Twilight of Kerberos - [Shadowmage 01-03] - The Shadowmage Trilogy (Shadowmage; Night's Haunting; Legacy's Price) (33 page)

The courtyard swept before them as they entered, side by side. It was dominated by the keep and the five towers, but was still a vast expanse of open space within a city where real estate was usually at a premium. Around the walls that ringed the courtyard and keep were a myriad of smaller buildings; stables, storehouses, guard quarters, and forges. It was said that the Citadel could be closed for over a year and remain self-sufficient. It was only now that Lucius began to appreciate the grandeur of its design.

Guardsmen were already assembled across the courtyard, lined up in their respective units as they prepared to hand over the watch, long shadows cast from their stationary positions from the lanterns that bedecked the entire courtyard at strategic points, driving back the darkness. The visitors were shown by other guards to a waiting area in front of a wagon house, but Lucius and Adrianna had already split up, taking positions at either side of the crowd. It was not their intention to involve innocents in the attack, and by avoiding the centre of the onlookers, any reprisals from the guard were less likely to inadvertently catch one of them.

Taking a step to one side to put some more distance between himself and a family whose two children had thick Vos accents, obviously from the heartlands, Lucius held his breath as a guardsman approached him, arm held out to one side to guide him back into the crowd. Lucius nodded at the man, who immediately spun on his heels to return to his position a few yards away.

Peering through the crowd, Lucius tried to spy Adrianna, but she had disappeared. She had told him that she would wait for his move, that he would initiate the attack, and he hoped she was merely using subtle magic to conceal her presence, rather than leaving him out to dry. He doubted she lacked sincerity, but he could never quite tell where Adrianna was concerned.

A cheer went up from the crowd, as they all realised the ceremony was about to begin. This drew some frowns from the guard themselves, particularly the older men, but one young guardsman waved until a superior bawled him out, to the amusement of the onlookers.

Movement to his left caught Lucius’ eye, and another cheer was raised as the main gates of the keep were opened. From the darkness within strode von Minterheim, flanked by his entourage: six guardsmen in full dress uniform, only slightly less ostentatious than their captain’s breastplate, braids, feathered hat and jewel-encrusted sword. At his appearance, Lucius began to tap into the threads, beckoning them to his reach, but he held his mind steady. It would be too easy for the captain to retreat back into the keep if he struck now.

He watched as the captain and his men paced the courtyard with solemn duty, passing each assembled unit while inspecting each man. At times, von Minterheim would mutter a word to one of his entourage, and the man would stop in front of some poor guardsman singled out for discipline for some slight in his uniform, while the captain continued his march down the line.

This continued for some time, as every active member of the guard in the Citadel was reviewed. Lucius felt some sympathy for the guards who had been on duty for the entire day and were forced to endure this charade in the name of tradition and discipline before they could finally be relieved. Von Minterheim finally rounded the last unit, and strode confidently to the centre of the courtyard, where he nodded to a junior officer. The man gave an order to a unit of trumpeters who rang out a fanfare, the sound piercing the stillness of the evening air. The assembled units began to move, one watch being relieved as another came on duty.

It was a good a time as any to act, Lucius thought.

With so much movement going on in the courtyard, no one saw him slip from the crowd as he crept along the wall past the wagon house, and on past a set of stables. The horses whinnied quietly as he stalked past them, and their agitation gave him an idea.

Stepping inside, he cast about for dry hay, finding it baled near the back of the stables. Looking upwards, he saw more stored in the loft above, and smiled wolfishly.

Checking once more that no one was nearby, he outstretched a finger and felt the familiar surge as a small jet of flame short forth, instantly igniting a bale. It was a small fire, but it grew hungrily. Even as the horses began to stir, he conjured a ball of fire to his palm before launching it into the loft. There, it flashed briefly as it consumed more hay.

He smelt smoke rising to his nostrils, and hastened out, not wanting to be anywhere near the conflagration when it was noticed. Continuing his pace along the wall of the Citadel, he closed the distance to the Keep, wanting to cut off von Minterheim’s obvious escape route should the man try to run.

An cry from the crowd told Lucius that the mission had begun in earnest. Within seconds, guardsmen were charging across the courtyard to the stables. Sergeants screamed orders as buckets were grabbed from one of the storehouses and a chain formed to a well.

Von Minterheim had remained calm, though the man was scanning the courtyard, obviously searching for the cause of the fire, trying to decide whether it was an accident or something more sinister. As the man’s gaze swept over him, Lucius stopped in his tracks and crouched, tugging on threads to bring the shadows cast by the wall and its outbuildings around him like a second cloak.

It was then that Adrianna weighed in with her assault. Something crackled in the air across the courtyard before, from a cloudless sky, a bolt of lightning shot down from the heavens to strike one of the Vos units square in its centre. The luckiest men flew through the air as the ground exploded beneath them, while those closest to the descending bolt were boiled in their armour. A cry went up, and Lucius saw guardsmen point to the sky. Following their gestures, he looked, then gasped as he saw Adrianna, her powers manifesting themselves for all to see.

Her cloak billowing out behind her as tightly circling winds carried her aloft, Adrianna rose into the evening sky. Gesturing at the ground beneath the guardsmen trying to fight the fire in the stables, he saw their feet become mired as the earth turned to liquid beneath them. Adrianna paid them no more attention as she rose upwards to alight on the wall, now commanding the high ground and able to see the entire courtyard below her. Under the directions of an officer determined to take charge, squads of crossbowmen assembled in front of Adrianna, cranking their weapons back and sliding bolts into place before aiming them upwards.

With a series of clicks audible across the excited courtyard, dozens of bolts shot towards Adrianna, but she stayed her ground, merely holding up a hand to ward them off. As if striking an invisible wall, the bolts sheared off course just a few feet away from her, scattering themselves as they ricocheted back into the courtyard.

A few fell close to the crowd. Fearing they would soon be caught in a crossfire between Vos guard and Shadowmage, Lucius tugged a thread, and sent its energy surging into the fires of the stable. With a low boom, the flames suddenly swelled with intensity, sending the guardsmen fighting them reeling back in shock. The sudden flare and noise was enough to galvanise the crowd and, screaming, they fled as one to the gate. The guards stationed there were trying to close the massive portal, but the frightened people just surged past them into the city streets.

Directing more men towards Adrianna, who even now was racing along the wall for the cover of one of the small towers set along its length, von Minterheim made his move. Whether wanting to bring reinforcements into play or through self-preservation, he began to run for the Keep, his entourage close behind. Lucius was ready for him.

Drawing a dagger from his boot, Lucius forced powerful energies down its blade, feeling them pulse in anticipation of release. Stepping out of the shadows, he placed himself in von Minterheim’s path before launching the dagger with a straight throw.

Guided unerringly to its targets, the blade arrowed straight for one of the officers flanking von Minterheim, no spin upsetting the delicate balance of its flight. It ploughed into the breastplate of the man, a shower of blood erupting as the weapon tunnelled through his body without losing any of its momentum. As it blasted out between his shoulders, the dagger continued on its trajectory, and smashed into the chest of the officer behind, sending him flying to the ground with terrible force.

Instinctively, von Minterheim and his remaining officers drew their swords as they warily approached the man who had materialised out of the shadows before them. Lucius waited for them to make the first move, a faint smile on his lips as von Minterheim frowned in recognition.

“You,” the captain said, his voice low and dangerous, promising a slow death to any who invaded the Citadel.

“You have cost me the lives of many of my friends, you Vos bastard,” Lucius said, feeling both hatred and exaltation at confronting this man. “You are going to die slowly.”

Von Minterheim sneered, ignoring the explosions and lightning behind him as his guards tried vainly to bring Adrianna to ground. He nodded to his officers.

“Take him.”

The four surviving officers of the captain’s entourage spread themselves out, anxious to be the one to slay their superior’s enemy. Yet, they were wary of what Lucius could do, the corpses of their comrades a stark reminder that this stranger should not be underestimated.

“You are going to burn in hell’s own fire, warlock,” said one as he paced to one side.

“What do you know of hellfire?” Lucius cried out, releasing his anger as another ball of flame circled his right hand before being launched forward. The officer tried desperately to lunge out of the way, but the fire curved in flight to match his movements, striking him squarely in the chest. His dying shrieks were cut off as the fire eagerly consumed the air in his lungs, now exposed through the shattered remains of his breastplate and chest.

Sensing motion behind him, Lucius whirled round, collecting the air about him into a solid wall, before flinging it at his assailants in a single smooth movement. Hurled off their feet by the blast, he watched the officers collapse to the ground, then summoned the thread once more to gather the air above them. Going down on one knee to emphasise the action, he raised his arm high over his head, then swiftly dropped it, palm downwards. A sickening squelch echoed through the courtyard as the officers were crushed. In his mind’s eye, Lucius saw ribs break and organs burst under the weight before he released the conjuration.

Standing straight, he looked down at the dead men, their still faces contorted in terrible pain as blood seeped from their mouths. Grinning, Lucius looked up at von Minterheim.

“Who are you?” the captain asked, and Lucius was mildly surprised to note von Minterheim was more curious than afraid.

“Consider that a mystery to contemplate in the grave,” Lucius snarled, reaching out with a hand as a surge of lightning wreathed his arm. Unleashing the energy, he was stunned as von Minterheim raised his sword to block the attack, bolts of white light crackling around the blade as they were dissipated harmlessly into the air around him.

He had taken the weapon to be purely ceremonial, but cursed himself for not guessing that there was little in the Vos military that was not functional in the extreme, and that von Minterheim was likely rich enough to afford the best equipment in the Empire.

“Nice sword,” he managed to say, but was answered only with a derisive sneer as von Minterheim took two steps forward and swung the blade, the rare stones in its elaborate gold crossguard glinting in the fires spreading through the outbuildings of the courtyard. Lucius noted the markings etched into the blade as he pedalled backwards to avoid the blow, a fine script in some foreign tongue. The lettering glowed briefly with the radiance of the lightning he had thrown at von Minterheim, before they finally faded.

Another swipe forced him back, then another. He crouched down to reach for his remaining dagger, but von Minterheim gave him no room for pause.

Behind the captain, Lucius saw that several squads of guards had noticed the fight, and they rushed to join their superior. They fanned out to either side, weapons drawn, cutting off any chance of escape. Conjuring fire to his hand, Lucius held it low, waiting for his time to strike. He took another step back and felt the wall of the keep at his back. Looking left and right at the guardsmen, he saw grim faced men ready to take their revenge for the attack.

“Make it easy on yourself,” von Minterheim said. “Maybe we’ll give you a quick death. Once you have answered a few questions, of course. Just a gentle chat, then a quick hanging. Believe me, the noose is better than what my men will be wanting to do to you.”

The fire at his fingertips began to burn hot, its energies having been kept in check too long. Lucius took a deep breath as he prepared a last assault on the guardsmen as, pace by pace, they closed in for the kill.

“Adrianna, I could use your help now,” he muttered, and he was at least gratified to see a few of the guardsmen check their step, fearing he was vocalising some incantation that would bring death to them all.

He saw her then, standing on the wall across the far side of the courtyard. A guardsman lay dead at her feet, and she seemed to be staring straight at him, heedless of the bolts and spears that flew past her. A rush of air swept over him, a gentle breeze that reminded him of calm summer afternoons in the Anclas Territories, and the wind carried Adrianna’s voice to him, as clear as if she were standing at his side.

“Unleash the power, Lucius,” he heard her say. “Let’s find out what you are
really
capable of. Let the magic flow through you. Give yourself up to it.”

Von Minterheim had ordered the guardsmen to halt, and they stayed, weapons at the ready, less than a dozen yards away. Their ranks were held tight, at least three men deep, forming a barrier of flesh and iron that trained cavalry would have difficulty breaking. Smiling, von Minterheim took a pace forward and gestured to the ball of flame Lucius still held in his hand.

“Want to try your luck one last time?”