by F. E. Hubert
you, I was worried.”
After a moment he loosened her hold on his neck, taking in her outfit. A wide belt of hardened leather hugged her middle, leading down to a point between her hips. A collar of the same leather covered her neck and the top of her shoulders. Matching bands on each upper leg covered the soft spots there. It would easily deflect a knife-thrust or -throw to any of the main arteries.
The sections between the leather were made from a dark, supple material that would allow easy movement. Her cape had a deep hood that would hide her features behind the murky brown and grey of the fabric. It was assassin’s wear if he ever saw it.
“I’m starting to seriously wonder about your life before you came to the high desert.”
“I could tell you,” Her ice-blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “But I’d have to kill you.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that,” He pulled her close, breathing in her smell. “But now I’m starting to believe you.”
She laughed, pulling out of his embrace and making the dagger disappear in a flash too fast for him to be sure where it went.
“Ahem.”
“Sorry,” Rheena said with a grin at his hip. “I’m glad to see you too.”
“That’s all lovely, but we have more urgent matters at hand.”
Mufroen still clutched the sheet of instructions, he handed them over to Rheena.
“We had an interesting night,” He pointed at the note. “Got some new work out of it, and I was kind of hoping you would tell me what it says.” He tried not to be offended by the look she shared with the sword.
After a moment mouthing words in silence, she burst out laughing. He raised one of his dark eyebrows, waiting for her to share the merriment.
“Let me see that,” She held the text open for sword to read. “Ah… That is going to be tricky, yes.”
“Anyone care to tell me?” Mufroen asked, rocking on the balls of his feet to express his impatience to know what it was that he would have to do.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if you could read it for yourself?” The sword asked sweetly.
“Whoever thought this up is smart,” Rheena folded the leather closed and tapped his chest with it. “And completely insane. It can’t be done.”
Getting the box
The City’s keep was part of the ancient bulwark that still enclosed the oldest parts of the city. Other than this part, the outer walls had been rebuilt every time the city grew out of its skin, leaving a pattern much like tree rings in the city’s architecture.
The keep was still in use and kept in good repair. The large fortress was an impressive sight with walls easily twice as high as the ones that ringed the city. Spear tips moving above the crenulations at regular intervals were all Mufroen could see of the guards patrolling.
“I’m glad we’re taking the alternative route, you could hold this fort forever.” He said. They stood a distance from the walls, in the shade of one of the large mulberries that lined the boulevard to this side of the keep. His arms crossed loosely over his chest, he looked up at the monstrous building.
“Well, not if whoever’s attacking knows what kind of Lexian cheese this city’s apparently built on,” The sword harrumphed. “It’s a miracle this keep isn’t robbed on a daily basis.”
“Somehow, I doubt getting in is going to be all that easy,” He cocked an eyebrow down at his hip.
“Well,” Rheena sounded distracted, pulled from studying the keep and into their conversation. “Most places have one or two unguarded entrances, simply because no one knows about them. Or, because everyone knows about them.” Her lips pulled up in a broad smile, leaving dimples in her cheeks.
He smiled at her good cheer, and certainly did not ask how she would know something like that. Their little encounter earlier, when she almost speared him on her knife when he walked in the room, led him to reconsider what he thought he knew about her.
He glanced sideways at the warrior-outfit she was wearing. If he didn’t know better, he might mistake her for a Silizian. Their women were infamous, rumoured to be able to match any man in a fight, but he was pretty sure the story also told that they were dark as the night, not blonde and cream like the woman beside him.
“They put the box in the vault, next to the jewels, gold and the gods-know what kinds of other treasures,” He resumed his conversation with the sword. “They might lock those behind more than a token door, don’t you think?”
“Pessimist.”
“Realist. Never let me down yet.”
The sword snorted.
“Boys,” Rheena’s chuckle was rich with amusement and the thrill of anticipation. “Save it for inside?”
Despite the obvious objection of predictability, they decided to wait until dark. It was unlikely anyone at the keep noticed that a box had been added to their collection, so they certainly wouldn’t be expecting anyone to come for it. At least, that was the idea.
“Please, let’s not get lost down here, all this damp makes my blade itch.”
“Don’t worry about your blade, I’ll oil it down once we’re back at the inn,” Mufroen said in a low voice. “Just keep your eye on those little snakes,” He pointed at the sign on the wall that looked like a loose coil.
They’d gone back into the vast tunnel system under the city at the entrance the instructions described. The grate lifted out of the wall easily, its edges freshly oiled, probably when someone came this way to stow the box. Now they made their way through the damp, cavernous tunnels.
Rheena looked about as uncomfortable as he felt, glancing over her shoulder every second step. The sound of their feet against the stones echoed away in waves, making it sound like a shadow army was following at their heels.
The small circles of light coming from their lamps did little to illuminate their surroundings and after a short while, in silent agreement, they doused their flames. It didn’t take long for his eyes to get used to the low light, enough to distinguish their path and the outlines of the walls, darker shadows in the murk.
“Looks like this is it,” Rheena whispered, peering down at the scrap of leather in her hands, then up at the signs on the wall. “This should lead us right up to the vault.”
Mufroen loosened the sword in his scabbard, then positioned himself to push up the heavy plate covering the tunnel entrance and see where it led them. Only a few centimetres at first, ready to let it drop back, silently, if he spotted anyone near.
The hallway was empty.
He reached down to give Rheena a hand, but she already pulled herself out. Quickly, they slid the cover back over the hole to hide their entrance. A shred of red silk between the plate and its frame marked it for their return route. Except for the piece of cloth, it looked exactly like any of the other tiles that covered the floor. How many other entrances were hidden in the keep’s floors?
Rheena’s cape made her almost invisible in the shadows and he had to look twice to find her, a solid shadow at the entrance to the short cul-de-sac they were in. He joined her as she beckoned. The corridor was deserted, lit by sparse candles set in one wall. In the opposite wall he could see several dark rectangles, either doorways or corridors branching off. Rheena tugged his sleeve.
“This way.”
She walked silently and fast, without seeming to hurry. If they met anyone, they might not even notice that she was not supposed to be there, she looked so natural. He imitated her, ignoring the sword’s repressed snigger.
Rheena halted by a narrow stairwell leading up. She listened for a few moments before she started up. He could see the glint of the knife in her hand.
They made their way to another corridor, identical to the one before. They could hear the sound of voices coming closer, forcing them to wait at the top of the stairs. The shadows hid them, but the two armed guards come down the hall, walking in a bubble of bright light from their torches.
The light would blind them to anything in the shadows, but if either one of them happened to look into the stair
well at the moment it was inside the illuminated circle, they were sure to see them. It was too late to head back down, movement would alarm them for sure. Mufroen slowed his breath and bent his head forward, so that he could see what was happening in the hall from under his brows, without the gleam of his eyes give them away. Rheena crouched down low, too low to be spotted immediately if anyone glanced at them, but ready to jump out.
He could feel the slow, heavy thud of his heart. The edge of the light crept over the floor towards them.
The two guards were speaking in some heavy dialect that he couldn’t understand, but they seemed relaxed, not aware of the two figures hiding an arm’s length away. They would almost certainly raise an alarm as soon as they saw them, so he ran through ways of silencing both of them before they could shout. Rheena’s knife could take one down, he’d seen her knock birds out of the sky with a pebble, that left the other for him. Holding his breath, he waited for a surprised inhalation by one of the guards. It didn’t come. They passed, immersed in their conversation. He let out a sigh of relief.
“I could have taken them both, if—”
“Yes sword,” He hissed under his breath. “We know.”
“Quiet, both of you,” She held out her hand in a gesture that commanded silence, easing herself against the wall to look out. “Come on.” She disappeared around the corner. Mufroen frowned at his hip before he stepped out to follow. There were upsides to having a magic sword, but most of the time it just