The Fourth Age Shadow Wars: Assassins (The Fourth Age: Shadow Wars Book 1)

by David Pauly

  Knowing that expert bowmen would soon close the distance on the rooftops and could not be expected to miss at such close range, Alfrahil urged his exhausted horse to go even faster. The hum of an arrow passed so close to his ear that Alfrahil was certain he had been hit until he heard a surprised, anguished cry from the rooftops behind him.

  In front of Alfrahil, stood a small company of archers from the Citadel: it was one of their arrows he had felt flit by, to find its target among the traitors on the roofs. Their commander shouted something to Alfrahil, but he could not make out even a word of it. Then he saw another volley of arrows take flight. Agile forms raced past the archers, leaped upon the walls, and scaled them like monkeys: more Shadows on their way to attack and capture the archers.

  A fresh escort, all horsed, surrounded him, and before he could ask a question or issue a command he was bound for the Citadel again. Consumed by shock and grief, Alfrahil scarcely noticed what was going on around him until he saw they were clattering up the last tunnel and emerging into the Citadel proper.

  Dismounting, the guards helped Alfrahil and his sole surviving guardsman— grievously wounded—from their horses and half-carried them deeper within the protection of the ancient walls.

  Mergin stood there with several guardsmen, the expression on his ashen face a mixture of wrath and relief. 'My Lord, inside quickly. A healer is standing by to aid you.'

  Nodding, too weary to speak, Alfrahil allowed himself to be led indoors by two guards. Mergin followed as the men conducted Alfrahil to a nearby guardroom where a young healer was waiting. There Mergin took his leave, explaining that he would have food and wine sent, but that meanwhile he had to oversee the defense of the Citadel.

  As Alfrahil was pressed back onto a cot, he heard shouts from the hallway, and more guardsmen passed by the wooden door at a run. He struggled to rise, but the healer pushed him back easily. He was as weak as a newborn; he could be of no help to anyone now.

  The healer was rinsing the blood from his forehead when the wine arrived. Raising a hand to the healer, who stepped back, Alfrahil grabbed a full goblet and drank it down without tasting it, then consumed another one before allowing the healer to resume his task.

  As the man worked, Alfrahil regained his composure. His wits began to return, and he noticed a horrible stench of charred flesh, smoke, and stale sweat mixed with blood and urine. He suddenly became aware that he was the source of the latter and had pissed himself in his terror. For a moment he felt embarrassed but then anger flared through him at Mergin for allowing this debacle to happen. At that moment, as if on cue, a brief knock was heard, and Mergin entered the room flanked by two Shadows.

  Before Alfrahil could say a word, Mergin said, 'My Lord, I cannot express my apologies deeply enough or my regret that I failed to keep you safe today. I have tendered my resignation to the King, but he has refused to allow me to quit my post.'

  Struggling to rise from the cot, Alfrahil was suddenly terrified for his father's well-being. 'Where is he, Mergin? Is he safe?'

  'Yes, my Lord. As soon as the initial plans of the ambush were known, I doubled his Majesty's guard, placing him within a remote part of the Citadel. He has heard of your plight and desires to see you as soon as it is safe and you are able. I have just come from him.'

  'What in the name of the gods happened, Mergin?' demanded Alfrahil in a weak but angry voice. 'You are supposed to keep anything like this from ever being plotted, much less executed!'

  'I do not know yet what happened, my Lord. I have dispatched riders and men afoot throughout the Second District in search of information. I hope to have some preliminary information by this evening.'

  Satisfied that his father was safe, Alfrahil's thoughts turned in another direction. 'What of Daerahil, Mergin? He must be in great danger as well.'

  'I do not know, my lord. I have one unconfirmed report that he suddenly left his post at the out-walls yesterday morning with his guard detachment at about the same time we were taking countermeasures against the ambush. His precipitous departure raises the question of whether or not he had any part in today's horrible events.'

  Alfrahil's anger returned, albeit at a lesser pitch. 'Your dislike of my brother colors your judgment Mergin; Daerahil would never conspire against me, or against our father. He must have had a good reason for leaving his post, if your report is even accurate in that respect. But what of my men; how are Biramin, Alcar, Dark Mist, and the rest of my guard detail?'

  'Perhaps you should wait to hear the news, my Lord, until you are better rested and have had your wounds tended.'

  'Tell me now, Mergin. Nothing else could shock me further. Or must I go and see for myself?' He again tried to rise, but again the healer pushed him back as if he were an infant.

  'Wait, my Lord,' said Mergin. 'Allow the healer to do his work. I will tell you what you wish to know.'

  'Then do so,' replied Alfrahil.

  'All of your men are presumed dead. The only survivor besides the one who brought you in is Alcar. He was burnt horribly, shot through with six arrows and is lying in the Healers' Hall now, close to death. We have had no news yet of Biramin. That is the extent of my knowledge, I'm afraid. If you will excuse me, my Lord, I will return in a few minutes after speaking with Gray Water, the Shadow leader, to see what more I can discover.'

  'Do not tarry overlong, Mergin,' said Alfrahil. 'I wish to see my father.'

  'As you command,' said Mergin. He bowed and left.

  When they were alone, the healer offered Alfrahil a powerful potion. 'My Lord, this will allow you to sleep, sparing you additional pain so I can stitch your wound.'

  'Sleep? Nay, healer, I need my wits about me this day. I cannot sleep until I learn the fate of my men.'

  'As you wish, my Lord, this may sting a bit.' The healer touched a cloth to Alfrahil's cut brow, and a searing sensation flashed across the wound.

  Gritting his teeth against the pain, Alfrahil was amazed when it receded as quickly as it had arrived, taking the rest of his pain with it. Now the healer was able to clean and stitch the wound. All the while, Alfrahil he felt nothing at all. ‘How is this possible?’ he asked the healer. The healer replied ‘A plant from the Great Forest has recently been rediscovered in the shadows of Tarin Nazar.”

  ‘Tarin Nazar? Is this then a weed of evil?’ asked a startled Alfrahil.

  ‘No, Lord, it is an ancient healing herb that had thrived upon the stony heights below that ancient keep. It was feared lost forever once Magnar took the fortress from the Elves, but hidden away in a few recesses, the plants managed to sustain themselves. It is only this year that the plants were plentiful enough to be harvested and their unguents traded to us by the Lesser Elves.

  One last tug and the healer stepped back. 'I am done with stitching your wounds, but I am afraid you will bear a scar for the rest of your life. I will leave you now, lord. Try and rest until Lord Mergin returns.'

  'Thank you, please have a bath prepared for me along with fresh clothes.' replied Alfrahil. He scarcely saw the healer leave preoccupied with memories of all the horrors he had witnessed and endured this day.

  #

  Thirty minutes later, a brief knock announced Mergin's return. The minister brought two of Alfrahil's servants with him to tend his needs.

  Mergin, still pale from the day's events, saw the marks of terror and uncertainty on Alfrahil's face and wondered again if Alfrahil were too weak to one day serve as King. 'Still better Alfrahil than his brother.' What had horrified Mergin more than anything in the attacks was the knowledge that if Alfrahil had been slain, Daerahil would have stood next in line to the throne. 'Alfrahil, for all his faults, would at least be easier to manipulate. Not so the brilliant hot-headed Daerahil. If he should succeed King Creon, then my plan to rule the kingdom from behind the throne will vanish in the blink of an eye and the drop of my own head.'

  Covering his feelings, Mergin was grateful that Alfrahil did not have his brother's skills, and even more grateful that
Creon in his rage had interrogated him only briefly with his mental powers in the wake of the attacks. The king had grown far too reliant on his abilities, believing that no one could hide anything from him. And that was the simple truth, Mergin knew. But he also knew that Creon was lazy and did not like to expend the effort necessary to probe beneath a powerful mind like Mergin's.

  As they exited his room, Mergin said,

  'We will go to see your father now.'

  Alfrahil turned to Mergin and asked, 'What of my brother? Is there any additional word?'

  'I received a message that he was visiting Prince Paladir; he claims he received an urgent message from Paladir to visit him in Ackerlea immediately. Apparently he was about to return, when he learned of the attempt on your life. He was then heard to comment that there was no need for both Princes of Eldora to be at risk.'

  'Well, that's simply common sense. One of us must remain alive to insure the succession of the realm. What of this statement?'

  'He apparently uttered it prior to the attack upon you here in the City, before the first waft of smoke arose.'

  Stopping in his tracks, Alfrahil looked about him and realized that besides guards fore and aft of their position, many paces away, that they were alone in a side corridor parallel to the main corridor of the Citadel.

  'Yes, Lord, you heard me right,' said Mergin. It may be that your brother had prior knowledge of this afternoon's events, for how would he know, even after the first smoke went up, what it meant? How could he know that you were anywhere near the blaze, much less the intended target? This way he could have an ironclad excuse for any involvement, as he was far away from the City. Do you not find it strange that he chose this day to visit Paladir, a journey not on his schedule for at least another month? Besides, I doubt that there was a message from Paladir at all, and in addition to deserting his post, he placed himself away from the City and out of danger. More importantly, military protocol demands that when a senior commander, such as your brother leaves his post, he must send word to the King. Your father did not receive such a message.' Mergin smiled internally, as there had indeed been a message from Daerahil, but he had caused it to be destroyed, while the messenger who had brought it was sent on a long journey floating face-down on the river Aphon.

  'Well,' Alfrahil said, 'we shall see what he has to say for himself when he returns. Now I must see my father.'

  'Yes, my Lord,' replied Mergin. 'Let us go to him now.'

  Moving through the eerily quiet halls, Alfrahil glanced about himself and at Mergin from the corner of his eye. 'Where is everyone?'

  Murmuring so his voice did not carry too far down the corridor, Mergin answered, 'The usual servants and courtiers have been removed at my order. Only Citadel guards are allowed within the First District, along with a few trustworthy servants, all ex-soldiers and completely loyal to you and your family.'

  'What of Minister Zarthir, Mergin?' asked Alfrahil. 'He and his cohorts must be the chief suspects in this conspiracy.'

  'Yes, my Lord, they are indeed suspects,' said Mergin. 'Minister Zarthir returned directly to his apartments after you broke up the little party he was involved in at the joy house. He dressed in his apartments and was waiting along with other courtiers and Ministers in the foyer outside the Council room.'

  'Was he there all day?' asked Alfrahil.

  'Yes, my Lord, and he returned there until you returned, supremely arrogant and confident as ever, making his importance felt as usual,' said Mergin.

  'Is he under watch, Mergin?'

  'Yes, Lord. Once I learned that he was at the joy house where you confronted him, I had Shadows follow him and report back to me.'

  'Did the Shadows notice anything unusual?'

  'No, Lord. The day that you confronted him he returned to his home without incident. He apparently ate, drank, spent some time with a young serving wench, bathed, attired himself in his usual raiment, and left his home in a little over an hour.'

  'Who else, Mergin? Who else could be behind this?' asked Alfrahil.

  'We know not, my Lord. There are those that are of similar disposition to Zarthir, including the head of the fishing guild, and other wealthy merchants. We have also had the sons of the Shardan lords under close eye today, but they seem more interested in idling their time away with the other privileged youths of the Citadel.'

  Alfrahil thought briefly of the Shardan lords who had pledged their loyalty to Eldora, giving their sons as hostage for their good behavior. Lately the links between the Shardan nobility and the rebels had become more tenuous, at least publicly. The King had, therefore, decreed that the youths would serve for a year and a day as captives. They would then be replaced by new hostages and sent home. It was difficult but not inconceivable to imagine these idle lordlings involved in today's conspiracy.

  'Yes, Mergin, they probably are more concerned with drinking and gaming than with fomenting rebellion, even at their fathers' request,' said Alfrahil. 'Please keep me informed of the results of your inquiries.'

  Grimly Mergin nodded his silvered head. 'Yes, Lord, I will certainly do so.'

  Seeing they were coming to an end of these disused corridors, Alfrahil asked, 'Is my father nearby?'

  'Yes, Lord, in the base of the old astrologers' tower. Now that the astrologers have built themselves a watchtower on the farthest shoulder of the Great Peak, they only return here for their monthly meetings. Usually their servants are present to keep the place dusted and prepared for their return. But I have had them dispatched on errands out of the City for the next few days.'

  Entering the courtyard adjoining the astrologers' tower, Alfrahil looked around to see the King's guards. Startled to see nothing more than a pair of crows circling overhead, Alfrahil turned to Mergin with a questioning look.

  'They are well hidden, my Lord, well hidden indeed,' said Mergin. 'Archers from Anscomb and Shadows. Anyone entering this courtyard besides me, you, or your brother, and the King himself, of course serving as an escort, would be slain without warning. It will be tedious ferrying food, servants, and the like from this doorway to the tower yonder for the next few days, but we will all have to bear it.'

  'Are there no others you trust?' asked Alfrahil.

  'The other counselors that I know who are loyal are all older than I, and I have set them to discreetly aid me in my quest to find out who the conspirators are. Some of them are close enough to the suspected conspirators to prove useful. The rest will find out where the loyalties of their own families and servants lie. By the end of the week, we should have a reasonably good picture of whom we can count upon for certain.'

  'What of Biramin and my guard detachment that was with him?' asked Alfrahil.

  'Miraculously, Biramin is alive. He was just pulled from the ruins of the bridge an hour ago. There are a few of your regular guardsmen that survived, but the final count is as yet unknown.'

  'Will he recover?'

  'He shall, my Lord. The finest healers in the Hospice have tended him, and while it will be several weeks before he is hale again, his Dwarf mail served him well.'

  'Dwarf mail? You mean he actually was wearing it today beneath his tunic?' asked an amazed Alfrahil. Smiling darkly, he continued, 'Truth is indeed stranger than fiction. Biramin routinely swore he had no need of such protection and that the mail was far too ostentatious and much too expensive to be worn. But tell me, Mergin; how is it that he survived the fall? Dwarf armor or no, it was nearly a hundred feet down to the stone floor of the quarry!'

  'He was caught between the broken remnants of some of the beams of the bridge, one of only a handful of survivors there. I know of no more details at this time.'

  Passing within the seemingly unguarded archway, Alfrahil saw a brief flash of steel in a nook to his left as a Shadow lowered a raised weapon and spoke from behind a tapestry covering an old doorway. 'I have confirmed that it is you, Lord Mergin, and you, my Lord Prince. You may enter.'

  'Thank you, group leader. Please return to your dutie
s,' replied Mergin.

  Entering into the crowded main room of the astrologers' tower, Alfrahil saw a dozen guards on duty, with others taking their ease around hastily set up tables. The room itself contained the crude, comfortable furniture found in the haunts of academics. Various devices were on shelves scattered on the edges of the room: an astrolabe, a sextant, and several other odd bits of metal unknown to Alfrahil but presumably used in astrology. An enormous map of the known constellations was on the far wall, depicting the night sky at midsummer. Desks had been hastily stacked upon one another, and a musty smell of books and scrolls filled the air.

  Grim-faced men circled amongst the guards, distributing fresh fruits, dried meats, and cheeses and bread, for there could be no cooking fires if they were to continue their deception that the tower was unoccupied. The servants all had a military bearing. Most of them were middle-aged, and many had visible scars, and a few with altered gaits, limping across the room showing the sacrifices their bodies had made in the service of the King. Alfrahil noted that many of them had a distant look about them, as if they were still reliving the struggles on some old battlefield.

  It was the older men who eventually suffered the worst, having to live with what they had seen and done in the service of the realm. Too many comrades lost in distant lands, too many times coming within an inch of death. Many times they had prayed for death to visit them and spare them their continued existence. Alfrahil wondered if enough was being done to aid these men who had given so much to Eldora. His brother stated not nearly enough was being done, but Daerahil was often rash in his judgments. Still, shaking his head, Alfrahil didn't know, and he added it to his list of things to discover. The last thing that was needed was for these veterans to feel that they and their sacrifices were both unappreciated and unneeded.

  As Alfrahil and Mergin stepped completely into the room, a quick command was given by the senior captain. Alfrahil returned their salute as crisply as his wounds would allow and bade them return to their former positions.