SWNOVELS Iceblade: Chapter 11
THE STALE, HUMID BREATH of the dungeon is heavy with the stench of fear and death. If the confines of the narrow approach hole felt claustrophobic, the very air in here makes this twelve foot wide tunnel feels ten times worse.
And yet, the place looks empty.
And yet… I can see that it’s empty because there are several torches burning in sconces, sending wavering flashes of red light flickering along the mildewed walls.
The sense of wrongness, of something seriously off in this whole operation, returns full force. It has to be the heightened alertness of the Blade’s gift provoking these intuitive feelings, but I still don’t have enough experience for the kind of analysis that would tell me how to prepare for what comes next.
Whatever it is, I feel convinced it won’t be good.
No chance to back out now with four Eldrin waiting for me to let them in here and two valuable military commanders to be extracted.
If they are even down here.
I test my grip on each blade, missing the graceful heft of crysteel for the tenth time since starting this mission. Going in feet first has the disadvantage of a few seconds of being unable to watch for attack as I wriggle through the gap, but I decide it’s marginally better than dropping twelve feet to land on my head on the stone paving. The tunnel designers should have left a few inches more space.
I’m halfway through when I hear the thud of heavy boots and lash out blindly with my foot, resulting in a crunch of bone and some furious swearing as someone staggers back––and white hot pain flashes across my right thigh. I land on the filthy stone slabs in a crouch and feel the warm gush of blood down my leg.
The guard who slashed my leg is coming at me again in spite of his broken nose, forcing me to parry with one blade while stabbing wildly upward into his belly with the other. But there are more of them coming in behind and a quick glance around tells me the only reason I’m still alive is because I landed in a corner where they can’t move in behind my back.
They were waiting for me!
I push back against the anger that suspicions of betrayal spark inside me, and for the first time ever, I find I can apply cold logic through every move of a fight. I use my position in the corner to compensate for my wounded leg and the slowed response on my right side. The constricted space prevents more than two guards from attacking at any one time and the growing pile of bodies I am laying down hinders their footwork.
All the while I’m glancing over my shoulder to estimate one blade-length up from the floor and one across to the left. At last I can identify the dark shadow on the rough stone wall that gives away the key-slot in the crumbling mortar. I have to work out five moves ahead, leaving time to grab the hidden lever, push down with my fingers and then twist round and return to the fight.
I almost don’t make it. The few minutes it takes to add more bodies to the defensive pile leaves me dizzy with blood loss. I drop one clumsy sword, reach out to grab the lever, slash back at another attacker and then lean weakly against the wall as I watch a narrow section of it start to swing open.
The next few minutes dissolve into a blur as grey mist floats in front of my eyes and my leg feels as if it is on fire. I sink to the ground, watching Marin and Deris push through the slowly opening door to carve a path through the horde of guards still forcing their way into every gap. Nem uses the chaos to duck and weave between the attackers before heading off to the far end of the tunnel. I assume she is searching for our valuable hostages.
Marin’s voice cuts through the screams and the clash of steel.
“Kashia! Get Ariel out of here!”
Do I need to be carted out like a sack of baggage?
One attempt at scrambling to my feet confirms that I am indeed a sack of baggage. I try to mumble my thanks to Kashia as she twists a tourniquet on my leg, heaves me to my feet and pulls me through the stone door. She half carries, half drags me back along the cobwebby passageways until she can deposit me in a smelly alcove at one side.
“Get this on the cut. I have to go back and help the others.” She dumps a leather pouch into my hand and runs back into the darkness.
She has left a firefly-stick wedged in a crack but it is a poor light to work by. I open the box of salve mostly by feel and hold my breath as the sting of it burns like coals on the long slash down the outside of my right leg. I suspect its main purpose is to slow the bleeding, or at least I hope so. I really, really do not want to pass out in this slimy, grimy place.
At last a light appears from the direction of the dungeon. That is flaming torchlight, not firefly-glow. I grip my remaining blade, noticing how feeble my arm feels as I hold it defensively in front of me. If the others have died back there, this must surely be the pursuit.
And then I hear Marin’s voice.
“Ariel! Get up! Run!”
No chance. I’m only managing to sit upright because Kashia had propped me against the wall when she dumped me here. Marin arrives in front of me, and for the first time since I have known him he starts swearing.
I guess that means things are not going well.
And he is carrying someone large and heavy. Maybe one of our rescued generals… If only everything would stop swirling around like winter fog.
“I’ll carry her.” Nem stoops and heaves me over her shoulders to follow Marin.
“Where is Kashia?” I can’t see her with the others and fear she hasn’t made it out.
“She’s busy.” Nem isn’t in the mood for talking.
Deris is at our backs, also carrying someone. And then I hear Kashia’s voice.
“You have less than ten seconds to get around that next corner!”
Dark mist in front of my eyes again. Running feet and a horrible jolting that stabs lightning pain through my leg. Then a roaring and crashing behind us as heat and fire surge down the tunnel to engulf the dark shapes around me.
Something hard cracks against the side of my head and everything goes black.
I OPEN MY EYES TO SEE moonlight fighting its way through the grimy panes of the skylight above me. It feels good to be in a loft instead of a cellar but I have no idea where I am apart from that. I move each hand and foot experimentally, noticing with a touch of irony that this has become a routine habit for me after every fight, just as it is for the others. I wonder if I’m healing faster than the last time I was wounded. Everything seems to be in working order, even my right leg.
Well, it works, but it still hurts like hell.
Marin arrives with a plate of flatbreads and fruit.
“Are you fit to move?”
“Ugh. How long have I got before I have to?”
“Just over an hour. You slept through the rest of the day and half the next night.” He squeezes my hand and I catch the look of relief on his face. “That’s the second time we’ve had to carry you out of a fight. For a while I thought I’d lost you.”
“Marin, it was a trap. We were betrayed.”
“You sensed it before we went in, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I didn’t know how to interpret what I felt. I thought maybe I was just tired. Have you discovered what happened?”
He lets out a long breath. “Not entirely. I think Farang must have guessed there were secret tunnels and escape routes linking to pockets of resistance in the city.”
“But he isn’t here is he? I thought he was still searching for Maratic?”
“I expect he warned the Emperor before this cat and mouse negotiating game started between them. Our two captive generals told us that Purmut gave orders two days ago for them to be moved. The jailers took them down to the lower level where we found them.” He glances across at the two blanket-covered heaps that lie unmoving on the other side of the loft.
I can’t see any sign of life in either of them.
“They didn’t die on the way out of there, did they?”
“No, but they’re in a bad way. The jailers had orders to beat them savagely as soon as they reached the new cell. Broken legs, ribs, crushed fingers. They will recover eventually, but they won’t be doing any riding or fighting for several weeks.”
“So… that beating was to make it harder and slower for us to get them out? While several dozen guards lay in wait to ambush any rescue attempt?”
“I think so. That section of the dungeon is the nearest to the outer walls so I’m guessing it was the obvious place to start a search for escape tunnels.”
“Which have all been discovered now?”
“Not all of them. Kashia set off the fire-powder and brought that whole section crashing down on the pursuit. We evacuated the cellar we used before and came here instead. We’re in a loft above a leather store in the merchant quarter.”
I still feel uneasy. “Are you sure it was a well-laid trap and not a betrayal?”
“Kashia is checking her sources. Most of her operatives are not Eldrin and so are more of a security risk. But they are never privy to details of secret tunnels and other essential information. I think the fact that the trap was set to discover those tunnels confirms that much.”
“Hm. Something still doesn’t feel right. I’ll let you know if I can make any sense of what I feel.”
“Good. But now eat. You have just over an hour to get back in shape for climbing over the wall in the dark.” Marin plants a kiss on my forehead and goes over to spend his remaining time here debriefing two badly damaged army commanders.
WE GET BACK OVER THE city wall to the forest camp before first light reveals our passage. To my relief, my leg still feels sore but doesn’t hinder my movements. Marin relieves Lupine of guard duty and sends her out on scouting detail. I’m not surprised that she looks pleased. It gives her a chance to hunt and she must be desperately hungry by now. Nightwing is already back, asleep on her choice roosting spot on Sahan’s saddle.
It is a relief to get out of my worn and clumsy assassin’s gear and back into lightweight chainmail and Sylvani camouflage silk. Crysteel feels so much better at my back than the lumpy blade whose only attribute was anonymity. Brac and I stuff our borrowed equipment back into the crevice in the rocks, ready for the next suicide mission in or around the city that needs backup and anonymous equipment.
Marin takes out his whistle, glancing up at the sky as he summons his hawk. I watch the gyrfalcon slowly circling before it swoops to land on his wrist.
“Marin? Are you expecting a message?”
“Yes. Kashia is waiting for an overdue update from Maratic. I need that information before we leave, to determine where we go next. She said she would pass on the message as soon as she received it.” He checks the capsule. No message yet.
I cautiously reach out to stroke the bird’s glossy neck feathers. “Does she have a name?”
“Tal. Short for talons.” He indicates the long thin scar running down his forehead to the corner of one eye. “We had a rather intransigent difference of opinion during early training. She has a particular way of making her point. Reminds me of you.”
We both laugh. It feels good to find a tiny space in which to relax, even if only for a few moments, even if the shadows of this war and my unreliable abilities still linger on the periphery of awareness. Marin sends the hawk back to the city and offers to help me with herb collecting while he waits for its return.
I can’t help wishing I could just stay out here in the forest with Marin, sharing our different skills and forgetting about royal decrees and invasions for a while. Our thoughts seem to flow together effortlessly without the need for words.
Every now and then our hands touch and it becomes impossible to focus on anything but how close he is standing, the way he holds his body, alert and poised to move like the hawk he handles with such care and skill. I can feel the mercurial energy in him running through me every time I look at him, taking in the fine contours of his face, the almost-smile on his lips when he speaks to me, the depth in his hazel eyes.
The gyrfalcon returns twice and finally Marin gets his intelligence update. He glances briefly at it and signals the four of us into action.
“Time to go.”
I have just slipped Sahan’s bridle over her head when I hear a sharp breath of impatience from behind me. Marin is standing with one hand on the black stallion’s mane, the slender whistle he uses to call Lupine from a distance gripped in his teeth as he searches the shadows for signs of the wolf. She should still be scouting for intruders on her usual circuit around our camp and he always checks in with her each time we are about to move off.
The hiss and thud of an arrow finding its mark cuts through my thoughts about where Lupine might have disappeared to. I swing round to see Deris thrown across the flanks of his horse by the impact of the arrow embedded in his back. I take a step towards him even as he slides to the ground and lies still.
“Ariel!” I feel the sharp blow of Marin’s hand on my arm, reminding me of the training he has been trying to implant in my reactions. First principles when under attack. You can only help your friends if you stay alive and deal with the enemy first. Particularly when it comes to arrows––the shaft itself usually stops the victim bleeding to death until you try to take it out. First principle if hit by an arrow is to lie still and hope the enemy thinks you’re already dead. But the sight of the evil-looking shaft sticking out of my friend’s back suggests he might really be dead already.
I force myself to focus on appropriate priorities and get one of my own arrows into the first shadowy outline I spot dodging between the trees. A second assassin runs across the space just beyond the slumped body. I nock another arrow, making the usual lightning judgement of distance and speed––
And the same instant I release the bowstring, someone barrels into me from behind and we roll across the grass to fetch up behind a rock. I twist and jab an elbow into my attacker’s ribs and I’m rewarded by a grunt of pain. Before I can follow up with the end of my bow in his eye, Marin’s voice hisses in my ear.
“Ariel! It’s me. If you could just refrain from killing me for a few moments.”
“Wh––”
“That was Tanil, Kashia’s messenger. With the Rapathians who just ambushed us. We have been betrayed.”
“And you stopped me putting an arrow in him?” I’m already wriggling free of his grip and reaching for my quiver.
“I need you to just wound him enough for it to look as if you tried to kill him along with the others. I’ll send Nem back to warn Kashia so she can use Tanil to send false messages to the enemy. Discover who else is involved.”
Then he’s gone, disappearing into the shadows and leaving me to stalk Rapathians through the trees. I can’t help feeling Marin is taking strategy just a bit too far, removing Nem from the fight and making my job more complicated. Adding extra details on what I can and cannot inflict on Tanil means I have to get close enough to identify each assassin and deliver the kind of precision he demands––and on top of that I’m too busy worrying about Deris and Lupine to concentrate properly. I’m already running through memories of what Tanil might have overheard after he arrived in Kashia’s cellar with Shan’domir.
Another arrow hisses past my ear and I make one final effort to focus on priorities like staying alive. This is only the second time I have launched into a fight with some vestige of self-awareness of what I’m doing. Maybe the training is finally getting this power under control. Or maybe getting distracted in three directions at once might have something to do with it.
Either way, I manage to circle round and get behind the archer without him hearing me, to lay him flat on the ground with a slash cutting through the tendons across the back of his legs. He won’t be doing any more fighting on Samaran soil and his screams bring two more of his companions in for the kill.
This time I can watch my own moves as well as those of my adversaries, noting with a kind of calm precision how the skilled dance that takes me to the kill spot for each one is so similar to the way I saw Trengar weaving across the courtyard with such deadly accuracy.
It doesn’t take long. I pause, listening for anything that might give away another Rapathian approaching.
The forest around me holds no sound beyond the wind in the trees. And then I hear the clash of crysteel coming from the direction of our camp.