The Thieves of Blood: Blade of the Flame - Book 1 (27 page)

“When?”

“Two night’s hence.”

“At midnight, I suppose.” Makala’s mind was working furiously. She couldn’t allow Erdis Cai to sacrifice her. It didn’t
matter if she died, but she refused to allow her death to give Erdis Cai and his foul mistress control over an army of undead hobgoblin warriors.

“Half past, actually, though to be honest, I’d prefer midnight. It’s much more dramatic.”

Makala looked once more upon the blood pool. Erdis Cai had said a sacrifice didn’t count unless it was performed at the right time. If she died
before
that time …

She started running toward the pool, intending to throw herself in and drown, but Erdis Cai reached out with inhuman speed, caught hold of her hair and yanked her backward, bringing her to an abrupt and quite painful stop.

“Don’t make this any harder on yourself than it has to be,” the vampire lord said. “You should take consolation in knowing that your death shall serve a higher purpose, that you will play a pivotal role in the history of the Principalities. Who knows? Perhaps the history of Khorvaire and even all Eberron itself!”

“Some consolation,” Makala muttered.

She struggled to pull free of Erdis Cai’s grip, but it was no use. She made up her mind to yank her head away from his hand hard enough to tear her hair out by the roots, then she remembered what had happened when she’d touched her hand to Erdis Cai’s armor on the stairs.

Instead of pulling away from the vampire lord, Makala ran forward and threw her arms around him in a full body embrace. At first Erdis Cai just stood there, puzzled, then he roared with laughter.

“You’re trying to drain your own lifeforce by grabbing onto my armor! How clever! Since I’m aware of your contact, I can keep my armor from taking more than a minuscule amount
of your energy. You could hold onto me like this for an entire week without experiencing more than mild fatigue.” He laughed again.

Swearing inwardly, Makala released her hold on Cai’s armor and made a grab for his black-handled sword, but the vampire caught her hand before it could get close to the hilt.

“I had hoped you might appreciate the dark majesty of my plan,” Erdis Cai said, sounding disappointed, “and perhaps even join us. I could use a woman with your spirit by my side, and I can find another sacrifice, even if it means waiting a bit longer to see my efforts come to fruition.”

Makala tried to pull free of the vampire’s grip, but it was no use. He was far too strong.

“I’d rather die than join you!” she said.

Erdis Cai looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Very well then.”

The vampire lord’s eyes began to glow with red flame. Makala tried to close her eyes, tried to turn her head, but she was unable to do either. She felt a great sleepiness coming over her, and though she struggled to stay awake, her efforts only made it worse. As her eyes closed, the last thing she saw Erdis Cai smiling at her.

“See you in two nights, lass. Rest well.”

Then her eyes closed all the way and she knew only darkness.

“There it is!” Hinto said, pointing. “Dreadhold!”

“Aren’t you supposed to say ‘Land ho?’” Ghaji asked, but the halfling just stared at him.

Ghaji, Diran, and Hinto stood at the
Zephyr
’s bow while Yvka sat in the pilot’s seat, steering the vessel and keeping the elemental active. Ghaji would’ve preferred to be back there with her, especially after their “rest break” in the cabin earlier, but he wasn’t on this voyage to enjoy himself, though he had, and quite a bit at that. He was here because he had a job to do, so he kept his gaze forward and took his first good look at the island prison of Dreadhold.

Ahead of them a desolate mass of rock rose out of the sea. On its surface was a forbidding stone fortress that looked as if it had grown out the rock instead of having been purposely constructed. Dreadhold was legendary throughout Khorvaire as the place where the most dangerous criminals were incarcerated, including a number imprisoned for wartime atrocities. The prison was managed by the dwarves of House Kundarak, which carried the Mark of Warding. House Kundarak contained two major organizations: the Banking Guild and the Warding Guild. It was the latter—experts in both magical and mundane security—that operated and maintained Dreadhold. The prison had the reputation for being inescapable, and it was easy to see why. The island itself was completely barren—no grass, no trees, not even any gulls in the vicinity. Thus if by some miracle a prisoner did manage to get out of the main cellhouse, there was nowhere to hide, making him or her an easy target for the archers stationed atop the cellhouse roof. In the extremely unlikely event an escapee made it to the shoreline alive, where would he or she go? The nearest land was Cape Far, miles to the south, and the water here was too cold to swim in for more than a few minutes without freezing. Add to that all the regular patrols of sailing vessels in the area whose task it was to keep potential escapees
in and potential raiders out, and it was clear that Dreadhold’s fearsome reputation was well earned.

The main cellhouse was a long rectangular building two stories high without windows. The front entrance was the only way in or out of the prison—at least, that’s what Yvka had told them. Ghaji had a difficult time believing it, though. The warden and guards had to have an alternate means of getting out of the cellhouse in case of emergency, though such an exit was bound to be well hidden. Near the cellhouse was a walled-in enclosure that served as an exercise yard, and next to that stood a high water tower, also with archers stationed on a walkway circling the top. In front of the cellhouse entrance was a stone lighthouse, and not far from that was a small stone building that Yvka had said was the warder’s house. A larger building sat off to the side, though it was still only a quarter the size of the main cellhouse. These were the staff quarters, and downshore from there was the boat dock, though no craft were berthed at present. Probably to avoid providing any temptation for the prisoners to attempt escape, Ghaji thought.

“Everyone ready?” Yvka called out.

Ghaji looked at Diran, who’d been intently studying the layout of the island ever since it had come into view. Without looking at his half-orc companion, the priest nodded.

“As ready as we’re going to get!” Ghaji called back.

Yvka gave no spoken command or made no gesture, but the
Zephyr
angled toward the dock and surged across the slate-gray waves. As the island grew steadily closer, Hinto said, “Do you really think this is going to work?”

“I have no idea,” Diran answered. The priest looked down at the nervous halfling and smiled. “But we’ll soon find out.”

Hinto looked up at Ghaji for reassurance, but all the half-orc said was, “Welcome to my world.”

Yvka maneuvered the
Zephyr
into a berth and commanded the elemental to bring the vessel to a gentle stop. She then removed her hand from the arm of the pilot’s chair, and the elemental’s glow dimmed as the containment ring once more became nothing more than a circle of metal. Hinto vaulted over the starboard railing and landed on the dock. Ghaji tossed him a line, and the halfling quickly and skillfully tied the rope to an iron cleat bolted to the dock. He then moved over to the port side, and he and Ghaji repeated the procedure. Diran lowered the anchor.

When they were finished, Yvka unlocked a section of the railing on the starboard side and swung it inward. She then lowered a small gangplank and Hinto came back onboard. The four companions then stood in front of the gangplank as Diran and Ghaji made ready to depart.

“Be prepared to cast off at a moment’s notice,” Diran said. “If something goes wrong—”

“Which it usually does,” Ghaji interrupted.

“—we’ll need to make a swift departure,” Diran finished.

“Are you sure it’s wise to go ashore unarmed?” Yvka asked.

Ghaji had left his axe in the cabin, along with Diran’s cloak of daggers. Diran had several blades concealed in his boots; those were the only weapons between them.

“It’s better that we avoid any appearance of hostile intent,” Diran said. “Besides, a few more daggers and one axe wouldn’t
be enough to help us against all the guards in Dreadhold.”

“I suppose not,” Yvka said, though she clearly wasn’t happy about it. Truth to tell, neither was Ghaji, but he knew it was a necessary precaution.

Hinto gave them a salute. “You can count on us, Captain! Try not to scowl so much, Greenie. You’ll put the guards into a worse mood than they already are.”

“Come here, Hinto,” Ghaji growled. “Let me give you a goodbye hug.”

The halfling took a step backward and half hid behind Yvka. “Thanks, but I’m not really one for hugging.”

“I am,” Yvka said, smiling at Ghaji. “Though perhaps this isn’t the best time or place.”

Ghaji felt his cheeks burning and Hinto laughed.

“Maybe I should start calling you Reddie!”

Diran took hold of Ghaji’s arm then, which is the only thing that saved Hinto from acquiring any number of broken bones.

“Let’s go, my friend,” Diran said. “Makala and the others are counting on us.”

Ghaji glared one last time at Hinto, gave Diran a nod, then they started down the gangplank. They’d barely set foot upon the dock before a dwarf came hurrying to them, a trio of guards following in his wake. The leader was no doubt the dockmaster, and he was clearly not pleased to see unexpected visitors to Dreadhold, but he’d only brought three guards with him, so it didn’t appear that he considered the
Zephyr
’s crew much of a threat.

“Stop right where you are!” the lead dwarf commanded. “You have not been authorized to disembark!”

The man was squat, broad-shouldered and muscular as was
common for his kind. He stood three feet tall, a bit short even for a dwarf. His head was bald, but he sported a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard. He wore a purple jacket with fur trim over a white shirt. Brown leather pants and black boots with gold buckles completed his outfit. The dwarf appeared to be unarmed, but then he didn’t need to carry weapons, not when he was accompanied by three guards in full armor. And what armor it was! Crystalline structures appeared on various areas of the metal, and Ghaji knew that meant it was Stonemeld armor. A Khyber dragonshard had been implanted in the armor, the mystic crystal allowing an earth elemental to be bonded to the metal, in much the same way the air elemental was bound to the containment ring aboard the
Zephyr
. Ghaji had never worn Stonemeld armor himself, but he’d seen it in action during the Last War. It gave its wearer extra resistance to physical attacks, as well as the ability to merge his or her body with stone. Such an ability seemed perfectly suited for dwarves, let alone ones working in a stone fortress on an island of rock. Of course there were the rumors, which Yvka had refused to confirm or deny, that House Kundurak operated a secret mining facility beneath the prison to harvest Khyber dragonshards.

Ghaji exchanged a look with Diran, and the half-orc knew his friend’s thoughts were running on a similar track. What better place to operate an illicit mine than beneath the most secure site in Khorvaire?

Each of the dwarf guards carried a weapon—all three axes, Ghaji noted with approval. Unlike his, these axes had Khyber dragonshards set into their pommels. The presence of the smoky-colored crystals with dark blue veins meant the guards’ weapons were magical, though Ghaji couldn’t tell what
specific properties the axes might possess simply by looking. Ghaji tried not to stare at the axes with obvious envy. He’d wielded elemental weapons on the battlefield during his years as a soldier, and he’d often thought how useful one would be in his current line of work. Too bad neither he nor Diran was wealthy, else they might have been able to purchase one, but as it was, he’d have to make do with his own mundane axe.

When the dockmaster and his guards reached them, Diran executed a small bow. “Good day to you, sir. My name is Diran Bastiaan, and this is my associate, Ghaji. To whom do we have the honor of speaking?”

“I am Bersi, dockmaster of Dreadhold,” the lead dwarf said in a low bass, “and as I said, you two have
not
been given permission to leave your vessel.”