Authors: Saje Williams
Sword and Shadow
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
2932 Ross Clark Circle, #384
Dothan, AL 36301
Sword and Shadow
Copyright © 2007 by Saje Williams
ISBN: 1-59998-253-6
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: January 2007
Sword and Shadow
Saje Williams
Dedication
To my wife, the one and only Shaiha.
Sword and Shadow
Chapter One
His name was Raven.
He stood in the deserted square at midnight, a large black hat pulled down to shadow his eyes, his long black coat whispering around his tall frame as the cool ocean wind tugged at its edges and fog rolled around his feet.
A storm is coming,
he thought, with a glance to the west.
And it’s
going to be a bad one.
In the distance, he caught the sound of boots rattling against cobblestone and he knew the men of the watch approached at last. The shadows broke and five figures jogged into view, the dull clinking of their chain mail echoing in his ears like the ringing of a thousand tiny bells.
Sergeant Goban halted right before Raven, looking him over in a brief, unconscious gesture. He knew Raven—knew Raven’s hard-earned reputation as the city’s chief thief-taker, but an aura swam around Raven that made even the toughest man wary.
And Goban was one of the hardest. Ten years spent as a caravan guard, then five running what some laughingly called the most elite squad in the watch had honed him to a razor’s edge. The jagged, puckered scar marring the left side of his face from the corner of his eye to the edge of his mouth definitely gave him a sinister, rakish air.
Despite his unfortunate appearance, Goban was known for being as solid as the day was long, a rare find in a city as corrupt as this one, and in a profession as dirty as his was known to be.
Rather than being drummed him out of the service because he didn’t participate in the graft prevalent throughout the rest of the constabulary, Sergeant Goban had been assigned to the most impoverished district, where no one had the money to engage in the game in the first place.
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And there was so much crime in the poor quarter that Goban, alone of all the watch sergeants working Quinal, welcomed the occasional help from a thief-taker like Raven.
It was a fragile thing on which to build a bridge of trust, but it was all they had.
Raven let his gaze pass across the assembled watchmen, not needing any particular empathic ability to sense them shrinking away slightly.
One man paled and whispered to his companion with a shudder. “T’aint natural, I tell you.”
And he, of course, is quite correct. Not that I’m going to tell him that.
“I assume you called us down here for a reason, thief-taker?” Goban was brusque, as always.
“I did indeed. I think I’ve found the source of Dark Dream.”
This
got their attention. How could it not? They’d been looking for whoever was making or bringing in that drug for almost ten years now to no avail, suggesting to Raven, if to no one else, that it was most likely an out-world operation. The purpose behind it, however, remained as much a mystery to him as to the likes of Goban.
“Where?” Goban asked. “I have some favors I can call in—get us an extra fifteen men for the raid.”
Raven shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Anything overt would be dangerous as hell, and most likely get too many men killed. I believe one of the ringleaders is a warlock.”
The men made warding signs and muttered amongst themselves.
Raven suppressed a sigh. He hated using the term
warlock,
but that was this world’s title for a rogue mage. Considering that any not okayed by the Church was declared as such the first time he or she cast a spell, there were far more unlicensed ‘warlocks’ here than accepted magi.
Goban snorted. “The one thing I
ain’t
doing is going to the Church for help. I’m not owed any favors from
that
quarter.”
Raven nodded. The Church of the Three-Fold God was as political an organization as existed here. The Church did very little for anyone that didn’t benefit it directly and expand the scope of its own power and authority. Keeping the city’s poor from dying in droves from the side-6
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Sword and Shadow
effects of a particularly nasty drug apparently didn’t fall under that category.
The one thing he wasn’t telling them—the one thing he
couldn’t
tell them—was that magic wasn’t their biggest concern should they decide to raid the place. Raven had recognized the weapons some of the guards carried―weapons that, by all rights, shouldn’t have even existed here.
Someone was supplying this bunch with items they shouldn’t have, and that sent up the biggest red flag of all.
Raven had to call in to base. He didn’t want to, but he knew the rules. Hated the rules, but that was another issue entirely. He’d signed the goddam contract before he’d stopped to consider the ramifications and so here he was, playing this damnable game in a context he honestly wanted no part of. Back home, he’d been one kind of enforcer, until circumstances had made retirement an option, but now he found himself back in the thick of things as yet another. Or a spy at the very least.
Hardly what he had expected of eternity.
Now the discovery of advanced weaponry meant they’d send a TAU
agent in to deal with that end of things. He much preferred to work alone, or, at the very least, be the one in charge of the operation. He’d been previously spoiled as head of the brigade in charge of chasing monsters and either conscripting them or destroying them utterly. The idea of being forced to share authority here because of these damn weapons seriously grated on his nerves. He found himself half-tempted to charge in and mop the floor with the lot of them and let the chips fall where they might.
But he hadn’t survived this long by letting his irritation get the better of him. Patience was a virtue of his kind—one of the few that came naturally, to be honest. He could be patient. But someone would eventually pay for this aggravation. That was a promise he made to himself.
“So what do you want us to do about it?” Goban growled irritably. “Or did you just call us out here into this soup to tell us there’s nothing we can do?”
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Saje Williams
“Not quite,” Raven sighed. “I wanted you to be aware of what was going on, and let you know that I’m working on a solution right now.”
“And what can
you
do about it?” Goban asked. “You’re just a goddam thief-catcher, after all.’
Raven’s face crept into a slow smile that revealed a portion of the predator hidden not so far beneath the surface. Even the sturdy ex-mercenary quailed before Raven’s expression. “That is as it may be,”
Raven told them, “but I have a few resources you can’t begin to imagine.
And this is exactly why—to handle things that you people aren’t equipped to deal with.
“Keep that in mind,” he added coldly, “and I’ll keep you informed.”
Folding the night around himself, he vanished before their eyes.
Goban grunted, rubbing at his scar with the tip of a forefinger as his watchmen made the sign of the Triple God. The thief-catcher was a whole barrel of secrets just waiting to explode all over the place. But the one thing Goban knew was that he had the peoples’ best interests at heart.
Whatever else he was, Raven was one of the good guys. Scary strange, perhaps, but he could live with that.
Didn’t mean he had to like it.
Raven waited until half an hour before dawn to put the call into base.
It was an act of petty rebellion, but he just couldn’t resist the temptation.
He’d been heading into slumber by the time the sun rose, so if they sent the TAU agent in during the daylight hours, he or she would be left cooling there until the sun set. He found the thought vaguely amusing.
It wasn’t much, but it was one way to advertise his distaste for the new rules and the status quo. He had been much happier when TAU was doing its whole time-policing thing, before they abandoned that effort and went into technological enforcement instead. Now they were meddling in long-standing arrangements like his own and the whole situation had stuck in his craw like an errant drill bit at the dentist’s office.
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He descended into his basement, pressed the nearly invisible buttons, pulled the craftily hidden levers in specific sequence, and stepped into his combination crypt/communications center as the huge stone door slid back into place behind him.
He sent the message in a few short bursts, as agency protocol dictated. They definitely didn’t want to take the chance of anyone intercepting the signal and tracing him back to his lair. He waited for confirmation and then went to bed. Any further details could wait until nightfall.
As the sun rose above the horizon, his consciousness drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Valerie Winn stood on the threshold of the worldgate, staring at her control agent through narrowed eyes as she irritably adjusted her skirts.
“What kind of backwards-ass world is this, anyway?” she asked the elf through the slightly foggy duraplaz barrier separating the gate from its command module.
The elf, Kyubine, flashed her a brilliant smile and shrugged expressively. “When in Rome…”
“Spare me,” she sighed. “This is just so confining.”
He nodded. “I can understand that. The robes many of my people wear strike me the same way. Not suitable for a warrior, that’s for sure.
Just remember how much of a backwater world this one is and try to stay in character as much as you can. You’re unlikely to be in any real danger, and, if you are, your clothes are designed to tear off down to an armored single-suit so you can fight effectively.”
He beamed his elfin grin at her again. “Just try not to scandalize the locals
too
much.”
She stepped through the gate with a non-committal grunt. Of all places, she materialized at the top of what appeared to be some sort of clock tower overlooking a large and dingy medieval city. She wavered for a second, her mild fear of heights kicking in, but took herself in a firm grip and went to look for a way down.
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She found a trapdoor to one side of the bell-tower, slid her fingers under the handle, and lifted it gingerly. The hinges squealed, eliciting a wince as she slowly eased it open. A moment later she was scurrying down the ladder into the chamber below. Reaching the bottom, she smoothed her skirts and glanced around the small, cluttered room.
A sound from above jerked her head up and she swore silently as she saw the trapdoor being lifted above her head. Someone must have come through the worldgate right behind her. She glanced around, eyes stabbing into the gloom and dust, looking for a place to hide.
She darted into an alcove, wincing and biting back an involuntary shriek as she felt heavy cobwebs stir her hair and settle around her shoulders. She sank her teeth into her lower lip, hoping there weren’t any spiders lurking there.
She hated spiders.
She could still see the ladder, and watched in silence as a pair of booted feet emerged from the trapdoor, followed by a pair of billowy blue trousers framing a tight, rounded butt, a slim waist, a belt with a sheathed rapier attached, and a dark gray, equally billowy shirt.
The figure turned and she stifled a gasp.
A woman?
She smiled to herself and resolved to spend a few moments thumping her control about the head and shoulders for sending her here in this getup.
If that
creature can get away with wearing normal clothing, why the hell am I
crouching here in a goddamn dress?
The woman stepped into the middle of the room, brushing midnight hair from around her heart-shaped face with a casual sweep of her glittering hand.
Jeez, lady, have enough rings?
Val thought.
Another figure descended the ladder—turning at the bottom to reveal a roughly handsome face and a wave of long dark hair cascading over wide shoulders. His eyes seemed to glow with a strange orange light as his gaze shot through the gloom and impaled her where she stood.
Oh, shit,
Val thought.
“Well, what have we here?” the man asked in a drawling voice straight out of the heart of Texas. “It seems we’ve caught ourselves a pretty little bird. What do you think we should do with it?”
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