Shattering the Ley (22 page)

Daedallen nodded. “We’ll give them a little more time, let them settle in.”

Allan’s hands itched to take up his sword, his legs twitching even more. If Daedallen hadn’t been there, he suspected Hagger would be pacing. As it was, the older Dog’s fingers were drumming against his upper arms where they were crossed over his chest.

An interminable time later, Daedallen finally gave a stiff nod.

The Hound slipped from the home’s front room. Allan saw the boy cross the street a moment later, then lost sight of him. Hagger sent runners to the rest of the Dogs tucked away in the houses and shops they’d seized control of earlier. Daedallen regarded the estate in silence, body still, although Allan felt the tension radiating from him.

And then the shadow of the Hound appeared on the far side of the gate.

“Go,” Daedallen barked.

Hagger dodged out through the rearranged furniture of the room, out the door and onto the street, Allan and the other Dogs behind him. They all drew their swords as they neared the gate, the Hound catching sight of them, turning, then sprinting toward the front of the manse beyond. Hagger cursed, even as they were joined by the other groups, but his attention shifted away from the Hound as his hands flashed orders to spread out to the left and right. Dogs ducked into the garden, trampling flowers and bushes, Allan and Hagger heading straight for the heavy oak double doors. One was slightly ajar, the lock shattered, a slim blade sticking out from the keyhole. The Hound’s work, although Allan hadn’t seen any weapons on the boy.

Then they were inside, hand gestures flying, Allan sticking close to Hagger. Signals indicating empty rooms flared from both sides as Dogs ducked through doors and returned. Hagger sent another group up to the second story, then motioned Allan and three others into the back rooms. Allan noted the lack of servants, as the Hound had reported. They encountered the kitchen area, passed through to a massive dining room, a parlor lined with tall paintings, a sitting room, and what appeared to be Lord Gatterly’s office, a map of the known world lined with trading routes to the east and west drawn in black on a central table, a massive desk to one side. The Dogs sent upstairs returned, the lead shaking his head and shrugging. Hagger grimaced and motioned back toward the kitchen.

They found the narrow servant door that led to stairs up and down. Ley light glowed from those leading downward, and Hagger’s expression broke into a cruel grin of triumph. He waved two Dogs toward the stairs leading up, then turned his entire focus on those going down.

They descended slowly, the only noises the creak of the stairs and the sounds of the Dogs’ leather armor and their heavy breathing. The stairs turned, then turned again, the ley light brightening. They opened up onto a narrow corridor lined with cut stone, two doors to one side, another straight ahead. The one straight ahead was carved raggedly with the Kormanley symbol, just as the Hound had reported.

Allan’s heart thudded in his chest and sweat dripped from his face, itching in his armpits and along his chest and back. The Dogs settled around the door, listening. The murmur of voices reverberated through the heavy wood of the door, indiscernible. Hagger waited until everyone was set, meeting all of their gazes with a quick flicker of confirmation—

And then he cut his hand forward.

Allan hit the door hard, felt a moment of resistance before Hagger hit it beside him and it gave with a loud crack of splintering wood. They burst into the room beyond, the scent of smoke tickling Allan’s nostrils as soon as he and Hagger spilled out onto the floor. The Dogs behind leaped over them, pouring forward with a sudden barrage of shouts and growls, the room erupting into screams and curses, a scuffle of feet as the Kormanley—all dressed in the white robes of the priests—scattered in an attempt to escape. From the floor, Allan caught sight of two men in the center of the room inside a ring of candles, one kneeling with tears coursing down his face, the other standing regally over him. The man spun on the one that knelt and slapped him hard across the face, shouting, “You bastard! You led them straight to us!” A knife suddenly appeared in the man’s hand.

“Ibsen,” Allan murmured.

To his right, Hagger grunted. “And Lord Gatterly.” He heaved to his feet and headed straight toward the lord: the tall man with the neatly trimmed mustache and beard holding the dagger. Hagger snagged the lord’s shoulder even as the lord lunged toward the cowering Ibsen, jerking Gatterly back and bringing his own sword up to the lord’s throat. At the same time, the Hound appeared from the brawl that surrounded them, stepping forward and dragging Ibsen out of range, hunkering over the man with a feral look of protection on his face.

Allan surged to his feet and joined the rest of the Dogs in subduing and rounding up the other Kormanley, shoving the white-robed members to their knees against one wall. Two bodies sprawled across the floor, blood staining their robes, both taken out in the initial attack, both still alive although the one closest to the door had been trampled. Allan held his sword on the group and Hagger herded Lord Gatterly to the other side of the room, the Hound keeping watch over Ibsen, who appeared to have fainted. There were twelve others besides those two, all glaring at the Dogs who held them. Candles and chairs were scattered, a few tilted onto their sides, and bookcases lined the wall opposite the door. Maps of the city filled another wall, each district shaded in different colors. Allan recognized at least three of the most recent Kormanley attacks marked in red on it.

In the center of the map, the Amber Tower had been circled. Scrawled next to it was a date.

The day of the Baron’s Meeting.

Hatred flared and he turned to face Gatterly, but the lord’s attention was caught by Daedallen. The captain stood in the door to the room, his gaze passing over everything, taking it all in, then falling on Gatterly in his white robes.

Anger creased the captain’s brow and he stepped to within inches of Gatterly, Hagger pressing the tip of his sword to the lord’s skin hard enough that blood trickled down his neck.

“What are you planning?” Daedallen said, his voice pitched soft, but rough, like the first warning growl from a guard dog.

Gatterly’s eyes narrowed and he laughed, the sound cut to a short hiss as Hagger’s sword dug in deeper.

“You can’t stop it,” he said tightly, defiantly. “It’s already been put in motion. You can do whatever you want to me—kill me, even—but it’s already begun.”

Daedallen said nothing for a long moment, simply stared at Gatterly, until the lord swallowed, his gaze flicking toward Hagger, whose face was impassive, uncaring. Then the captain murmured, “You won’t die. Not for a long time.”

He turned, scanned all the rest of the Kormanley they’d captured, including Ibsen.

“Take them,” he said harshly. “Take them all to the Tower and find out what they know.”

Hagger thrust Lord Gatterly across one of the cells beneath the Amber Tower, the man grunting as he hit the far wall. Allan closed the door as three other Dogs fanned out around the lord. Gatterly pushed up onto his hands. Blood had smeared across his face, and livid bruises were already rising across one cheek. He hadn’t come willingly, and the Dogs had shown him no mercy as they hauled him out of his estate.

Looking up from where he sprawled, Gatterly reached up to wipe the blood from his lips and sneered at Hagger.

“I’m a lord of the Barony,” he said. “You can’t touch me.”

Hagger’s resulting smile sent a shiver through Allan’s spine. “You’re not a lord any longer.”

He glanced toward one of the other Dogs, who moved to a narrow table against the far wall and tossed down a leather case. Metal clanked, the sound dulled by the leather, but as he untied the bundle and rolled it out he made certain Lord Gatterly saw the array of knives, hammers, and other implements that were secured within. Fear shot through the lord’s eyes for the first time, and Allan felt his stomach roil in distaste. He shifted where he stood by the door and Hagger shot him a dark look that he couldn’t interpret. Coldness settled against the back of Allan’s neck and he stilled.

Hagger’s attention shifted back to Gatterly. He moved forward and knelt at the lord’s side. “You already know what’s coming,” he said, his voice reasonable, and as if on cue a hollow scream came from one of the adjacent rooms. “Tell us what you know and it will go easier for you.”

Gatterly shifted into a sitting position. Hagger tensed, although his eyes brightened, as if he were hoping the lord would try something. “I know what happens down here, yes. And no matter what I say, you won’t believe it’s everything I know. There’s no such thing as ‘easy’ once you’re taken by the Dogs.”

Hagger grinned. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

He glanced toward the two remaining Dogs and motioned with one hand as he stood. They pounced on the lord, wrestling him to the stone floor on his back, pinning down his arms by thrusting the heels of their hands into his shoulder joints. Gatterly kicked his legs out, trying to catch Hagger as he stepped away, but the third Dog stomped on the lord’s stomach and sat on his upper thighs. With cold efficiency, he tied restraints around Gatterly’s ankles and knees, cinching the leather straps tight, binding his legs together. He could still bend at the waist and knees, but his motions were awkward and obviously caused him pain. He snarled as the Dog stood and returned to the table.

Hagger had come to a halt next to Allan and now stood watching the lord with narrowed eyes. His hand massaged the handle of his sword restlessly. The same agitated excitement Allan had felt at Ibsen’s flat radiated from him.

Easing slightly away from him, knowing that Hagger was aware of his every move, Allan said, “I should probably go organize the wagons bringing the contents of the Kormanley room to the tow—”

“No. You’re staying right here. You’re going to help us interrogate him.”

The calm in Hagger’s voice, and the finality of it, forced the coldness at the nape of Allen’s neck to spread down into his shoulders. He licked his lips, drew in a careful breath—

And Hagger turned to look at him. His eyes were hard, and Allan could see the rage in them.

“Are you a Dog or not?” he asked.

Fear sluiced down through Allan’s arms, tingling in his fingers, but he steeled himself, forced his expression to remain neutral. He’d done it so many times before with those the Dogs captured, and with Hagger, that it came naturally. But his stomach churned. He didn’t dare move, like the hare who has just caught the scent of the dog and realizes it’s already too close.

Hagger reached up and grabbed him by the neck, a hold half friendly, half brawl, his fingers digging in painfully even as he smiled and tugged him toward Lord Gatterly. “I think you should break him in, don’t you agree, boys?”

The other three Dogs grinned, and Allan suddenly realized they were three of Hagger’s staunchest allies, the ones he’d hand-picked that morning for the group set to follow the Hound. He should have noticed it earlier, but hadn’t, too distracted by the activity as they’d arrived with the wagonload of Kormanley, the chaos as the Dogs descended on the group with ley globes blazing, Captain Daedallen barking commands in the background. He hadn’t paid attention when the Dogs were split up, the prisoners separated.

Cursing himself, he let Hagger lead him to Gatterly. “Now straddle him. Keep his legs immobile.” The elder Dog emphasized the order with an excruciating pinch of his neck muscles before thrusting him forward and retreating to the table where the third Dog stood.

Allan hesitated, but only for a breath, aware that the two Dogs holding the prisoner were watching him. He straddled Gatterly, the lord grimacing and wriggling until Allan dropped to his knees, captured the lord’s legs between them to keep him from bucking, and then sank his weight back to hold him down. This close, he could smell the fear sweat on the lord, even though his face was twisted in disdain and defiance. He met Allan’s gaze and Allan’s heart wrenched inside his chest. Gatterly knew what was coming, but he was attempting to hide it.

He wasn’t going to break easy.

Hagger planted his feet to either side of Gatterly’s head, wrenching the lord’s attention away from Allan.

“We know you’re Kormanley. Ibsen’s presence incriminated you, even if we hadn’t found you in the middle of a meeting. What we want to know is what you have planned for the Baronial Meeting.”

“As I said at my estate,” Gatterly spat, “it’s already been set in motion. You can’t stop it.”

“Then there’s no reason not to tell us.”

Gatterly said nothing, merely smiled.

Hagger looked up at Allan. “Hit him. Don’t break his jaw.”

Allan had been expecting it. His arms still tingled with numbness, but he balled his hand into a fist and punched Gatterly as hard as he could high in the face, the shock of it jangling up through his wrist into his elbow. Shock also crossed Hagger’s face, there and then hidden in the blink of an eye. Gatterly’s head slammed back into the floor and he cried out, then spat blood to one side. His breath quickened, but Hagger didn’t give him time to recover, growling, “Again.”