The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books) (53 page)

Lucius looked at him sadly. “This is not the thieves’ war. The Empire is far stronger now than it has ever been, and our guild has not just been damaged, it has been smashed.”

“Then we go slower,” Wendric insisted. “We use only those we trust, we pick our targets carefully. Forget the lower ranks, aim for those who really matter. The commander of the Citadel has been keeping his head low. He’s never revealed himself, and with good reason. We find out who he is, where he is skulking, then finish him off! The Preacher Divine too, while we are at it.”

“The commander of the Citadel?” Ambrose asked. “You are suggesting a target whose name and face we do not even know?”

“He’s right,” said Lucius. “We no longer have the resources to gain that information easily–”

“I never said it would be easy,” Wendric cut in, exasperated. “However, we can–”

This time, it was Lucius’ turn to interrupt. “It’s too dangerous, Wendric! It risks the entire leadership of the guild, and for what?”

“For what? For the blood of our fallen comrades, Lucius. As a sign that the guild is still here. As a rallying call for all those thieves that think we are dead and buried, and have started to drift away.”

“No.” Elaine spoke quietly, but her voice still overrode Wendric’s. “Revenge, however much desired, is not the way forward.”

Wendric bowed his head to stare at the floor, clearly frustrated.

“Is that becoming a problem?” Lucius asked. “Are they starting to leave the guild?”

“It is quite natural,” Ambrose said. “Without the guild around to support them, give them jobs and protection, most will drift off sooner or later and become independents.”

Lucius’ look of dismay made Ambrose chuckle. “They
are
thieves, Lucius. At the end of the day we deal with people who lie, cheat and steal for a living. You and I may be loyal, but we have a great deal invested in the guild and its members.”

“Is that why Nate is not here?” Lucius asked. “Has he gone?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” said Ambrose.

“Bugger Nate,” Wendric said. “If he’s gone independent we’re best rid of him anyway.”

“And if he sets up a rival guild?” Lucius asked.

Elaine shook her head. “He doesn’t have the pulling power to bring enough thieves in to make a serious challenge. He may try but, trust me, it will be the least of our problems.” She changed the subject. “How have your senior thieves done with re-establishing the franchises?”

“They haven’t,” Wendric said. “Things are just too tight right now, the Empire has made it impossible for us to operate. We can’t intimidate a merchant when he knows a shout to the guard will bring an entire squad running, and the streets are so heavily patrolled they might as well be barracks.”

“And I won’t risk my kids in the markets or the square,” Ambrose said. “They have watchers in the towers of both the Citadel and the Cathedral, signalling to guards on the ground as soon as they so much as sniff a thief working the crowd.”

No one said anything after that, and an oppressive silence fell upon all four thieves. Lucius could feel the morale sapping out of the others, and he wondered whether this would be the last meeting of the Council. It was Ambrose who finally broke the quiet, with a short laugh that he quickly suppressed with his hand.

“What’s so funny, Ambrose?” Elaine asked him.

“It’s nothing really. It just occurred to me that this was how the guild first started. A small group of thieves, sitting around, wondering how they could make more money and make it without getting caught.”

It took a few seconds, but Wendric finally began to smile at that thought, and then Elaine joined him.

“That’s it,” she said.

“We operate as if we are starting from scratch. Forget the franchises, at least the larger and more elaborate ones, stay away from the organised stuff. We just offer support for thieves interested in the wider picture.”

“Even if it just starts with us and a few we trust,” Wendric said.

“Right. Random burglaries, pickpocketing, that kind of thing. We organise the fences, create safe houses for thieves on the run, the basic functions any guild should provide. Keep things compartmentalised with the existing cells, but gradually bring things closer together as we start to gain pace.”

Lucius began to smile too. “It could just work. It will be tough, but it could work.”

“It needn’t be that tough,” Elaine said. “After all, we still have at least some of the resources and contacts of the old guild to fall back on, plus the knowledge and experience of the best thieves in the city.”

“Well,” Ambrose said, “count me in. What do you want from us, Elaine?”

“You were right about the markets and the square. So gather your kids, just a couple of teams made from the best, and start running pockets in the streets – Street of Dogs, Lantern Street, the places where there is healthy commerce and plenty of alleys to lose yourselves in. With practice, the kids will be able to alert you to a patrol before it gets within half a mile.”

Lucius found himself enthused with the challenge. Building a new guild from scratch took imagination and experience, and while the grander plans were discounted or at least sidelined, they quickly had a framework of operations that could be enacted by a small number of thieves.

When Elaine finally called an end to the meeting, she caught Lucius’ attention and bade him stay in the room with her for a moment longer.

Making sure that the door was firmly closed, Lucius turned to face her and, for a moment, they were both silent.

“I miss you,” he said.

She smiled and crossed the few paces between them to embrace him. Resting her head on his shoulder, Elaine held him tight.

“You know I feel the same,” she said. “But you also know what I have to do right now. I... I’m not saying the guild is more important...”

“I understand, Elaine, I really do. Whether the guild is more important or not isn’t the issue. It is more important
right now
, and I do understand that.”

“I do believe we can rebuild the guild,” she said, moving away. “But it will be a lot harder than I let on to the others. I think they know that.”

“They’ll stand with you, whatever happens.”

“Which is why they deserve my full attention. If that means I am less attentive elsewhere...”

“Really, Elaine, as I said, I understand. I know how hard this is for you. But we’ll do this. We’ll succeed. Whatever happens thereafter... we’ll deal with it then.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I need you to do a couple of things for me.”

“Name them.”

“First, find Grennar or Sebastian. We need to get the beggars up and running again. They can do the same thing we are, start from scratch.” She gave a short laugh. “I have a feeling they will find success quicker than we do.”

“Consider it done. What else?”

“I never really understood what your other friends were and how they work. You have powers... well, I don’t begin to understand them, and I don’t know whether your other friends would be willing. But we could use any help they can bring.”

Lucius grimaced, thinking immediately of Adrianna. He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. Instead, he said, “It’s possible... but unlikely. I’ll do my best, but such help... well, it may come with a high price.”

“I’ll trust your judgement in the matter,” Elaine said.

He nodded, aware she was placing no small measure of responsibility on his shoulders. Before he left, he cast one last, long look at her. He admired her, standing tall, though her guild was in pieces, arms defiantly crossed over her chest, a determined look on her face. He felt a longing in his heart, a need to sweep her up in his arms, to reassure her that they would come through this, that he could protect her from any who would dare harm her. He realised then that he cared for Elaine a great deal, and that she would forever have his support.

But he did not truly love her.

F
ORBECK STOOD JUST
inches from the edge of the cliff, the harbour of Turnitia far below him. He could see the cranes and lifts that littered the cliff side, though they rested silent from their labours of hauling goods up from and down to the docks. There were no ships currently in the harbour to service.

Beyond the docks and piers, the water was calmed by the immense monolithic blocks that towered at the harbour’s edge, almost as high as the cliffs on which he stood. Their method of construction was a mystery even to the greatest wizards of Vos and Pontaine, though it was generally agreed that the monoliths were ancient Old Race constructions. Together, they formed a complicated pattern that stood as a bulwark against the permanently raging ocean that lay just beyond.

On the cliffs, Forbeck could hear the perpetual storm that broke incessantly against the barrier, expending its energy in a fruitless effort to reach the harbour. For a thousand years, probably more, Forbeck reflected, these monoliths had stood against the sea, and they would likely be around for millennia more.

Forbeck ambled along the cliff’s edge, lost in thoughts of old races, deep magics, and the formation of the world and universe. Here, right at the edge of land, where civilisation met the crashing torrent of endless waves, Forbeck loved to think, to plan, to theorise. Quite apart from his vocation as a Shadowmage, it was why he had first settled in Turnitia, a city ostensibly free and independent in deed as well as thought.

That had changed somewhat with the coming of the Vos Empire.

This was not the first time Vos had been heavy-handed toward the city, and he doubted it would be the last. The Shadowmages had suffered in the past, but they were wiser now. At some point, Vos would overreach itself, and that would be the time to move.

Forbeck slowed his pace as he approached a group of warehouses and frowned. Vos soldiers stood around the buildings, perhaps seeking to catch another thief.

Not wanting to be stopped and questioned, Forbeck turned and limped towards the city proper, faintly annoyed that his reverie had been disturbed. He picked up the barely cobbled path of Cliffside Way, ignoring the unwholesome odours that emanated from some of the terraced houses.

Another patrol turned a corner ahead of him, and started marching down the street. Thinking their presence and manner a little too coincidental, Forbeck turned abruptly and headed down one of the many alleys that ran between the terraced blocks. Behind him, he heard the unmistakable thuds of armoured men picking up their pace.

Once within the alley, Forbeck stopped and stood with his back flat against the stone wall. Within a single breath he had gathered the shadows about him. As the soldiers turned into the alley, he gave them a scornful look while they searched for him, his magically enhanced stealth rendering him invisible. After a few seconds, their sergeant ordered them forward, guessing their fugitive had run down the alley and was now in another street.

Forbeck allowed himself a quick smirk before he released the shadows about him and continued on his journey.

As soon as he stepped out of the alley, he sensed something was wrong.

Forbeck saw a cowled figure detach itself from the shadows of a rundown block of houses. He saw a flash of fine silks under heavy cloth, as well as a glimpse of a blade. Above all, he felt a surge of arcane power, just hovering at the edge of his attuned senses.

Deciding this was an encounter best avoided, Forbeck turned to head back down the alley, but saw another cloaked figure slowly walking towards him from the other end. This one had the suggestion of a woman in the way it carried itself and, again, he felt a surge of magical energy as it approached. When others arrived, seven in total, all wreathed in the same pale cloaks, Forbeck understood.

“So,” he said. “You are here.”

There was no reply as the figures closed in. As they approached, each figure raised their hands, and Forbeck felt a wave of power roll towards him. Leaning on his cane, he braced himself, but was still forced to take a step backwards. He felt the power build up within the cabal again, and he realised that they were not casting a spell as such, merely finding links between them that they could use to focus and magnify one another’s energy.

“Fascinating,” Forbeck said.

He closed his eyes briefly, calling upon his own magical reserves, then brought his cane down with a sharp rap. Fire erupted where he stood and radiated away from him at great speed, incinerating weeds and discarded parchment in its path. The cabal stopped, now standing just a few yards away. He felt a wave of power pulse from them once again, and watched it just roll over his flames, snuffing them out instantly.

Not even slowed down by his magic, the invisible wave of energy continued toward Forbeck and slammed into him with devastating force. He dropped to his knees. The pain, concentrated right into the centre of his mind, was nearly overwhelming.

Gritting his teeth, Forbeck slowly raised himself back to his feet. Looking up at the faceless figures of the cabal, he dimly began to formulate a plan. He doubted any one of them could best him in a duel, but somehow they had developed the ability to fuse their talents together, making them far more powerful than any one mage. However, every chain has a weak link...