Darkness Falls (Tales of the Wolf) (27 page)

Khlekluëllin shifted his gaze to the two strongholds situated between Elfholm and Krantos, Ebonhold and Deathhold.

Ebonhold was a fortress nearest Krantos. Built from the ruins of an old tower, its basalt walls gleamed in the darkness. From its strategic location, the Dark Alliance army could harass and delay anyone trying to reach the human stronghold of Krantos or traveling through the northern region of the Grasslands.

Deathhold kept the southern area of the Grasslands under its watchful eyes and iron fist. Built over the last eight years of brown stones, it was due north of Asylum and actually straddled the Draken River. There were rumors of a large slave camp in the region but none of his elven scouts had been able to locate it or if they had, able to return to tell anyone about it. Khlekluëllin lost one out of every three scouts that he sent to spy on the Dark Alliance Strongholds.

These fortresses allowed Lalith to completely control the lands not under her direct control. She had in effect, divided the lands of Terreth into smaller independent kingdoms. Not to say there was not a way to send aid to the allies of the League. It had just become more difficult and very costly.

Khlekluëllin flicked his eyes over to the lone marker on the eastern shore of the Crystal Sea. Lagash, home to the Dark Alliance navy and the only Dark Alliance fortress in the east. It was said to be impenetrable. Lalith had recruited nearly every pirate that sailed the seas and had them working for her. She also had hundreds of shipwrights building a new fleet for the Dark Alliance Navy. It would not be long before they controlled the shipping lanes also, which would limit the aid and number of troops the League could move around Terreth.

This was the point at which the three rulers found themselves in when a young elf rushed into the tent and dropped to one knee. “Pardon the intrusion sire but there is someone here to see you.”

Even after eight years, Khlekluëllin was uncomfortable with people kneeling before him especially those members of his old unit. “Arise Iauron.” Once the young warrior stood up, the Queen’s Regent gestured to the others in the room. “As you can tell, I’m extremely busy right now. Tell whoever it is to wait.”

Iauron shook his head. “Sire, I….I think you’ll want to take this meeting.”

Khlekluëllin was about to respond harshly to his subordinate when a bright white light seemed to float into the tent of its own accord. Seconds later, the light dimmed slightly but only enough for the inhabitants to see a huge snow-white unicorn.

* I will not wait Khlekluëllin Amarth, not for you or any other mortal.*

Khlekluëllin lowered his head. “I am sorry Aquilo,
Master of the Northern Wind and eldest son of Hyperion, I didn’t realize it was you.”

Aquilo’s huge horse head jerked up in surprise.
* I am surprised that you recognized me; your sister didn’t at first, although she did say that some of her teachers had relayed stories of me during some of her lessons.*

“I have spent many hours
poring over every story and legend of the last Godwar. Your exploits are well noted in those histories.”

Aquilo turned his attention to the dwarven king.
* Greetings Midach Bonecrusher, it has been a long time. *

The young king dwarf grinned. “Aye ya damn bronco, it’s about time you showed up.”

Aquilo’s head bobbed up and down in what they figured was laughter.
* I came when my father decreed for me to arrive, not a moment before nor a moment later.*

Grunk leaned forward onto the table. It creaked under the excess weight. “Then Hyperion sent you, why?”

Aquilo turned his head and horn toward the Cyclops.
* Ah, Grunk Nightslayer. I have watched your exploits from afar. You are much like your father or at least how he was at your age. I just pray you are stronger than he was.*

Grunk did not know how to take the unicorn’s statement. It was partly a compliment and to a certain extent an insult to his father’s memory. Of course, if this unicorn was who Khlekluëllin and Midach thought he was, then he could say whatever he wanted. Aquilo was basically a lesser god. As one of the personal messengers of the Trôika, he had vast power at his disposal and the ear of the Sun God if you believed the stories. Since Grunk was a devout follower of Gaul, he believed that this was truly Aquilo.

* My time here is brief. My father wanted me to warn you that the war is about to enter a new phase. The Dark Alliance has a new tool and the will to use it. Beware.*

Before any of the three rulers could ask a question, two circles of white light appeared underfoot of the Dwarven King and his guards and the Joten Jarl and his guards.

* Hold on, this may be a bit disorienting.*

There was a blinding flash of light and Khlekluëllin found that he was alone in the tent with the beautiful white unicorn. “What happened? Where did they go?”

* I transported them home so they could repel the imminent attack.*

“What attack?” Even as Khlekluëllin spoke those words, he heard the alarms.

The Elfholm was once again under attack.

Chapter 29

The first part of
their entry went as smooth as silk. The Sicárii had not really expected any resistance since they were entering the High Councilor’s private chamber from a balcony that was twenty stories up but you can never be certain. If the layouts that they had been supplied were correct, this particular balcony would open onto a private library that was across the hall to their target’s sleeping quarters.

According to those same reports, the High Councilor only had four guards in his personal residence, two at his door and the others at the main entrance one floor down. Gray smiled as the doors swung open quietly and easily. It was just as he had been taught; most people do not lock the upper doors to their residence. He figured it was overconfidence, complacency or just plain stupidity. Either way, it made their entry so much simpler.

As Gray stepped into the room, his smile quickly became a frown as the forms of a half dozen guards turned towards him and drew their swords. He did not have time to contemplate the fact that there were more guards in this one room than were supposedly in the whole residence because instead of thinking, he attacked.

The warriors assigned to guard the High Councilor of Asylum were all veteran soldiers but they were no match for the Sicárii. Soldiers are trained to stand and fight their enemies. To meet them head to head, unit versus unit. They were not trained or ready to face the deadly Sicárii.

Gray’s first move had been to leap forward but not directly toward the rising guards and definitely not at the soldier in the front. He sprang off to their left, rebounded off the nearest wall and tore into the rearmost soldier. His claws ripped through chainmail and flesh as if it nothing more than cotton. This strategy of attacking from an unconventional angle threw the soldiers into complete disarray. Before the soldiers could react effectively, the Shadow and Mouse were among them. The battle was short and bloody.

Unfortunately, it was also noisy and Gray heard more soldiers coming up the stairs and began barking orders. “Mouse hang back until the path is clear, then move to the target. Meatshield will cover you. Tiny and Curly, front and center…you are to draw their attention. Shadow and I have the flanks. Falcon and Scarlet pick your targets with care. Now, move!”

Without another word or hesitation, the Sicárii slid into positions and calmly waited. When the soldiers burst through the open door, the assassins attacked. Falcon began the assault by firing his bow and two soldiers fell silently. More guards rushed in and the rest of the Sicárii went to work.

They were outnumbered three to one but that did not matter to Gray and his friends, only completing the mission. Seeing her opening, Mouse tugged on Meatshield’s sleeve and rushed past the attacking guards. To his credit, the warrior stayed with her as they dodged the onrushing warriors. Their target was in the next room and that was where they were going, even if every soldier in the city lay in their path.

*    *    *   *    *

As Rjurik and Ronin burst through the doorway, they heard the fighting upstairs. For a split-second, the veteran dwarf was glad that he had relented when the old cadger had requested additional troops to guard him at night. At first he had thought the old politician was just grandstanding, trying to make himself look more important since an election was coming up. Considering that he was now under attack, maybe the old man had known something.

Without waiting, Rjurik sprinted up the stairs and ducked into the High Councilor’s room just in time to see a shadowy figure shove a dagger with a glowing purple stone on its hilt into the politician’s heart. Then, a large warrior in black studded leather armor and a full-face mask stepped in his path. The veteran dwarf did not slow down his charge but lowered his head and rammed the warrior in the midsection with his helmet.

Even as his enemy staggered backwards from the unexpected blow, Rjurik’s mind made the mental note that the Councilor’s two bodyguards were down and bleeding from several large gashes that probably came from this idiot’s sword. Rjurik knew the two guards. They were good but judging from their corpses and those in the next room, the attackers were better. But then, Rjurik wasn’t a novice warrior either.

The warrior in black recovered quickly and swung his sword reflectively. Unfortunately for him, his attack was at the normal height for fighting a human and it sailed harmlessly over the dwarf’s head. Rjurik capitalized on his opponent’s incompetence in fighting a dwarf and ran the bastard through.

Rjurik turned his attention to the other shadowy figure. He caught a glimpse of ivory skin, ebony hair and a shapely figure before she was on him. For the first time in decades, Rjurik found that he was on the defensive and had to give ground. The beautiful brunette was lightning fast and her flashing dagger slipped past his shield and guard too many times to count in the first few seconds of battle. He instinctively knew that it was only a matter of time before one of her attacks scored a telling blow. It was Ronin who saved him.

The monk had moved in silently and waited until the time was right to strike. Stepping in between the dwarf and the beautiful assassin, the small man blocked or evaded everything she threw at him whether it was a stab with her flashing daggers or the kicks she launched.

Rjurik was amazed at the level of skill displayed by both individuals.
While the brunette was nimble and quick, Ronin seemed to be moving in slow motion and without effort as he avoided her attacks. Rjurik’s head snapped around to look through the open doorway when the veteran dwarf heard a bestial growl a split second before a dark figure with piercing grey eyes under a shadow filled hood joined the fray.

Rjurik had to reconsider his earlier assessment of the beautiful assassin. She had been fast in comparison to him and probably the fallen soldiers but she seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace compared to the dark cowled assassin with the wicked claws.

Ronin had produced two strange looking clubs with a handles jutting out to one side and stepped up his defense. But now it looked as if the monk was working hard and actually a bit stressed. If that was not enough, a dark elf disengaged himself from the deep shadows of the room and landed not three feet away.

Rjurik ached from the numerous wounds he had already received and knew that he had lost a fair amount of blood but that was not going to stop him. Shifting his shield back into a combat position, he raised axe-hand and moved back into battle. “By the Hammer of Bromios, I’ll not be killed by the likes of you.”

The dark assassin with the claws looked up and barked out an odd command word.
“Exilion!”

The rest of the assassins hesitated for a split-second before disappearing into a puff of black smoke. The clawed assassin rolled away from Ronin, grabbed the purple stone from the dagger and jumped on top of the body of the warrior that Rjurik had killed and paused.

In that brief few seconds, the assassin with the claws made eye contact with the veteran dwarf. Even though Rjurik tried his best to study the attacker, he could only ever remember the piercing grey eyes poking out of the shadows that hid his face. There was a puff of smoke and the assassin was gone. So was the corpse of the warrior in black.

*    *    *   *    *

When Gray stepped out of the black smoke which was part of the magical portal the Sicárii used to return to the Bastion, his team was waiting. As he stood up, he triggered the hidden switch that caused his claws to retract back into the bracers and smiled.

“Mission accomplished. Good job everyone.” Gray handed the purple stone to Tamina. “You forgot something Mouse.”

Tamina blushed as she pocketed the soulstone. It would not have been good for them, and especially her, if they had left behind one of the
cantatis lapis.
“Thanks.”

“No worries.”

Galvorn glanced down at the body of Meatshield. “One day, they’ll make it to ten.”

Gray clapped his half-brother on the shoulder. “Doubtful but hope springs eternal. Maybe one day the Dôminus will give us one with a bit of common sense.”

Galvorn laughed. “Doubtful, the ones we get are only members of the Bellatör. It’s not like he assigns us one of the Vigil.”

“So true.” Gray shrugged. “Although he did last three, no…four missions with us.”

“That’s a new record.”

Tamina leaned forward and touched Gray on the arm. “Come on guys, the rest are waiting for us.”

The brothers nodded and followed the beautiful assassin into the hidden fortress of the Dark Alliance. They left the body of their former comrade in the dirt. They had done their part in bringing him back. Now, it was up to someone else to tend to the body. Even though the rest of the team was heading to the canteen, the three of them made their way through the winding passageways of the Bastion to the Quartermaster’s quarters.

When they were several turns away, all three of them fell silent and moved into the shadows. It had become a personal challenge for one of them to sneak up on Kâlikâ. No matter what trick they used, she always seemed to recognize them. If it were not for the solid black eyes, Gray would doubt that the old woman was blind.

This time was no different.

“Good morning Isengrim,” came Kâlikâ’s voice even before Gray stepped around the corner. “And tell Shadow and Mouse that they can come forward also.”

Gray stepped up to the window and shook his head. “One day, I will make it to this door before you realize it.”

“Maybe…one day but not today.” Kâlikâ laughed. “I understand that you have been busy this morning.”

Tamina pulled out the
animus lapis
and set it on the counter. “Mission accomplished.”

Kâlikâ grinned as she picked up the glittering stone that seemed to pulse with its own inner light. “That will please the Dark Lady. However, it will be the only good news she receives today.”

Galvorn cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean old lady?”

“Just what I said. Your team was the only successful one…well, the only one that returned.”

Galvorn pulled his shoulders back slightly. “And that is my mother’s fault?”

“Ah Shadow, ever the faithful son. She does not deserve your love or loyalty.” She held up a withered hand to forestall any retort the half dark-elf was about to unleash. “No offense intended Galvorn, you and I know the truth and let’s leave it at that.”

Galvorn considered saying something but held his tongue. After all, she was only echoing his thoughts.

Kâlikâ pulled out a new dagger and placed it on the counter. “Here is your new sicáe Mouse. Now hurry on, the Dôminus doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

That caught Gray’s attention. None of them had seen or had an audience with Kralm since they graduated from the Lüdüs. “What do you mean?”

“Oh? Didn’t I mention it? The
Dôminus has summoned you and your team.” She waved her hand at a half-empty hourglass. “You are supposed to be there before the sands run out.”

“Drek!” swore Gray.

Galvorn slapped his half-brother on the back. “I’ll get everyone together and we’ll meet you in the courtyard.” Before he bolted off, he winked at Gray and disappeared into the dark corridors.

Gray shrugged and turned away with Tamina in tow. They were barely out of sight of Kâlikâ’s quarters when Tamina stopped and pulled him down into a passion filled kiss. Gray’s hands explored her body even as he returned the kiss. At this moment, he wanted nothing more than to rip off Tamina’s clothes and take her to bed. But duty called and it would not be good for them to be late. They had been able to keep their relationship hidden from everyone by being cautious about their
liaisons. Although it seemed that Galvorn had figured it out but then, it would be hard for them to get anything past his half-brother.

Reluctantly Gray disengaged himself. “We best be going. We don’t want to be late.”

Tamina pouted and folded her arms across her ample chest. “I don’t want to go anywhere. I want some down time. We deserve it.”

“True, we do deserve some rest but when the Dôminus calls, we answer.” Gray fingered the silver beaded choker necklace they both wore as he spoke as a gentle reminder of what could happen to them if they dishonored their Dôminus. “After all, a slave’s job is never done.”

Tamina nodded and smoothed out the creases in her outfit and pulled her tergum back into place. “Come on. You made your point. And if we don’t get around others soon, I’ll lose control again but this time I’m going to rip your pants off and have my way with you. And there’s not a damn thing you could do to prevent it.”

Gray flashed his infamous crooked grin that unknowingly she her heart aflutter. “Don’t make a threat you’re not able to back up.”

Tamina’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she grinned. “It’s not a threat.”

Minutes later, the rest of the team joined them and they headed deeper into the underbelly of the Bastion. It was unusual for him to personally deal directly with a Sicárius after a mission especially an entire Aciës. Normally an Overlord handled the debriefings. Therefore, Gray knew that there was something special about this meeting.

Reaching the entrance to the Bastion, the Sicárii moved into a large round room with highly polished floors. Gray counted fifteen warriors of the Vigil present. All armed with an assortment of weapons including loaded crossbows.