Rise of the Champion (The Sword of Kirakath Omnibus #1) (30 page)

BOOK: Rise of the Champion (The Sword of Kirakath Omnibus #1)
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I guess that I can’t be too surprised that they know of me. The Night Blades are part of their culture if they’ve been around for as long as Nicolas and Sir Edmond said.

 

“If I leave because of you, would the Night Blades be happy?” Caleb asked rhetorically. “They kill people who get in their way. I’ve seen it, so I’m going to bring an end to this hunt. Their hunt will come to an end after today.”

 

“You march to your death,” the guard said, shaking his head. “There’s a stable right on the other side of the gates. Tell them Burt said you could keep your horse there. If you don’t die today, you can take it back.” It was easy to see that he did not think Caleb would return alive.

 

“Thank you,” Caleb said with a grateful smile. That solved one problem.

 

He immediately rode through the gates at that.

 

* * * * *

 

Caleb stepped walked down the street and stopped as he came to the marketplace. After he left his horse at the stables, he had headed straight down the middle street, intentionally seeking out the marketplace. He wanted to be in the most open space in the city when the assassins came for him.

 

Looking around the marketplace, he saw that it was roughly twenty yards across and had various stalls surrounding it, making its circular design more prevalent. It had gray cobblestone covering the ground.

 

I’m surprised not too many people are around. Umbridge isn’t a really big city, but there are supposed to be over five thousand people living here.

 

Shaking his head, he ignored the ten or so common folk that were standing in front of the various stalls.

 

Caleb walked up to one of the stalls to his left that did not have anyone browsing it already. The man standing behind it appeared to be in his mid twenties, had a rough appearance, and wore earthy colors. What attracted him to the stall was the fact that there were bows, arrows, bracers, and quivers on it.

 

“That’s a nice longbow,” Caleb remarked as he looked at one of the two bows that were set out to be displayed. He picked it up by the black leather that acted as a grip. “It’s perfectly balanced, and it’s definitely yew. It’s probably the best made long bow I’ve ever seen.” He then sat it down and looked at the bow that had been placed next to it. The arms of that bow were shorter than that of a long bow and they curved at the ends. He had never seen a bow like that before. “What is that?”

 

“That’s a yew recurve bow,” the man answered pleasantly. “It’s shorter and has a lower draw weight, but it’s lighter and is almost identical to the long bow in the force it can launch an arrow at.”

 

“That’s interesting,” Caleb said thoughtfully. He had heard of such a bow before, but they were not as popular in Arcadia. They were of Calian design, and Arcadians had a tendency to reject anything Calia liked unless there was no other suitable alternative. It looked to be a useful weapon though. If he had more coin in his pocket, he would have bought it right then and there. “I’ve had two yew longbows, and they’ve served me well.”

 

“I can understand that,” the man said with a nod. “People like to rely on what they’re used to. I actually learned to craft this type of bow when I was in Tir. A group of assassins from that city use recurve bows only, and they are infamous for their marksman skills.”

 

That was not something Caleb knew. It seemed there was one place in Arcadia that liked the Calian bows after all.

 

“I’ll come back and try one of these out whenever I get the chance,” Caleb said with a smile. “Longbows may have served me well in the past, but I like to keep my bow wrapped in canvas and tied to the back of my saddle when I ride. Naturally, that makes the bow stick out on both sides. It prevents me from riding between trees unless they’re spaced apart quite a bit.”

 

“I see,” the man said, suddenly nervous.

 

“Act normal,” Caleb muttered under his breath. “Do they fire arrows of the same length as long bows do? It looks like the string is shorter.”

 

“You can shoot arrows that are a little shorter, but I don’t see any reason you couldn’t shoot the arrows you’ve been using,” the man answered.

 

“That’s good to know,” Caleb said as he suddenly jumped to his left, easily evading the blade of a dagger as it was brought forth in a stabbing motion. He quickly spun around and slammed his left elbow into the face of a man wearing a black hooded cloak. A crunching sound filled the marketplace, and caused several of the shoppers to run away.

 

The would-be assassin dropped his dagger as both of his hands went to his nose. It was easy to see that it was broken by the blood that was pouring down the front of his cloak.

 

As quickly as possible, Caleb stepped behind him, wrapped an arm around his head, and twisted sharply. His neck snapped immediately, and Caleb dropped him to the ground.

 

On instinct, Caleb turned around and faced the opposite side of the marketplace from where he entered as he took his bow in hand and removed an arrow from his quiver.

 

Nine men wearing hooded cloaks were standing at the entrance to the marketplace opposite of him. He could easily tell that they were about to rush towards him, but only eight of them were beginning to do it. The other one was reaching inside of his cloak.

 

The knife thrower needs to be dealt with first. I’ll have at least five seconds to take out the others after he’s dead.

 

Caleb nocked an arrow, drew it back, and released the bowstring, sending an arrow flying straight at the assassin who had reached into his cloak. It hit him in the jugular just as he had his knife out in plain sight. He dropped it as he fell to the ground dead.

 

All of the assassins glanced back at their fallen comrade momentarily, but that was a mistake.

 

Caleb had immediately removed a second arrow from his quiver, nocked it, drew it back, and released his hold on the bowstring a second time, sending an arrow into the kidney of the assassin that was closest to him. He could not even scream in pain as he died.

 

It was almost as if he was a machine. One of the feathers of his third arrow was touching his cheek by the time the assassins returned their attention to him. All it did for the assassins was allow them to watch another of their comrades die.

 

Seeing that three of their comrades had fallen to Caleb’s bow, they all rushed towards him recklessly.

 

His shots were all fast and precise, hitting each one of them in the jugular before they could get within ten feet of him.

 

Once the nine assassins were dead, Caleb’s attention turned to the street that they had come from. Towards the end of it, he could see an eleventh assassin. He quickly nocked an arrow, drew it back, and fired at that least assassin, but it sunk into the wall of the house behind where he had been standing harmlessly. He had managed to get out of the way in time.

 

“I’ll see you later,” Caleb said as he quickly took off running after the assassin with his bow in his left hand.

 

Caleb ran out of the marketplace and down the street that he had seen the assassin standing in, coming to a stop in front of the house that his arrow had struck. His eyes were to the right of where he was standing and in the direction where he had seen the assassin run off too. It was a dead-end that way.

 

Why didn’t he just go the other way?

 

Looking to his left, he saw that it went on to and actual street and was not a dead-end, so he could not figure out why the assassin had headed that way.

 

He’s an assassin, so I need to stop thinking about what I’d do if I was running again.

 

With determination, Caleb walked into the dead-end, his senses on full alert in case it was an ambush. However, he did not find an ambush or anything. In addition to that, the three doors down the dead-end were boarded shut, making it clear that the assassin had not gone into any of those houses.

 

If he’s not inside the houses, then he had to have climbed up to the rooftops or gone underground.

 

He wanted to slap himself across the face at that last thought. Looking down at his feet, he saw a manhole cover.

 

There are tunnels underneath the city. I’m not sure what their purpose is, but they’re there.

 

He stepped off of the manhole cover and removed his knife from his belt so he could use it to pry the metal cover up.

 

It did not take too much effort to get the manhole cover up, at which point he climbed down into the manhole and put the cover back.

 

As he reached the ground, he saw that the tunnels looked plain with only a little bit of water on the floor.

 

I have a feeling that the Night Blades have a base down here. I guess I’ll have to be very quiet and careful. I can’t see too well down here, and they’re probably trained to deal with this.

 

Walking forward, he soon reached the wall, showing that there were two paths he could take. With it being so dark that he could barely see, he was unable to tell which way the assassin had gone.

 

Oh great… don’t tell me they made some kind of maze down here.

 

Shaking his head, he headed to his right, having absolutely no idea where he would end up.

 

He cursed himself for not seeing the assassin and shooting at him after he had taken care of the knife thrower. If he had done so, he would not have lost the assassin.

 

With that, he began to make his way through the underground tunnels as carefully as possible.

 

* * * * *

 

About half an hour after Caleb entered the underground tunnels, the assassin that had witnessed Caleb’s fight with the other assassins entered the personal chambers of the leader of the most prestigious assassins’ guild in Arcadia.

 

Despite being the personal chambers of the leader of the Night Blades, the room that they were standing in was no more than fifteen feet by fifteen feet.

 

The assassin gulped nervously as he saw his boss sitting at his chair in front of his desk with a knife in hand. As always, the chair was turned sideways. His boss was not known for reading or anything, so it made sense that the chair never faced the right direction.

 

Victor Abrams was a man in his mid-thirties with short black hair and green eyes who always wore fine black clothes and had a goatee. He was throwing knives at a few targets that he had hanging from his wall when his subordinate entered his chambers.

 

“I’ve killed men for coming into this room uninvited,” Victor remarked as he looked at the man from the chair he was sitting in. “Tell me why I should not kill you where you stand.”

 

“Caleb of Kirakath killed the assassins that you just dispatched,” he said immediately, surprising Victor.

 

“I just sent them. How in the abyss did he kill them already?” Victor asked.

 

“He is in Umbridge,” the assassin answered. “I was going to follow the others as you commanded and observe his fighting style so the other men could defeat him with ease, but I ended up having to stay far away from the fight when it happened.”

 

Victor frowned. “What happened?”

 

“One of the men attacked him from behind, and he was actually quite stealthy about it. However, the target stepped out of the way, broke his nose, and snapped his neck faster than we could react. Then, he used a bow to shoot all of the others before they could get close. If I hadn’t been on guard, he would have shot me too. His arrow would have gone straight into my throat if I hadn’t rushed towards one of the manholes.”

 

“I see,” Victor said thoughtfully. “It’s unlikely that he will find our base, even if he followed you into the manhole. We’ll search the streets for him immediately. You may go and rest while I take care of business.”

 

“Thank you sir,” the assassin said as he left.

 

“And so the prey comes to me,” Victor said with an eager grin as he threw the knife in his hand at the target across from him, hitting it directly in the center with enough force that it buried half of the blade in the target. “Let the fun begin.”

 

 

 

Chapter 9

Caleb was not sure how long he had been in the tunnels but he was certain that he had been in there for a couple hours at the very least. The tunnels were a true maze.  There were countless twists, turns, and dead-ends.

 

He had not yet backtracked to the beginning of the tunnels where he had initially turned right, so he was just beginning to realize how extensive the tunnels were. Fortunately, he felt that he was close to finishing his search of that half of the tunnels.

 

His suspicion was confirmed when he turned around the corner and saw a light in the distance.

 

That looks like the light of a torch. Maybe it marks the entrance of their base.

 

A frown made its way to his face immediately. Even he was skeptical that he would find the entrance of their base so soon. He was not exactly a lucky person, after all.

 

Still, he gripped the hilt of his sword with his right hand and walked forward as quickly as he could without making a sound. It was a slower pace than he liked, but he was out of his element. He had been trained to sneak through the forest, not through dark tunnels.

 

As he grew nearer to the source of the light, he saw that it was indeed a lit torch, but he saw something else. He froze upon seeing it clearly.

 

He had reached the end of the tunnel, but it was almost a dead-end. It ended at a metal ladder that went up into a manhole, but his eyes were not on the ladder.

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