Chronicles Of Aronshae (3 Book Omnibus)

by J. K. Barber

  Jared looked up at Katya. The young sorceress relaxed the arm holding her staff and placed the index finger of her other hand over her mouth, indicating to the hunter to be quiet. There was a calm to the raven-haired young woman completely in contrast to the fact that she had just killed a man with a gesture and a few whispered words. However, beneath her composure the hunter thought he detected a repressed look of surprise. The woodsman had to remind himself that the woman standing before him was a sorceress trained for battle against creatures of inhuman strength and resilience, despite the fact that she had yet to see her twentieth winter. Jared looked at her warily, stood up, took a few steps and then lowered his head so that his ear was close to her mouth.

  “There’s a couple more in here with us,” she whispered as she began looking up and down the aisle. Solid in the middle with recesses on either side for the shop’s wares, it was impossible to look through the shelves to see anything on the other side. All the pair could see where the ends of the aisles. “I saw him slip around the end of the shelf,” Katya said, indicating the dead man on the floor with a nod of her head. “His steps were too careful to be just a patron, so I came around the other way to see if you were well. Good thing I did. Another few steps and he would have had that dagger at your throat.”

  Jared was grateful, if a bit shaken, both by how the man had gotten the drop on him and also the manner of his demise. He wanted to talk about the would-be killer’s death, but now was obviously not the time. “How do you know there are more of them?” the hunter asked, peaking around the end of the shelf.

  In response, Katya gestured towards the top of the tall shelf with her staff. Jared looked up and saw a small figure gesticulating wildly. Niko was holding up four tiny fingers and pointing all around the shop. Jared took the directions to mean that the Nhyme was indicating the positions of their assailants. There were two by the front door, another by the door leading into the back room, and the last was near where they had seen the shop’s owner when Jared and Katya had first entered.

  The hunter’s thoughts turned to the nice elderly Eastern woman who had greeted them so kindly. Jared wondered if she still lived.

  No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than he heard a male voice call from the front of the store. “We know you’re still back there,” the man yelled, his tone calm and his volume only raised so that his words would be heard throughout the shop. “There is little point in trying to hide from us. Come out here where we can see you, and we promise your deaths will be quick and painless.” The man’s tenor was confident without being cocky, but there was something else to the words that caught Jared’s ear. They were very carefully spoken, well-articulated but they seemed unnatural to the speaker’s tongue. Jared looked down at the dead man on the floor. The man was unremarkable, wearing nondescript clothes and carrying nothing that would attract the attention of someone who simply gave the man a passing glance. Jared pulled the confiscated dagger from his belt and looked down at the curved blade. It was not a typical dagger, but there was nothing so remarkable about the weapon that it would cause the eye to linger upon it. Setting aside the matter, he replaced the dagger in his belt.

  “Your time is limited,” the man called out again. “You can make this hard on yourselves or you can make it easy, but make no mistake,” he said, his voice still full of confidence, “you will die.” Jared began to hate that voice and the man who spoke it. “It is simply up to you,” the man continued, “whether others have to die as well.” Jared’s eyes darted to Katya, the same shock he felt registering on her face. “We have the shopkeeper. Her blood will join yours on the floor if you do not come out quickly.” Katya turned to look at Jared, her face a mask of worry. She was just as concerned about the aged woman as he was. Jared’s hand went to the sword across his back, but the sorceress stalled him with a raised hand a shake of her head. Ignoring her motions, he slipped the sword silently from the sheath and took a step to the side, intending to go around the young woman if necessary.

  Again Katya stopped Jared, this time with a hand on his chest and a quiet whisper. “Going out there without knowing what we face is suicide,” the sorceress said, her voice calm. However, Jared could see the war that struggled behind her eyes.

  “And if we stay here, they’ll kill her,” Jared inclined his head towards the front of the shop, indicating the hostage.

  “Which they will likely do anyway, once they have killed us,” Katya replied, her voice stern and her hand still steady on Jared’s chest. “I would like to see if we can stall them for a bit, give Niko a chance to sneak out of here and go to the ship for help.”

  “They won’t give us that kind of time,” the woodsman answered, angry, though he could see the logic in the plan. “Besides, these men aren’t what you think they are.”

  A confused look crossed Katya’s face. “What do you mean?” the young sorceress asked, dropping her hand from Jared’s chest.

  In response, the hunter knelt next to the body on the floor, licked his thumb and rubbed it across the dead assassin’s chin. The painted-on stubble was quickly wiped away, revealing smoother, darker skin beneath. Not the coal back skin of Queen Xavia, but definitely several shades darker than the skin of your average citizen of Illyander. Katya’s eyes widened in surprise at the revelation. Jared again stood, retrieving the man’s curved blade as he did and showing it to Katya. “These men are Easterners,” he whispered. “Listen to the man’s voice; it has no accent at all. Every speaker of Illyander has an accent, no matter how subtle, that betrays what part of the kingdom they’re from.” Jared continued, seeing that the origin of the men trying to kill them meant nothing to Katya. “From what I know, these men, though they are assassins, may also be men of their word. There is every chance they…”

  Jared’s words were cut off as Katya’s eyes were ripped from the hunter’s face to the tiny Nhyme on the bookshelf above them. Following her gaze, Jared looked to see Niko in obvious distress. The diminutive young man had his hand over his mouth to keep from calling out and his wide eyes now looked down to them, instead of towards the front of the shop. The sickening thump of flesh hitting wooden planks could be heard throughout the silent herbalist shop.

  “What a shame,” the male voice called again from the front. “You have taken too much time to decide and it has cost this poor shopkeeper her life. Perhaps in your next life you will be more concerned with the lives of others.”

  Jared’s chest filled with rage as he shouldered his way past the sorceress and turned the corner around the tall shelf, heading towards the front of the store. Katya offered little resistance as the hunter slipped the assassin’s blade into the back of his belt and took his own curved sword in both hands, knuckles whitening around the hilt. Jared strode along the far wall of the shop, passing the aisles until he rounded the last shelf and stepped out into the bare area of floor between the shelves and the store’s counter. As Jared expected, the small still form of the Eastern woman lay on the shop’s floor, her throat cut and her life’s blood mingling with what little dirt there was on the wooden planks. The elderly woman had kept a neat store and Jared said a brief prayer of mourning for the dead.

  “Ah,” the man standing in front of the counter said, his stance tensing as Jared rounded the corner. The hunter recognized the voice as the same that had been speaking to them. A quick scan showed a man standing near the front door and another standing behind the counter, next to the door that Jared presumed led to the back of the shop. As Jared came to a stop, bending his knees slightly and raising his sword before him, the assassin behind the counter hopped deftly up on to the counter and stepped down onto the floor, his movement graceful but unhurried. Jared took a couple of steps sideways, putting the wooden shelf full of fresh herbs at his back. Most of the men in the room drew a pair of curved daggers from within the folds of their clothes, perfect matches to the one that Jared had taken from the man that had died earlier. The speaker held only a single blade, a curved dagger he h
ad used to open the shopkeeper’s throat, already in his hand and wet with red blood. Jared looked at the men around him, noticing the way they stood. They were relaxed and yet ready for combat at the same time, their weight resting on the balls of their feet without leaning forward. As for the men themselves, they were all from the same mold as the assassin that had been dispatched earlier. The men were all of average height. They all had tanned skin, even if Jared knew that to be a trick of makeup and wore clothing that would blend in easily in any place they went in Valshet. The curved blades rested easily in the men’s hands, speaking of their familiarity with the weapons. Jared immediately began to regret his decision to rush from his hiding place behind the rows of tall wooden shelves.

  “So, I see you decided to show yourself,” the man with the blood covered dagger said, a small smile showing as he turned sideways to face Jared. The mouthpiece of the small band of assassins did not fully adopt a fighting stance, but his posture made it quite clear that he was prepared for Jared, should the hunter choose to attack. A slight smugness crept into the man’s voice as he continued. “Now only the question remains: do you intend to make this clean or messy?”

  “Oh, it’s going to be messy,” Katya answered as she stepped out from behind the last shelf, staff pointed at the man by the front door. Lightning arced from the tip of the sorceress’ rune-carved wooden staff to the assailant. A loud clap of thunder, followed quickly by the sound of shattering glass, filled the room as the man was hurled through the shop’s front window into the street. A small shape darted from over Jared’s head out through the now broken window.

  The hunter spared a quick look to Katya, a small smile crossing both their lips. Unfortunately, the sorceress’ grin was replaced by open-mouthed shock as she was flung forward, the booted foot of the last hidden assassin striking her in the small of the back, causing her to stumble heavily forward. The man who had hopped the counter earlier crouched and nimbly turned to face the oncoming woman and then struck out with his left foot. Spinning on the ball of his right, he brought his back foot in an arcing path that drove his heel into the side of Katya’s head. The sorceress grunted in pain and fell to the floor, driven by the force of the blow to land next to Jared. The hunter mentally cursed. He had underestimated these men and it had cost the shopkeeper her life. It might also cost Katya and him their lives as well.

  To her credit, however, the sorceress was still conscious and used her staff to lever herself to her feet. Though obviously still dazed by the blow to her head, Katya managed to take up position beside Jared and guard his left side with her staff, while keeping the hunter to her right. The woodsman mentally thanked the training the young woman had received in Snowhaven and hoped her experience fighting as a warrior-sorcerer pair would serve both of them well.

  The assassins’ leader reached into his shirt with his left hand and lashed out with the speed of a striking snake. Jared immediately brought his sword up before his eyes in an attempt to block whatever it was the man threw at him, and the hunter saw Katya groggily do the same with her staff. Neither need have bothered though, the intended target was far above their heads. Jared heard the sound of breaking glass as shards of shattered jars rained down on them from above; both the woodsman and the young sorceress ducked their heads to avoid getting cut by the razor sharp fragments.

  This was all the opening the assassins needed. As one they leapt forward. Jared barely raised his sword in time to parry a slash from a dagger that was thrust at him with blinding speed, only to take a cut across his right shoulder. The man who had kicked Katya in the back had gone around the shelf behind Jared and rounded the corner just in time to take advantage of the hunter’s sword being engaged with the assassin in front of him. Katya struck with the butt of her staff over Jared’s right shoulder, a small spark of lightning driving the man back. Though the power behind the spell was but a small fraction of the bolt that had flung the one man out the window, it was still enough to drive the man back, allowing Jared time to recover. The gesture cost the sorceress however, as the man to her left darted in and out, leaving a pair of deep cuts, one on the sorceress’ arm and another across her cheek. Jared heard Katya cry out in pain, but she recovered quickly, swiftly turning to her right and swinging her staff in a sweeping arc aimed squarely at the head of the man who had cut her. Unfortunately, the assassin was too fast and had already danced back out of the sorceress’ reach. Jared barely had time to appreciate the skill of either combatant before pain bloomed in chest and again in his shoulder. He spared a quick glance down and saw small black spikes, the length of his hand and half the width of an arrow’s shaft, sticking from his flesh; two had struck him in the chest and a third protruded from his already wounded shoulder. The hunter looked up at the man directly in front of him, the one who had done all the speaking earlier, who was reaching into his shirt again near his waist.

  “Katya, look out!” Jared cried, but the warning came too late. The murderer’s left hand flashed out again and the woodsman heard more than saw a trio of black spikes buzz past his ear. The sorceress cried out in pain, but Jared couldn’t spare any of his attention to see if she was alright as the three remaining assassins closed in to press their advantage.

  Katya’s cry of pain turned into a howl of rage as she growled into Jared’s ear, “Duck!”

  Trusting whatever it was the young sorceress had in mind, Jared dropped to one knee, keeping his attention on the man before him as best he could. Katya grunted a short string of arcane syllables and swung her staff in a wide arc over the hunter’s head. Jared felt a handful of hairs on his head rise and his skin tingle. Blue-white light filled the store as a wave of eldritch force struck each of the three men in turn, sending them tumbling back. The reprieve was only temporary however, as each attacker rolled with the impact, nimbly turning the fall into a somersault and leaping dexterously back to their feet.

  Jared took a moment to catch his breath and looked around the room hastily, searching for anything that would help them survive the fight with the assassins who had them cornered. He looked out the broken front window, but found no aid there. The hunter heard the retreating yells and screams of those who had been outside the herbalist’s store when Katya had sent the man flying through the glass. Any help from the town guard would arrive too late. To make matters worse, Jared felt burning under his skin where the slender projectiles had pierced it. Poison, the hunter thought. We need to get out of here, right now!

  “Katya,” Jared said lowly, hoping the three men attacking them wouldn’t hear his words, but fearing more that the sorceress at his side wouldn’t. “Follow my lead, and whatever you do, don’t stop running.” The woodsman spared a glance over his shoulder and Katya nodded her consent.

  Saying a quick prayer in his head, asking for the Great Mother to watch over them, Jared took a deep breath and swung out wide with his sword, holding it in his right hand. The approaching attacker to his right ducked under the blade easily, as Jared guessed he would. The hunter had not been aiming at the man though. Glass jars smashed and crystalline shrapnel sprayed out from the shelf. As Jared had hoped, the man brought his hands up to shield his face and eyes from the flying glass. Jared rushed forward, driving the pommel of his sword into the man’s forehead just as the Easterner in disguise lowered his hands. The man staggered backwards and Jared drove his shoulder into the man’s chest as he lunged forward towards the shop’s broken window. Behind him he heard Katya call out and the woodsman felt the familiar tingle of electricity play across his skin. He heard the sound of wood being blasted apart and a hail of splinters pelted his back. Shouts of pain and then anger followed them as they sprinted towards the open street. Only the open frame of the window stood between them and the chance that they might live another day.

  Far too slowly in the hunter’s mind, Jared made his way to the gaping hole in the front of the store and then stopped, turning to catch Katya as she ran towards him. The woodsman could see the shocked look on the sorceress�
�� face as she tried to bring herself up short to avoid smashing into him, but she began sliding on the broken glass, her forward momentum carrying her into an inevitable collision with Jared. The hunter had counted on such an impact. He reached out with his left hand, grabbed the front of the sorceress’ robe and pivoted, using her momentum and a thrust of his legs to use his hip as a fulcrum, propelling Katya up and through the window into the street outside.

  Jared turned to face his attackers who were still reeling from Katya’s attack as she had retreated. Smoldering chunks of floorboard lay about the far half of the room and a ragged gash about twenty paces long ran across the floor of the shop between Jared and the store’s counter. Two of the men rose from behind the counter, apparently having dived there for cover and the man Jared had struck in the face staggered forward, shaking his head and trying to cover the handful of steps between himself and the hunter. Jared looked at the frail body of the Eastern woman, her still form lying where one of the assassins had so callously let it fall; her blood staining the floor of the shop that Jared guessed had taken the poor woman a lifetime to build. The hunter reached to his belt, in one swift motion drawing and throwing his dagger in an underhand motion at the murderer staggering towards him. Seeing the blade drive deep into the man’s stomach, Jared allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction as he clambered out the window. The hunter cursed, cutting his hands on the glass that remained in the bottom frame of the window. His shoulder and chest were now burning where the poisoned darts had struck him. His thoughts raced with the implications of whatever substance might be coursing through his veins at that moment. As if in answer, Jared felt the impact of another spike in the small of his back and heard a second strike the wooden window frame. The hunter threw himself forward, gracelessly falling through the window and landing on his back on the hard cobblestones of the street. The force of the landing drove the projectile in his back further in.