The Beginnings Omnibus: Beginnings 1, 2, 3 & Legend of Ashenclaw novella (Realm of Ashenclaw Beginnings Saga) (6 page)

He depressed the button a second time, thus launching the darts into the portions of the man’s arm and chest that leaned upon the chair. He quickly held the man’s now-numb arm from accidentally slicing his jugular and waited longer. The assailant’s hold on his neck loosened as expected as he succumbed to the poison on the tips of the barbs as they penetrated his flesh. It happened so fast that the victim didn’t even notice the pinch in his arm until it was far too late. Ganthorpe remained seated as he heard the body slump to the floor behind him while watching a figure—that of a young woman—approach from the shadows.

Saphirra must have sensed an attacker approaching, or perhaps she had seen Ganthorpe’s eyes unintentionally betraying Rose’s presence. She instinctively rolled to the side, away from Ganthorpe’s desk and toward a more open area of the room. She tumbled forward quickly and came to her feet just as Rose attempted to land a thrust that would have wounded but not killed her.

“Clever bitch!” Saphirra cried, turning to see the red-headed young woman emerge from the shadows of the room.

“It is a shame that one so young has to die,” she intoned calmly, removing those long, vicious daggers from the makeshift sheaths on her belt. She brandished them threateningly at Rose, not even noticing that Ganthorpe’s attacker was down, nor that Ganthorpe himself merely sat in his chair of his own free will, staring at the two women about to engage in a death duel. He felt a slight twinge of anxiety as his emotions got the better of him but wanted to see what the two of them were made of, and so he did not move to act.

Rose held a pair of daggers as well, one in each hand. She too was skilled in the martial arts of close combat. Although she’d only been exposed to a few months of instruction under the Shadowhands trainers, she had a very instinctual and predatory way about her when she fought. Ganthorpe had recognized that immediately during their first training session, and had predicted that such ability would certainly be useful—especially now when she faced the incredibly dangerous Saphirra.

Saphirra was mystified as to where Rose had appeared from. She was sure she had checked the room thoroughly before springing the ambush on Ganthorpe. But no matter, she thought. The girl must have been hiding behind a secret door of which she was unaware. That thought, though, angered the woman even more as she now believed that Ganthorpe shared secrets with Rose that he had never revealed to her.

With that overwhelming jealousy guiding her actions, Saphirra lunged for Rose, a wicked dagger in each hand waving to and fro. She slashed back and forth, left to right, and then in reverse, attempting to throw the young woman off balance with her veteran   maneuver.

Rose backed away instinctively, managing to parry that second series of slashing moves by guiding her opponent’s strike wide with her left hand. Rose continued her counterattack, punching Saphirra’s right forearm with her right fist, the pommel of the dagger in her hand reinforcing the strength of the blow. This sent a wave of pain along Saphirra’s forearm as she noticeably winced. It angered her.

Saphirra shook off the discomfort and continued her rotation of the jagged and exceptionally long blades, slashing and slicing, gaining speed as she continued her attacks. This was not lost on Rose, who fearfully backed away again and was quickly on the defensive. Saphirra only then realized that a potent magic must be aiding the dagger attacks since the sheer speed of her assault was inhumanly quick. It sent her shoulders to aching with the relentless fury of thrusts and swipes.

Saphirra, in quick succession, landed first a right slash that cut Rose under her left breast, then a left slash that sliced in further and slightly deeper along Rose’s ribs, where blood surfaced immediately through her leathers.

Saphirra paused a second to meet Ganthorpe’s gaze. She also took note that he remained seated at his desk and that her accomplice lay unconscious or worse on the floor behind his desk.

“Men,” she spat, with a twinge of spiteful hatred in her voice. “They are all useless, it seems.”

She managed a mocking smile at Ganthorpe. She was not sure why he was still sitting there, but could not give it any further thought as she meant to press her assault. She charged forward once more, attacking the adolescent girl faster and faster, again and again. Rose fell back under the swiftness and ferocity of the assault but managed to parry and dodge several of the blows. But the speed at which the attacks came was more than she could handle and she received many superficial lacerations on her arms and upper torso. Try as she might, she was unable to completely evade the older and more experienced woman’s ever-hastening strikes.

“Are you frightened of me, girl?” Saphirra asked as she paused her assault.

“No!” barked Rose in response, pure anger welling up inside her.

“You should be,” warned Saphirra in an even and threatening tone as she advanced yet again on Rose, daggers held out before her.

“Use the shadows!” called Ganthorpe, interrupting the steady dance of death that Saphirra was presenting as a show to him, toying with the girl he favored. As the onslaught paused for a few heartbeats, Rose shot him a look that inferred that she’d already attempted that. He returned a confused, and then concerned look, as he understood that she must have tried it already. Saphirra had Rose on her heels and was toying with her as a cat did with the mouse.

Ganthorpe gave her one last command before deciding to join the fight.

“Concentrate,” he said sternly to Rose.

Rose had been fighting on instinct, she realized suddenly during the brief respite as Saphirra once more gazed wickedly toward Ganthorpe, seeming to mock him. It was time to shift the tide of battle in her favor, she decided. So this time, when Saphirra came at her again, Rose simply rolled back, submerging herself in the shadows of the room’s peripheries. Once inside the shadow realm, she ran to where Saphirra stood and then stepped out of the shadows directly behind her. She lunged, but to her surprise, Saphirra managed to avoid most of the brunt of her thrust, which wounded her superficially along the left side of her back. However, on top of grazing her, Rose did also manage a solid kick to the inside of her left knee, bending it to the side, and obviously straining the tender ligaments and tendons within, as the older woman howled in agony.

Rose disappeared into the shadows once more. She repeated the action, emerging from the realm of shadows and melting back, over and over again, scoring many shallow and superficial wounds to Saphirra’s flesh. She knew she could not slow Saphirra’s attacks, which were clearly augmented in power and swiftness by the magical daggers, but she could impede her by striking at her base. And so she focused on assaulting her opponent’s legs.

Sensing the weakness in her that the young rogue had exposed, Saphirra immediately responded to reclaim her advantage. She hastily unsheathed another dagger, one that was weighted specifically for throwing, and flung it at Ganthorpe. The man instinctively recoiled backward and fell over the unconscious form of his prone and former assailant. Suddenly, Saphirra rushed toward him and hovered over him, dagger held expertly to the side of his neck, ready to rip straight through the soft flesh.

“You can stop your tricks now, little Rose,” instructed the woman, jerking her head to the side to shake free her tangled hair from in front of her eyes. In so doing she revealed a deadly set of blue eyes that regarded the room with great care, darting back and forth.

“If you are behind me, know that you will not kill me before I can drive this blade’s edge all the way through your lover’s neck! I will bleed him like a pig if need be,” she threatened to the empty air, letting the warning dangle as she worked Ganthorpe back to his feet. She stood behind him, waiting for a response.

“You certainly are a thorn in my side, young lady,” she finally remarked as Rose presented herself, emerging from a shadow in front of the pair.

 “Here I am,” Rose acknowledged, arms held out wide in a display of submission.

“You can put the blade down now, Saphirra,” Ganthorpe boldly expressed to her in a commanding tone, attempting to assert himself despite his considerably inferior position. “You cannot kill me.”

This seemed to shock Saphirra momentarily.

She suddenly bore an expression of disbelief, her expression indicating to Rose that Ganthorpe was not taking the scenario seriously and that he might regard her as less than a threat.

Ganthorpe was pushing her patience. Saphirra could not hide her contempt and almost plunged the blade through his neck in anger, but held it still. Oh, how little he truly knew about her plans and designs. She had set into motion a devious campaign during the past year, gathering names and arranging meetings with the most elite killers in all of Wothlondia. While under the employ of Ganthorpe and the Thieves’ Guild, Saphirra began to realize a certain and undeniable fact.

She enjoyed killing.

And all she wanted to do was add to the stakes of their game and reap the rewards that came with them. She wanted to leave Ganthorpe’s organization and develop one of her own. An organization of Assassins—not thieves—and, moreover, one where her word was the absolute law.

In this moment of silent reflection, as Saphirra allowed her mind to wander, Ganthorpe reacted. In one swift motion, he simultaneously grabbed both her elbow and her wrist with either hand, thus securing the arm that held the dagger to his throat and preventing it from penetrating his skin. He shoved the arm up and ducked underneath it, all in the same motion. The Master of Thieves moved so fast that neither Rose nor Saphirra registered what was happening as it unfolded before them. Ganthorpe, for whatever reason, was a great deal faster than he’d ever shown before.