Fire And Ice (Book 1) (36 page)

             
Haltherin stopped short of the door and spoke over his shoulder.  “Inform me of when.  I wouldn’t want to miss it.”   

Chapter 21

A Night in Lornth

              Thin, filmy clouds moved sedately across the night sky, diffusing the light from the fat crescent moon.  The men slipped over the ship’s railing, their bare feet making no sound as they touched the deck.  They crouched by the rail, listening and watching for any sign of the crew.  Satisfied, they made a gesture to those waiting in the boat below and quickly hauled up small, iron bound casks.  Taking a hatchet from where it hung on his belt, one of Terk’s Karands swung once.  In the silence of night, the crack of the wood splitting sounded like the clash of thunder.  One of the men kept watch as the second broke open several more of the casks.  No one came on deck to discover them and there was no sound of alarm from the docks several ships away.  With the casks prepared they picked them up and began spreading the contents across the deck.  With the ships lashed together they had no problem moving from deck to deck.  Of the eight ships they distributed the liquid across five of them.  Not daring to get any closer to the docks where they might be seen by the guards they knew to be there, they returned to the long boat where two more men began rowing to their next assigned group of ships.  They would repeat the procedure five more times before returning to the abandoned dock that was too dilapidated to be used any longer.  They had to manhandle the boats out of the water and back into the deserted warehouse where they had found them.  Without a word they separated and made their way carefully home.  In all, five more boats would be returned this night.

              It was just like Terk had described.  The trees and bushes concealed their approach.  They moved forward very carefully to avoid any unnecessary noise.  If they were heard before they were in place it would be over.  The land cleared ahead into a dirt and grass covered bluff.  He could see four robed men lounging about the stones of a ruined foundation.  Terk had said that there used to be a watch tower here at one time.  The one they came for was leaning with his back against one of the taller stones, he watched out over the edge of the bluff to the harbor below.  His hood was pulled down and his pale, bald head glowed in the soft moonlight.

             
Miko gestured to the dozen men carrying short bows who were arranged on either side of him.  They responded by raising the bows and taking careful aim on their assigned targets.  He raised his hand slowly; sweat broke out on his forehead as he took a deep breath and held it.  This was why he became a trader in the first place.  He was capable of defending himself when he had to, and he wasn’t squeamish, but the anticipation of violence was too nerve racking for him.  What had he gotten himself into?  He brought his arm down and called silently to She’al for luck.

             
The arrows flew out of the night to thump into the back of the bald man.  He was able to spin around awkwardly and send balls of fire before him wildly.  One struck his own guard, the fire burning through his chest.  Another struck the leaves above Miko’s head turning them into instant ashes which drifted towards the ground. 

             
One of the Makkuran guards flopped onto his back as an arrow slammed into his neck.  The wizard was on his knees now, his face caught up in the rictus of pain.  More balls of fire struck the ground just short of the archers.  The wizard finally fell as another volley of arrows downed the remaining two guards. 

             
They swept out of the cover of the foliage to check the victims.  All were found dead.  Miko ordered the bodies to be dumped over the edge of the cliff along with any arrows that missed or broke off.  He surveyed the cliff top, but it was difficult to see anything in the darkness.  Whether anything was found didn’t really matter as long as it didn’t connect the shooters to anyone in the town.  That was Coran’s idea of course.  The boy was good, Miko had to admit.  Coran had a natural instinct to lead, even more so than his father.  He didn’t seem like it when they first met back in Arencia, but here in Lornth, when something had to be done, he took over as naturally as any general.

             
They left the scene on the bluff to return to their homes.  All except Miko, who headed for the harbor and the waiting boat that would hopefully carry them to safety.

              Coran waited in the shadows between the two stone buildings as two armed guards passed by in the street.  Terk had warned him that a curfew was in affect for the populace, so that anyone he encountered would be hostile.  The dark brown robe was pulled close around him like a shield in the darkness.  He thought Miko should be doing his part about now and the men in the harbor should almost be done.  He worried that one of them would be spotted or heard.  If any alarm was given then the whole plan would fail and there would be no second chance, for any of them.  As soon as the sketches and information had been given to him by Terk he knew what he had to do.  It was like it was all laid out before him clearly, and clicked together in his mind.  Like seeing all the pieces on a game board, he just knew what to do. 

             
The guards made no effort to peer into the shadows or stop and listen for footsteps.  They obviously didn’t take their jobs very seriously.  All the better for him. 

             
He crossed the poorly lighted street and entered the shadows on the other side.  There were few lamps along the quiet streets, allowing plenty of places for someone to hide.  After a time, he found himself outside the back wall of the small garden that was in the rear of the administration building. 

             
Looking both ways down the alley to make sure it was clear, he jumped up and caught the top of the wall with his fingers.  Pulling himself up, he swung his legs onto the top of the wall.  He laid there and listened for the guard he knew was supposed to be patrolling the garden.  It was a few minutes before he heard the light footsteps moving in the grass.  The sound moved away and he lowered himself into the garden, avoiding some thick leafy bushes that would have given him away with the noise.  He waited a moment longer to reacquire the sound.  The guard came closer to where he crouched down and Coran wondered why he didn’t hear the beating of his heart since it was so loud to himself.  When the man passed, he rose up silently behind him, and placing a hand to his mouth he drew his dagger across the Karand’s throat.  It was not exactly the kind of killing he could easily accept.  It felt too much like murder, but he had to do what was necessary to save more lives later.  He pulled the corpse back and laid it down in the bushes into which he had almost fallen.

             
He crept closer to the back of the three-story, brick building.  The top two floors had narrow balconies overhanging the garden.  Spreading limbs from a large tree he couldn’t identify in the dark reached to within a few feet of the second story, stone railing of the balcony.  Reaching up he grabbed one of the thicker limbs and pulled himself up.  He moved from branch to branch, eventually getting where he needed to be.  The distance from the tree to the balcony appeared farther than it had from the ground over ten feet below him.  Taking a deep breath, he leaped in the air and managed to grab the stone by his arms.  He scrambled over the railing to the floor of the balcony. 

             
He took a moment to catch his breath after getting to his feet.  Looking to one side of the doors leading inside he spotted the stones Terk found out about from someone he knew who worked here.  The stone bricks had been placed poorly and several stuck out from the rest by an inch or less.  He looked up to the next level wishing he had brought a rope.  Placing his feet on the irregular stones he found a hand hold, then climbed up until he was opposite the top floor.   His fingers hurt from scraping against the stone.  He reached out and grabbed the stone that served as a railing and managed to jump over. 

             
Before him were two glass paned doors.  He didn’t see any lights emanating from beyond the dark curtains hanging inside the doors.  He tried the handle, but the doors were locked.  He wrapped a hand in the brown cloak he wore and knocked out one of the pains.  Glass shattered onto the carpet.  Reaching through he found the clasp that held the doors and unlocked them.  He stepped through the curtains into the administrator’s office. 

             
To his right was an ornately carved, cherry desk.  A chair to match was behind it.  Bookcases lined the opposite wall and the door leading to the rest of the building was directly ahead.  He had to move quickly.  The desk held a scattering of papers on top of a large map that depicted most of Daes Shael, from Lornth in the south to T’Loth and Sha’Tor in the north.  It included the central plain area and the desert of Shio Aman. He found a lamp on the table’s corner and fumbled with his flint to get it started. 

             
He rifled through the papers lying next to the map, finding some that listed supplies that were being loaded onto the ships.  There were also reports on the number of local recruits brought into the army from cities in the area.  He checked that against some notations on the map and found that the numbers had been assigned to the relevant spots.  The map contained everything he needed.  There was a list of the number of troops at Sha’tor as well as the estimate for the next month.  Coran grinned at his good luck and pulled the map out from under the papers.  He rolled it up and stuffed it into his shirt. 

             
He reached for the lamp when the latch to the door clicked.  He had no time to make it back onto the balcony.  Coran crossed the room quickly, reaching the door at the same time the man entered.  Coran made sure his face was clear to see, to go with his plan.  The man had mostly gray hair and was heavyset.  His dark eyes went wide and his mouth opened to yell.

             
“Halth...”  The cry was cut off as Coran brought the pommel of his dagger down on the Karand’s head.  The man’s eyes rolled upward as he collapsed to the red and green carpeted floor. 

             
Coran pushed the door shut as he tucked the dagger away in his belt, then checked to make sure the man was still alive.  He did want at least one witness.  Satisfied the man wouldn’t die he started to leave by the way he had come in.

             
The door opened again and Coran spun around to see who had come in.  The man was tall, with very dark hair and a thin beard.  His shoulders were broad and his chest deep.  It must have been the man Z’Arize was trying to call for.  Coran brought his sword up and froze.  He suddenly couldn’t move a muscle.  Seeing the arrogant smirk on the man’s face he knew he had to be responsible.  He had to be one of those Maji Gelarus told him about.

             
“What do we have here?  You would not happen to be that Anagassi they were searching for?”  He spoke without any accent and in a deep voice that went perfectly with his large frame.  “Strange, you do not look like a Karand to me.”

             
Coran tried to move, and found that he could, slowly.  It was like trying to move while buried in mud.  The expression on the man’s face went from arrogance to confusion.

             
“How are you doing that?  You should not be able to...”

             
That was as far as he got.  Coran broke free from whatever was holding him and swung his blade in an upward motion.  The sharp steel took the wizard’s arm off at the elbow.  The man shrieked in pain, and surprise.  Coran did not wait to see what would happen next, not when it involved a wizard.  He raced for the balcony, and just made it before a ball of fire struck the curtains where he had just passed. 

             
Coran scraped his fingers in his hurry to descend to the next balcony.  As he jumped for the tree a shout came from above.  Coran lost his grip on the branch and crashed into a lower one.  He barely managed to grip that one enough to drop the last six feet to the ground with some sort of control.

 
              Glancing up he saw a man on the top balcony looking out over the rail.  He had no choice now but to make a run for it.  Guards would certainly be coming to check the garden.  Running, he jumped and propelled himself up and over the wall before the alarm of his being spotted left the watcher’s mouth.  

             
He ran through the streets to keep ahead of any pursuit.  The problem was a running man was a beacon to any guards patrolling the streets.  As he came out onto a crossing street two figures shouted at him.              

             
“Great,” he said to himself as he ran in the opposite direction.  The sound of his footsteps echoed off the walls of the buildings.

              Shirri placed three traveling packs into the boat along with Coran’s western style blade.  Already in the boat were the quiver of arrows, a bow, and a lit lantern.  There were full water skins with the packs as well.  They would be needed if they had to stay in the boat longer than expected. 

             
She had to admit it was a good plan the Midian had devised.  Almost brilliant.  His scruples would get him killed though.  Risking not only his life, but the mission he said was so important to him. He was foolish to try and save men who accepted their own risks.  It was foolish, yet why did she think it so...so...noble?