Shield and Crocus (20 page)

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Authors: Michael R. Underwood

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BOOK: Shield and Crocus
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Aegis bound up the stairs into one of the greystones. He heard his father’s voice in his head, saying,
Bad move, son. Unfamiliar territory, quite possibly a trap. Don’t go charging in. Check the doors; always keep an eye on the exits.

Aegis grabbed the doorway and slowed himself just inside the landing.
What did they want in here?
he wondered.
Random chaos, some vandalism, and intimidation, or were they sent by someone?

The old wood under his feet creaked as he looked down the hall. Nothing. He took a breath, listened to his senses and his intuition. The doorknob to the first floor apartment was overturned—probably being held by one guard, another two flanking with close-range weapons. He didn’t see any other entrances to the first-floor apartment.

There was no way to be sure how many had gotten inside. Nevri’s guards didn’t operate in groups that large, but everything was off-program, off-pattern. None of the thugs below were leading, which means he or she was in there somewhere. Or maybe they didn’t even have a leader.

Well, you have to start somewhere.
Aegis kicked down the door and dove inside end-over-end, coming up to face the guards he was satisfied but not pleased to see. There were three of them, all Ikanollo. Two men held foot-long daggers toward Aegis as a female guard in the middle reached up to draw a longsword from a back-slung scabbard.
Why did people insist on back scabbards?
They were uselessly awkward unless you had time to spare.

Aegis smiled. “I’ll let you surrender if you tell me Nevri’s latest orders.” The information they had was worth more than the satisfaction he’d get by leaving three thugs sprawled on the floor.

They did not oblige. The woman brought the broadsword forward in a powerful cut, her whole body moving with the blade.
Good form
, he thought, raising the shield at an angle. Her strike deflected and slid off to his left, lodging in the wooden floor.
Too much follow-through, though.

He lashed out with a right cross to the face, and the woman dodged back to take it on the chin instead of the temple. He pressed again and slammed her into the door as the other two closed.

He spun, putting his back to the door and faced the two men. Aegis took in the room behind them.

Bare walls and three rough-carved chairs around a wrought iron table, no sign of the inhabitants. Absent or hostage?
Aegis reminded himself to check once he was done with the trio.

The two with knives had enough sense to come at him at once, but not near enough skill to capitalize on their advantage. Aegis side-stepped to the left, out of the arc of one knife. He knocked aside the other with his shield.

Aegis pivoted back towards the guards, lunging to hit one with a shield-strike between the ribs. Then he pulled that guard off balance and sent them tumbling into the knife of the other, spilling orange blood across the bare floor.

Aegis backhanded the unimpaled guard with the shield and dropped the two to the ground. The swordswoman had picked up one of the knives and came at him again. But she held the knife like a sword, tried to cut him at distance.

“You can still yield and talk,” he said, covering himself with the shield as she circled.

The guard remembered herself and lowered the blade, then came in with a brutal underhand stab. Aegis tucked the shield down, leading her blow to slide off the side. He entered behind the shield and hit her with a body blow, then grabbed her dagger arm and tossed her over his shoulder, laying her out on the floor. He stripped the knife and made sure she stayed down. She obliged.

With the guards all dispatched, Aegis paced through the bare rooms, looking for inhabitants.

The washroom and bedroom were equally empty, painting a picture of an office worker—or other single soul fortunate enough to occupy Audec-Hal’s ever-shrinking middle class—with a narrow unmade bed, a half-full bookshelf, and the bedroom dusted in a coat of dirty laundry.

Out of the thoroughness instilled by his father, he walked over to check to the bedroom closet, and was rewarded by muffled whimpers from inside.
There you are.
Aegis threw open the lock and door to reveal a middle aged Pronai in a rumpled suit. The man dropped to the floor, hands and feet bound.

He squirmed on the floor at a panicked, comedic pace as Aegis took a knee. “Calm down. I’m going to untie you.”

Aegis pulled the sock from out of the man’s mouth, which let loose a flood of speech.

“By the city mother you’re Aegis never thought I’d meet you thank you wow.”

Aegis continued untying the man’s bindings. “Hello.”

The Pronai sat up, wringing his wrists in a quick pattern as he continued. “They said they were looking for the Shield-bearers and I said I didn’t know and—and then they tossed me in here and how long has it been, it feels like forever.”

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Farenkaonali,” the man said as one syllable.

“Mister Farenkaonali, I need you to calm down. Talk slowly if you can.”

The Pronai took a breath, and narrowed his eyes in focus. “Have they found him yet? First Sentinel? They kept on talking about First Sentinel, finding him, getting him.”
Oh no.
“what?”

“They said he was injured. They found out, wanted to get revenge for Nevri.”

Please don’t let them have found the safehouse. Or at least let Rova have fended them off. Now they’re going to hear I’m in the neighborhood and send more.

Sapphire’s alarm gem was flashing along with his. He toggled his alarm off so the others wouldn’t split up. “I’m sorry, sir, I have to go. Are you hurt?”

The man shook his head. “Just banged up a bit. I’ll be fine.” Aegis scanned the apartment quickly to make sure he didn’t miss anything, and then raced for the door. He called back to the Pronai man. “Thank you for the information. City Mother be with you.”

Please let me be in time.

* * *

The door to Mehgi’s building hung ajar, holding on by splinters to the doorway.

Sapphire, I hope you heard them coming.

Selweh scaled the stairs three at a time, solid rhythm betraying his arrival to anyone with half an ear to listen, but he didn’t care.

At the top of the three flights, he saw through an open door into the small room. A body was splayed across the threshold, one limp hand trailing over the lip of the stairs.

“Hello?” he called, holding the Aegis high without obscuring his vision.

“In here,” Sapphire said as she crossed into sight. Aegis breathed out, relieved, stepping over the body to check on his father. Wonlar was still in bed, unmoving and undisturbed, Sapphire standing above him. The floor was covered by a half-dozen bodies of the Plutocrat’s guard, broken and mangled.

“How did they find us?” she asked. “Did they follow me?”

Aegis shook his head. “It was probably me. We need to move him, immediately,” Aegis said, gathering up the bags, one eye on the door.

Sapphire nodded. “I was waiting for you to come back. Or for more of them.” She gestured at the unconscious thugs.

“Get him out of here as soon as you can.” Aegis held up the bracelet, tapping on Rova’s glowing gem. “Ghost Hands should be here soon, then the two of us will find you and we can get him to another safehouse. I’ll clean this place out before we leave, for Mehgi’s sake.”

Rova scooped First Sentinel up, one arm around his shoulders and the other under his knees. In her arms, he looked a sleeping child nestled against its mother’s breast.

Sapphire took a breath, something on the tip of her tongue tried to get out, but then she swallowed it. A beat later she said, “Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.” he knew what she wanted to say, and it was enough. The threads between them were woven by years of words unsaid, feelings buried for prudence’s sake.

Aegis gave her a smile. “Go.”

A nimble duck under the doorway and she was gone. Aegis wrapped the guard’s bodies in the linens and stacked them in the corner behind the bed, then arranged the trash and other supplies.

The room as clean as he could manage without supplies or storage, he took a seat on the on the foot of the bed and waited.
Come on, Ghost Hands. Anytime now.

Ghost Hands’ voice in his head. [
You’ve been busy. Where’s Sapphire
?]

“I’ll explain while we get rid of these bodies.” [
Lovely
.]

City Mother, protect her. And my father, too.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Sapphire

Douk was an excellent host, but he made an abysmal nurse. Rova had kept him out of the room, tending to Wonlar herself until Dr. Acci arrived. Wonlar’s fever had settled a bit when she got him set in the bed. She had even managed to slip some more water down his throat.

It had taken her more than an hour to get through both Nevri and the Smiling King’s domains, dodging patrols and roving bands of guards. She’d had to bribe three sets of border guards to get to Douk’s daily and safety, where she hoped Wonlar wouldn’t have to be moved again until he was well.

Come back to us. We need you. Selweh needs you, and this city needs you. If you die now, your spirit will linger, and the last thing I want to do is burn your body in a bed of sea salt and force you to pass along.

As Sapphire sat in the café basement, watching over Wonlar, she heard bells ringing in the distance.

They’d have to be the size of a Freithin or two Ikanollo standing back-to-back to be heard from the street. What would call for bells that loud?

The ringing grew louder, joined by muffled voices which Rova couldn’t quite pick out. Unwilling to leave her post and risk an altercation or discovery, she waited.

Come on, Douk. Of course I need him now, after I’ve sent him away.

Soon enough, she heard clumsy steps down the stairs and then a knocking code. Sapphire opened the door and a flushed Douk launched into rapid speech, almost as fast as an agitated Pronai.

“The summit! It’s starting tomorrow! The four tyrants are meeting, but they didn’t mention anything about Nevri or someone from her domain. They passed by with giant bells and a mass of troops wheeling a cart, with a Freithin herald bellowing the news. What are you going to do?”

Douk’s expression, though interested, was not so much that of concern as excitable curiosity.

Sapphire looked to the unconscious First Sentinel, and then turned back to Douk. “First, we have to call a meeting.”

Douk nodded and left. Rova sighed, rubbing her temples with both hands. This was First Sentinel’s role, or Aegis’s. The responsibility felt uncomfortable, it weighed on her, gripping tight around her throat, trying to take her breath.

“Aegis should be here soon anyway. Send him down when he arrives and we’ll talk it over. Just make sure they all know about the summit.”

Killing Nevri was supposed to stop the summit.
Now Dlella and Yema have united to ensure it comes to pass. The tyrants will band together and scour the city.
if Nevri’s domain was representative, they might have already started.

And our leader is still on death’s door with a rapidly approaching appointment.

Sapphire returned to the bed and knelt, praying to the City Mother that she might look after Wonlar, after Aegis, after them all.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
First Sentinel

When Wonlar woke, each tiny motion took an act of will. He felt like he’d hit himself with a dozen drainer disks.

Lucky old man, you should be dead. Then the two carry-overs from the past could be buried side by side.

Instead, he was surrounded by his friends in the basement of Douk’s coffeeshop. His bed had also become a desk, with maps and charts piled on the sheets. Selweh and Rova fussed over Wonlar like the caring couple they should be, doting on an invalid father. Douk brought
dounmo
tea; somehow just freshly steeped and perfectly hot as if he knew when Wonlar was going to awaken.

Truly a miracle-worker.

Wonlar grit his teeth and stretched out his leg. Over the course of several minutes, he moved, winced, collapsed, and then moved again until he had pulled himself up to a sitting position, propped up against a shelf with a sack of flour as his pillow. He looked down and there was a kingly meal on his lap—roasted chicken, root vegetables, and
yomu
-shell pasta with a red-pepper sauce.

“Douk, you should have been a chef.”

Douk smiled. “Actually, Selweh made this. It was the only way I could get him to take a break from watching you.”

“Tell me everything.” Wonlar took a bite of the pasta and listened.

They told him about the fights in the street, the succession conflict, and the summit’s beginning. He’d been out for a week.
I almost missed it all, and now I don’t have time to plan.

Wonlar blinked his eyes and focused on the scrawled schedule Selweh had put together for the summit. “We have to do something tonight, during their opening ceremonies. The tyrants will be together for the first time in years.”

Bira spoke in his mind. [
And they’ll be more heavily protected than ever
.]

She’s right.

He thought back to the early days, when the Shields were just a handful of upstart kids and one hero.
Go where they aren’t.

“And that’s why our target tonight isn’t the summit.”

Even grinning hurt, but he didn’t care. This was their chance.

“What, then?” Sarii asked, elbows forward on the bed. Wonlar smiled as broadly as he did when he was surrounded by laughing children. “The Tower. Tonight, we free the City Mother.”

Sarii threw her hands up in frustration, Bira asked, [
What
?] in an incredulous tone, and Wenlizerachi’s eyes crossed. Selweh was still, his brow furrowed in thought.

Rova leaned back, hand going to her chin.

“Even with most of the troops pulled from each domain, the Tower is guarded by all five of their forces,”

Selweh said.

Sarii shook her head. “None of them wants to leave the City Mother’s temple untended.”

Yes, yes. I didn’t say it’d be easy.

“But they won’t expect it. The tyrants’ best will be with them, Nevri’s succession is still unclear. The cover of chaos is our best asset right now.”

Selweh said, “But we’ll be going in a man down, and you’re the only person who has a chance of breaking the bindings.”

“I’m going,” Wonlar said.

“Don’t be stupid!” Sarii slapped his leg through the covers. Wonlar bit down on his tongue rather than wince.

“She’s right. You can’t be serious about going on a mission,” Selweh said.

Wonlar grunted.
Broken old man. If I had a new body, I’d storm the tower right now.
“how else do you intend to free City Mother when you get past the guards?”

“We should just wait until you’re healthy. There are plenty of things we can do to interrupt the summit,” Selweh said.

Wonlar took a breath, then a bite of food. He resettled and another wave of pain dropped him flat on the bed. Maps and plates toppled off, clattering to the floor.

“See?” Sabreslate said.
Damn her, she’s right.

“All right. Aegis, what are the other options?”

The flour pillow propped his head up enough to see the group, but he sat himself up again, despite the fresh pain. He took Rova’s offered hand, going slower that time.

Selweh stood and started pacing. “We can hit the meeting place, or make smaller strikes against holdings across the city to divert their attention. The longer they concentrate their forces, the more attacks we can make on their infrastructure.”

“Omez’s slave pens,” Rova said. “He’s built his numbers back up, almost as many as when you broke me out.” Wonlar nodded. “Good. More.”

“COBALT-3’s laboratory,” Selweh said, flexing his left hand. “Outside of her direct command range, the automata’s ai will be weaker.”

“Even better. What else?”

Rova glanced at Selweh, her gold thread of partnership dominant, keeping the jade in check. “With the right catalyst, we can start a riot in Nevri’s domain. Her lieutenants and thugs have been pushing people to the limit. It wouldn’t take much to tip them over the edge.”

“And rightly so,” Selweh said.

“What’s the catalyst, then?” Wonlar asked.

Aegis stopped in place. “I am. It’s been a while since I stirred up a good riot.”

[
Where do we direct the mob
?], Bira asked.

“Nevri’s security compound,” Wonlar said.

“So, what, they can give the guards crossbow practice?” asked Sarii.

“If we’re going to mobilize that many people, it has to accomplish something,” Selweh said.
Of course. But the compound means casualties. Lots of casualties.

“What else could we do with the mob?” Wonlar asked. “We do need to put the mob to some use, but can’t we send them after something less dangerous?”

Sarii sculpted a bland office building with a scrap of stone, holding it in her hand. “Central corporate offices?”

Selweh snapped, a thought striking him. “That or the Plutocrat’s bank.”

Wenlizerachi said, “The bank is protected as well, but it has more of a draw. If we did it, we could give people back decades of taxes.”

Wonlar set his empty plate aside. He barely remembered eating it. But hunger was good. Hunger meant he was healing, that he’d be able to rejoin the fight faster and end the war. Selweh took the plate and offered to get more. Wonlar waved him off. “Just tea.”

Back to business,
Wonlar thought, already feeling stronger. “Five Shields and a mob against the Plutocrat’s bank. You’ll need tools to get into the vault, unless you get enough Qava and Freithin in your crowd.”

Rova stepped back and walked around the bed. “We can handle the vault door. I’m more worried about their response team. Within half an hour we’ll have the whole security division on top of the bank anyways, and then the casualties will be massive.”

It’s a better plan than my suicide run on the tower. The tower can wait for when I’m better and we’ve whittled down their forces.

“It’s violent, it’s dynamic, and it necessitates a response. We’re striking in a weakened domain. We go tonight, unless someone has a better plan,” Wonlar said.

“I still think we’re overextending ourselves,” Sarii said.

She may be right, but we’ve come too far for caution.
“You’re the one who wanted us to do more, take risks. We don’t have the breathing room to play small anymore. Without the tyrants’ infighting, they’ll come down on us with everything they can muster, and we’ll constantly be on the run. Let’s at least make it a running battle instead of a dead woman’s chase.”

After a few more minutes of details, they were agreed.
Tonight the war goes to a new level, and I’ll be stuck in bed.
Wonlar sipped his tea and asked for the newspapers and reports. He had to catch up, and fast. They’d put the tyrants on the defensive. Time was always the ally of the establishment, and Wonlar was tired of waiting.

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