The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns (44 page)

“You know my loyalties, Johnas. I have spilt blood for the White Spider in eight countries. I am simply stating that the empire we are digging
into is entrenched in tradition and history. They will not deal with races that go against their
spiritual
beliefs, and they know that we do. They also know we al
low wizards to learn from books
and give women rank and title. This conquest of spreading our organization into the holy land of Altestan will be a bloody one. Many blades will have to cut in the night
to break through to the trade you seek.” Fadim bowed, yet maintained his dark eyes fixated on the emerald green eyes of Johnas Valhera. The Altestani man had been betrayed by his own people long ago, and his revenge had brought him to this place. He learned much of himself, and perfected his skills as a deadly assassin with the Prince. His revenge was taken over a decade ago, yet his passion was now for the hunt, the wealth, and the prestige he now held.

“Then cut away, Crimson
of the
North, cut away. Make the White Spider known in Altestan. Train your domenarchs for each city you take from below, send them to meet me and receive their brand, and let us take the trade we want by force and shadow. One of my eight deadl
iest and most devoted, Fadim, stay with me a week and let me prepare you for what you are about to accomplish for us.” Johnas knew that he would need to send for men, wizards, and plenty of coin to give Fadim what he would need to build their presence in the north. He looked at the opium pipe again and smiled.

“I would be most gracious and honored, my prince.” Fadim bowed once more, relaxing a bit. He remembered all to
o
well how Johnas could be when under the affects of opium.

“In less than a week we lock down the undercity of Valhirst and head west. I have to meet with a few less than savory leaders of various Chazzrynn natives. Salah-Cam is organizing them as we speak. This country will think twice should my uncle try and let his little whelp
bark at me again
. They will have far more than the White Spider to deal with if they do! Let us drink, to endless chests of gold, women,
blood,
opium, and power after the
sun sets and the moons rise!” t
ipsy and flowing on the drugs from the northern empires, Johnas stood and raised a glass of wine to his servants, slaves, and assassins. He admired the spread of his diabolical mind that had no conscience. His only care was more and more power, more and more of everything he could get, for it was never enough.
The wine, the opium, all Johnas was missing was some blood. “Balric, bring Fadim and I some prisoners…and give them swords!”

LCMVXI
ILCMVXIILCMVXIILCMVX

“Aaarrrggghhh! Ahhhayahhh! My hand, my focking hand!” Rinicus held his right hand tight, the pain and blood forcing his eyes shut as he screamed.

Chalas Kalaza dropped the two fingers he had just mercilessly ripped off of the human’s hand and stared at him. The scarred brown minotaur smiled knowing that it was far more painful than a quick cut. “Be thankful, human, that it was only a few fingers that I ripped from you.”

“Chalas! We were to cut off one finger, not rip half of his hand apart!” Kaya had her blade out, looking at the men who surrounded them on the balcony over the arena. She did not trust that they would respect her position as their domenarch was assaulted so brutally.
They had their hands on every variety of weapon, silent and waiting for a moment to strike.
“P
rince Johnas also demands thirty
thousand in gold coin for your disloyalty, Rinicus three-blades.”

“Three fin
gers is more accurate now
.” Chalas chuckled and began staring at the men around them who appeared to be having second thoughts about defendi
ng their leader against this vi
cious minotaur and
the deadly
female
assassin of the Prince’s council
.
The sadistic horned gladiator hoped that they tried something, just to give him reason to tear someone apart.

“Johnas has spared your life, I would be thankful. You know him well enough, tonight luck shined from somewhere. Going forward, you will tithe the coin gained from the underground arena as well as this one here. Understood?” Kaya T’Vellon spoke softly, sheathing her shortblade while she looked down at the man struggling to wrap his hand with his cloak. She felt numb, empty, as if this was just another wretch she had to deal with to stay alive. Her fear was placed deep where no one could see. The lady assassin hated being in these tight positions where rank and loyalty among criminals balanced her life on the edge of a knife. Unlike her counterpart who seemed to enjoy it, Kaya felt she had no choice and would give anything to be free of it. Sadly, this was all she had left, and she was good at it.

“Understood. Send the bastard my deepest focking apologies.” Rinicus stood, then leaned over to pick up his fingers that the minotaur had ripped from his hand. A heavy boot stepped over them.

“Those do not belong to you anymore, Rinicus of Devonmir. Show me to your underground arena, I wish to participate in some bloodshed.” Chalas beamed his gaze down upon the injured man, receiving a wicked smile backed with trembling fear in return.

“I would most enjoy seeing you in that arena, Chalas Kalaza, very much
so
.”
t
he criminal lord stood up to the horned warrior’s chest. “This way.”

Followed by nearly two dozen men and a wizard, Kaya and Chalas walked behind Rinicus through the stands and balconies of the
Tre’ hahdim arena
above ground
. Several human slaves currently battled four armored gladiators in the round pit as cheers echoed from thousands and coins passed hands through the masses. Black robed gambling merchants walked the rows and reaches of the populace, followed by wine and spirits vendors, children selling bread and foods, and finally the sultry pleasure companions of varied human cultures sold their bodies and escorted men to their rooms. Kaya noticed men fornicating in the stands, drunks asleep clutching their coin purses, calls and screams for blood, and illicit trade of slaves, whores, and drugs taking place every other moment. She kept her eyes lowered, having not the desire to
embrace or view humanity at it
s worst. She looked to the stalking minotau
r behind her. The opposite attitude
was apparent, Chalas had a grin across his bovine scarred face. To him, this was life and home.

The doors to an immense stone stairwell were guarded by obvious members of the White Spider who came to attention and bowed upon the passing of the ensemble.
No questions asked of Rinicus or his troupe, just a simple nod and passage.
Torchlight, some real, some arcane and false, covered the descent into the true underworld of Devonmir. A second set of double iron doors opened by the hands of two ogre slaves covered in spiked armor. Chalas snorted up at them, taunting them to make a move or a noise of disfavor; anything to give the brown horned killer a reason to spill blood.
The second arena was surprisingly different to the minotaur and the lady assassin. Intimate, smaller, set on dark stone seats and pillars, and reeking o
f expensive and savory incense.
Perhaps five
to seven
thousand could sit, and with it completely concea
led and underground, every breath
could be heard.

“Welcome to Ajastaphan
, the famed arena of the nobility, the wealthy, and those that do not wish to be seen. Most of the nobles from around the known world will be masked, the wealthy are well guarded, and the matches here are always to the death.
The
w
omen of the most beautiful sorts, the best slaves and gladiators, and more gold flows through here in one night than Johnas sees in a year. Problem is, we only have a foothold on a few moneylenders, merchants, and traders. There is little trust among the people of this class that travel from great distances
to gambl
e and promote gambling on blood
here.
One miscued greeting or blink, and you may not even be allowed to speak to that specific prince or lord again. These people have their own power and prestige, they do not seek
to be a part of anything else.
Should
any of them be found out here, it would tarnish their titles; so they live in that secret fear. It’s a game at the games for them.
We do what we ca
n to profit, and we do well
.
However, we are limited in growing in our normal ways, if you will. Murdering nobles here will only end the operation, not have use overtake it.
” Rinicus continued walking through the aisles of the hidden arena, holding his hand close to his chest. He thought of the ogre, armored trolls, captured giants, and all other manner of beast he would like to set against this minotaur and see him dead. His mind began plotting, hoping the brute would be stupid and eager enough to get in there.

“Any undefeated gladiators here, spared one?” Chalas demanded from the wounded human that led them, caring nothing for the debilitating injury.

“Mafahan
n
, the two headed ogre of Bloodskull. Twenty nine victories here, in other arenas throughout Agara, he supposedly has many more. His master is
one of the Lords of Devonmir, Koligail
the wicked, a wizard of the most feared sort. He adorns his chosen warriors with-“

“I
will fight this Mafahan
n
the two headed, arrange it.
I care not who his master is or what he wears. Every warri
or I face suffers the same fate
.
” t
he brown veteran horned killer glared at the arena, the craving and need to kill was overwhelming to him in a place like this.

“We have business to attend to Kalaza, and –“

“Quiet woman.” h
e snorted and flexed his muscles as if he were already fighting. Something, the smell of blood or the sight of the arena, came over him. “Place all your coin on
the ogre if you like, but
I
will be
the only undefeated one
here.”

“Your ego borders on insanity, minotaur. You know nothing of subtlety or tact, everything to you is rage and bloodshed. I wonder what exactly Johnas was thinking in sending you with me.” Kaya turned up her nose, realizing that Rinicus would be arranging Chalas to be killed which would leave her alone here with plenty of enemies within her own guild. She could not convey those fears, not with present company. Even in private with this murderous gladiator, she doubted that he would care.

“Mafahann usually faces three or more gladiators at a time, Kalaza. But for you, I will see if I can arrange a special match.” Rinicus sneered. He took good notice of the rivalry between Kaya and her pet beast.

Angeline II:II

City of Harlaheim

Light mist settled across the docks of Harlaheim, nighttime mists from a rain that was far too stubborn to commit to much more. The armored and green robed warrior had said her farewells aloud to the crew of the Shorewarden, the small merchant longship that she had been on this last week. Speaking her words out loud was still difficult for Angeline after seven long years of silence. The journey had been rough with the late winter storms in southern Agara, and it looked as if the eastern seaboard of the continent fared no better. Besides the lack of snow, Harlaheim kept the same chill at the forefront of greetings on a dark windy night. The lantern and torchlight seemed less inviting than her last visit to the kingdom many years ago, and her thoughts concentrated on her priorities at hand instead of comparing the dismal scene with more fond ones of her past.

Angeline tried to sense Gwenneth as she walked the docks alone, and could barely catch a glimpse of her spiritually. She thought of Soujan Mountain and Ansharr where she had spent several years in training with her peers and masters. From that vantage point, the mysterious lady warrior knew she could find anyone through peaceful connections and meditation. Here there was much chaos and disturbance tha
t clouded the energies she felt
, and her senses were always dulled in
large civilizations that forced nature out. She could feel wars raging and powerful arcane magicks in place near the tower to the wes
t. Castle L’Herrim had an enormous cry
of betrayal radiating from its walls, and many figures and spirits here were dark and wicked throughout the massive city. In all directions, Angeline Berren felt as if she were striding into a den of maliciousness and despair. The dark auras she saw and felt surroun
ded her, followed her, and prec
eded her every step.

Red
dish
and blonde
wisps of wet curled hair whipped acros
s her face, yet she kept focus
, one hand now on the hilt of her hand-and-a
-half blade. The pier was long
and relief came as she made it to the end and onto solid ground of the wharf markets. Though late and foul of weather, hundreds of men loaded, traded, and moved around the piers of the ancient city. Almost sixty tradeships of various s
izes and standards lined the bay
, hers was one of four that had arrived this evening which attested to the abnormal amount of late evening shuffling.
She stopped, sensing
her steps were being paid far too much attention to by someone nearby. Angeline drew her bastard sword, placing both hands on the hilt and turning round. Nothing. The sensation was gone, no longer behind her or to the side, in the water, it was simply not there anymore.
Besides the occasional elder wizard using arcane means to teleport in and out of physical existence in Vallakazz, Angeline had never felt something creep up near her and then disappear.
Seeing the strange looks from
passersby, the Agarian woman sheathed her blade and walked at a more brisk pace into the darker capital of Harlaheim.