Darkness Falls (Tales of the Wolf) (29 page)

When Anasazi heard the music, he turned to face the minstrel and immediately recognized Rhea Nightingale. The tune she was playing had a kind of spring and lilt to it that was completely indescribable in words. But more than seeing her in the Inn was seeing who was sitting right next to her, Tallon. He was playing a bouzouki, a type of mandolin, and was keeping perfect time with the renowned bardess.

“He has the makings to be a great bard,” came a familiar voice from behind him, “if he survives, that is.”

Anasazi turned find an old blind man leaning on an ebony staff and ‘looking’ at him. The ancient shaman studied him and searched his vast memory for who this man could be. He had that nagging suspicion that he should recognize him but did not. Suddenly, it was almost as if the visage of the old blind man slipped away and Anasazi finally recognized him for who he was.

“Father!”

The old man moved forward and placed one hand on his child’s shoulder. “I am known as Mithra or Master Pau for now. Come wayward one, we have much to discuss.”

Rhea Nightingale glanced up from her lessons with Tallon and smiled when she spied the trickster being led off into the back rooms of the Inn. One more piece of the game was being moved into position.

Soon it would be the time of the Nine. When the Chosen One would break from the darkness and embrace his destiny. It was not time, not yet but soon.

Chapter 31

It had been two days since they had returned from their mission and the assassins had learned a lot about the other failed attacks. There had actually been six assassinations scheduled and only theirs had gone off without a hitch. Well, there had been a minor snag in the fact that the orcs who had been directed to attack the inn had disappeared without a trace but their failure had not affected their mission.

One other team had completed their assassination but had been completely wiped out in the attempt. However, since the Minotaur king had perished from the poison one of the Sicárii had managed to infect him with, the fallen assassins received credit for the kill and with that, brought honor to the Dôminus. The King of Krantos had survived his attempt but rumors had it that he was critically injured in the attack. According to those same rumors, two Sicárii had been captured but had both committed
puputan
, a ritual suicide taught to them in the Lüdüs for just such an occasion and again, their actions brought honor to the Dôminus. Of the other attempts, all three teams had been decimated before they even reached their marks. Actually, four Sicárii had been captured and were being interrogated. The rest of Gray’s team had been sent to dispatch these weaklings. Kralm had made sure that everyone knew that all four of them were recent graduates of the Lüdüs and had received the Kingslayer’s personal seal of approval.

As Gray and Galvorn entered the cavern, they blasted with a wall of hot air. Not uncomfortably warm air but sweat pouring heat. The Scriptorium had been under a constant state of construction for the past five years and each time the assassins passed through it, they took note of the changes.

In the early years of Lalith’s reign, three gnomish brothers who were brilliant engineers but ostracized by the gnomish community due to their outlandish concepts approached her. Each of the brothers took turns pitching their projects. The eldest brother was put to work immediately designing and building a fleet of ships that would revolutionize naval combat. However, it was the middle brother’s idea that she was the most interested in. His concept was relatively simple. He wanted to create a series of gates that were both magical and mechanical in nature that would transport anyone using them from one gate to the next, no matter the distance.

Lalith immediately
recognized the logistical advantage this would give the Dark Alliance if it worked, and had approved the program. There had been three major problems that Bathath the engineer had to immediately overcome for construction; it was expensive, very energy intensive and slightly unpredictable. Lalith had not cared about the cost and even helped in tweaking the gnome’s original idea.

To solve the energy problem, Lalith had directed the Scriptorium be constructed overtop an active volcano. The heat and light from the lava below would provide power to the gates and were shunted to the gates via pipes and tubes. Bathath had foreseen how the Scriptorium could grow and had constructed his platform in the shape of a huge wheel that constantly turned slowly.

Then, there was the unpredictability factor. Technically, the gates were bridges between two specific points via the Shadow Realm. As a person stepped through one gate, they had to walk a short distance through the unpredictable plane before exiting at another gate. Each path was clearly marked and everyone was warned not to step off the path. Inevitably, someone would use the gates that were easily distracted and they would disappear into the nothingness.

Gray and his team had used the gates many times. He and Galvorn seemed to be completely unaffected by the transition through the Shadow Realm but that did not hold true for everyone. Mouse and Falcon in particular hated the gates and dreaded anytime they used them.

Gray had often wondered what the third and youngest brother’s idea had been, since he was the only one that Lalith had not approved of and no one ever talked about him. Galvorn had thought it foolish to even think such thoughts, not in the fact that Grim obviously disagreed with his mother but more that it was strange that he would wonder about such things.

The two Sicárii hopped in line behind three spellcasters and two warriors that were waiting to use the gates. Technically, they had the authorization to skip to the front of the line but they rarely used it. It was another one of Gray’s oddities but Galvorn had seen the value of being polite. The simple fact of waiting their turn and saying thanks to the gate operators had helped them develop an unlikely friendship with the Chief Engineer.

Bathath had let slip one time that he had figured out a way to expand the travel to non-secured locations but at the moment, it was too energy intensive and shut down the portal for several hours after every use. According to the guidelines set by the Dark Lady, that was unacceptable except in extreme emergencies. Right now, Bathath’s primary goal was to make the gates viable for two-way travel. Not that the gates in the remote strongholds couldn’t be used to send someone back, they could, but to do so required the life force from three sentient beings to open the bridge. The eccentric gnome hoped to make the gates more cost efficient.

A familiar voice cut through the silence. “By the black blade of Nox, Shadow and Stalker waiting in line.”

Both Sicárii looked up with their hands on their weapons and paused when they recognized the speaker. Darnac was on one of the catwalks that spanned the molten rock. He was dressed in his traditional black chainmail vest, black leather pants and boots and a wearing a two-sided traveling cloak with the grey toward the inside and of course, the black side out.

Galvorn shouted. “Darnac!”

Gray simply bowed his head in greeting. “Kënnári.”

As the three warrior-assassins exchanged greetings, they pointedly ignored the stares and glares they received from those nearby. Every member of the Dark Alliance knew of the Sicárii, the elite assassins that the Dark Lady relied on to do the most dangerous missions. Many had heard of Shadow and Stalker but everyone knew of the Blademaster of Avaris. His exploits were legendary.

Galvorn beamed as he asked, “Where are you off to?”

“Your mother has me investigating the failed assassinations.”

Gray cocked his head to the right. “Why? Isn’t their failure obvious?”

Darnac shrugged. “Could be. I agree that these new Sicárii are vastly undertrained when compared to your class but I would rather be certain than to just assume. There could be other variables that have more ominous overtures.”

Galvorn asked, “Such as?”

Darnac rubbed his chin. “Why did every distractionary attack fail? Were the targets just that lucky or was it something more? For that matter, if the failure of the new Sicárii is the fault of the Kingslayer then how does that affect the secondary forces? They had nothing to do with the lesser Sicárii in training or out in the field. So how are they connected?”

Gray nodded. “Good point.”

Darnac looked around to make sure that no one was in earshot before speaking in hushed tones. “There has been a rash of failures and defeats in every campaign that the Dark Alliance has been involved with and there are no common threads. Different areas, different commanders and even different meetings. I can only think of two reasons that fully explains the situation but neither bode well for the Dark Lady’s armies.”

Galvorn furrowed his brow for a moment as he thought about it but could not come up with an answer that fit the problem. So he asked, “And they are?”

“Someone leaked the information to our enemies or…”

“Or somehow they knew we were coming,” interjected Gray.

Galvorn asked, “Isn’t that the same thing?”

Darnac shook his head. “No. The first option would be bad but the second option would be worse, much worse.”

Galvorn chewed on his lip for a second. “I don’t understand.”

Darnac gazed at the young half-dark elf. He loved the young warrior as if he was he own son but it was times like this that he realized how sheltered a life he really had lived. The Blademaster glanced at his other student and raised one eyebrow in a silent acknowledgement.

Gray nodded. “The first option implies a traitor in the Dark Lady’s camp but for them to know as much as they did about all of the operations in different campaigns, then he or she must be high in the command structure. This is bad, real bad.”

“But you said the second option would be worse. What could be worse than a traitor?”

Darnac locked eyes with Gray before responding. In that one moment as the Blademaster studied the storm grey eyes of the half-elf, he knew that his student was a true believer and had been brought up to revere the Dyhana just as he had been.

Darnac nodded and turned his attention back to his favorite pupil. “There are forces in this world that are more powerful than even Clotho. Typically, they let us mortals blunder through life unassisted and blind to their involvement. But occasionally, the Gods take a more direct approach or should I say a more hands on approach.”

“Seriously? You think the Dyhana are helping our enemies? Impossible. My mother has told me time and time again that the gods are trapped in another dimension.”

“We all have our own beliefs.” Darnac shrugged. “I believe that the gods are not as helpless as Clotho would have us believe. But then, that’s a part of my faith. I’m not asking you to believe. You asked for a reason, I can only ask that you consider the possibility.”

Galvorn nodded slowly. He was having a hard time picturing the deadly Blademaster as a follower of the Dyhana. He had been taught his entire life that Clotho was the true goddess of Terreth and all the prophecies concerning her fall were nothing but lies, told by the
peasants to perpetuate their false religion. But if Galvorn was completely honest with himself, he knew what his teacher was saying to be true. He had never bought in to the savior story of the Spinner but then, he had not really believed in the tales of the gods either.

Darnac discerned that his Onus was having difficulty with the current subject and knew that it would be best not to overwhelm him…at least not yet, so he changed the subject. “I understand that you two are enroute to the Lüdüs to test the Kingslayer’s latest class.”

Galvorn was grateful to have something else to talk about and nodded. “Yes Kënnári. The Dôminus wants us to embarrass the Kingslayer if at all possible.”

“That shouldn’t be difficult. Remember your training and demonstrate to them what a true Sicárii is supposed to be. I have faith in you two.”

Gray grinned. “Thank you Kënnári.”

“However, I must warn you about the Blade.”

Galvorn snickered. “Zivën? I hear he’s gained at least forty pounds in the last three years.”

Once more Darnac shrugged. “Possibly but that doesn’t negate the fact that he is still the Blademaster of Timgâd and a member of the Council of Shadows.”

Even if his half-brother did not understand that their teacher was trying to warn them about something, Gray did. “Do not worry Kënnári. We will not underestimate the Blade.” He elbowed his brother in the ribs. “We will Gal?”

“Oww. No, no we won’t.”

“Good.” Darnac nodded and thrust a small ebony box into his Onus’ hands. “Then give this to the old bastard.”

Galvorn looked down and knew the answer before he even asked the question but could not help himself. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Aye…I will be traveling on the anniversary and I don’t want him to think I’ve forgotten.”

Both Galvorn and Gray laughed. There was little doubt that Zivën would ever forget that the years were closing in on the day that Darnac would be free to enact his revenge.

“Just be careful. I don’t trust the Kingslayer any more than I trust Zivën. Both are snakes that would just as soon bite you as look at you.” Darnac slapped his favorite students on the shoulders and grinned. “I must get going. I have a lot of ground to cover in my investigation.”

The three warrior-assassins exchanged their farewells and the two Sicárii watched as their teacher walked over to the closest gate, cut in line and stepped into the glowing darkness. One moment he was there, the next he was thousands of miles away.

Gray tugged on his half-brother’s sleeve. “Come on. We have our own mission to complete.”

Galvorn nodded and the two friends flashed their
credentials and stepped in front of the waiting spellcasters. Before they had a chance to really complain, the two assassins were gone.