Fate Rides Wicked: Volume I of the Lerilon Trilogy (47 page)

All four sword points came up as the man that assisted
in their battle sat down opposite them. “There have been
rumors in the poor quarter,” he whispered. “For another
gold coin I’ll pass them along.”

Ofeldar looked at the dark, ordinary features of the
man. “It depends on what they reveal.”

“Very well. The first rumor is that the Grand Master
lives in the coastal town of Yan. The second is that the
Grand Master is dead and there is an imposter giving these
orders. I give more credence to the first than the last.”

“So do we.” Aquendar showed him the order. The
stranger’s face blanched. “What disturbs you about this?”

“You just killed the successor to the Grand Master’s
position. Did you not notice the salutation?” The four
looked and they also turned white. Across the top of the
page it said, “To My Son, Krevian.” The stranger began to
get up. “Krevian was the best assassin in Murlan.” He
started to shake and then bolted towards the door. On his
way he pulled out his blade. The patrons of the bar
watched in horror as he intentionally impaled himself on
his blade in the snow outside the window.

The four rushed out to him. As the stranger died,
Aquendar said, “Why did you kill yourself?”

“Our lives are now forfeit. When the Grand Master
finds out his son is dead, so are his killers.” He gasped his
last breath.

Lazol laughed. As the others gave him an incredulous
look, he said, “If the Grand Master is alive, and we go to
Yan, bragging of our deeds, we won’t have to look for him.
He’ll find us. This is far too easy.”

All three of his companions said in unison, “That’s
what worries me.”

Tych sank into the snow where he appeared. As he
handed the teleportation cloth to Ofeldar, the scout
introduced her companions. The storm of the previous day
had left a foot of the white stuff and clear skies behind it,
but a cold wind bit at their winter cloaks.

Ofeldar brought Tych up to date. “Both from freely
given and expensive intelligence, we know the Grand
Master lives on the other side of Murlan. He has only once
before sent assassins after a king, and then for a huge
fortune. Our informants said he sends messages by
horseback to assassins in other cities. They said that if the
king is again a target, the money supplier will have to
supply more, because the Grand Master always sends two
messages to one or two assassins. We killed three different
sets.”

Tych nodded. “You are doing as well as I expected,
Ofeldar. Will you look for the Grand Master next?”

Aquendar shook his head. “There are more and more
rumors of the Grand Master’s death. We will search for the
purchaser of the guild’s services.”

Lazol added, “And we killed his son, so if he lives there
is a price on our heads.”

Tych thought for a moment, then said, “Spread word
that the Grand Master is dead. Tell the people you pass this
information to that one of Krevian’s documents was a
communiqué about his father. I suspect the Grand Master
may not even know attempts are being made in his name.”

Arif laughed. “So the orders were forged? That is not
possible.”

Tych just looked at her. “We are dealing with very
powerful magic here, stronger than mine. If one of
Rangdor’s minions did kill the Grand Master, it would be
an easy feat to duplicate his orders.”

“Then his killer would have to still be in Yan. That is
where we will go next,” said Ofeldar.

Tych stood. “I’m sure you will succeed. To your
health.” With this he disappeared.

Two days later, in the town of Yan, Reflin the Rat met
the Lioness. Just the rumors of her deeds made him
tremble. “You’re the one that killed Krevian. He was the
best.” The color drained from the young man’s face, no
older than a dozen years. “What do you want from me?”
he choked out.

Ofeldar laughed. “We won’t kill you. Our job is to
keep His Majesty alive, not kill every thief we meet.”

“Krevian wasn’t ordered to kill the king.”

“Do you know of any assassins being sent against the king?”

“No, the Grand Master ordered no attempts.”

“Why should we believe you?” barked Lazol.

“Didn’t you notice that if you switch two letters in
Krevian’s name, you have the king’s name? There is a
long-standing rule that if any member of the Thief’s Guild
or the Assassin’s Guild lays a hand on His Majesty or any
member of his family, they will be killed. Vrekian used to
be married to the daughter of the Grand Master, and the
assassin that killed her ended up on the wrong side of a
blade.”

Aquendar frowned. “I knew Vrekian’s wife had been
killed in an assassination attempt, but I didn’t know her
blood line. That must be why Krevian hadn’t made his
attempt on the most perfect night of the year to pull it off.”

Ofeldar raised her sword up to Reflin’s throat. “Make
it clear to everybody you meet that Krevian had forged
orders from the Grand Master to kill the king, as did two
other pairs of assassins. Also let them know that somebody
is paying handsomely to see the king dead. And if you’ve
lied to us, you will feel death, and you are too young for
that. Go.” She dropped the blade tip and he scurried off.

Aquendar checked Reflin’s direction while Lazol threw
the rope up to the third story roof of the building. All four
climbed up and quickly caught up with their prey. They
flattened against the roof and watched him move into the
market, hiding in the shadows from the lanterns.

Arif heard movement and caught it in the corner of her
eye across the way. Swiftly and with minimal movement
she brought her crossbow off her back. Ofeldar imitated.
When The Rat reached the spot, a figure stepped out of the
darkness. Ofeldar motioned for her to listen, but not shoot.

Reflin had his dagger out in a blur. “Laugher, you
know better than to do that to me. I just heard from the
Lioness that attempts are being made on the king’s life in
the Grand Master’s name. Krevian and others received
falsified orders.”

“The Grand Master has been dead over a month. I
killed him myself and forged those papers for my master,
Rangdor. You have become dangerous, Reflin.”

“How dare you use my real name!” Reflin’s voice
quaked in anger.

“Because it is time for you to die.” As the Laugher’s
sword came up, his neck jerked sideways. Reflin noticed
the bolt protruding from his attacker’s neck as the man
slumped to the ground. The sword made a soft clang as it
fell from his hand. Reflin spun to search the roof, but Arif
couldn’t be seen.

Arif whispered, “I’m going down to search him for
some clues. You three continue along the buildings to
follow him.”

As Ofeldar and Aquendar got up, Ofeldar said,
“Flashpoint, cover Arif until she’s down there, then join
us.” Lazol settled into the roof, crossbow ready.

Glass Spider reached the dead man and searched him.
In the same moment she heard a sound, she noticed a small
demon tattoo on the man’s exposed chest. Looking to
where Flashpoint used to be, a strange figure with a black
helmet and blowing cape moved silently across the roof.
With a mixture of instinct and experience, she crossed her
hand to her dagger. Showing mind-boggling speed, she
spun and released the dagger into the chest of another man
in black. She examined the helmet as she readied her
crossbow. “Forangen dung Devils of the Night. Rangdor’s
personal servants, human, but only barely.” She took aim
at the Devil on the buildings as he prepared to jump to the
next roof. In mid-flight the bolt took him in the side of the
head. He slammed against his target building and fell,
already dead.

Arif quickly cut the armor of the closer Devil and
confirmed her suspicions. His entire chest bore the tattoo
of a demon from the lowest layer of hell. Glass Spider
sprinted across the market towards the street the Rat had
followed. “My damned aim was off four inches high. But,
who am I to complain? I don’t have to clean it up in the
morning.” She stopped talking to herself and ducked into
an alley. She peered into the street to be sure her eyes
hadn’t tricked her.

They hadn’t. Flashpoint kneeled on a roof with his
crossbow pointed at the alley across the street from him. A
Devil of the Night had Ofeldar by the neck with a dagger
and another had Reflin in the same predicament. Aquendar
stood between the Devils, unsure of what to do.
Immediately, Arif knew.

She quickly scaled the three-story building next to her
without ropes and made her way across the roof. She
jumped to the next one and moved to just above Ofeldar.
She tied a very long length of rope to a stove pipe and sang:

Devils of the Night
Servant of Rangdor
Hate a lasting fight
Love what death is for

As Arif sang the last words, she jumped off the roof and
swung down towards Lioness. Ofeldar wriggled enough to
put an elbow in the stomach of her opponent. He fell away
and took Arif’s feet in his head.

Reflin the Rat also shifted enough for Aquendar to get
his blade into the devil. The boy began to run, but a bolt
slammed into the ground at his feet and he thought better of
it. The one Aquendar stabbed began to move. As they
reached to stop him, he pulled a dagger and planted it in his
heart. Arif dove to Ofeldar’s attacker and pinned him
before he stirred. She quickly disarmed him.

“They’ll kill themselves if they get the chance. Drag
that other one into the alley. The city watch could come by
at any moment, even in this part of town. We’ll question
this one,” said Ofeldar as she moved to help Arif.

While Lazol climbed down, Aquendar enlisted Reflin to
take the dead devil into the alley. A few seconds later the
street looked only slightly disturbed. Aquendar took the rat
by the collar of his armor and lifted him. “Be sure that all
in your circle know the Grand Master is dead. When
somebody you trust comes to power, inform them of our
work and enlist the help of the thieves to get information
about these creatures.” He dropped him. “Now get out of
here.” He turned to Arif as the other devil came to. “Tell
us what you know.”

She spoke to Lazol first as he lifted the man up to the
wall. “Don’t let him kill himself.” She turned to
Aquendar. “Six hundred years ago, a prophet predicted
that when the thirteen kingdoms united, the grip of evil
would be broken. Rangdor watched as kingdoms began to
form alliances and became sure they would become one.
To prevent it, he took some of the humans that served him
and changed them.”

“Changed them in what way,” asked Lazol.

“If you remove that devil’s helmet, he will die. They
are only barely human. Anything that could kill us will kill
them, except for time. They will live until Rangdor or
somebody else kills them. It is said that when they are
killed, their souls become the possessions of Rangdor.
They will return as demons in the army in the spring. They
always travel in fours, but I killed the other two before I
found you. The first time, their mischief proved the end of
any chance of unity.”

“Let’s question this one,” said Ofeldar.

“They have a low tolerance for pain.” Arif walked over
and drove her dagger into a non-fatal location. The
creature screamed, but the helmet muffled it. “They also
can’t speak, so it will have to be yes or no questions.”

She looked up at the devil. “Do you wish to die?” The
creature nodded. With a painful twist of the knife she said,
“I won’t let you. Answer me wrong and I will cause even
more pain.”

Ofeldar winced. “Do we have to do it this way?”

Arif just said, “Watch.” She turned to the devil. “How
many of you, including the ones killed tonight, are there in
Yan?” The devil nodded four times. Arif looked at
Ofeldar. “He just lied. There has to be twelve of them
within five miles of each other and a thirteenth, which is
their leader. The leader was never human.” With a twist of
the knife, Glass Spider asked, “How many of you?” She
got thirteen nods. “Is your leader in the poor quarter?”
After an affirmative she said, “Nod for each group of
thirteen in all of Murlan.” Two bobs later she removed the
dagger and placed it in his heart.

Aquendar said, “Why did you do that?”

“Can you think of any other questions like that?”

He paused. “No, I guess I can’t. But next time be sure
we’re all ready for the asking.”

Lazol stood at the end of the alley. “The city guard is
coming. We had better leave.” Without another word they
climbed up the side of the building, pulled up Arif’s rope
and their own, and vanished into the night.

As the Murlan army left Murlanak, Worlef, Findra,
Buynar, Blard, Nandel, Rendind, Blarn, Vilmar, Tendelbro,
Reichet, Andri and Bratif arrived at the camp of the forces
of Li. Tents stretched in every direction on the Field of
Scars. Cooking fires burned throughout the camp and the
eagles filled the sky, carrying food and messages. The
twelve weary, but wiser and stronger, riders rode down the
hill toward the entrance to camp. A neftiran patrol stopped
them. Andri came forward with Bratif. “Hello, Captain
Oledal, it’s been a long time. How’s the army?”

Oledal’s eyes opened wide. “Commander Andri,
welcome back!” He stopped and bowed. “The army is
stronger and ready after our expedition to the Efres.
Commander Tendelbro, I understand you know General
Zif, Prince of Seftrel?”

“Yes, what about him, Captain?” asked the commander
of the Efre neftir.

“He’s in critical condition. He scouted ahead for his
squad and was trapped by some xadineft in the Efres. He
and the few men with him managed to hold off a couple
hundred of them before the rest of his squad could arrive.
We heard the fighting and came running. He might not
make it. The healing spells and potions are too few to heal
all his wounds.”