by Sam Ferguson
Captain Vald turned the man over with his boot and looked down at him. “A one man army then?” Vald asked.
Goron laughed.
The man on the ground coughed and blinked his eyes open. Vald could see that he had been dragged for a while. His clothes were ripped and sand was embedded in small cuts and scrapes along the man’s skin. His dark hair was messed up and filled with sand and grit. He groaned and moved his leg, slowly planting his left heel on the ground.
“What is your name?” Vald asked.
“Kelden Ferryl,” the man replied breathlessly.
Vald nodded and nudged Kelden in the ribs with the point of his boot. “Have you come as a spy?”
Kelden grinned wide. “I am here to kill you,” he said.
Vald laughed and turned back to Goron. “Did you hear that? This man has come through the desert to kill me.” Vald turned back to Kelden and shook his head. “Who sent you? Or do madmen work alone in the deserts of Zinferth?” Kelden’s eyes rolled to the side and he groaned again. Vald nudged him sharply with the toe of his boot. “I asked you a question, assassin.”
Kelden’s eyes shot open and the man kicked his feet up over his head, then sprang from his back to flip onto his feet from the ground. He launched a savage kick to Vald’s groin. The officer fell to his knees and Kelden followed up with a savage kick to Vald’s face. Captain Vald’s nose broke out to the side and squirted blood onto the sand as the man went down.
The scout spurred his horse back, yanking Kelden to the ground.
Goron leapt down from his horse, drew his sword, and stepped on Kelden’s back.
“Wait,” Vald called out as he pushed up from the ground.
Goron pressed the point of his blade into the back of Kelden’s neck so that it depressed the skin but did not tear it. “Give me a reason, cur, and I will spill your blood right here.”
Vald moved in and gestured for the scout to hold still and pushed Goron back. He knelt beside Kelden and looked into the man’s fierce eyes. “You seriously thought you could come here and kill me?”
Kelden spat into the sand in front of his face as he glowered at Vald. “Let me up again, and I will finish the job.”
“Who sent you?” Vald asked. “Did the queen send you?”
Kelden closed his mouth and remained silent.
“Let me kill him,” Goron said. “We have men charging the wall. Who cares about one spy?”
Vald shook his head. “Tie him up and keep an eye on him. When Kobhir falls, I want this man there to see it.” Vald dusted himself off and then wiped the blood from his nose. “Goron, sound the second charge, then order the third charge to follow me,” Vald commanded.
The scout urged his horse back toward the tents, dragging Kelden behind.
Goron blew two short blasts of the bugle. Several thousand men charged the west gate to join the first wave of troops that were already embattled. Then Goron waved to the men behind him and the captain. “All of you, stay close on Captain Vald, he’ll lead the charge.”
Vald sprang to his horse and led the men south. The sounds of thousands of hooves pounding the desert filled the air and nearly drowned out the sound of clashing swords and screaming men. As Vald and his men joined the battle, he lashed out with his sword and took half a head from a Zinferthian soldier. Another swing and he cut the arm from a second man. The soldier howled in pain and stumbled backward into Goron’s finishing sweep of a mighty, spiked mace. Metal, bone, flesh, and horses all collided to create a tumult that painted the sands crimson. Screams of pain were accompanied by the stench of blood and howls of death as men were cut down from the plane of the living.
Vald and his lieutenant pressed on into the enemy, hacking slashing and bashing their way through every foe that dared stand in their path. “We must make the eastern gate!” Vald yelled.
Goron smashed the back of an enemy’s helmet with his mace so hard that the man’s head popped off his body and flew over the melee like a stone. The sight stunned a nearby soldier so much that he forgot to fight and instead watched the head fly. Goron seized the opening and brought his mace down on the spectator’s collar bone. The weight of the blow forced the man to the ground, but he was not dead. He lashed out with a counterstroke of his own and stuck his sword through Goron’s leg and into the horse’s body. Goron cried out in pain as the horse reared and bucked. The enemy soldier let go of his sword, leaving it to pin the lieutenant to his crazed mount.
Within moments, Goron was thrown from his saddle. The sword had torn clean through his flesh until it was free of him. He hit the ground with a heavy thud and lost his breath. A trio of Zinferth spearmen all pierced his chest at the same time before he could utter any sound.
“Goron!” Vald yelled over the din of swords and shields. He charged through the turmoil around him, trampling down one warrior that was unlucky enough to stand in front of him. He leapt down from his horse and engaged the three spearmen. Vald cut two of the spears in half with a single sweep of his sword. The third spearman rushed in, but Vald turned and slashed the man’s throat before the warrior could level the spear at him effectively. Vald reached out with his left hand and ripped the spear from the dead man. He turned on the other two and lashed out with both weapon simultaneously. His sword pierced one soldier through the heart, and the spear stabbed through the other’s stomach.
Vald released the spear and then used both hands to wrench his sword free. His knights and soldiers were pushing the Zinferthians back and away, giving Vald a moment to mourn his fallen comrade. Vald knelt down and closed Goron’s eyes. “I will pray to Nage for you,” he promised. The he quickly stuffed down the sorrow and replaced it with rage. He rose to his feet and charged the first enemy he saw. Vald came in with a high, overhead swing. The Zinferth warrior lifted a shield and deflected the blow easily before launching a counter swipe. Vald ducked under the sword and then stabbed out with two super quick jabs of his sword. Both stabs struck the warrior in the thigh, but the wounds were only superficial.
The Zinferthian rushed forward with the shield and slammed into Vald, throwing him backward to land on his rump. Captain Vald barely had time to raise his sword and block the warrior’s next attack. The two swords rang out loudly as they connected. Vald’s forearms ached under the force of the blow, but he pushed the attack from a seated position. He kicked out with his right leg and slammed hard into the warrior’s knee. The joint snapped and then popped out to the side. The warrior crumpled to the ground, and Vald finished him off with a quick hack of his sword.
Vald reached over and snatched the shield from his dead foe before jumping up to his feet. He looked around for his next victim, but he found none. He looked up and saw that his men were now forcing the enemy to retreat through the gateway. Vald smiled. “Alright men, let’s move on to that gate!”
Within the space of two hours’ time, Kobhir fell to Captain Vald and his men.
CHAPTER 23
Kai, Seldaric, Garfule, and the other elves all received strange looks as they walked into the streets of Tantine. The sun had not yet risen in the east, but there were a lot of elves running about on the western side of town. Kai pulled his hood over his head as he passed through the crowd. The others did the same to avoid the strange stares. A guard called out to them and ordered them to halt. He and a few others marched over in a hurry and demanded to know the identity of each group member.
“I am Garfule Delamorray, of the house Bandarion, on assignment from the High Council of Selemet. Here is the writ from the council.” He produced the writ of execution and handed it over for inspection by the guardsmen.
“Forgive us, Enforcer,” the guard said as he handed the writ back. “We have recently had a murder in that tavern over there.” The guard pointed across the street to a shabby, wooden building. “The whole place is torn up, and the barkeep was not just killed, but mutilated for fun by the looks of things. We have been questioning everyone.”
“Mutilation is our target’s spec
ialty,” Seldaric put in.
“Were there any witnesses?” Garfule asked.
“The tavern wench was the one who alerted the guard, but she won’t talk to anyone,” the guard replied.
“I would like to question her,” Garfule said.
The guard whistled to a pair of other guards standing by a short, female elf. “Her name is Hretta, but besides that she has only told us that someone killed the barkeep. She hasn’t answered any of our questions.”
Garfule nodded and watched the pair of guards escort the tavern wench to them. “She is a Nizhni’Tai,” he commented.
“She is,” the guard confirmed.
Garfule sent the guards away once the short elf stood before him. “I need to know everything you can tell me about the man who murdered the barkeep,” Garfule began. “We are looking for a very dangerous assassin. He has killed in Medlas, Bluewater, and Telshir. We believe that he may be the same man who was in the tavern tonight. Can you describe him?”
She said nothing.
“Hretta,” Garfule continued. “We can protect you. We are from the High Council of Selemet. We can help, but only if you help us.”
“Is he from the council?” Hretta asked, pointing at Kai.
“No,” Garfule said. The contempt he held for Kai was obvious in his voice. “The council does not employ humans. He is an agent of the Svetli’Tai Kruks.”
“I will only talk to him,” she said decidedly. Her short arms crossed over her chest and she stared at Garfule, hard. “Only him,” she repeated.
Garfule stood still and looked at Kai. He was about to say something, but then seemed to think better of it and instead simply shook his head and stepped aside, motioning to the others to back away and provide the pair some space.
Kai walked up to Hretta and offered his hand, “I’m Kai,” he said.
“I’m Hretta,” she replied with a faint smile as she looked over the red tattoo on his hand.
“Can you describe the murderer?” Kai asked.
“I can, bend down and I’ll tell you everything I know,” she promised. Kai bent down and Hretta pressed right up to his ear and whispered. She told him about Nimby and her husband working together to rob patrons, about the stranger who came in with the expensive ring and incredible sword, and she told him where to find Nimby’s house.” When she was done she gave him a kiss on the check and backed away shyly.
“What was that for?” Kai asked.
“Elves have never treated me kindly,” she said. “I’m not really a Nizhni’Tai. I was born small, and never grew much, but I am a Svetli’Tai through and through. My father and mother abandoned me because they were ashamed of me. The Nizhni’Tai never accepted me either, because I wasn’t really one of them. Even my husband treated me like a dog. All I was good for was chores. That’s no way to treat somebody.”
“No, it isn’t,” Kai agreed.
“Even out of the five of you, you were the only one polite enough to introduce yourself and shake my hand.” She smiled at Kai then. “Humans were the only beings to ever treat me nice when they came into the tavern. The elves are all like him.” She thumbed at Garfule. “They all think so much of themselves, and so little of anyone who is different.”
Garfule’s brow went up and he shot a glance to Kai.
Kai smiled and stifled a laugh. “Thank you for your help, Hretta,” Kai said sincerely. “We must be going now if we are to catch the murderer.” Then he motioned for the others to follow him.
“May the gods bless you,” Hretta called out after them.
“She probably only meant the blessing for you,” Garfule jested.
Kai shrugged. “Well, you didn’t make such a good impression on me when we first met either,” Kai poked back matter-of-factly.
After the group was far enough away that Hretta couldn’t see them, Kai signaled for the group to halt. “Hretta told me that the murderer most likely has gone after a thief named Nimby. His house is just down this street.” Kai pointed at the building that stood where Hretta had told him. “He should be inside with three or four other thieves. She thinks that she overheard Nimby and her husband, the barkeep, talking about moving some stolen goods this morning.”
“The assassin, no doubt, will have already extracted the same information from the barkeep before killing him,” Seldaric put in.
“Did she say how many entrances the house has?” Garfule asked.
“No.” Kai shook his head. “She said she had never been to the house herself. She had only heard of its location when she listened in on a few conversations that the barkeep had had with others. She is certain that this is the house though.”
“It’s better than nothing, I suppose,” Garfule said. “Wendel, scout out the house and ascertain the number of exits and entrances. Also, let us know of any commotion inside, and how many we may expect to find in the building.”
“As you say,” Wendel replied. Kai realized that it was the first time that Wendel had spoken since leaving Telshir.
“Lendorian, you go around and position yourself to watch the front door. If anyone comes out, you stop them by any means necessary,” Garfule ordered.
“As you say,” Lendorian replied. The two elves sprinted away with such speed that Kai was hard pressed to follow their movements more than a few yards before they seemed to disappear into the waning darkness of the coming dawn.
“I should like to take a position closer to the house,” Seldaric said. “We should be close on hand in case things get ugly.”
“Never mind about that, those two are the finest warriors I have ever seen,” Garfule replied.
“Still, under the circumstances, we should take all precautions,” Seldaric pressed.
Garfule turned to look at Seldaric. He studied him for a few moments before nodding his head. “Very well, let’s take up a position near that house there, opposite Nimby’s.”
The three of them rushed into position and melted away into the shadows. They waited for a few moments. Nothing happened. No sounds came from the house. No lights were on. Nothing. Worst of all, Wendel had not returned from his assignment.
“Perhaps we should go in and take a look for ourselves,” Kai whispered. His fingers slid around the handle of his sword. “Wendel has been gone too long.”
“No, he’s alright,” Garfule replied. “If he is taking his time it is because he has good reason to do so.”
“Camel spit,” Kai cursed. “You elves do do things differently.” He stole a glance at Seldaric. Seldaric nodded. That was all the ex-ranger needed. Kai bounded across the street before Garfule could say anything about it.
He ran into a small space behind Nimby’s house and shimmied up the wall of the adjacent building like a squirrel taking to a great oak tree. Within seconds he was on the roof, looking around with a dagger in one hand and a sword in the other. Like before, there was nothing. No breeze, no sound, no smells, and no motion. He crept along the roof and took a good look around for Wendel. He could not see the elf anywhere. Slowly, he kept inching along the rooftop until he reached the opposite end of the building. He checked all around Nimby’s house, but again there was nothing. He shook his head and looked down to the ground below him. There was a body there.
Kai dropped to a prone position and strained his eyes in the darkness. Then he saw the telltale single plait of Wendel’s golden hair. The elf was lying face down in the dirt, motionless. Kai acted fast. He crawled back to the other side of the building and took aim with his dagger. He didn’t want to risk giving away his position by yelling or waving his arm, so he threw his dagger at the dirt in front of Garfule. The blade spun end over end as silently as a snow drop, but it did the trick.
Garfule’s head popped up out of the shadows. Even from across the street Kai could see the menacing look on the elf’s face. The ex-ranger waved once to them and turned back to crawl again to the other side. He trusted that Seldaric would know what to do, and he was right. He had scarcely reached the edge of the roof
when Seldaric and Garfule ascended the wall of the building and ran swiftly, yet silently, to join him. The two dove down, one on either side of him, and peered over the edge to where Kai was pointing.
“By the gods,” Garfule exclaimed in a whisper. He glanced around checking for enemies before dropping down from the roof to check on Wendel. Seldaric rose into a crouch and took a defensive position to keep watch. Kai patted Seldaric’s back and slithered over the edge to protect Garfule’s back.
“Is he hurt badly?” Kai whispered.
“Nothing that a good poultice won’t fix,” Garfule replied. “He caught a crossbow bolt in the right knee. I think the injury must have caught him off balance and caused him to fall and hit his head. There is an abrasion on his forehead, but he’s breathing.”
“Should I go for Lendorian?” Kai inquired.
“No, I have stopped the bleeding. Besides, there is no time. We need to storm the house now.” Garfule dragged Wendel to rest up against the wall of the building, hoping that would keep him safe.
Kai nodded. “This assassin is the best I have ever seen, and I have seen plenty of his type.” Kai rose to his feet and looked up to Seldaric. “Pssssst!” Kai pointed to the house and Seldaric nodded. “Alright, let’s go. If we go in the back, maybe we can flush him out to Lendorian.”
“Good idea,” Garfule agreed.
“I saw a window, follow me,” Kai said. He broke out into a dead sprint. Stealth was cast away for speed and surprise. He shattered the glass with the pommel of his sword and ducked down. Seldaric dove from the roof of the other building, catching himself on the awning and sailing in through the broken window. Next, Garfule jumped into Kai’s waiting hands and was tossed through the opening. Kai was the last to scramble inside. His entry was not nearly as graceful as the elves’, but it got him inside with minimal scratches from the shattered glass.
The room was small, a bedchamber with one cot, a chamber pot, and a small wooden stool. The three of them pressed on and swung the door open wide. They all ducked aside as an axe bit into the door frame. Wood shavings flew everywhere as the heavy weapon embedded itself deeply in the wood. The big man who had sent the axe flying was forced to let go of the handle and pull out a pair of short scimitars. Garfule was the quickest to respond to the threat. He lashed out with a long, curved knife and slashed the man’s abdomen. A flick of his scimitar ended the threat, and the man fell backwards to lie in his own blood.
