The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books) (37 page)

F
ROM THE GUILDHOUSE,
small bands of thieves left through the secret entrances to the sewer system and spread out across the city. Vos guard and the few brave Guild men looking to make reprisals were ignored. For once, they were not the target.

These bands divided themselves and regrouped in new locations, expanding across Turnitia like a dark cancer, taking streets least used and alleys least watched. Slowly, they converged upon the docks, a secret army preparing for its last assault.

Finding Lucius on the roof of a warehouse near the cliffs, Ambrose reported that a dozen sentries had been located and eliminated, leaving the path clear for their own thieves to gather and assemble into an attack force. Nodding his thanks, Lucius gave him instructions to report again when each band of thieves was in position. Watching Ambrose withdraw, he returned his attention to the building he had been scanning.

The beggars had found the new guildhouse by the same manner they discovered everything else. Throughout the city, the ostensibly penniless and dispossessed watched known Guild members, tracked their movements, and informed their spymasters. These senior beggars then worked together to piece disparate nuggets of information together into a meaningful whole. There was little happening within the city that escaped their attention.

Perched on the side of the cliff, at the furthest edge of the sprawl that was gathered around the docks, the warehouse was a two storey affair, designed to accommodate a growing business as well as serve as a repository for goods. The Hands were well aware of the layout of such warehouses, built to a specific design as it was under the direction of the Vos military when they rebuilt the city. Storage area on the ground floor, offices and living quarters above. However, they all expected the Guild to have modified the interior, even in the short time they had been present. No beggar though had managed to approach the building without being turned away.

It was a well positioned site, right at the edge of the city, providing an easy ingress for those wanting to avoid the main entrances. Grennar had told him they suspected that tunnels bored into the cliff led to caves at the base of the cliff face, making it a superb location for anyone wishing to engage in smuggling. A ship need only dock at the harbour and, during the hours of darkness, a small boat could be hauled over the side to deliver high value goods without incurring dock taxes.

Lucius had to admit, it was all very neatly done. Tapping his fingers on the roof of the warehouse on which he had taken position, he mentally urged his thieves to get into place. With the sentries gone they had limited time to launch their attack, as the failure of any sentry to report in would set the Guild on the highest alert. A guildhouse could easily be turned into a fortress, and Lucius had no wish for his thieves to cover dead ground while under fire from secret arrow nests. They had to attack while the Guild was blind to their approach.

There was also the problem of his Shadowmage talents to contend with, and this had occupied his mind greatly since Elaine’s silent warning to him. One way or another, he guessed the Hands would know the truth after this evening. Though he knew he had the support of some, there were still too many suspicious of those capable of using magic. Still, he could always look on the bright side – there was a good chance he would be killed tonight, saving him from any explanation.

A low whistle echoed off the walls of the warehouses close by, and Lucius scrambled across the roof to drop a rope off the side of the building. Swinging down, he was greeted by Ambrose and Elaine.

“They’re in position,” Elaine said quietly. Dressed all in black, she bore two short swords at her hips. She was rumoured to be one of the best blade fighters among the Hands.

“Ambrose, give the nod to the roof-hoppers. Tell everyone else to move on their signal.”

Nodding his understanding, Ambrose disappeared into the shadows. Lucius took a place at the corner of another warehouse, allowing him a clear view of the Guild’s headquarters. Elaine joined him, drawing a sword and rubbing its blade with a cloth. Gradually, its bright edge lost its lustre, dulled by a lotion concocted to eliminate any chance of light catching the weapon’s edge and giving away her position.

“You think this will work?” she whispered.

Lucius considered the question for a moment. “I would give us evens.”

“No better?”

He shrugged. “I am pretty sure the Guild has no idea exactly what to expect, but they must know we are coming for them. They will be alert, and traps will be waiting for us.”

They were silent for a time, with only the sound of the ocean crashing into the dock’s barriers breaking the stillness. Lucius saw thieves move across the skyline, skipping across the roofs of warehouses as they made their way to the guildhouse. When buildings were close together, they would leap across the gap. When the distance was too far to jump, short, stocky crossbows were employed to send a bolt across the chasm, pulling silken rope with it.

“You and I will be having words after this, Lucius,” Elaine said.

“I know,” he sighed.

“For what it is worth, I have few doubts about your loyalties to the Hands,” she said. “You started as an outsider but then, we all did. I know you now have friends among us.”

“For what
this
is worth, I count you among them,” he said, turning to face her briefly.

“But there are still too many unanswered questions,” Elaine said, as though she had not heard him.

He turned away from her, back to face the guildhouse. The thieves on the roofs were about to make their final crossing to the Guild’s lair. “You know I wield magic,” he said.

“Of course I do. And that is something you are going to have trouble reconciling with some of our members. I am not stupid, Lucius. You left the city soon after the invasion, and now return a spellslinger. I think I know what you are.”

“Then you know you have little to fear from what I do.”

“I also know that you have obligations to others. But, that aside, we also need to redress the balance of power within the Hands. We are an anarchic mess at the moment.”

“We need to rebuild the Council and appoint a new guildmaster,” Lucius said, understanding where Elaine was going.

“If we are successful tonight, there will be many who want you as guildmaster, magic or no,” she said.

He gave a low laugh. “I don’t want it. Truly, I don’t. Up until a few days ago, I was not even sure I would be staying here after this.”

“You now think you will?”

“These thieves are growing on me,” he said. “Look, I’ll make a deal with you, here and now. You support me against those who may have trouble accepting what I am. In return, I will do everything to convince the others you should be guildmaster.”

She was quiet for a moment. “You really don’t want it, do you?”

“That is not where my ambitions lie. You have the experience and knowledge. You also have the assassins in your hand, which should ease the conscience of any doubters to your claim. For my part, I would like a place on the Council – I feel I owe Magnus that much, and some of his more controversial decisions will need a champion. His deal with the beggars, say. That’s too important to let slide in any reorganisation.”

“I agree. Both to the beggars, and your terms.”

“Wendric should be your lieutenant.”

“I was thinking you might be more suitable, especially after tonight.”

“I told you, I really don’t want any of it. Besides, you don’t want to split the guild between myself and Wendric, and then let Nate through.”

“Then I think we have an understanding,” she said.

“We do. We also have the signal.”

Gathered on the roof of the guildhouse, a dull glow flashed twice as a thief caught the low radiance of Kerberos on a hand mirror. From warehouses and alleyways, more thieves detached themselves from the shadows and began the rush to the guildhouse, keeping low. Lucius and Elaine watched them for a moment, then darted forward to follow.

A flash erupted from the windows of the first floor of the guildhouse, quickly followed by a muffled blast. The rooftop thieves had pried open a skylight and thrown bundles of flash powder down into the offices. Cries and screams from inside split the evening air as the thieves followed their flash powder, blades drawn. The killing had begun.

The nimblest thieves had reached a side door and one of them jammed a crowbar into the frame, wrenching it hard. As the door flew open, Lucius saw something dark and heavy inside move with speed, and the thief had no time to scream as a large stone block swung down on chains to catch him square in the chest. The impact sent him sprawling several yards and he landed heavily on the street, completely motionless. More shouts came from the main entrance, where the heavy double doors had been forced open, the thieves there greeted by a hail of arrows and bolts, cutting down any not quick enough to dive out of sight. The assault was stalling before it really began and Lucius knew that if they did not gain entry quickly, those who had entered by the roof would be swiftly killed.

“Come on,” he shouted to Elaine. “We’ve got to get inside.”

She ran for the side door with the sprung stone block trap, seeing fighting had erupted at its threshold. The Hands could only enter one at a time, and he imagined several Guild members inside, easily overpowering anyone who made it through. Whenever the Hands backed off, they were chased by thrown blades. Already, four bodies lay in front of the door.

Lucius threw himself against the wall of the warehouse next to the door, and looked about for support as Elaine joined him. Another thief was on the opposite side of the door.

“There’s a dozen of the bastards inside,” the thief shouted across to him. “Bloody death-trap in there.”

Risking his neck, Lucius quickly poked his head round the corner, then hastily drew it back as an arrow thudded into the door frame, its metal head jutting through the wood just inches from his face. He shook his head in despair, having seen the defences inside; three armed men just inside to ward off any attacker, and an overturned table behind them, lined with archers and blade throwers.

“We can rush ’em, but the first of us inside will die,” the thief said, clearly not volunteering for the duty.

Lucius cast a quick look back at Elaine, who raised her eyebrows expectantly. He sighed.

“The hell with it,” he muttered, then shouted for the other thief’s attention. “You, get your men ready. You’ll follow me.”

Incredulous, the thief grinned, happy not to be the first in.

“Whatever happens, you follow me in, right?” Lucius reiterated.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Elaine said, and Lucius felt he could trust her at least to threaten and cajole the others into obeying.

“Right,” he said to himself, and half-closed his eyes to seek the threads amidst the chaos of the battle. They came to him, ready, almost desperate to be used. “Shut the door!” he said to the thief across from him, and the man swung the heavy wooden door shut.

Stepping out in front of the closed door, Lucius took in a deep breath, and summoned the air around him to his control. A breeze whipped around the clothes of the amazed thieves close by as he raised his fist, the air rolling into a tight twisting wind that followed his movements. Punching forward, he released the magic he had infused into the air, and it blasted forward to crash against the door. The structure had no chance.

The door, smashed by the force of a typhoon, burst from its hinges and was hurled inside, crashing into the table and those taking cover behind it.

Not hesitating, not waiting to see whether Elaine would succeed in forcing the thieves to follow, Lucius dove inside. The upturned table was before him, pinning several Guild thieves to the floor, while others lay on the floor, groaning as they nursed vicious looking wounds caused by the splintering door. He kicked at one who reached for a sword, then rushed forward.

Lucius was in the main storage area of the warehouse, littered with wooden crates, furniture and equipment, all recently transported from the original guildhouse. Much of it had been reformed into defensive posts, and he saw movement everywhere. To his left, stairs hugged the wall, leading up to the floor above, and they were lined with thieves armed with bows and crossbows. Almost immediately, a hail of fire was directed toward him and he rolled for the cover of a crate, missiles impacting on the floor around him.

Behind him, Lucius saw Elaine leading the other thieves in, and they quickly set about ending the lives of any who had survived Lucius’ entry until the arrow fire was redirected towards them. Two fell immediately, long shafts jutting from their bodies as they collapsed to the ground, and he heard Elaine order the others to take cover and prepare to charge their attackers on the stairs. Above the din of the battle, he heard cries and thuds from above, and knew the thieves who had entered by the roof were fighting for their lives.

On the other side of the warehouse, he saw more makeshift barricades in front of the main entrance, the doors now wide open to the evening air. Lanterns and torches had been positioned strategically throughout the building, casting their light around any entry, yet keeping the defenders shrouded in darkness. Every so often, a Hand would dare to peer round a corner to let loose a bolt or arrow, only to be driven back by a hail of return fire.