Conflict (12 page)

The moon’s pale light bathed the red roofs of the grand houses in the upper city. The nobility and wealthy merchants were sleeping peacefully, sheltered by their riches and luxury. The night-guard of the city of Ocorum were patrolling the high district on their midnight round, returning to the center with ceremonious steps, pacing the cobbled streets energetically.

Komir, hiding in the shadows of a doorway, saw the dozen soldiers pass by in their characteristic uniform. The Great Lighthouse of Egia, the emblem of the city, was clearly shown on their shields and blue capes. At his side, Hartz watched in silence. The two Norriel wore dark clothes under black, hooded cloaks which they had bought at the market in order to blend with the shadows of the night. Hooded and wrapped in their cloaks, they were practically invisible in the reigning darkness.

They knew they had to be if they wanted their plan to work out.

Komir looked to his left, half-closing his eyes. He could make out Kayti in the distance, dagger in hand. She was spurring Lotas toward the entrance gate of Guzmik’s elegant palace. At her side was Lindaro, whose face showed serious concern. Once again Kayti had turned out to be a great strategist, thinking up a plan which would let them enter the well-guarded home of the man who had put a price on their heads. Of course, her plan was infinitely better than the one Hartz had suggested. Komir almost laughed out loud at the thought. A very good plan by Hartz consisted in tearing down the gates and taking the property by force, fighting whoever got in their way. Pure Hartz-style. Komir looked at his big friend, who winked back at him. The giant’s eyes shone with excitement. There was nothing he liked more than a bit of action. He could not wait to stir up some trouble and crush some skulls.

That evening he would have his fun… although things might go terribly wrong…

They advanced amid the shadows, crouching so as not to be seen, as far as the eastern wall of the manor. Here they stayed, listening to the conversation which was taking place at the main gate of the small palace.

Waiting for Kayti’s signal to act.

Kayti placed herself two fingers away from Lotas’ back. She pushed her sharp dagger, which looked like pure silver, against him to let her prisoner know what awaited him if he made any suspicious movement or tried any of his lowlife tricks. The mission was very risky, every precaution was necessary and Lotas was a slippery worm.

“Guards! Call your lord, I have grave news!” Lotas ordered the two guards in yellow and black at the gateway. His stern voice was full of authority.

Kayti, close behind Lotas’ back, kept silent, expectant and alert. On her right Lindaro was trying to maintain his composure, but she could feel his nervousness at the danger they were about to face. She could not understand why he had insisted on coming when he knew that bloodshed would be inevitable. The priest’s motives were his own and she could not understand them, nor indeed had she any desire to. Knowing him, the odds were that he would try to stop things reaching that point. Well-intentioned but misguided man of faith…

“These aren’t visiting hours!” the oldest guard barked. “Leave immediately!”

Lotas did not flinch at the refusal. “It’s imperative that I speak to your lord. Tell him at once of my arrival, quick!”

“Who dares to bother my lord’s rest?” the youngest guard said angrily.

“My name is Lotas… I’m sure it’s a name that will ring a bell… Your lord has charged me with a matter of great importance, and I need to see him at once.”

The two guards exchanged looks of surprise as they recognized the name of the lord of rogues.

“You are Lotas… the Ruthless? Lord of the docks and the lower town?” the youngest guard asked dubiously.

“The very same, in the flesh. I see my good name precedes me. That’s how I’m known in the city. And now that this matter is cleared up, announce my arrival!”

The two guards looked at each other again, unsure what to do, doubt in their fearful glances. After a moment, the elder said:

“This had better be urgent. Otherwise, Lotas or not, you’ll have cause to regret it, that much I can guarantee.” Leaving the threat floating in the air, he turned and went into the house.

Kayti relaxed her shoulders. The tension of the situation and of holding her dagger against the despicable Lotas had cramped her. The villain was doing very well, better than she had anticipated. He was a convincing character. The plan was going ahead as scheduled, but she must not relax for a single instant. The man was like a slippery snake and would betray them as soon as he found a chance, there was not the slightest doubt. But he would pay with his life, she would see to that. At her side Lindaro, wrapped in a grey hooded cloak, shifted nervously. The evening’s outcome was still uncertain and their lives in danger, a danger that seemed to follow them with every step they took.

Anxiety rose from the pit of her stomach: not for the risk to her own life or the imminent bloodshed, but for the fear of a lie revealed, of half-truths uncovered. Guzmik, lord of that residence, could reveal the reason why he was after her, and if he did, she would be awkwardly placed with the two Norriel, to whom she had not told the whole truth. In fact she had just told them what was strictly necessary; without lying, but without all the details either.

On the other hand, perhaps Guzmik did not yet know that she was the person they should really have killed when they attacked her group of the Brotherhood. At least, so Kayti hoped. That despicable sorcerer certainly believed that his ambush had been a success. But they had killed the decoy and not her. They had fooled Guzmik. That had been the plan: to dress her as a plain soldier of the Brotherhood so she would not be the target in any ambush or assassination attempt. It had worked, she was alive, but thanks to the intervention of those two Norriel. Alas, all her companions of the Custodial Brotherhood had perished in the attack. But she would avenge them, she would destroy that Dominator and would let him know his failure. But she must use her head, control her temper, or she would not make it.

The guard came back followed by a gaunt old man in a long brown and white tunic of fine linen. Another four guards appeared from the shadows, weapons unsheathed, and stood behind the new arrival.

“This is not at all what we agreed on, Lotas,” the old man chided him harshly. “How dare you come here? Are you out of your mind? Nobody must know of our complicity, there’s a great deal at stake and your presence here puts us all in danger.”

“You’re not the one I’ve come to talk to, serf,” Lotas replied defiantly.

“Have you finalized the contract we agreed on? I hope so, for your own good. What do you want? The rest of the money? There’s no need, your wages will be honored as soon as we have proof that the contract has been fulfilled. Now, away from here! Discretion is what we agreed on, and you’re not keeping your side of the bargain.”

“What I have to say is of the utmost importance, and it’s not for your ears, serf. Take me to your lord. He’s the only one I’ll deal with,” said Lotas.

“The only person you’ll deal with is me. If what you want is more gold, you won’t see it until you bring proof. And now leave in silence, or I’ll make you regret it.”

“You’re right, gold is exactly what I want. I’ve got something your lord will pay for splendidly. I have the Envoy of the Custodial Brotherhood in my power…”

The eyes of the gaunt old man opened wider at that name, and for an instant he was speechless. Kayti, who had provided Lotas with this bait, watched the servant’s reaction with great interest.

Would he swallow the hook? The bait was juicy…

She was hoping he would.

Komir had been listening closely to the conversation from a distance. At the keyword
Custodian
he moved. Hartz leaned his back against the wall, and Komir climbed over his friend and reached the top of the stone wall. Once upon it he helped the giant, pulling him up with brute force. On top of the wall, lying on their stomachs, the two Norriel looked warily into the faintly illuminated garden of the great house’s east wing.

Two guards were wearily doing the rounds on the outside, by the wall. Unaware of the fact, they approached the spot where the two warriors were waiting for their heedless prey, like hawks. When they passed under the two friends Komir and Hartz exchanged looks, and at a gesture from Komir they dropped onto the guards. Hartz crushed one of them with the full weight of his huge body, so that the man sank all the way into the grass of the garden. Komir landed on the back of the other guard and hit him repeatedly in the face. The blows were fast and hard, and his prey was soon unconscious.

They looked around, fearful of having drawn the attention of some other guard who could sound the alarm; finesse and stealth were not exactly their forte. They remained still, listening.

Silence reigned in the night.

The eastern garden was deserted.

The two friends crossed the courtyard at a crouching run under the cover of darkness. In search of shadows, they stopped against the wall of the great central building of white stone. A sound at their backs alarmed them, and they hid behind two tall leafy bushes beside the wall. They had to enter the luxurious residence undetected, or else Kayti’s plan would not work.

A new guard appeared from the northern wing, walking quickly south to the entrance. Here a heated exchange was taking place. When he passed in front of the bush, two strong arms emerged from the shadows and abducted the guard without giving him the chance to cry out in surprise. He disappeared, and was not seen again.

After hiding the body, the two intruders went toward the rear of the small palace to the north, where two rows of tall limestone columns gave a grander, more lordly aspect to the house. Komir counted at least six men guarding the entrance: too many to take on without raising the alarm.

They retraced their steps to the eastern side of the building, looking for some possibility of access from the second floor. They would have to try getting inside from above. Komir signaled to Hartz to stay hidden, then began to climb the wall with the aid of a thick vine. He went up with great difficulty, using the plant for support. On the second floor of the building he lost his foothold.

Komir began to fall.

His stomach came into his throat, and he was filled with a horrible sense of emptiness.

Hartz, watching from the ground, let out a muffled cry.

At the last moment Komir managed to grab the vine again with the fingertips of his right hand, cutting short his fall with a dry thump of his body against the wall. He managed to bear the blow without letting go, and regained his calm. He took a deep breath and renewed his climb with the utmost care so as not to fall again.

When he finally reached the second floor he crouched down on the ledge and began to crawl carefully, not looking down, deliberately ignoring the risk of falling from that height. He managed to reach a balcony on the second floor, then unsheathed his long hunting knife and forced open the lock, muffling the sound as best he could to avoid attracting attention. A few moments later an improvised rope made out of luxurious sheets and curtains came down to Hartz like a multicolored silken snake.

Meanwhile, already inside the residence, Lotas, with Kayti and Lindaro close behind, was walking into the great library of the manor following the old servant. They were surrounded by six men of Guzmik’s personal guard, their faces rough and expectant, their swords unsheathed and ready.

“Wait here,” the old servant threatened, jabbing his finger at Lotas. “Whatever you’re selling had better be to my lord’s liking, because if not, you’ll suffer a painful death tonight.” He looked at his guards and said, “Watch them closely. If any of them makes the least noise, kill them all.” Then he left the room and went upstairs to the second floor.

Kayti evaluated the situation. The plan had better work perfectly, as the possibilities of coming out of that mansion alive were dwindling by the moment. She and Lotas would not be able to deal with the six guards.

After entering through the balcony, Komir went to the door of the room which led to the outer hall of the second floor. He opened it, not more than two fingers wide, and checked the long corridor. Two men in black and yellow were on guard in the middle of the wide passage, which was luxuriously ornamented and inadequately lit by two small oil lamps. There were no more than ten paces between the door and the guards. Komir closed the door carefully, but unexpectedly it gave a telltale creak.

Komir froze where he stood, his hand on the doorknob.

Hartz looked at him with eyes full of doubt.

Komir reacted and pointed to the enormous oak bed. At the same time he ran to the balcony. In a flash the door to the room opened wide, and the two guards entered with their weapons out. The first carried an oil lamp in one hand and a short sword in the other. The second stood beside him, using both hands to wield a long sword. To the left, against the wall, was a large finely-worked cupboard, with the oak bed and the balcony at the end. To the right was a long dressing table with an oval mirror and a vividly-embroidered armchair. The guards went to the cupboard and opened it abruptly, clearly intending to skewer whoever was inside.