Sword of Light (The Knights of the Golden Dragons - Book One) (21 page)

“What?”
Boremac was taken aback by this new development. He too looked down at the two
dagger hilts that glowed with a soft white light where they protruded from his
belt.

13

Shadows
and the Light

It had been several days since Gregor
had placed the stones over the dead priest. The knight had regretted not being
able to commit the body to the ground properly, but there was nothing to be
done about it. Despite the man's misguided path, Gregor had prayed for the
fallen one to be united with the true God he had once served. Three-Paw kept
pace with the warrior as he reached the outskirts of Zanthfar. The odd behavior
of the wild animal puzzled Gregor, but he was glad for the company. The knight
felt certain the beast would make its way home once the pair made their way
into the heavily patrolled lands of Zanthfar itself. Three-Paw had taken up the
habit of wandering off into the woods whenever Gregor took to the road to check
his path and exchange news with the militia of the city. The watchers of the
road told Gregor that there had been rumors of a great counsel among the druids
who watched over the woodlands near Zanthfar. Since that time, many groups of
rangers and druids had taken up patrols, reporting many strange things at the
outlying posts along the roads. Large orcs that dwarfed the other humanoids and
the raiding parties they led were becoming more and more common. The brutal
tribes of orcs seemed to be pressing their way toward Zanthfar itself, though
at this point they had had little success breaking through the patrols of
rangers. Gregor could not help but wonder if Tana were among them, and prayed
for her safety.

           
He was still a day’s hard travel
from the city when he decided he would take the road on the following morning.
The desire to find his teacher pushed him, though he was uncertain why. Gregor
could not shake the feeling that his mentor was in danger. The young Knight had
learned to trust his instincts as well as his training, and he made the last
camp that would be outside the reach of the city's walls with much trepidation.
The cause for his alarm became evident soon enough as he returned to his fire
with an armload of fallen wood.

           
No twig broke, no shadow shifted
within his limited view. Gregor had just enough time to place his hand at his
sword hilt before several webs the breadth of his height fell from the trees
and pinned him face down to the ground, leaving the wood of his load scattered
in every direction. The weighted nets were well placed by his attackers and he
could not budge. It appeared that the men that had sprung the trap saw little
need of stealth, as Gregor twisted his head to see the men emerging from the
wood in a rough circle around his prone form.

           
"Ha, well that was easy enough.
You two go and get the cart. We will drag him to the road." The coarse
female voice seemed to belong to the leader of the group. "Damn shame we
cannot just kill this one. Club him and secure his arms and legs. Be quick
about it!"

           
Several grunts of acknowledgment
sounded as the way-layers went about their tasks. A shout drew Gregor's
attention. "Who the hell are...?" The challenge ended with a fluid
gurgling followed by the reply of the new arrival.

           
"What is this about? Seems like
a lot of trouble for so little a reward. Certainly the lot of you can see the
waste of time in taking this prisoner." Gregor caught sight of a
glimmering white light at the corner of his eyes though he could not see the
source.

           
The female’s voice rose in a clear
challenge to the unknown killer. "Show yourself, bandit, and maybe you can
make your way out of this wood alive! We have no patience for rogues, even
talented ones. You’re clearly outnumbered, and there is no profit for you to
take for interfering here."

           
Two more of the brigands dropped
near where she stood, throwing daggers protruding from their necks. The silky
voice had moved while she spoke and emerged now from behind her. "Ah, I
disagree with you there, mistress of the Hand. Yes, I know who you are, and I
know your kind never labor for free. Give your prize to me and leave here
before I have to do something nasty. I can assure you, your parcel will be
delivered to your master with much haste. I have been seeking an audience with
the Lord of assassins for quite some time."

           
"You slay mere pawns, fool. It
is better that you should cull the unprepared from the Brotherhood. Do not
think you have any chance of surviving my blade." Her voice was light and
it appeared she was glad to have the chance to shed the blood of a worthy
challenger. "Come out of the darkness and face me." She waved a hand
toward the shadows. "No one touches him but me! This one is mine." The
reflection of
 
firelight on metal was
little warning as once more a throwing dagger tumbled out of the darkness as if
in reply. Even as she returned the blade to her assailant with a flurry of
motion, she smiled. This would be fun.

           
Boremac stepped into the firelight,
dropping the dagger intended for the leader back into its sheath. "Can't blame
me for trying, Sgiana. It has been too long since our weapons crossed. Let us
dance." The rogue and assassin each brought their weapons into their hands
with the economy of movement that was the mark of their craft. Boremac noted
the pommels of the twin blades of the assassin and grinned. They bore the
prestigious skulls that were granted to the brotherhood's elite killers."
Is your master still mounting skulls of the fallen assassins? I bet your pretty
head will be worth quite a bit." He began to circle her, with Sgiana
matching every step.

           
She took her time measuring her foe,
noting with pleasure that the throwing dagger she had returned to him had made
its mark. The assassin nodded slightly to the thin line of blood tracing its
way down the torn leather at the rogue’s left shoulder. "If I remember
correctly you favor your right hand, fool. It would be a shame to kill you too
quickly."

           
Boremac feinted rapidly, stepping
toward her in reply. The attack caught her slightly off guard, allowing his own
left-handed dagger to penetrate the light protection at her right shoulder. He
glided backward as she moved her own daggers to cut him, the jagged blades
narrowly missing tearing his stomach open. "Nice move, my lady. You will
find my blades are equally effective no matter which hand they are in." He
nodded lightly to the wound he had opened at her right shoulder. "Looks
like we are even now."

           
Her eyes narrowed at the rogue's
words. She had underestimated him for the last time. The movement of the two
combatants was remarkably similar as their blades clashed and withdrew, each in
their turn. Something in the way the rogue moved tugged at Gregor's memory,
though it took him some time to think why he knew him. This was the acolyte
that had seen Gregor slay the candelabrum so long ago when he first held his
black sword. The blessings of the God of light truly took strange forms. The
knight would never have known him except for the bald head once more glimmering
in the firelight and the unmistakable close cut beard that he had found so
curious when last he had seen the man. Despite the man's skill, Gregor saw
little reason to think he could undo the assassin.

           
The killer was learning more of her
challenger with each thrust and parry. He preferred a quick strike that would
kill his opponent, and each stab he weaved beyond her blades was easily
countered with a backward step or slight twist. Each time he cut her leathers or
punctured her flesh, the rogue was paid double for his efforts. She was in no
hurry to kill him; she found so few real tests for her vast skills of late. The
marks of her efforts wept openly, painting Boremac’s leathers from his neck to
his waist. No one among the onlookers, or the two figures engaged in each
other’s destruction, could have known what was going to happen next.

           
Gregor heard his companion before
the others and shouted. "No!"

           
It was too late. Three-Paw crashed
into Boremac, spinning him away from the assassin as the first arrow appeared
in her chest. The sound of splintering bone and the rushing air forced from her
open mouth were the only sounds for a moment as Sgiana fell face forward toward
the ground. A frightening bellow erupted from the trees as the whisper of
arrows was suddenly everywhere at once. Gregor had never seen anything like the
man charging out of the trees, holding a giant pickax over his head, intent
upon killing Boremac. Bodies fell from the trees, clothed in black leathers,
with arrow shafts protruding from various body parts.

           
Despite his prone position, Gregor
raised his voice over the thunderous hollering of the short, broad figure
nearing Boremac's kneeling form. Jumbled words poured forth as he sought to
save the rogue. "Stop! You there, do not harm him! Get down or lose your
head, rogue!" As it turned out, the knight’s words were all but wasted.

           
Boremac dropped to his back,
shooting his legs upward to take the new threat high in the chest, easily
throwing the thick man over his body. Despite the short, heavy figure’s
considerable girth, the man landed a few feet from Boremac flat on his back
with a ground-shuddering thud. Boremac began to throw his legs forward, intent
on regaining his feet, only to be struck in the chest by a gray wolf considerably
larger than Three-Paw. The beast pinned the rogue to the ground, its paws
resting on his shoulders as it drew its muzzle close to Boremac's nose. The
animal let out a growl that let the man know that trying to move would be a
very bad idea.

           
Gregor's voice once more shouted out
in confusion and alarm. "Fang?!? Fang! Where's your mistress? Tana! Get
Fang off him! He is one of the good guys! By the Light, someone get me out of
these nets!"

           
Dramor sat up, still gripping his
pickax, and shook the lights dancing in his eyes from his vision.
"
What’cha
want me to do,
Tana? Thump the thief or free the knight?" There was no doubt which of
these two actions he would prefer, judging from his tone.

           
The voice that answered the mountain
man's inquiry made Gregor's heart leap at the sound of it. Despite the current
predicament in which he found himself, the knight flushed deeply as Tana
emerged from the wood with an arrow nocked and pointed at the rogue. "This
one is well in hand, I think, Dramor. Get Gregor out of those nets so we can
sort this mess out." She shifted her arrow to line up properly with
Boremac's nervous gaze. "You won't give Fang any reason to tear out your
throat, will you? Be careful how you answer, she is a bit high strung with all
the excitement." Boremac's nearly imperceptible shake of his head seemed
to satisfy Tana. "Good, we will get to you in a moment. Fang, make sure
our friend stays comfortable." Fang barked her response, the wolf's eyes
never leaving the rogue's.

           
Dramor busied himself with first
pulling at the tangled mass of netting before giving up and cutting through the
individual strands. "Rest easy, boy. We’ll have
ya
outta here before
ya
can spit." He yelled over
his shoulder to the leather-clad figures that began emerging from the trees.
Gregor was thinking that if this man could do nothing else, he excelled at
bellowing. "Could use a 'and over 'ere! Damn nets is tough! Can one o’
ya
or a pair lend a blade?" A few figures that were
checking the bodies of the slain assassins moved to help the mountain man.
Dramor appeared to be well on his way to joining Gregor in the interlocking
nets before he was finally freed. Gregor brushed himself off, trying to make
himself presentable while Tana stood near the center of the encampment, giving
directions to the assembled rangers and druids. Boremac seemed to be all but
forgotten.

           
Gregor's next action went against
all he knew to be proper, but he never regretted it, even as he begged Tana's
forgiveness later. The knight came before her as the druid warrior hung her bow
at her back and replaced the arrows she had collected in her quiver. Impulse
drove away good sense as he threw his arms around her. "I have missed you
so much, Tana. I'm glad you are safe. Many things have happened since I saw you
last and I feared I would never see you again. I..."