Sword of Light (The Knights of the Golden Dragons - Book One) (20 page)

           
Tana's group was in charge of
patrolling the forest near the plains. The first few days brought them into
contact with as many as two or three raiding parties, but the wood had grown
quieter recently. Tana largely attributed this to the more concentrated efforts
of the rangers. The reports that came in from other groups agreed with what her
party was finding. The remaining orc war parties were larger and always had a
demon blood leader with them. Once the leader was slain, the remaining orcs
fled toward the plains. The forces that had drawn them together as one tribe
were diminishing.

           
Tana had chosen this evening to
learn more about her companions. Many of the rangers and druids told stories
similar to hers. There were a number of interesting animal companions in the
group, though most of the local rangers and druids traveled with wolves like
Fang. There were, however, exceptions like the large wildcat accompanying one
of the other druids.

 
One of the other rangers had been rescued, and
subsequently befriended, by a weasel that reminded Tana a great deal of
Filcher, Master Firebeard's pet. The ranger in question had been captured by a
poacher whose knot tying ability had given him no end of trouble. The weasel
had come along while the poacher slept, and gnawed away the ropes which bound
the ranger. The ranger had fed the weasel and then had tried his best to gently
shoo him away into the woods, but the little rodent had refused to leave him.
The small, slender creature stayed mostly at his master's side, though it did
have a tendency to explore other people's packs. Curiosity had almost been the
end of it when it made the mistake of assuming Dramor's companion, a large
reptilian creature, slept while it scurried over the reptile's back.

           
"Dramor, is that beast of yours
always so nasty?" Tana asked in a huff after the lizard snapped its jaws
behind the frightened weasel several times. It never moved, it simply twisted
its neck, tracking the rodent, before bringing its scaly head to rest again
near the fire pit.

           
Dramor turned to look at her,
petting his creature lightly on its head as if he had not noticed. "Eh?
You mean Carver? He
wasn
' gonna eat that stretched little
rat. If he’d a’ been hungry, he would’ a
caught’im
.
He was only
funnin
',
weren
'
you, Carver. He
didn
' mean no harm. Just
watchin
’ the little bugger
didn
'
get our stuff. No harm, Miss Tana. He
wasn
'
meanin
’ no harm. Carver jus' a bit away from his home and
it's
makin
’ him a bit edgy. Know what I be
meanin
'?"

           
“Yes, I do understand that. We are
all a long way from home. We should be able to make our way back to our homes
soon, if things keep going the way they are going. It won't be long until the
trouble here is done." She was hoping as much as any of them for that to
be true. The reply that came from just outside the light of the fire surprised
them all.

           
"We will be leaving these wild
lands soon but not to go home, I fear." Sephia's soft voice emerged from
the shadows as she stepped toward the fire. The large falcon she called Keen
was perched at her shoulder, its eyes scanning the darkness beyond. "The
demon blood leaders that remain have abandoned the orcs. They travel as one
group to the north, to the
lava mountains
. Keen tells
me the creatures move quickly. Their work here is done."

           
Tana turned to address Sephia,
"What do you mean, their work here is done?"

           
"We have been distracted, as
was the intention of the one who guides them. I cannot say what purpose was
served when the demon bloods were sent here, but it is not their losses that
make them leave now. Whatever power guides them is calling them home."
Sephia's placid features remained unmarked by emotion as she continued.
"There is something else. Keen has seen men moving through the forest. He
cannot say how many. They are hiding their number."

           
“Ah, prolly jus’ poachers or maybe
robbers
stayin
' off the roads. The local militia have
been jus' about all o'er the roads wit' the trouble." Dramor waved at
Sephia dismissively. "You
gettin
' all in a twist
o'er
nothin
’."

           
"No, Dramor, these are hunters
of men. They move like snakes in the night, hiding in the trees during the day.
No broken branches or matted grass gives hints of the path they have taken.
These hunters are watching and waiting for... someone. Some are near the road
from the southwest. There are others in the wood but I know not where. They
move constantly at night, searching."

           
Tana's mind raced as she considered
Sephia's words. Nactium, the killers were watching the road that came from
Nactium, but why? First, Master Silverwing's weapons turn up with news of the
demon trying to kill Gregor. Now assassins lay in wait on the road from
Nactium. What was happening? The only thing in common was the city of Nactium.
Tana realized there was only one person she cared about in that city who might
leave it, Gregor. Gregor would leave to find his Master once he was knighted,
and the same path that brought Master Silverwing his swords would lead the
young knight to Zanthfar. Tana had to find the assassins before they found
Gregor.

12

Heads or Tails

It had
been three days since Boremac’s meeting with Silverwing, time enough to start
whetting his appetite for trouble. Tavern wenches to the left and alcohol to
the right… what was a respectable scoundrel to do?

He
woke, if you could call it that, with a pounding head and teeth that felt like
they were wearing dirty socks. The bed was shaking and seemed likely to
splinter apart. Groggily, he reached out to the warm body next to him. “
Mornin
’, love,” he said thickly. “You feeling frisky
again?” “BAAAAAAA,” was all the answer the rogue got before his bedmate resumed
struggling.

Boremac’s
eyes popped open, coming fully awake. “What the hell???”

Lurching
out of bed, he took in the situation in an instant. The goat, unwilling as she
had been to share his bed, was trussed at her front and hind legs and
attempting unsuccessfully to escape. The animal protested loudly now, ignoring
the bit of rag that had secured her muzzle and focusing on the leather lines
binding her legs. He wondered how he had managed to sleep through any of it at
all. Well, on second thought, since he had been more comatose than asleep, it
was entirely possible.

“Just
wait ‘til I get my hands on that wench…she will pay for this!” he muttered
darkly, as he clumsily attempted to untie the goat, dodging the nipping teeth
intent on the same purpose. “Be still, you damned animal!” Finally, he managed
to disentangle the leather bindings, receiving a startling knock to the head
for his efforts. As if this indignity were not enough, the creature paused
briefly to kick its rescuer squarely in his nether region before bolting out
the open door to the rogue’s room. The distraught nanny charged out of the
bedroom, down the inn steps and into the common room. There was a great
commotion below filled with shouts from the afternoon’s patrons and the sounds
of broken crockery. Boremac knelt hard on the wooden floor, gently checking his
wounded pride for any permanent damage as the pulsing in his head continued to
intensify. Another sound, this one all too familiar to the thief, brought him
to his feet.

Quick
as a snake, Boremac’s hand shot around the corner toward the source of the
shrill laughter penetrating his skull. Luck smiled on him as the offending
female turned to flee, knowing she had been discovered, and he caught a full
hand of her hair. The rogue was pleased with his first catch of the day despite
his pain. “OWWWWWWW, stop that!!”

    
“AH HA!” Boremac dragged the girl into the
room to face him and pushed her roughly up against the wall. “You better speak
quick before I share the wealth of pain that nanny gave me,” he growled
ominously from under lowered brows. The girl quailed under his hands, a pained
look coloring her features. Boremac wondered at her response. He was sure he
wasn’t holding her that hard, considering his current condition. His eyes swept
around the scene of destruction that had been his room, and noticed that his
blades were missing. Returning his gaze to the girl, he raised his eyebrows
questioningly, “Well?”

“It
were just meant to be a bit of payback for
ruinin
’ me
and
me
sister’s chances of getting’ out of this
tavern. We made sure you had enough to drink and more before we brought you up
here last night to tuck you in.” The girl wiggled as if she were trying to find
a more comfortable position. Boremac pressed her a bit harder. “And? I am sure
there is more you are not telling me.” The girl gave a little gasp as he
pressed. “What’s the matter? Is there a nail poking your backside? Or maybe my
blades?” He said with another abrupt push.

“OWWW!
All right, I took’
em
. I admit it. They looked like
they might bring a pretty price. Stop
mashin
’ me and
I’ll give ‘
em
back!” The barmaid relaxed visibly as
Boremac took his weight off her so he could retrieve his belongings. “You ought
to know that what goes around comes back to
ya
,
Boremac. Seemed rather
fittin
’ for an old goat like
yourself to wake with a nanny fit to be tied.” Once more her laughter pummeled
his aching skull. “For all your carousing of late, I am surprised you haven’t
had that lass sooner.”

Boremac
secured his belt and turned to meet her chiding with a laugh of his own. “I
supposed there is more truth in that than I would care to admit.” The rogue
stepped to the center of the room where the barmaid now stood with his daggers
in hand, points out, he noted.

“Take
the daggers, but you might do well to pay me first. What is that narrow hide of
yours worth to you?”

“Fair
enough.” It was her turn to grin, and Boremac extracted coins from his pouch
before taking the offered blades. He didn’t like being at her mercy without
knowing what to offer, but he tossed a gemstone in with the coins to be certain
the barmaid shared what she knew.

“Nice!
Might take some time from tables with that bit.” The barmaid tucked away the
payment and put on a mask of concern for his benefit. “Tough figures looking
for you in the city of late, Boremac. Should be glad I like you or they would
have picked you up already. You wouldn’t be wise to be hanging around the inns
so much anymore, I think. These aren’t the usual roughs that come by making
inquiries, and definitely not the local constables so far as I can tell. Asking
a lot of questions and not real happy when they don’t get quick answers. I
would take your blades and go, Boremac. Come in when there isn’t so much trouble.”

“Well,
I guess it was just a matter of time, but I have to remain here in the city a
bit longer. Promises to keep, love. Unless you might take to the tables a bit
longer and help me save the world?” There was no indication that he was
speaking in jest, and the darkness in his eyes piqued her attention and
curiosity. “A price much greater than those meager coins would be yours if you
could keep my confidence. Of course, you might just as likely be killed for
associating with me if what you say is true.”

His
last words made her reconsider the wisdom in protecting the thief. “What have
you gone and gotten yourself into now, Boremac? Some fool has filled your head
with importance, I am thinking. Still, you have my attention. Tell me what you
would have me do and I will tell you if I can do it. Don’t see any profit in
being dead.”

    
Boremac sheathed his daggers as he suited
up in his leathers and chucked her lightly under her chin. “Your part would be
simple enough. Just keep an eye out for the knight that will be coming to the
city, and give him a message for me when he arrives. Think you can manage it?
In return I will give you enough coin and gems to get you half an interest in
this tavern.”

She
winked at the rogue coyly and answered with a singular affirmative. “Done.” She
extended her hand to seal the deal. As Boremac reached out to take the offered
hand, her eyes left his to rest at his waist. “Do those daggers always glow
like that or are you just happy to see me?”