Blood of the Redd Guard - Part Two Read online

  Adar had never harmed a woman and even though the realization filled him with regret, he didn’t have time to dwell on it because her companion had turned on him.

  Behind the cloaked figure, Nelion held a dagger in each hand, her beautiful face marred by a snarl. The second dagger was a surprise but Adar supposed he shouldn't have been taken off guard; she had after all served as a Radim. Seeing her with the blades flashing in the night made him pause. His hesitation was almost too long, by the time he tore his eyes away from her the other man was to him.

  Adar parried an attack and met it with his own, only to have the man—there could be no doubt this time, based on the low tone of his growl and his large shoulders—block the blow with his sword and return it.

  The blows they exchanged rang through the still evening air. As the next attack came, the arc of the man’s blade, the way he leapt off the ground, and the glint of his eyes behind the mask all seemed to slow. Adar took a breath, brought up his own sword, took a step forward and took advantage of the fact the man was in the air to push him to the ground when their swords met.

  The man rolled to his feet but remained squatting as he blocked Adar’s next attack. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Adar was surprised that he hadn’t taken the man down by now. There weren’t many in the Radim armies at Adar’s skill level, and he could count them all on one hand. Whoever was behind this mask, Adar knew and had fought before. He began to list them off but stopped so he could turn his full concentration to the fight.

  Crouching, Adar dodged a strike and brought his sword up into his attacker, who twisted in time to take the blow on his ribs and lower arm, instead of through the chest. The man made a low howling sound but continued through with his own blow. Adar dove in time to keep the man from taking him in the neck.

  Nelion charged with a cry, wielding the sword of the fallen female assailant. The man met the new attack, giving Adar a chance to get to his feet.

  Adar expected the man to cut Nelion down, but she parried the blows rather well, even though she struggled to bring her own attack. Adar charged without hesitation. Some believed a fight should be one on one, but Adar never felt bound to such restrictions. Dead was dead, and he wasn’t about to let Nelion be cut down by some shadow in the night.

  The man shifted his attention to Adar and blocked the attack, resulting in a surprised but relieved look from Nelion. In another situation, the look on her face would have brought a smile to Adar’s lips. Instead, he was just glad she was skilled enough with the sword that she was still alive.

  After meeting Adar’s attack, the man fumbled with something up his sleeve that slipped out and fell to the road. Breaking glass accompanied a blinding flash of light. Adar slashed at the place where the man had last been, but his sword found nothing but air. Blinking his eyes, he tried to see through the afterimages and could make out the man hopping onto a barrel before scaling the wall of the building he’d jumped off earlier.

  On instinct, Adar pulled a dagger and flung it. The blade made a dull sound when it sunk into the wood, missing the man by a few feet.

  Cursing, Adar was already reaching for another dagger, but the man had disappeared onto the roof.

  Adar weighed his options and tried to decide if it would be better to chase after the man or see to the woman he’d attacked earlier. The building that their attacker had climbed wouldn’t be the man’s final destination. The next several buildings were close enough that he’d be able to travel from roof to roof. If he made it over to the tavern, it wouldn’t take much effort to disappear into the crowd.

  With a glance at the roof, Adar examined the woman he’d run through with his blade. Her breathing was labored and shallow; blood formed in a pool underneath her and she had her hand to her mouth. In the scant moonlight, Adar could just make out foam as it oozed past her lips.

  Sycanon root extract. The woman had seconds to live. Cursing, he bent down even though it was futile and removed her hand. Her head slumped to the side as she stopped breathing.

  Nelion approached. “She’s dressed like the others.”

  Adar didn’t answer as he used a dagger to cut the string that secured the mask to the woman's head and lifted it from her face. Shifting so the moonlight would hit her, he looked down on the woman, her face burning into his memory. From the dark eyes to her trimmed eyebrows to her pointed chin, he knew he’d never forget her. She wasn’t as attractive as Nelion but had probably turned a head now and then.

  Sighing, he knew he shouldn’t have looked because he would be seeing her in his dreams. Each time the scene would play out and he’d try to take a different path, but it would always end the same, like so many of the others he’d killed before. The thought brought tears to his eyes, but he blinked them back. While he was awake, it wasn’t a problem. He’d made the right decision and it wouldn’t hold him back while he was conscious.

  Standing, he looked at Nelion and held out the mask. “The others wore this?” The last time he’d seen its like had been in the Rarbon Palace archives. There were little spikes at the top Adar hadn’t noticed until now. He’d supposed that they were there to mimic the horns that sat on top of the Hunwei heads. He’d never seen a live Hunwei but had run into a fossil a few times before.

  She gave a quick nod of her head and Adar sighed. It had been a long time since the Kopal had dared to show themselves in Rarbon. In light of everything else he had going on, it was something that he could have done without.

  He shouldn’t have been surprised. With all the evangelizing that Semal was doing about the return of the Hunwei, the Kopal were bound to become more active. How could they not? It took effort to not crumple the mask as he held it in his hand.

  Chapter 8

  The temperature in his office was warmer than Helam would have preferred so he opened the window to let in the cool evening air. Children played on the street below and Helam was reminded of when Molach had been that young. The image of his son holding a wooden sword and out of breath from running with his friends brought a smile to Helam’s lips.

  It didn’t last long though. Briggs hadn’t returned with a report yet and Helam was having a hard time concentrating on anything else. As the evening had progressed, he was becoming concerned that he’d made the wrong decision. Killing Birgemat while in Adar’s custody would have been less risky; he should have just done it and found a way to get another spy close to Adar. Helam had already underestimated Adar, the risk wasn’t worth it.

  He realized he had something in his hand and looked down at the small bottle he’d been rolling around with his fingers. It contained powdered laely flower; he was never without it. All his bodyguards carried the stuff as well. He couldn’t count the number of times it had turned out to be useful to sprinkle a little bit of the stuff in someone’s drink or on top of their food. Once consumed, the person would be unconscious within a few minutes and when they woke up half a day later, they’d be hard pressed to remember their last waking hour. It was a nervous habit of his to play with the bottle.

  He looked at the cork to make sure that it was still in place before replacing it in his pocket. He’d accidently taken some himself one time and fortunately hadn’t forgotten anything important. Ever since then he found himself checking multiple times a day to make sure that the cork hadn’t moved.

  Several times during the last hour, he had almost sent one of his personal guards after Briggs, but each time he stopped himself and renewed his determination to be patient. Before too much longer he hoped to receive word that the ruse had worked and that Birgemat was on his way to the Paroke army base.

  Helam had already signed the man’s execution order. Once Birgemat was in Briggs custody, it would just be a matter of time before the problem was behind him. With Birgemat dead, executed because he’d been found guilty by the Paroke army tribunal in absentia for stealing gold from the Paroke army treasury, Helam would breathe a lot easier. Because the made up crime had happened on his base
, it was within Helam’s authority. Everything was in place; all that was needed was for Briggs to come back with Birgemat.

  He went back to his desk and stood behind the chair as he surveyed his office; it was another reminder of the compromises he’d made since he’d discovered his wife Elaire’s secret. If it had been up to him, he never would have traded his austere quarters located within the Inner Wall for this more comfortable home on the Paroke grounds. But Elaire had a way of getting from him the things that she wanted, even before she had the full threat and force of the Kopal behind her. She’d given him an ultimatum and left him with few options other than killing her or going along with it.

  He still loved her too much for the former and so he’d been stuck with the latter. He’d considered mounting a campaign against her that would have allowed him to move back into the official Paroke general headquarters, but the thought never made it far because he couldn’t allow himself to think of his wife as the enemy she was. With love, some matters didn’t make sense and that was just the way it was.

  He could have moved back without her, but the rumors that went around about his marital troubles were bad enough without adding fuel to the fire. He didn’t know whether it was Elaire, Molach or one of their servants spreading around the troublesome stories and he didn’t much care to find out because he was afraid of what he would learn.

  Sometimes it was better not to know. At least, that is what he told himself. Since there appeared to be no chance of repairing the relationship between him and his wife, they’d at least managed to arrive at some semblance of civility they each could live with. For now. While he knew that he’d never convince her to see his way on things that still didn’t stop him from hoping that at some point she’d give in and they’d reconcile.

  But was he taking too much of a chance by not proactively monitoring her activities? He’d never arranged to have a spy follow her and he was beginning to wonder if that was a mistake. When he’d learned the truth, he had initially considered the idea but had delayed implementing it. Somehow, it had just felt wrong to have his wife followed. But as his hopes for reconciliation had all but disappeared, he had to be more practical, especially considering her increasing unexplained absences.

  A knock on the door broke him from his thoughts and he gave the instruction to come in. When it opened, a Paroke soldier was shown in by his servant Kiral, who gave a slight bow before she left. Helam didn’t know the man by name, but recognized that he was one of the Inner Wall guards. The man was sweaty and breathing a little hard. His uniform didn’t look worn and his face still had a boyish cast to it.

  “General Rahid sent you a message that he is here visiting the archives.” The guard scratched under his lip.

  Helam felt his pulse quicken and stifled a frown. “Did he say what he is looking for?” As far as Helam knew, there wasn’t anything damaging in the Paroke archives, but his wife had made it clear to him that the archives had to be protected. He didn’t know more than that because she wouldn’t say. He’d been tempted more than once to have his scribes start poking around, but so far hadn’t been willing to take the risk.

  A startled look crossed the guard’s face. “Semal and several of his scribes were attacked earlier, several people are dead. I guess Adar was coming to help out.”

  Helam put his hands behind his back, clenched his fists, and bit off a curse. If he had known that Semal was on base, he would have done something about it. Letting that man into the archives was as good as putting a candle next to a haystack. He’d given his wife too much free rein if she thought she could get away with something like murder on his base. He thanked the guard and called for Kiral to show the man out.

  Helam remained standing behind his desk once the man was gone, breathing until his lungs were full, trying to get control of his anger. He’d long ago given up the habit of throwing things or punching whatever was closest but that didn’t make dealing with his rage any easier.

  Helam had given to his guards a list of people that had to be watched, but it was beyond his power to forbid them entry to his base without cause. Several of those on the list had a notation by their name requiring that Helam be notified when they entered. Semal and Adar both had such a notation.

  The fact that Semal had gotten through without Helam knowing about it was bothersome but would have been recoverable if Semal hadn’t gone to the archives and gotten himself in trouble. The last thing that Helam needed right now was for the Kopal to feel that they had been forced into action. He couldn't afford for the tension to escalate between him and his wife.

  Helam was walking towards the door of his office when Elaire entered and pulled the dark mahogany door shut behind her. His wife was a beautiful woman and while that had been what attracted him to her, it wasn’t what had kept him courting her. It was her snappy wit, uncanny ability to remember trivial facts, and the way she could understand complicated things easier than most. She’d never enlisted, but she had a grasp for the way the Radim armies worked that most generals didn’t have.

  He looked across the room at her and tried to force a smile, it wouldn’t come. There had been a time when he didn’t do anything except he consulted her first. He had sometimes changed his plans based on her recommendations but it hadn’t been that way for half a decade. It had also been that long since he’d last held her in his arms or kissed her.

  “Semal and his scribes cannot be allowed to leave the base.” Elaire folded her arms and stared him in the eye. It wasn’t the first such occasion she’d approached him with a request, but this was the first one that crossed the line.

  “Coming to me to clean up your mess? What are you hiding?”

  “That doesn’t concern you,” she snapped.

  Helam made a fist and brought it down on the table, hard. “Our agreement is noninterference. Explain to me how attacking Semal doesn’t violate that.” He was angry enough that he didn’t regret the physical outburst, but he knew he would once he calmed down.

  “Noninterference with Paroke army. Semal doesn’t report to you and wasn’t here at your request. He snuck in and stole a key to the Paroke archives.” His wife glared at him. “If anything, you should be thanking us for trying to apprehend a thief and a trespasser.”

  “That’s part of the issue, isn’t it? Your people failed.”

  “My people had to depart when your guards showed up.”

  “And now you want me to finish the job.”

  Elaire snarled as she opened the door. “We’ll clean up our own mess. Don’t let them leave the base.”

  No matter how she wanted to look at it, this was crossing their boundaries. Helam had never agreed to do anything to help further her ridiculous cause. For the sake of Molach, their agreement had been to leave one another alone. If Helam wasn’t careful, that woman either would be the death of him or would bring down everything that he’d spent years building.

  His wife had never said as much, but Helam had assumed that if Elaire were to die under suspicious circumstances, she had something in place that would ensure he wouldn’t be far behind.

  Even the thought of planning her demise galled him but if she was going to start breaking their agreement, there was only so far he could let her go. While he loved his wife, he couldn’t stand by and let her undermine his plans and the safety of Rarbon when her ultimate goal was to serve the cause of the Kopal.

  If it hadn’t been for Elaire, Helam would have begun rooting out their infestation as soon as he’d discovered it. If his wife was serious about taking action while thumbing her nose at him, he’d have little choice in the matter. He’d put up with the Kopal for too long as it was.

  It was time to have her followed.

  How could I have married a woman who believes that the Hunwei will bring her salvation? He wondered. The notion that the Hunwei hadn’t come to destroy them all those years ago was laughable. All accounts, from all peoples, had agreed on one thing. The Hunwei had come to ravage a
nd enslave. Nothing more. They’d even rebuffed any attempts at negotiation and had refused to enter a dialogue.

  Helam was startled into action again when he heard the front door shut. He assumed that meant his wife had left. Elaire was going to kill Semal unless Helam interceded. While the old man could be annoying, he had dedicated his life to studying the Hunwei.

  When they returned, Semal would be a handy person to have around.

  Helam left his office and was on his way to the door when he ran into Molach, limping along while leaning on Tymy—one of Helam’s personal bodyguards—for support. Molach was pale and held his hand to his side.

  “He just showed up,” Tymy said, “I’ve already sent for the doctor.” The doctor lived a block away, a fact that Helam had never appreciated until now.

  “I’m sorry--” Molach started to say, but Helam cut him off.

  “Quick. This way.”

  Molach stumbled and Tymy swept him up into his large bulky arms. Molach, a tall and strong man in his own right, looked small when compared with Tymy.

  Helam led Tymy to the guest bedroom. It was rarely occupied and hadn’t ever been used by any of Helam's guests. He tossed decorative pillows to the floor.

  “Put him here and find a candle.”

  Tymy stepped back when he was done, wiping blood from his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

  “Light! I need light.” Using his hands to feel in the darkness, Helam pulled out a dagger and cut away Molach’s coat and shirt. By that time Tymy had returned with a candle and the light revealed a long bloody wound on the side of Molach’s chest and another smaller cut on his arm. Neither looked life threatening.