Twilight of Kerberos - [Shadowmage 01-03] - The Shadowmage Trilogy (Shadowmage; Night's Haunting; Legacy's Price) (92 page)

And so it came back to this. The decision that had already been made, and Lucius felt his heart grow heavy as he finally accepted what had to be done.

Even as he had entered Turnitia, Lucius had felt somewhere in the back of his mind that it was for the last time. With Pontaine on one side and Adrianna on the other, he had no choice but to keep on running. It was likely they would catch up with him, in some other city or in the wilderness, catch him and kill him to take the Guardian Starlight. Maybe, though, he would discover how to wield the artefact, unlock its secrets and make it work for him. Perhaps it would allow him to hide safely away from Adrianna and anyone in Pontaine with thoughts of war.

When he had first returned to Turnitia, long before he became guildmaster of thieves, Adrianna had accused him of always running from his problems. Now, he was running again. This time, however, he was sure it was the right thing to do.

There was just one thing to attend to before he left.

Veering his path towards the heavier crowds in the commercial areas of the city, Lucius studied the people intently. It did not take him long to find what he was looking for.

Three children of perhaps ten or eleven years old were working a crowd that had been stirred together by the presence of a street pedlar offering bottles of miracle cures that she guaranteed would heal any ailment. The woman bravely endured the jeers and heckles of disbelief, and continued her patter, slowly bringing some of those listening to her way of thinking. She was good, Lucius could tell, but it was the children he was after.

They were in the classic three-pronged position he had learned when he first joined the guild, winding their way from different directions among the crowd. The tallest boy among them was the distraction, while a freckled lad would grab a purse. Then, a red-haired boy hanging at the entrance of a side street was the runner, who would spirit away their ill-gotten gains. That was the one he could use now.

The youth gave him a disparaging look that said “go away” as Lucius approached, until recognition dawned.

“Guildmaster,” the boy said, attempting something of a bow crossed with a curtsey.

“Go back to the guildhouse, boy, and find Wendric. You understand?”

Though confused at the sudden appearance of his boss, the boy nodded.

“Tell him to meet me at the eastern gate with all speed. Tell him ‘gold over blood’, use those exact words, clear?”

“Gold over blood.” The boy nodded as he repeated the words.

“Go now,” Lucius urged. “Run!”

The boy disappeared into the side street with an impressive turn of speed.

Waiting among the wealthier townhouses that lined the thoroughfare leading to the eastern gate of the city, Lucius saw Wendric approach and intercepted him before he walked into line of sight with the men-at-arms manning the gatehouse. He did not expect them to give him any trouble in this part of the city, but caution was over-riding everything now.

“Gold over blood?” Wendric asked. He looked rattled that Lucius had used the pre-arranged phrase. “What the hell is going on, Lucius?”

“I can’t explain fully – and believe me that is for your own safety as much as mine – but you have to listen carefully and do what I tell you.”

“You are in trouble.”

Lucius nodded. “The worst possible kind.”

“Alright, we can work through this. What do you need from me?”

“You are not going to like it. I want you to take over the running of the guild.”

Wendric shrugged. “That is never a problem, you know that. Believe it or not, the guildhouse
is
still standing since your last departure.”

“No. I mean I want you to take over the guild. Permanently.”

“That is not funny, Lucius.”

“I am really not joking, Wendric. I know you are content with the position of lieutenant, and I can sympathise with that. I never really wanted to be guildmaster either, but there is no one else I can trust to look after the thieves. It has to be you.”

“God’s teeth, Lucius, this is a hell of a thing to just land on me.”

“For that, I apologise, but I have no other choice. I’m leaving the city, and I don’t ever expect to come back.”

“Hold on there. Just what kind of trouble are you in?”

“I told you, the worst kind.” Lucius sighed. “I can’t tell you what is going on, only that it has nothing to do with guild activities and any trouble it brings you will be minor and easily handled. The guild is not the target. It will just be me.”

“Can you tell me where you are going?”

“Absolutely not. As I said, I do not expect to be able to return here. Ever. This will be the last time you see me, Wendric.”

“Well... at least let me help you in some way. You have provisions? Travelling gear?”

“I have everything I need. I’ll steal a horse from the gatehouse stables. I really need nothing more – except the knowledge that my thieves will be looked after.”

“I’ll keep them safe, Lucius. You’ve trained them well, the guild almost runs itself these days.”

They stared at one another for a moment, both having run out of words. It was Wendric that broke the silence.

“You really cannot tell me anything?”

“Not about what is happening right now. I can tell you that war is coming between Vos and Pontaine, and that it will probably be bad for the city. But Grennar can fill you in on that.”

Wendric paled at that news, and looked as though he was going to be sick.

“I am very sorry to see you go, Lucius,” Wendric said when he found his voice. “We’ve had... good times since you were in charge.”

“You know what they say – all good things come to an end.”

“Never thought I would see the day. You look after yourself, Lucius, and try to get out of this hole you are in. If you ever need anything, no matter how difficult, you be sure to send us a message. You promise me now.”

Lucius smiled. “Thank you, Wendric, I promise. But I can also tell you, this really is the last time we will speak.”

He looked up and down the path, then pulled the hood of his cloak over his head.

“Take care of my thieves, Wendric. That is all I ask.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

G
ALLOPING ALONG AT
speed across the open grassland, Lucius might have enjoyed himself if he were not fleeing his home city. The horse, a fine pure-bred he had relieved from a wealthy merchant near the eastern gatehouse, seemed to be escaping its own kind of hell, such was its vigour.

Together, they had left Turnitia at some pace and soon the walls, tall townhouses and even the mighty towers of the Citadel had disappeared behind the horizon. They encountered a steady stream of travellers: a merchant train here, a Pontaine knightly delegation there, and farmers, craftsmen and their families, streaming in from the farms and hamlets that surrounded Turnitia, all hoping to seek greater fortune.

At an opportune time, Lucius pulled on the reins and they swung south, off the road that led to Andon, riding cross-country. As evening started to descend, the small settlements and farms grew less frequent, and he started to feel a little more comfortable with each mile he put between him and real civilisation.

Though the horse was strong and well looked after, Lucius fuelled it with a minor enchantment.

He had not given a great deal of thought to where he would flee before he had crossed through the gates of the city, his mind more focussed on evading Adrianna and the baron, and ensuring his guild would be in safe hands. As it happened, he discovered he had little choice in the matter anyway.

Northwards was out. That would be heading straight into the clutches of Adrianna, which meant instant death after what she would regard as his deepest betrayal of her. If he avoided her, there was always the possibility the Preacher Divine still lived and, if he had perished in the Territories, then his successor would likely have an interest in the Guardian Starlight. The thought of that artefact in the hands of Vos and the Anointed Lord made Lucius shiver.

Eastwards would be just as foolish, for that meant Pontaine.

He had not even considered west and the ocean. Lucius was no sailor and he firmly believed the extent of man’s voyages across open bodies of water should be restricted to calm lakes, at least as far as he was concerned. He had taken a short voyage on the open ocean just once, an aborted attempt to reach the Sarcre Islands, something both he and the inexperienced captain quickly regretted.

That only left south, and the trackless wilderness beckoned to Lucius, promising anonymity and safe hiding within its empty expanse. Having no real plan for where he was headed or what he would do when he got there, he simply pointed his horse south and trusted to fate.

The World’s Ridge Mountains, still many, many miles away, began to rear up in front of him, and he imagined that perhaps he could find some small village in their foothills, a place cut off from the schemes and politicking of city people, inhabited by those who bore no allegiance to Vos or Pontaine. He could turn his hand to anything, and such a place would surely welcome such a multi-talented individual once he had proved himself. Or maybe he would carry on travelling, and explore the furthest recesses of the world, seeing things no one had set their eyes on before. Perhaps he would find a secret pass through the impenetrable World’s Ridge Mountains and be the first to stagger though their rocky trails to discover what lay beyond. Maybe it would be a strange but wonderful new world where there were no separate nations, and all men lived in peace.

Well, he could dream, surely?

His good mood remained throughout the evening and night.

Making camp, he felt wonderfully alone as he chewed his way through the dried meats he had packed. Sleep came quickly that night and, for the first time in a long time, it was peaceful and unbroken. Lucius woke as the sun started to rise over the mountains and immediately felt wide awake and alert. Putting it down to having escaped his problems or possibly just the fresh breeze that blew down from the mountains, he discovered he was hungry. After walking the horse a short distance to give it a new patch of vegetation on which to graze, Lucius jogged away from his camp, eyes scanning the middle distance as he watched like a hawk for movement. There!

In the lee of a small rise, a colony of brown-furred rabbits had already spotted him and were all staring in his direction suspiciously, trying to gauge what threat he might represent. Lucius purposefully turned side on to them and then walked slowly, appearing to keep his distance but actually spiralling inwards, closing the range by an inch with each step.

The rabbits went back to their own grazing, but soon became alarmed at Lucius’ behaviour as he began to circle them. He saw one sit up on its haunches and sniff the air, while another hopped a few feet away from him. Then another started hopping.

Seeing his chance slip away, Lucius turned towards them and broke into a run, mentally gathering the flow of magic around him as he fashioned a spell.

His quarry ran as soon as he started running, white tails flapping as they crossed the uneven ground at a pace he thought amazing for creatures so small. Barely breaking his stride, Lucius squinted his eyes as he aimed, and then threw a hand forward. A small ball of green fire leapt from his palm and sailed unerringly towards one of the rabbits. As it struck the target on the back of the neck, it flared briefly, causing Lucius to shield his eyes.

When he looked again, the rabbit lay still on the ground, smoke rising from its singed fur.

Lucius regarded the dead creature for a moment before he stooped to pick it up. No, hunting with magic was never fair, but he was hungry and no huntsman, and a man used what tools he had. After the dried meat of the night before, he very much liked the idea of roasted rabbit.

The sun continued its climb into the crisp morning sky, and Lucius found himself rather enjoying the skinning and gutting of his meal, as unskilful as he was.

He laid with his back on the grass, staring up at the sky while listening to the sound of his horse snatching at clumps of grass and his rabbit beginning to sizzle over a fire. Inhaling deep the fresh morning air, Lucius smiled to himself, but the breath stuck in his throat. Frowning, he sat up and looked around, trying to work out what was wrong. His eyes floated over the camp fire, grass, horse, mountains, and then settled on the Guardian Starlight, as ever tucked into his belt.

Lucius held the artefact up in front of his face. He began to feel its magical aura pulsing, sweeping over him as he stared, trying to work out what it was doing, or what it was trying to tell him.

Suddenly, his vision went blank, the grasslands and mountains disappeared to be replaced with the threads of magic running through the world as he perceived the arcane power he drew upon. Streaming around him, the threads spun round the Guardian Starlight like tightly wound cords, drawn into it and through it, gaining a vivid vibrancy as they streamed out of the artefact. Then his perception twitched and he was aware of other forces pulling on the magic of the world, strong, powerful forces that were loaded with deadly intent.