by Sam Ferguson
“Why not, we’re on a river ya know,” Hogef replied.
“Just get outta here!”
Hogef shrugged and opened the hatch that led to the ladder. He scurried down as fast as his limbs would take him.
“You could’ve closed the hatch, you louse,” Rinder shouted after him. Rinder flipped the hatch closed with his foot and returned to the parapet. He looked down at the approaching wagon and shook his head, grumbling about how stupid Hogef was and cursing the big oaf for so being. As he looked down, some of the smoke swirled open and allowed him to catch a glimpse of something white. He leaned over and tried to discern what it was. As a gust of wind pushed more of the smoke aside, Rinder realized that there was a rider behind the wagon. He was about to turn and give the order to drop the portcullis when a sharp pain erupted through his chest. He looked down to see a crossbow bolt protruding from his body. Rinder’s shaky hands moved up to touch the blood soaked tip, and then all went dark.
*****
“Is that gate up all the way?” Hogef yelled as he stormed out of the tower toward the men at the cog.
“Yes sir, we got it up. What do we do now?” one of the men shouted back.
“You try to stop the horses and unhitch them from the wagon,” Hogef ordered.
“How in Basei’s name are we going to do that?” the men complained.
“I dunno,” Hogef said. “Maybe we should get some water.”
The four soldiers stared blankly at Hogef.
“Well don’t just stand there, we have to do something!” Hogef yelled. “Look,” he pointed out to the bridge so that the men could see how close the wagon was. “It’s almost here and…” Hogef stopped midsentence and stared. He watched a body fall from above and disappear in the smoke. “Rinder?” Hogef muttered. He wasn’t sure what to do. He turned back to the four men, who were still waiting for orders. He looked at them for a moment and then a sudden sting pierced his neck. He choked on a salty, metallic liquid in his throat and mouth before crumpling to the ground.
*****
Talon smiled as he reloaded his crossbow again. “Two down,” he smirked. The wagon flew through the portcullis just as Talon watched the second guard fall to the ground. He could hear a multitude of shouts coming from his right side so he readied his crossbows and steered his horse out of the smoke.
As he emerged from the thick haze, he saw four men standing mouth agape and eyes wide. A second later, two of them joined their dead comrades in the afterlife as crossbow bolts struck them each in the head. Talon then dropped his crossbows and drew his sword. He leapt from his steed and landed on the third guard, crushing the man to the ground under his weight and cracking his skull against the stone wall. The assassin stabbed the fourth guard in the gut with his sword and skillfully retracted the sword in such a way that it sliced through the third guard’s neck, just to be sure they were both dead. Talon quickly looked up at the other towers, but no guards were visible up there.
“Time to check the guardhouse,” he muttered to himself.
Three men, only one of them fully dressed, came running out of the building with swords flashing in the sun. Two of them started for the frantic horses, the third stopped and pointed at Talon.
“Halt!” the dressed guard yelled at Talon.
Talon just laughed and sprinted toward them. This time he decided to mix up his tactics. He threw his sword at the closest guard. The blade whirled end-over-end until it sunk deep into the man’s chest. The force of the blow hurled the man backward a few feet and he landed with the sword pinning him to the dirt like a grotesque butterfly in an insect collection.
“Basei help me!” the second guard shrieked.
“Pray to me!” Talon roared as he charged up and snapped the man’s neck with a single punch.
Talon ducked low under a swipe of the third guard’s sword. The assassin pulled a long, curved knife from his cloak in an upside down grip and deflected several strikes from the guard.
“Where would you like to be stabbed?” Talon teased as he danced around another furious swing of the guard’s sword.
“Shut up, you mongrel,” the guard yelled back.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you prefer a clean slice across your throat instead of a stab wound?” Talon taunted. The guard yelled furiously and chopped at Talon, but the assassin easily side stepped the assault and booted the guard on the backside.
“I’ll kill you!” promised the guard.
“I doubt it,” Talon stated dryly. “I grow tired of you.” Talon drew a pair of slim throwing knives from his belt with his left hand, fitting them both in between his fingers and prepared to launch them.
The guard started running forward with his sword held in a high-guard position, but he stopped a few yards short as the two knives tore through his chest. Talon watched as the man let go of his sword and moved his hands to grab the two knives. The assassin looked into the young guard’s horrified, pained eyes as the man slumped over to the side. A few moments later the breath of life left the guard and he became still as a rock.
“You…will…not…escape…” the impaled guard promised through labored breaths a few yards away.
Talon arched an eyebrow, impressed that the man was still alive. He walked over to him and placed a hand on his sword. The guard weakly moved his hand toward a dagger at his belt.
“A shame to kill one with your resolve,” Talon said humbly. He ripped the sword free and finished the guard off, ending his torment. “A shame your strength was not equal to your determination.” He sheathed his sword and walked away.
The assassin then glanced over at the pair of horses that had been tied to the burning wagon. One of the horses was badly injured, with burns covering its back half, but the other horse was relatively unscathed and running around, dragging the still-burning wagon tongue in the dirt behind it. He sniggered and searched the area for new supplies. He found an uncovered wagon, not unlike the one he had just burned, in the stable area. He hitched the uninjured horse to the new wagon and loaded it with some food and drink from the guardhouse.
After he had his supplies ready, Talon went around and gathered all of the bodies of the Zinferth guards, stacking each one in the back of the wagon. After he finished, he went into the guardhouse and changed into one of the uniforms he found inside. Then he hitched the black horse to the wagon. There was still a lot of work to do, but he knew that if he hurried he could make it to Rasselin before the other Shausmatian guards were even half-way to Valiv. The window of opportunity was short, but he felt confident that he and his contact would be able to exploit it sufficiently for their needs.
*****
Lador paced back and forth in the large, cold waiting area of Governor Gandle’s manor. Sunbeams pierced through the window high up on the wall reflecting off the marble tiles below, illuminating the ante chamber effortlessly.
Large, exquisite paintings adorned the wall just above a pair of white granite benches. Each of the paintings were flanked by gaudy golden candlesticks that stood six feet tall, held seven candles each, and were adorned by various polished gemstones. None of the candles were lit, of course, it was just a show of Governor Gandle’s wealth. It disgusted Captain Lador almost as much as being made to wait for an audience.
One of the large double-doors opened and Gandle’s butler entered the waiting room.
“Is he ready to see me yet?” Lador asked.
“Not yet sir,” the butler replied as he walked through the room and exited. His nose was so high that it appeared to Captain Lador as if the man was walking by smell rather than sight.
“It is a very urgent matter,” Lador shouted at the butler’s back, but the man continued on and closed the door behind him. The captain huffed and sat down on one of the benches. He had already been waiting for over an hour, and he was beginning to worry about Kai. The minutes passed by and gave way to another two hours before the doors to the waiting room opened again. This time it was Governor Gandle. He stood in the doorway,
his bald head reflecting the sunlight from above as he stared down at Lador.
“I understand you wish to speak with me,” Gandle grumbled. “Have you been waiting long?”
“You know full well I have been trying to see you for three days now, Governor,” Lador bristled. He knew that the only reason he had been waiting so long was because Gandle had wanted him to. The crotchety old man had treated the captain like this on many occasions, though this was the longest he had waited for an audience before.
“Well, it is almost noon, captain,” Gandle announced, disregarding Lador’s statement. “I will have to push our meeting back until I have had the opportunity to eat lunch.”
“But sir,” Lador blurted. “I need to speak with you about the other night’s killings.”
“I would hate to ruin my appetite, captain. At my age, it is hard enough to maintain a healthy diet as it is.”
“Governor Gandle, one of my rangers is in danger, and I need to settle this matter with you right this moment.”
“I know that you favor Kai Thendarr,” the governor growled. “However, I cannot allow your poor judgment to persuade me in this matter. I will come to my own conclusions and deal with Kai accordingly. In the meantime, you will sit on your sorry, useless arse until I decide it is time to speak with you. Have I made myself clear?”
Lador said nothing. He clenched his jaw and looked down to the marble floor. He was thinking how he could phrase the thoughts that were in his head objectively, but the only sentences he could think of would most likely result in his forced resignation, or, knowing how Gandle would likely respond, in a prison term.
Gandle turned and exited the room, leaving Lador to brood alone.
CHAPTER SIX
Talon slowed his horse as he approached Rasselin’s great walls under the scorching, desert sun. The gates were shut, and a squad of six guardsmen stood in front, with several figures visible upon the walls.
The six guards readied their poleaxes as Talon’s wagon neared the gate. Each guard studied him carefully. Talon smiled and opened his cloak, revealing the Zinferth uniform that he had stolen and clothed himself in. This put the guards at ease.
“Hail,” Talon shouted with a hand stretched out in greeting. “I have urgent information for Governor Gandle.” Talon halted his wagon just a few yards away from the guards.
“I am sorry sir, the city is closed,” one of the large guards said. “Even for imperial soldiers.”
“I think you will change your mind when you see what is in the wagon,” Talon argued with fake concern in his tone.
“Soldier, it doesn’t matter what is in the wagon,” the guard replied. He started to approach, but stopped dead in his tracks when Talon removed the cover and displayed the bodies in the wagon.
Talon watched the guard’s blood drain from his face. The others took a couple steps closer to inspect the carnage.
“By Basei’s beard!” one of the men cursed.
“Were you ambushed?” the lead guard asked.
“We suffered an attack at the bridge, and I need to get a message to the governor.”
The guard stood there, speechless. The other guards still stared at the back of the wagon, but they covered their faces as a light breeze carried the stench of death out from the wagon.
“We will have to keep the wagon outside until the governor can arrange for a burial service,” one of the other guards said after a long while.
“Alright, take the wagon to the hitching-post, and I will escort the soldier in to see the governor,” the first guard said.
“Thank you,” Talon replied. “We need to meet him as soon as possible.” Talon jumped down from the wagon and the other guards moved in to recover the bodies and move the wagon.
Talon and the guard rushed through a small doorway on the side of the gatehouse and walked briskly through the streets. People stared at the pair as they passed, some of them pointing and whispering to each other. It seemed to Talon that they expected ill tidings and saw him as the harbinger of their fears. The assassin sneered ever so slightly, amusing himself at the irony, for he would become the realization of fears greater than these people had ever known.
*****
“Sir, there is a young soldier from Hart’s Bridge here to see you, he says it is a matter of great import,” Gandle’s butler laid a small note on the table.
Governor Gandle looked down to read the brief report of an attack at Hart’s Bridge and saw the initial “T” at the bottom of the note. “Show him in at once,” Gandle ordered. “And on your way out, tell Captain Lador that he will have to wait a while longer.”
“As you wish,” the butler replied.
Gandle pushed away his plate and cleared his mouth and throat with a big gulp of red wine. He had barely set the goblet down when another of his servants swept the dishes from the table and whisked them out of the room. A moment later, Talon entered with the butler. The butler graciously bowed, stepped back out through the doorway and then closed the door to afford the two some privacy.
“I didn’t expect to see you,” Gandle said dryly.
“It was unfortunate that our last venture failed,” Talon replied as he helped himself to a chair at the table.
“Theodorus is dead,” Gandle put in.
“Yes, well, he was a fool.” Talon leaned over and plucked a tomato from the silver fruit bowl still on the table. “I told Raimus not to trust the operation to him, but he insisted that it was best.”
“How is Raimus doing these days?” Gandle asked. “I hope he doesn’t have a new scheme that he wants me to join.” Gandle coughed and shook his head. “I don’t have time to suffer another foolish strategy.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Talon said. He took a bite of the tomato and chewed, smiling all the while at Gandle.
“Then, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Gandle pressed. “I saw your note.”
“About that,” Talon started through a mouthful of tomato, “I have a new plan of action to overthrow your cousin.”
Gandle wagged a bony finger and shook his head slowly. “I said, I am not interested in any more plans. Raimus had his chance. He failed.”
Talon swallowed and turned the tomato in his hand. “I said I have a new plan.” He took another bite and wiped the corners of his mouth with his left arm.
“Since when do you come up with the plans?” Gandle shot back. The old man leaned forward, bones creaking as he stretched his hand and pulled the fruit bowl away from Talon’s greedy fingers.
Talon watched the bowl slide away and chuckled. “Raimus is dead, and I have taken his place.”
“Is that so? How very interesting,” Gandle mused.
“I want you to know that Raimus was just using you. He was manipulating your desires to reach his own end.” Talon stood up and approached the governor, eyeing the fruit bowl.
“Ah, and now you are going to tell me that you will not deceive me if I agree to partner up with you, is that it?” Governor Gandle asked with a mocking smile.
“Not at all, I am here to use you as he did, but I will not lie about it or keep the fact secret. I think we can help each other better if we are forthright with our individual designs.” Talon reached down and took the bowl from the governor’s hands.
“What is it you want?” the old man quipped.
“I am seeking certain artifacts that will help me unleash the power of the Tomni’Tai Scroll,” Talon said as he took a fig from the bowl and opened it.
“Those are rare in these parts,” Gandle said, eyeing the fig covetously as the assassin devoured it. “As for your designs, they are foolish. I have spent many years studying that scroll and it is impossible to recover. You would need an army to get it away from the elves. Even if you could acquire it, you would still lack the other relics.”
“If I help you overthrow your cousin, will you give me what you know about the scroll?” Talon asked.
Gandle let his back fall against the chair and folded his thin arm
s across his chest. He thought for a moment as he watched Talon take the last fig from the bowl. “If I agreed, and I am not saying I will, what exactly do you have in mind?” Gandle inquired.
“The note about the bridge is true. All of the soldiers are dead, save for a pair of Shausmatian guards that were dispatched to Valiv before I arrived. I have brought the bodies of the Zinferth soldiers back here in a wagon.”
Gandle nodded and stroked his long, white beard with his left hand. “What would you have me do? Am I to whip my citizens up into war because of a skirmish on the bridge, is that it?” Gandle narrowed his eyes on Talon.
“That is part of it.” Talon said with a shrug. I figured that you could send some soldiers to the bridge and attack the Shausmatian reinforcements. If you dispatch a battle-group today, they might arrive at the bridge first and guarantee a victory. This would make you a hero in the eyes of the people.”
“But that alone will not be enough. The queen is soft, and it will take more than a skirmish at the border to force her hand.” Gandle sighed. “She will allow me to defend the region, but she will not send in the imperial army. This plan will not create more hostility than any of the other recent battles. She still believes peace can be made with Shausmat.”
“I was also planning on removing some officials from office, to make it appear as though the enemy had been clandestinely operating within Zinferth territory,” Talon put in.
Gandle nodded and stroked his beard, twisting the end around his forefinger. “I like the idea of black-flag operations, but I don’t know if it will be enough.”
“What about this criminal I have heard so much about recently, could we not attribute some of his crimes to the Shausmatians to increase popular support for all-out war?”
“Perhaps,” Gandle grumbled. “The man is no ordinary criminal, he’s a ranger.”
Talon straightened and put the fruit bowl back on the table. “A ranger… that is interesting.”
