his things were in the room. Gavin was settled in this city in a way that he hadn’t been in quite a long time. Seeing Jessica hurt, and knowing that it was because of him, made it difficult for him.

  Which was all the more reason that he needed to deal with this. He wanted revenge. He wanted to finish these jobs. And he wanted to ensure that those responsible for what happened to Jessica were dealt with. She deserved that.

  “Be careful,” she said as he reached the door, her voice weak.

  He glanced back, and she was already back asleep.

  When he made his way down into the tavern, Gaspar was the only person there. He nodded to Gavin, and they headed out, pulling the door to the Dragon closed behind them. They made their way through the streets, neither of them saying anything. They had already agreed on what they needed to do and where they needed to go. Gavin hadn’t been entirely sure whether Gaspar would come with him or argue about this, but the man had come willingly and had said nothing more. They walked through the center of the city and by a market long since closed for the day. The moonlight bounced off the cobblestones, and they passed a few other taverns before heading toward the manor house.

  Gavin walked along the street, glancing over at Gaspar. This section of the city had nicer homes, and they were spaced far enough apart that there was green lawn between them, unlike in other parts of the city where the homes were crammed together. Most had massive walls surrounding them, creating an almost impenetrable barrier that prevented anyone from getting too close. He tried to approach as carefully as he could, ignoring the occasional person they passed on the street. He had strategically worn a long cloak that covered his simple shirt and pants, much like Gaspar did. Otherwise, it would be much more obvious that neither of them belonged here.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d been out of the tavern with Gaspar, but it was the first time they’d stayed in the city. He noted the way Gaspar took everything in, his gaze sweeping quickly before turning in a different direction. Gaspar was on edge, though Gavin wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the man not on edge.

  “Where was it?” Gaspar asked. His voice was rough, and he looked up at the buildings nearby.

  “That one,” Gavin said, pointing to the manor house. He tried to do so as nonchalantly as possible, but it was difficult without drawing too much attention.

  Gaspar made a casual turn, looking as if he made no intention of heading where he was actually going to be heading. They weaved along the street, and when Gaspar reached the corner where the manor house was, he paused and turned away from it.

  Gavin stayed with him. He could learn from the old thief. Tristan had taught him about sneaking along streets and trying to remain hidden, but Gaspar made a living doing so. There was an element of stealth involved in the kind of work Gavin did, but that wasn’t what Tristan had trained him for. He’d wanted Gavin to be prepared to end a fight if he were to get into one—to hurt and t
o kill if necessary.

  Gavin looked back at the manor house. He’d been here a few times since that night, and each time that he’d come, there’d been no further activity. The house had been completely abandoned.

  “You still don’t know anything about the target?” Gaspar asked.

  “Nothing other than this location. And that it was a woman.”

  Gaspar glanced over. “Makes you wonder, though.”

  “Wonder about what?”

  “About whether your target is the same woman you encountered the other day.” When Gavin didn’t say anything, Gaspar pushed on. “Why would she have been at the Captain’s home?”

  Gavin had since doubted the woman was the Apostle. The sorcerer who’d hired him had claimed the Apostle was another sorcerer, and Gavin suspected the woman to be El’aras.

  “I don’t know,” he said. He lingered for a moment before turning.

  “You aren’t going to stay and keep looking?” Gaspar asked.

  He’d caught up to Gavin, though he’d done so with such a casual movement that it looked almost as if he were unconcerned about reaching him. Gavin had to acknowledge that the other man was far more skilled with navigating through the city than he would’ve expected.

  “Did you see anything there?” Gavin asked.

  “You didn’t give me long to look.”

  “You don’t need long to know that there’s nothing taking place.” He flicked his gaze over. “They abandoned it.”

  “That makes you wonder too.”

  “Why?”

  “Seems like it’s not the kind of place you would simply abandon. The only reason to do that would be if you were afraid you were discovered.”

  “She was discovered. I was there.”

  “You think they would be concerned if it was only you?”

  Gavin frowned, glancing back at the manor house. “I did cut through them fairly easily.”

  “Did you?”

  “Enough to give them a second thought.”

  “Makes you wonder,” Gaspar said again.

  Gavin nodded slowly. If it was all about just getting to the woman, then he couldn’t help but wonder what else there might be. Whoever had hired him had known he was efficient but not necessarily stealthy.