The Exodus Sagas: Book I - Of Spiders And Falcons (48 page)

Stares began to linger, seeing a hurried group with a gray minotaur, a golden haired noble elf, and the rest all together close. Saberrak and James paid it no mind, keeping to the main roads, ignoring any and all guards for the sake of speed. James realized the gray gladiator was now next to him, striding abreast of him, walking side by side. The veteran knight felt his strength and confidence rise with the unspoken presence of Saberrak beside him. Each step, he felt less alone, less at risk, and more aware of his surroundings, though he dare not say a word to the horned warrior. He did not know if it was scroll or axe that bolstered him, and he did not need to know.

They turned a corner, following the merchant stands in the cold midday breeze, the smell of salt water and sound of winter waves crashing were their guides. A pair of guards, dressed in the black tabards with red falconheads, shields armed and halberds high, moved in front of the two warriors leading the other three. The soldiers of Valhirst presented their arms to the knight. “Halt soldier of Southwind Keep, what is...” his body flew airborne nearly fifteen feet and landed into a fishmongers shop, his shield and weapon scattered. Saberrak smiled, his hand now going for his axe after the throw. James stepped to the side toward the other guard who was lowering the blade of his polearm. The knight slammed the steel head of the weapon with his shield, drew his broadsword, and pounded the man in the head with the pommel of the griffon hilted blade, knocking him out and to the ground hard. The two warriors kept moving, knowing that any obstacle was most likely their enemies trying to hold them up and report to someone they did not want to encounter.

“Well, so much for subtlety. They know we are here
now
.” the elven swordswoman drew her blades simultaneously, quickstepping to catch up to the minotaur and the knight. She saw the priest ready his shield, take a few breaths as he walked with eyes closed, and loose his warhammer from his belt.

The breeze turned into a warm wind, unnatural and misty, whipping up debris and dust and snow alike. Gwenneth concentrated on her energies and her awareness as far as she could. She felt something, not arcane magicks or enchantments, but different. Whatever it was, breathed and moved, compromised strong sources of something not entirely normal. “We have shapechangers ahead, watch the left street and the balconies!”

“How many?!” the horned warrior reached by a nearby armorer, lifting a single edged greataxe from the table with his left hand, ignoring the threats and commotion it left behind. There were yells of guards, thieves, and soon dozens were in pursuit of the five fugitives. Saberrak knew the man had many more weapons, he just needed this one for right now.

“Seven maybe eight!” Gwenneth yelled, chanting in arcane tongue after, her wand and staff each glowing green now.

“I see archers on the guard towers by the docks, how many I can not tell with this mist and wind, Gwenneth.” Shinayne was moving ahead now, passing James and Saberrak ahead on the left side of the alley they had turned down.

“And they will have trouble seeing
us
elf. I have a little surprise for them should they open fire. Do not worry, that is
my
wind.” her grin, which no one saw, was one of joy at the possibility of unleashing something painful at anyone that stood in her way.

“Doors opening from the warehouse on the right, careful now.” Azenairk said another murmured prayer to Vundren, blessing the battle that was about to ensue. Knowing they were being trailed, stalked from rooftops, and heading toward guards of Valhirst and shapeshifters unseen, Zen prayed for his allies as well.

The troupe was not about to stop, but found that their passage in this alley was blocked by ten men, one of them pointing a longsword and a dagger at them, smiling behind his grizzled shave, eyepatch and scars. “You are under arrest and are ordered to follow me to Prince Johnas Valhera. I hope you
do not
go peacefully.” Farrigus smiled a wicked grin and nodded to his men to move in. He then nodded to the rooftops, where several black eyed pale men scaled down the walls, their hairless forms barely covered in loose white clothing, emotionless, detached, and thin of frame. The doppelgangers raced down the sides of the buildings with ease, fearless and quick.

Farrigus looked to the elven woman with a devious eye. “Kill the men and the beast, save the women for me.”

LCMVXIILCMVXIILCMVXIILCMVX

The lady known as Jade of the West by the White Spider crept into the basement entrance of the old ruined church. Kaya felt the hot breath of Chalas Kalaza on her neck, and his hatred of her was a presence that she could not deny. The foul smell of the underground tunnel dragged Lady T’Vellon away from the shadow that the horned beast cascaded behind her. Cobwebs formed in the corners where no one walked in this old place, and the lantern was still in the same spot from years ago in her training. Kaya lit the wick with her flintstick, and the passage of crumbling rock gave way to stairs winding further down. Her thoughts swam with what could happen when she emerged into the heart of the White Spider, the throne room of Johnas. All she cared for was that she be spared and that enough guards were there to put this killer into the pit for his daring to abduct her. This creature had no conception of nobility, the outside world, or what he was about to endure at the hands of the deadliest assassins on the continent.

“Keep moving woman, you do not want me restless for I am hungry for many things.” Chalas snorted with his scarred mouth of yellow teeth and pulled her hair with a sharp tug to keep her attention. His right hand never left the hilt of his blade, and his dark ivory curled horns scraped the ceiling at various spots reminding her always of his close proximity. The murderous brute could taste blood in the air, human blood. He had been painted with it from his fallen enemies many a time.

“We are almost there. This stair leads down to the main corridor and then to Heathen who guards the inner chamber of my Prince. He will know where this other minotaur is, then we part ways.” her boldness grew stronger as she came closer to her allies, closer to Johnas Valhera.

“If you think I can not smell your treachery in the air, think again girl. You had better have twenty men in there if you hope to be rid of me. If you try anything at all, you will wish all I
did
was kill you.” This time he pulled her long hair and spun her around, forcing her eye to eye as he crouched to her level. Her shortblade drew out, pointed right at his chest, trembling. Anger erupted from her slate blue eyes.

“I have held up to my end of this,
bastard
, now let me go!” through gritted teeth she bit at him with threatening words that held no bluff whatsoever.

Chalas grinned again, eyeing her up and down. “That’s more like it woman, angry,
good
. I look forward to taking that out of you, slowly and painfully.”

Her shoulder shrugged away, turning defiantly and stomping toward the stone steps with pure evil behind her. Down the stairs the light floated, through an alcove and into a long corridor, where she had expected to see a great red minotaur waiting, but there was none. The double iron doors stood quiet and shut with no one to greet them. “Strange, there should be someone here.”

“Then go and open it.”

“They will kill me for entering before being recognized and announced,
idiot
.” Kaya raised her weapon again, slowly moving ahead, anxious to find out what had happened.

“
What a shame
, open it anyway.” his hot breath was mirrored by the sound of steel being drawn, a subtle threat that he meant to keep. “Unless you would like these walls to be covered in your blood now?”

“Very well, fool, but this could mean both our deaths.”

LCMVXIILCMVXIILCMVXIILCMVX

Farrigus lunged ahead again, this time getting a little closer with the dagger, yet still not passing the elven woman’s defenses. Her shortblade crosscut, knocking both his blades aside, then with her curved longblade, Shinayne cut across toward the man’s face. He ducked and spun, positioning himself with space between them and came back on guard. The elven swordswoman glanced at her allies, busy fending off doppelgangers who now had sharp bones protruding from their wrists used as weapons. The city guard that swarmed around the minotaur and James. She knew she had little time to dispatch this arrogant human leader, for surely more enemies in this cursed city were en route.

Azenairk Thalanaxe backed up a step, his shield high as the ominous creatures weaved their bony blades in a dance of sorts and closed in. Their faces pale blue-white and unsettling with the unblinking and enlarged solid black eyes with no pupils, their fanged mouths and pointed ears focused on the dwarf. He charged ahead, pushing one into the wall. His shield made contact hard, forcing him to regain his balance as he realized nothing was there, the creature had vanished. Zen looked down to see the head of the shapechanger on the long serpentine body of a snake at his feet. He kicked it square in the face, sending it skittering down the alley, where by flight’s end, it was upright and formed on two legs again. It turned, blue blood dripping from its mouth, and hissed as bones slowly rose from the wrists through the flesh. “These fiends do
not
fight fair!” the priest deflected more attacks from the second one, turned low and swung up from the ground landing the head of the hammer under it’s chin. The doppelganger landed on its back, hitting the cobblestone with a crack of bone and slap of flesh. Trapped in the tightening alley, Zen felt unsure about the fight at hand.

Green light flashed from the dark oak staff, causing the three men around her to blink several times and try and rub something out of their eyes. “
Gennerias delfe demiri
!” her hand pointed at each of them for a moment and young Lazlette walked forward past them, confident in their demise. A second later, three flashes of orange light erupted as clothes on the guards burst in flame sending stench and scream up the alleyway. Another guard charged her, lunged and chopped into her thigh with his saber. The clang of metal on metal echoed in between the high walls of dockside. Gwenne smiled wryly, noting her protections well concentrated upon made her flesh much like steel. The shocked guard reared up for another attempt, two hands on his blade this time. Her wand aimed point blank at his face and unleashed a white blast of heat and steam, knocking him down into fits of screaming agony.

The misty warm wind continued to shade the area in gray haze protecting them from the archers, the sound of battle soaring from the loud inner city. James ducked under a heavy slash from one of the young guards. His shield blocked the second attack and his broadsword countered with a quick cut into the boy’s ribs, and back across his chest, the steel slicing clean through. Standing to the knight’s left, Saberrak hacked both axes into the shoulders of his human enemy. Dropping him to his knees, the minotaur kicked him into the one charging behind, sending them both to the stone street. The force of the minotaur kick crushed whatever life was left out of the young guard, and before the other could get to his feet, he was cut down by two axeblades that buried deep in his chest. James followed behind the advancing gladiator, deflecting with his shield arm, then stabbing steel through the men on his right. Axes cut across necks and legs of those charging the knight from his flank, while perfect parries and short stabs and pointwork from the broadsword did their deeds on the left side. The knight and the minotaur moved ahead in advancing circles, slicing men down where they stood, pushing them back or cutting them to the streets now red with death.

Shinayne countered the longsword from Farrigus with her shortblade, and then cut diagonal from his shoulder to his thigh. The blade was stopped by a reverse held dagger, the steel screeching as the two locked together their four blades and pushed. The elven swordswoman felt her feet giving, feigned a look of distress as best she could, then fell into a backroll. Her longblade swung wide and arced across to deflect any pursuing attacks from the scarred assassin, who did indeed pursue. Her elven shortblade plunged deep into his stomach, making contact with what could only be his spine, then she spun on her heel, crouched low, bringing both blades whirling across the mans thighs, leaving two deep lacerations on each. Farrigus stumbled back, hurling his dagger as he fell, the tip landing deep in her bicep through the elven chainmail and leather guard. The man lay down, bleeding and helpless but to crawl, and the elf stood up, removing the dagger and holding her arm tight to her body, warm blood in the cold air caressing her left side. She raised her curved longblade, and made for the nearest doppelganger crawling over Zen.

The warhammer pounded again, splitting the head of the disturbing creature in three, yet it began to slowly reform as the others did, growing back together as flesh and bone became whole. He spun to the next one, finding himself quickly surrounded, and smashed its face with his shield, then thudding the hammer into it’s chest sending it to the ground. Yet again, it rose, hissing in pain, now walking on four legs, shaped like a prowling cat of hairless white flesh and fangs, adorned with bony bladelike protrusions and pointed ears. Zen felt a sharp pain in his calf, and then another as the swarm began to pounce and pierce their weapons into his open areas not covered with plate armor. His weapon swung again, making contact with, and splattering blue ichor all over himself from the close proximity. Then the motion stopped, white lights flashed in a garble of arcane tongue and then screeches from the fanged maws of the four that crawled about him. The doppelgangers froze, their skin turning scaly and dry, eyes glossing with gray cloud over black, and fell solid like stone to the ground. The dwarf looked up, seeing Gwenneth with her black hair swirling in the unnatural winds, her eyes of green aglow with energies and light that matched her staff and wand. She kept chanting, and the stone hardened like a prison being molded over them, through them, and then they cracked and fell to chunks of crumbling rock. As she began to stumble from exhaustion, the priest limped to his feet and let her lean on him to remain standing. The glow faded and Zen could see the weariness in her face, felt her body weighing on his. He walked her quickly toward the approaching elven swordswoman.