The Sigil Blade (4 page)

Collecting the keys eagerly, Edryd rose from his chair. “I appreciate this Master Greven,” he said. “If you can think on it tonight, when I return these in the morning I will get your recommendation regarding whom I ought to see for credit on reasonable terms. I will make certain that all of this will have been well worth your time.”

Thanking the innkeeper one more time from the rear entrance to the inn, Edryd stepped out into the dark night air.

Chapter 2

Aed Seoras

W
ith his cloak swept back, hanging freely from where it was secured over his shoulders, Edryd took a deep breath and walked out into the courtyard behind the inn. The rain had stopped, but the air remained damp and fragrant with the smell of wet stones and moistened earth. An easterly wind carried a hint of the ocean, feeling cool against the skin on his neck as he made his way across the smooth cobbles beneath his feet.  Twenty yards from the inn, with a low wall around its circular edge, a large community well stood in the center of the courtyard.

Choosing an angle that would skirt the edges of the wall around the well, Edryd made his way across the open space. The area was roughly squared by the boundaries of several large residential properties. Houses on each site, built two or three levels high with fine quarried granite blocks, overlooked the square. Most, including the home Greven had mentioned, were in various stages of progressing deterioration. Edryd could not connect the knowledge with anything which he had heard or seen, but he was aware that someone had followed him out of the inn and settled into the shadows against the establishment’s back wall. Edryd could feel the man looking at his back, waiting for the right moment to advance. Warding off a natural impulse to pause in response to his discernment of the threat, Edryd constrained his reaction and took care to maintain an uninterrupted bearing and manner.

As Edryd approached the center of the courtyard, the man pulled away from his position against the back wall of the Broken Oath. It was then that Edryd noticed, hidden behind the far side of the well, a partner to man who was at this moment slowly closing in on his back. This second man, who lay in wait behind the well, wasn’t in view now, but some movement made in anticipation of his approaching target must have alerted Edryd to his presence. Not willing to oblige his attackers by crossing into the range of whoever was skulking behind the well, Edryd turned to confront the man behind him, who was still about thirty feet away.

Edryd could not clearly see the man’s face, which was broad and flat with no resemblance to any of the men he had seen inside, but his intentions were clear from his aggressive posture. He, along with his partner hiding behind the well, intended to ambush a lone unsuspecting victim. Edryd was alone, but he was not the sort of prey these men would have chosen if they had known him better. “Close enough,” Edryd commanded, freezing the man in his tracks.

Under the faint light of the stars, and a moon which was nearly full, Edryd could see surprise and frustration on the man’s bearded face. Taking advantage of the pause his warning had created, Edryd evaluated the threat. The attacker was broadly built and stood several inches taller than Edryd. Looking for escape routes, Edryd’s attention was drawn to a passage that lay between the inn and an adjacent merchant’s shop. He peered intently for a moment into that narrow alleyway. It was completely dark and revealed nothing, but Edryd could feel a presence there. Thinking about this third attacker and wondering how much worse things could get, Edryd reflected with regret upon the decisions that had led him here. It had clearly been a serious mistake on his part to enter this town unarmed.

Returning his attention to the bearded attacker who had followed him out of the inn, Edryd did his best to match the man’s menacing stare. The broadly built thief appeared unwashed and poorly groomed, but his black woolen coat and simple belted pants were remarkably well maintained and clean. Edryd decided it was reasonable to believe that the freshly laundered clothes were probably stolen. Then again, how this giant of a man had found someone else’s clothes, which were so well-tailored for such a large frame, Edryd couldn’t imagine.

The big man’s eyes shifted, drawn towards something over Edryd’s right shoulder for a brief moment, before returning to focus on Edryd. His partner has left his cover Edryd realized. Continuing to look forward and pretending to be oblivious to anything but the heavyset man in front, he focused his concentration on the enemy creeping up behind him, listening carefully for the soft muted scrape of leather boots against damp paving stones. Struggling against the urge to tense up, Edryd waited until he could all but feel the man standing behind him in preparation to deliver an attack.

Holding a heavy rock in his right hand, the man swung it downward with great force, hoping to take Edryd down without a struggle. Timing his move for this moment, Edryd turned on his right foot, and bent his knees sharply, bringing his body into a low crouch. The blow, which had been aimed at the back of his head, missed high, leaving his attacker off balance. Edryd grabbed hold of the man’s coat with both of his hands and surged back up into a standing potion, lifting his attacker slightly as he did so before slamming the startled man back to the ground. The man landed square on his back with a soft grunt as air was knocked from his lungs, followed by a dull thud when the back of his head struck hard on the stone paving.

Edryd had no time to make sure that his downed opponent would not get back up. The other attacker had already closed the distance between them, moving with more speed than he reasonably could have given such a large man credit for. It was too late to evade the reckless charge, too late to do anything but turn and brace against the unavoidable collision. Trying to ward against the impact, shock surged through every joint in Edryd’s frame as he met the crash. His upraised arms absorbed very little of the overwhelming force from his more massive adversary, but Edryd maintained his footing, desperate to not end up on the ground beneath his opponent.

The large man’s momentum had not been stopped though, and he now had a firm grip on Edryd’s shirt as he continued to surge forward. The smell of old stale sweat, subdued in a small measure by a fragrant herbal scent, permeated the air around the man who had seized hold of him. Edryd tried to lean into his opponent and redirect him, but his feet could not gain any sort of purchase on the slick cobbled stones beneath his boots. He was being driven backwards into the center of the courtyard.

With what little leverage Edryd could manage, he struck a sharp blow aimed at the center of the man’s torso just below his ribs. This did not stop the foul smelling man, but it did cause his grip on Edryd’s shirt to weaken. Edryd, still being driven backward, tore free and got as low as he could before spinning on his left leg until he was facing in the same direction as his attacker, with only the leg on which he had pivoted still overlapping the man’s continued trajectory. Raising his foot from the ground, Edryd caught the crook of the man’s ankle with the heel of his boot, sending him into an uncontrolled dive. The wall of stone that encircled the well was only a few feet away, which fortunate for Edryd, but not so convenient for his attacker. The man flew forward, striking the wall first with his head and then his left shoulder. A large section of well gave way, dust from the crumbling mortar clouding the air as the wall collapsed. The falling stones made distorted sounds as they collided back and forth down the sides of the well before splashing loudly in the water below.

Edryd turned back around, intending to locate his original opponent. The man no longer lay where he had fallen. His enemy, an older wiry man not much shorter than Edryd, stood only a dozen feet away, eyes glazed over but still filled with angry intent as he slowly pulled a short thin blade from a sheath that had been concealed somewhere in the recesses of his coat. Unconsciously, Edryd started to reach for the hilt of a sword at his side that wasn’t there, muttering a silent curse as he remembered that he was not armed. For now, his enemy made no advancing movement. The earlier exchange had taught him caution.

“Get up, Hagan!” the older man ordered, yelling at his partner who lay in a heap beneath a pile of rocks beside the well. “That can’t have been enough to hurt you.”

Edryd risked a quick look back at Hagan. If the other man did not think Hagan was hurt, he must have lacked capacity for sympathy. To Edryd’s amazement though, Hagan was actually stirring and might be back up on his feet in another minute. Do I have to kill one of them to end this? he wondered silently to himself.

“Yelling out the name of your partner… in the middle of a robbery?” Edryd said, mocking his attacker as he returned his focus to the older man. “I’m sure that’s breaking a pretty basic rule in your profession.”

If Edryd’s comments bothered the man, he wasn’t showing it. If anything, it helped the man regain some focus. It occurred to Edryd then, a little too late, that aggravating an armed attacker probably hadn’t been the best possible idea. The glazed look in his opponent’s eyes seemed to be diminishing, but still he did not attack. Apparently a knife was not advantage enough. He also wanted support from Hagan.

“Get up!” the knife-wielding man shouted again at Hagan.

“Sorry… Cecht,” Hagan apologized, struggling to speak clearly. “I… I’m getting up.”

“He’s barely any smarter than you are,” Edryd said to Cecht while shaking his head derisively, forgetting that he had, only just a moment ago, decided against the wisdom of provoking the man who was holding a very dangerous looking double-edged knife.

Edryd was not about to wait for Hagan to recover. It would have been a good time to run, but Edryd chose to attack. A couple of quick strides brought him into striking range. Using his left arm, Edryd deftly knocked away a knife thrust aimed at his chest, deflecting the knife hand inward and up, partially turning his opponent and leaving the side of his ribs and stomach open. Edryd moved as if to strike the exposed area, causing Cecht to instinctively bring his arm down, his forearm tightly pulled in to shield against the feigned attack.

This was what Edryd had hoped for, and he struck down as hard as he could with his fist on the rounded upper edge of Cecht’s forearm just below his elbow. Surprise registered on the man’s face as his arm straightened, having lost all sensation, and the knife fell from his hand. Edryd took hold of the man’s arm at the wrist, thinking to twist his enemy and force him to the ground, but now it was his turn to be surprised. Edryd felt like he was making a futile attempt to hang onto a runaway mount as Cecht tore his arm free with an unbelievable surge of strength that unbalanced Edryd and almost sent him to the ground.

Edryd recovered, collecting Cecht’s blade from off of the ground as he rose back up. Hagan was just now struggling to his feet. Edryd couldn’t quite get his head around the speed and strength his opponents had surprised him with, but with a weapon in his hand, he was comfortable that there was no longer any serious risk. Even attacking together, Edryd was confident they would be no match for him. His sole concern now was determining the best way to stop the attack without inflicting serious injuries to one or both of them.

“Hagan and Cecht,” Edryd said, “a pair of incompetents; each one dumber than the other.”

Edryd’s previous insults, which he had resorted to in a misconceived effort to project an aura of intimidation, had done more to provoke the attackers than deter them. The results this time were even worse. Cecht produced a small throwing knife in each hand from the sleeves of his coat, and Hagan pulled a small wooden cudgel from inside of his jacket. Forget injuring them, Edryd thought to himself, I really might have to kill these two. It was then that he noticed that both of their coats, though different in size, were made from the same cloth, and cut in the same fashion.

“If you leave now, I promise a day’s head start before I begin hunting,” Edryd threatened, hoping that an uncomplicated warning would work where his impulsive insults had not.

Both men (wisely) seemed reluctant to initiate anything, but neither of them showed signs of giving up. Convinced there was no avoiding it, Edryd began to formulate an attack strategy. He would need to take Cecht out first; he had to respect those throwing knives. He wouldn’t risk turning his back to Cecht without knowing whether the man had the skill to use them effectively. Believing that a delay would not work in his favor, Edryd almost started forward, but he realized that he had been forgetting something important: the man in the alley.

Feeling a twinge of panic, Edryd looked past Cecht toward the darkened passage, where he knew a third enemy remained hidden from view. He could not see anyone, but he was no less certain that there was someone there, someone who had been observing everything.

Edryd was looking directly into the alleyway when the shadows began to shift and move, coalescing into a robed figure in a dark grey cloak. As the figure emerged, his black clothing seemed to shed wisps of darkness. The intimidating man kept a hand on the hilt of a long sword, a weapon which was seated in a wooden scabbard, coated with black lacquer and worked with simple metal embellishments. This was a more dangerous enemy than either Hagan or Cecht. Edryd could recognize a skilled swordsman, and traces of dark strength and power could be seen in every one of this man’s deliberate movements. This opponent warranted respect, and Edryd realized that it would be unwise to engage him without a better weapon of his own to even the odds.

“Seoras!” said Hagan, surprise and fear threading through the pitch in his voice as he gave a name to the robed figure.

Hagan was behind him, so Edryd could not see the face that matched the obvious alarm in the big man’s voice. Edryd could, in contrast, see plain dismay in Cecht’s eyes at the mere mention of the name Seoras. Edryd had thought the man would be a third attacker, tipping the balance in favor of his opponents. The reactions Seoras had inspired in both Hagan and Cecht though, gave Edryd a reason to hope that he had gotten this wrong.