Thieves of Islar: Book One of The Heirs of Bormeer (37 page)

G
erlido pulled back his lieutenants, watching and waiting. His first impulse at seeing the Guard with the deAlto girl had been to run. He had the smuggle
r’
s tunnel that led deeper into the Riordans and from there they could make for the coastline until he came up with a better plan. But each step through the cellar fueled his anger.
How dare they?
The thought of running from an upstart guild in league with the church, the city Guard, and an anemic guildmaster brought him to a stop.

Henri’s Hands! They have nipped at my heels, like circling herd dogs, annoying but not really a threat. And by the time I noticed them, they had half my guild fleeing the city or in their graves.

Provided that they would make it this far, he was determined to kill all three deAltos and anyone else foolish enough to stand with them.

Sukul had convinced him that the younger boy was dangerous with his crossbow. He had Brale extinguishing torches to let the cellar’s shadowy darkness counter that threat.
By the time they come, my guild will have trimmed them down.
But he hoped the three orphans made it. He wanted to kill them himself.

Gerlido had one more surprise for the upstart guild leaders. He silently signaled his lieutenants. Brale and Sukul slunk to the sides of the room into the shadows wavering between the torches. Gerlido waited behind his desk, his senses extended. He heard the tunnel door lock finally give up.

“They’re coming,” he whispered.

Gerlido called out once he was sure they were in the room. “No discussion or negotiation, eh deAlto?”

“Nothing to talk about, Gerlido,” Jaeron said. “You know why we’re here.” The boy’s calm was ice.

“He doesn’t know all of it.” The girl, Avrilla spoke. Her voice seethed.

“It doesn’t matter. He dies just the same.”

“That will be harder than you think,” Gerlido said.
My guild has its secrets.

Gerlido’s bestial vision penetrated the darkness. The deAltos fanned out as they entered the room.
So, it will just be the three of them
. The elder boy, Jaeron, came down the center, sword up flashing left to right in parries as he negotiated his way in the semi-dark. To his right, the other brother advanced more slowly, his crossbow leveled toward the distant wall. On their left came the girl, her twin kukri in reverse grips, blades protecting her forearms.

She tried to convey confidence, but underneath Gerlido could smell her fear. He would take her first. Their sentimentality would make them despair when they saw their sister eviscerated. Gerlido snarled as Jaeron stepped into the light.

Gerlido smiled, and his smile became a grimace. Gerlido’s face stretched and darkened. His ears grew more pointed and climbed to the upper part of the guildmaster’s head and a thin sheen of grey-black fur sprouted over much of his face. His nose flattened back, nostrils flaring out and splitting into a complex series of tiny caverns. His teeth narrowed into pointed needles and his canines grew into longer fangs. The net effect was that the face was still Gerlido, but meshed with the face of a large, angry bat.

“Mara’s orbs” Chazd shouted. “They’re Tainted!”

As further changes overcame Gerlido’s body, a similar transformation was underway for his lieutenants. Sukul’s body leaned out and curved over. His leg joint structure reversed. Hands became claws. Teeth became fangs. Overall the change made him feline in shape, but with human features. On the other hand, Brale just grew. Already a brute, he gained another foot of height and another hundred pounds of mass. His skin became raw and leathery as his body stretched it and then finally split open in long, jagged seams exposing muscle and blood underneath.

The boy, Chazd, swore to himself.
He was not prepared for this
. Gerlido smiled. He was confident that none of the deAltos were.

C
hazd fired, cocked, reloaded, and fired again manipulating the crossbow as fast as he ever had. Remembering how fast he had been that morning on the street, he targeted Sukul. The first quarrel missed. The second struck Sukul low in the torso, just below his ribcage on the left side and buried deep.
That should have killed him.
If Sukul were human.
Instead, the creature fell back a step and with a piercing shriek began working the missile out of its guts.

Mother Mara!
Chazd’s hands shook as he loaded the crossbow again. He was able to loose a third shot, but his aim was off. The missile lodged into Brale’s shoulder within footsteps of his closing with Jaeron. Sword clashed with steel-encased fist as his brother engaged the half-breed. For his part, Brale seemed to ignore the feathered shaft sticking out of his body.

Gerlido had closed the intervening distance to Avrilla, rapier drawn and pulling a dagger from its sheath with his off-hand. Avrilla stepped into a low crouch, her kukri crossed in front of her in classic Sevinci combat style. Two on two the combat circled the far end of the room, Gerlido and Brale seeming to feed off each other’s energy as they fought.

Chazd could not get a clear shot at either of the Black Fangs, but in seconds it did not matter. Sukul recovered and charged. Moving in a pattern of diagonal pounces, the Tainted was making its way directly toward him.

Chazd loaded another quarrel and then let fly. The shot sliced a ragged tear across Sukul’s left calf. The Tainted tumbled behind a pair of storage barrels near the side of the room. Chazd’s hands shook as he stepped into the bow’s stirrup again.
Aim well, Chazd.
He gauged the distance and the Tainted’s speed. He would not get another.

Calm
.
Breathe
.
Aim
. The words cycled through his mind as he watched the hunched figure move. Shadow to shadow, Sukul’s leap took him from the barrels to a support column, and over the crates in front of Chazd. Sukul arced into his last leap.
Fire
.

The man-beast hit him hard, sending his crossbow flying out of his hands. Chazd fought to keep Sukul’s claws from his face and neck. He felt a burning sensation across his shoulder as he struck the floor hard with his back and head. Chazd tried rolling with the blow. He pulled his knees up under Sukul’s hips, using the creature’s momentum to toss the Tainted toward the back of the room. Sukul continued on his trajectory careening in an awkward heap into a table stacked with matching chairs.

Only then did Chazd notice the wild spray of blood in the air and the fact that he was spattered with a heavy stripe of the thick, dark liquid. Getting to his knees, he looked at the broken form of Sukul lying at the back of the room. As dark as it was, Chazd could see his last shot had been a good one. The crossbow bolt had ripped through the side of the half-man’s neck, severing the major artery. He guessed it to be a wound from which even the Tainted could not recover.

He set his crossbow on its stirrup and tried to use it to push himself to his feet. Jagged fingers of pain reached into his shoulder as he applied the pressure needed to stand. His visions sparkled and he got dizzy. Afraid to look, Chazd glanced over at his shoulder and saw that the blood there did not all belong to Sukul. The Black Fang had managed to bite into him during his demise. Gritting his teeth, Chazd pushed through the pain and reset his crossbow.
I think I’ll stay here on my knees to help.

~

Jaeron’s situation needed to change. He had pierced Brale near the groin and had followed up with a slice across his chest and shoulder. But neither wound had any effect against the huge thief. The cuts regenerated within seconds. The lieutenant roared and swung his massive fists, enclosed in those studded plates.

What he had hoped would be a balanced fight against the three guild leaders was falling apart.
Great Teichmar, Tainted.
As strike after strike was deflected by the huge hands, Jaeron decided to take a chance. Using a technique that was normally meant to deter animals, Jaeron executed two sweeping attacks at knee level and then charged in. He grimaced as he took a glancing punch against his ribcage, but he had anticipated the attack well enough. Though Brale would normally have an advantage in such close quarters, the big man had to use one hand to keep Jaeron’s sword from his throat. With a twist into a kneeling position, Jaeron moved to a one-handed hold on his weapon and threw an elbow strike against Brale’s knee. The risky maneuver was rewarded with a sickening crunch as the knee dislocated to the side.

Brale collapsed in pain. Jaeron sprang out of the way of the flailing punches and spun into a kneeling mountain backhand stroke. The blade parted muscle and bone, cleanly passing through Brale’s left hand at the wrist.

The brute let out a mournful wail but continued his advance. A shuffling half step, half dragging his injured leg. His remaining hand swung out in crushing blows. One backhand struck the wall, powdering the plaster, and sending shards of stone flying. Jaeron stayed out of the way, then dipped his sword and flexed into a back stance, waiting for an opening.

Brale lurched, bringing his good leg forward, and Jaeron acted. His feint to the right caused the man-beast to turn, putting all of his weight on the dislocated joint. It crumpled underneath the towering mass. Jaeron struck as Brale fell, an upward hawk wing pulling the power of the mountain to the sky. The Pevaran blade met the falling mass of meat. Brale fell apart from hip to neck.

~

At the front of the chamber, Gerlido was proving his prowess as a combat guildmaster. He was pushing Avrilla to the extent of her fighting abilities. He had the advantage of weapon length and physical strength while she had an edge in speed, agility, and weapons specifically designed for countering close weapon attacks. Gerlid
o’
s razor sharp dagger scored and a thin line of blood shone across Avrill
a’
s hip when she used a two-handed trap on the rapier.

“Mara’s orbs,” Avrilla swore and pulled her kukri down.

She rolled back onto her buttocks and kicking straight out with her feet. The move caught Gerlido unaware and he tripped face first into Avrilla’s driving heels. The Tainted guildmaster crashed backward, sprawling into his desk.

“Bitch!” Gerlido shouted as he scrambled back out of range of her weapons.

At first, Avrilla’s combat with Gerlido felt more of an even match than those facing her brothers. Gerlido’s form was fearsome, shocking, but seemed to provide him no physical advantage. He fought two handed, rapier and off-hand dagger in a style which she had faced many times in the sparring hall.

In comparison, Avrilla was almost as quick as Gerlido and her kukri were heavier blades. They were deflecting his strikes with the lighter weapons with ease. The problem was that she could not get out of a purely defensive fight. Gerlido engaged in attack after attack, in combinations that were not designed to work together. He seemed tireless. Conversely, Avrilla felt herself beginning to wear down.

Then she caught a break. Gerlido seemed to react to a sudden pain in his side, though she could not see what caused it. As he came back up from his shallow double-over, Avrilla launched an attack sequence of her own. Her initial strikes were cross-body outward pushes, designed to open the opponent up, driving their weapons out and away. She followed with a low feint, expecting the downward deflection block, and finished with a left-hand swing to the head.

Gerlido pulled his bat-like head out of the way and her kukri scored a shallow slice that merely broke his skin near his ear and cut cleanly through his cheek at the mouth line. Blood few from his animal face. Gerlido snarled and his eyes lit with an orange glow. There was more to it than the reflection of the torches in the room. The guildmaster threw his weapons to the floor and brought his hands and arms up and out. Drool and blood ran from his tongue and between his teeth as his bat-like mouth formed an arcane prayer to Malfekke.

Avrilla shouted a warning to her brothers and rushed forward with her blades. Whatever he was doing, she could see her attack would be too late. Crackling power pooled in Gerlido’s palms. Black, writhing energy surrounded his hands like miniature thunderstorms.

She saw the blow coming and spun her right wrist outward, using the kukri to both block the attack and slash Gerlido's hand. His fist smashed into her blade with the power of a bull. The hardened steel of the kukri shattered. The resulting torque twisted the handle out of her hand, sending it flying across the room but not before the forces bent her wrist into an awkward angle. She heard something pop and the concussion knocked her to her buttocks on the stone. Avrilla scrambled backward, trying to stay out of reach of the Black Fangs’ leader. She managed to keep her left blade out, threatening, despite the sudden rush of pain.

Gerlido’s bestial face split open in a wide grin. Such elemental emotion displayed on the animal face shook her. The swirling blackness was gone from one of his hands, discharged in the attack, but the mist was again bleeding from the Tainted’s claws. It would only be seconds before Gerlido would be ready to make another such attack.

On the defensive, Avrilla skittered around the desk. She feinted once to keep up her pretense of being prepared. Gerlido seemed to take the bait, then laughed as he made an easy leap up onto the desk's surface. She took a chance swing against his unprotected legs, but he avoided it with a nonchalant jump.
Nimble son of a bitch
.

Avrilla’s right arm hung at her side, unresponsive. She was afraid to stand, fearing Gerlido would use the opportunity to attack. Out of options, she rolled backward over her shoulder, trying to tumble to the other wall. The back roll gave her distance, but she came to a stop with her weight on her right hand. Jolts of pain brought tears to her eyes.

She had been so afraid that Gerlido would pursue her, but he seemed struck by another mysterious pain. Avrilla thought her brother might be sniping at him with his crossbow, but a quick glance in Chazd’s direction worried her more. Chazd was still kneeling on the ground, covered in gore.

Gerlido’s bat eyes widened and his lips pulled back. A nightmare image, his facial wounds had mostly healed. He dropped off the desk and advanced toward her. Avrilla stood, agony screaming through her arm, sliding her back up the wall. She was determined to die on her feet.

Before Gerlido crossed half the distance between them, Jaeron rushed forward, sword raised across his shoulder. For a second, she felt relieved. Her brother was bringing this fight to its end.

Somehow, Gerlido anticipated Jaeron’s strike. He spun and caught Jaeron’s sword in his left hand, releasing a pulse of darkness that sounded like a thunderclap as it absorbed the lethal energy of Jaeron’s blow. The Pevaran-made weapon survived the feedback, but knocked her brother across the floor slamming him into the wall. His sword dropped halfway between them, coming to rest with a telltale rattle against the stone.

Gerlido took advantage of her brother’s stunned condition and leaped to counterattack. Despite the heavyset body and the malformed proportions of his shifted form, the guildmaster proved supernaturally graceful.

“Stop!”

Avrilla’s shout came from reflex. An instant of dread for Jaeron’s life welled up within her, imparting a strength to her magical command. It propagated like a wave through the room, freezing Gerlido in place. Only a second from a killing swipe of his claws against her brother. Avrilla’s relief soared back into fear, however, as she realized the power of her command affected Jaeron as well. He staggered back, nearly stunned into unconsciousness.

Heart pounding, Avrilla rushed forward despite her pain, shifting her remaining kukri into a two-handed grip. Gerlido must have sensed the danger, his Tainted state resisting some of her charm’s impact. He turned to face her, his movements slow, the effort of concentration clear on his face.

Avrilla swung, her blade arcing down and cleaving into Gerlido’s left shoulder. The blade snapped through his clavicle and buried itself in his upper ribs.
Close
.
So close to his thrice damned heart.
But Gerlido was not finished. He bared fanglike teeth at her, dark blood dribbling from his mouth and struck back.

The backfist broke her nose and snapped her head back. The blow sent her sprawling backward against the walnut desk. She felt the second impact of her skull against the wood just before the world went black.