The Long War 03 - The Red Prince (32 page)

Dalian took over. ‘The three of us will take up position in the cloistered yard that leads to the catacombs. Once we’re sure most of the fighters have left, we will move in. Rham Jas and I should be a match for any stragglers.’

‘And how do we get out?’ asked Glenwood, imagining he was the only one among them concerned with their escape.

‘There are balconies in the domed ceiling. I tied a rope up there a week ago. I was going to suggest that Glenwood remain up there to throw the rope down for us to escape, but if you want him in the catacombs with us, we will have to rethink.’

‘We get out the way we came in,’ offered Rham Jas.

‘That’s risky,’ replied Nanon. ‘We don’t know how much connection Saara has to her thralls. You may find an army coming the other way to help their mistress. I can only keep them busy for so long once they know she’s in danger.’

‘So we’ll be quick,’ said the assassin. ‘Kale breaks off as soon as we enter. He goes straight to Keisha while Dalian and I get to the enchantress.’

Nanon considered it, narrowing his eyes and scratching at his chin. ‘It’s still risky, but, if you’re quick...’

‘Very quick,’ said Dalian. ‘How long will it take to despatch the Mistress of Pain?’

Rham Jas shrugged. ‘She’s just a woman, she can die in a second like anyone... except maybe me.’ These last words were delivered with a grin.

Dalian’s patience was evidently being stretched and his mouth curled up into an expression of restrained anger. The old wind claw – who claimed to be the greatest of his order – leant in towards the Kirin. ‘If your ego, sense of humour or heathen lack of faith causes this mission to fail, I will inch you up to your shoulders and then immolate the rest.’

Rham Jas actually looked afraid for a moment, and Glenwood chuckled at the childish reverence his companion showed Dalian.

‘Look, the threats don’t help,’ said the forger. ‘Nanon, be the voice of reason.’

‘Me?’ replied the forest-dweller. ‘I try and stay away from reason. I don’t think he means it, he just likes to be scary... probably a defence mechanism of some kind.’

This comment made all three men look at him.

‘Why do you let him get away with comments like that?’ asked Rham Jas. ‘You don’t threaten to cut his arms off.’

‘The fate of my god does not rest on his shoulders,’ countered the Thief Taker. ‘He is no dark-blood.’

‘And what if it goes wrong?’ asked Glenwood. ‘The plan.’

Nanon chuckled. ‘In that case, I expect we’ll all be dead within a few hours.’

Dalian banged his fist on the table. ‘Number one – she doesn’t know we’re coming,’ he announced. ‘Number two – the Kirin is probably the best assassin in the lands of men, and number three – Jaa wills it.’

Rham Jas blushed slightly. ‘Thanks,’ he muttered.

The Thief Taker glanced out of the window. ‘It’s approaching twilight. I propose that Nanon leaves us soon and gives us enough time to get to the knight marshal’s office. Then he begins his campaign of terror.’

Rham Jas laughed at Dalian’s phrasing. ‘I think we should call it that from now on. Nanon the Terrible has a certain ring to it... suits you.’

‘Is that an insult?’ asked the forest-dweller.

‘A friendly jibe, maybe,’ replied Rham Jas.

Dalian rubbed his eyes and sighed loudly. ‘I am tired and I am too old to be constantly reminding you three of your importance. Please confirm that you understand the plan.’

‘Yup,’ said Glenwood. ‘Good plan.’

‘Agreed,’ said Nanon.

Rham Jas merely gave a thumbs-up and the four of them sat in silence for a moment, with shallow nods and forced expressions of encouragement. Again, Glenwood felt out of place. His companions were a superhuman killer, an ancient Dokkalfar and a highly skilled warrior of Jaa. In comparison, the forger from Ro Leith was just a common criminal, a man with no special skills beyond a talent for art and fakery, and he doubted that a dodgy church seal or an attractive charcoal sketch would be much use now.

‘You okay?’ asked Nanon, placing a hand on Glenwood’s shoulder.

‘Yeah... mostly. I suppose I’m afraid,’ he replied.

‘He got hit on the head a week ago,’ said Rham Jas. ‘Helping me get past the naked noble folk.’

Glenwood scratched at the rough section of tender flesh just above his right ear. The bump had disappeared but a scar was visible through his hair. Maybe it was just the blow to his head. He’d been afraid in Tiris, Arnon, Leith and Haran, but he’d coped. He’d cope in Weir, too.

You’re doing well, said a voice in his head. Not long now, sweet Kale.

* * *

The cloistered yard had many exits, narrow passages that led out on to the port side of Ro Weir. It was old and the pillars were covered in moss and lichen, and wild bramble bushes lined the yard. Dalian had led them to the narrowest of the entrances and they had been skulking in darkness on the edge of the yard for half an hour. Beyond the bushes, flanking the way down, were four wind claws.

They had not spoken since Nanon had left, and even Rham Jas had been enveloped in the nervous silence. All three had their weapons drawn – Dalian’s kris knives, the Kirin’s katana and Glenwood’s old longsword.

Then an explosion sounded in the distance and they jumped in surprise. The sound was a deep, rumbling crash, and a plume of smoke rose from the harbour, indicating that the Dokkalfar had begun his campaign of terror.

‘That black wart is a dangerous substance,’ whispered Dalian drily. ‘Let us hope Nanon has more.’

‘Trust me, a little goes a long way,’ replied Rham Jas, inching his way towards the yard.

They stayed in shadows, close to the bushes and out of sight of the wind claws on guard. The Karesian warriors were startled, pulled out of the tedium of late-night guard duty by the sudden explosion. With animated arm movements they shouted back through the huge door where running feet could be heard.

‘Come on, come on,’ muttered Dalian impatiently, padding his feet.

Activity increased around the entrance. Glenwood’s view was blocked, but he could hear several men shouting at each other and several more running.

‘Silence!’ shouted an unseen man of Ro. ‘Your mistress orders you to investigate. Quickly now.’

‘Who the fuck was that?’ asked Rham Jas, staying low to the ground and trying to peer into the yard.

‘Elihas of Du Ban,’ replied Dalian. ‘He is dangerous, watch for him.’

Several dozen armoured Karesians rushed past them. None looked in their direction and the wind claws quickly left the cloistered area and moved out into the old town of Weir.

‘You two, stay on guard,’ ordered Elihas, as more men emerged into the yard.

‘Wait!’ muttered Dalian. ‘There are more.’

Ro guardsmen now emerged and joined the wind claws to form a large patrol to investigate the explosion, just as another plume of fire rose into the air from the harbour.

‘That’s it, let’s move,’ said the Karesian.

A cat-like flash of brutal violence removed the two guards. Dalian and Rham Jas moved so quickly that Glenwood had barely stood upright by the time the two men had fallen. They didn’t look back and rushed towards the archway leading downwards. Glenwood nervously left the foliage, feeling like a tourist as he followed them into the catacombs. The stone passageway was dimly lit by torch emplacements and sloped gradually down.

‘How many more?’ asked the assassin.

‘Maybe five, not including the cleric,’ replied Dalian. ‘They’ll be in the main chamber.’

Glenwood was making far too much noise. The unnatural stealth of the Kirin and the light feet of the Karesian made him feel like a heavy-footed fat man in comparison. With weapons drawn, they continued until the entrance was no longer visible behind them and side rooms with closed doors lined the passageway. It was deathly quiet and Glenwood became aware of each breath and footstep, as if each sound would give away their location. The hard, grey stone was unadorned, though smells of incense and blood drifted down the cavernous emptiness.

Dalian signalled a halt and the three men hugged the walls. Ahead of them, at a crossroads in the passage, two figures stood guard. Their silhouettes showed scimitars and black armour, but the weapons were sheathed and the men were clearly not expecting trouble.

‘I think this is where we part ways, Glenwood,’ said Dalian. ‘You want to take the left passage up ahead. Keep going straight on and you’ll reach the girl’s quarters.’

‘And you’re sure her mistress won’t be there?’ asked the forger nervously.

‘As sure as I can be,’ was the response. ‘She spends her evenings cavorting with her flock.’

Glenwood puffed out his cheeks. ‘Okay, then. I assume you’ll deal with those two?’

His two companions nodded. ‘Kale, she’s my daughter,’ said Rham Jas, without a grin. ‘Get her out of here and we’ll meet by the wall. That disused warehouse.’

Dalian and the Kirin shared a look and advanced towards the two guards. Glenwood stayed out of the way, ready to move quickly to the left once the wind claws were dealt with. Staying in the shadows, they got as close as possible before making their presence known. Rham Jas silenced one man with a measured thrust through his neck, while Dalian wrapped an arm round the other and drove his kris knife upwards through his back.

‘Kale, go!’ snapped the Kirin, already moving forward.

Glenwood backed away down the left corridor for a few paces and then began to speak. He was going to offer some words of encouragement, or at the very least to wish them good luck, but his words were cut off by the sudden emergence of more guards from the passageway ahead. Dalian had underestimated and the forger counted ten, emerging fully armed and ready from the darkness. He paused for a further second, then left the fighting to the two warriors and sped away to rescue the Kirin’s daughter. Strangely, in that moment, running down a dark corridor with the sounds of violence behind him, Glenwood’s mind turned to the face of Shilpa the Shadow of Lies.

It is almost time, said the voice in his head.

* * *

Dalian prayed as he fought. Ro guardsmen emerged from side doors and passageways and were crippled or killed by the Karesian and his Kirin companion. More men than they could best, more men than should have been here.

‘Jaa, strengthen my arm.’

He ducked under a clumsy longsword and opened the man’s groin.

‘Fill my heart with your fire.’

He headbutted a young Ro and kicked him back down the passage.

‘I am your instrument.’

He saw Rham Jas roll forward, barrelling three men to the ground and killing a fourth as he rose to his feet.

‘I am your servant.’

He received a deep cut to his leg.

From the central chamber, now agonizingly close, he could hear a woman’s laughter. The sound was lyrical and had a note of sorcery in it that made him feel sick.

The Kirin was now a little way ahead and Dalian had to acknowledge that without Rham Jas he would have been overwhelmed. It was only the whirling katana and the narrowness of the passage that prevented the guardsmen from surrounding them. He’d lost count of the men arrayed against them, and he was too concerned with staying alive to worry about how their plan had been discovered.

More laughter as Saara the Mistress of Pain made her presence known. ‘You are brave, but your bodies will soon be mine.’

Driving forward, Rham Jas reached the end of the passageway. He paused at the opening, killing two more men with a graceful twirl.

‘Dalian, come on!’ he shouted, beckoning for the old Karesian to hurry up. ‘We’re almost there.’

Quickening his pace and concentrating on keeping the attackers back, the Thief Taker advanced towards his companion. With sweat and blood clouding his vision, he felt a sudden burning in his side and looked down to see a wide tear in his flesh. It was a bad wound, but not enough to make him drop his kris knives. He mustered enough strength to jump at the Ro who had stabbed him and drive a knife into the man’s neck, cutting out his throat with a savage growl.

Rham Jas tried to get to him, but his path was now blocked. Ahead, the central chamber beckoned and no guards stood in his way.

Through bloodied teeth, Dalian spat out the words, ‘Move, you Kirin scum.’ He pressed at the wound in his side, blood flowing out from between his fingers. Nausea enveloped him and he had to use the wall in order to keep moving. ‘Kill her, Rham Jas!’

The assassin nodded and bounded into the central chamber. Dalian tackled a man and stabbed him in the head, then flailed to his left and killed another. If he could just reach the central chamber, he’d be able to stay alive. If Rham Jas could kill the enchantress, they might yet escape.

I will fear nothing but Jaa. I will fear nothing but Jaa.

He gritted his teeth and kept moving. The last man was a lesser wind claw, a traitor to his god and his people. Dalian let his rage consume him and he savagely crushed the man’s skull against the wall. With blood on his hands, his chest and seeping from his mouth, the greatest of the wind claws followed into the wide-open catacombs.

Rham Jas had advanced quickly and was now in front of the raised platform and the seated enchantress. Wind claws guarded Saara but they stood back, merely blocking the Kirin’s advance. The enchantress herself appeared euphoric and her body swayed in a sensual dance, though she also looked unwashed and had deep shadows under her eyes. To the left stood Elihas of Du Ban, looking impassively past the Kirin to where Dalian was entering the chamber.

‘Time to die, bitch,’ spat the assassin, holding his blood-covered katana in both hands and running at the wind claws.

‘I don’t think so,’ she replied in a girlish chuckle.

Men of Ro emerged from the passageway behind and took up position blocking the exit. There were dozens of them.

‘Do not kill the old man,’ ordered Saara. ‘He is now harmless.’

‘Harmless!’ he roared. ‘I am Dalian Thief Taker, the greatest of the wind claws.’

‘Then die as a man,’ replied Elihas, lunging forward.

Dalian parried with both his knives and spun the cleric round, kicking him hard in the groin. His armour bore the blow and he turned quickly, holding his longsword at arm’s length.