The Shadowmage Trilogy (Twilight of Kerberos: The Shadowmage Books) (55 page)

One way or another, the Vos Empire had a lot to answer for.

Lucius breathed a silent prayer to the souls of his family, more out of respect to their memory than any belief they would actually hear him. No, he would not make revenge his motive. But that did not mean he was not going to do everything in his power to make Vos’ position in his home city as difficult as possible. His own affairs would likely take care of any vengeance his family required in their graves.

Lucius felt a flicker at the edge of his senses, a silent ripple in the fabric of the world about him, and a wall of air slammed into his side, blasting him off his feet.

Hitting the ground hard, he gasped for breath while looking to see what had attacked him. He fixed upon the figure stalking down the street, its long hair tied up behind its head, dark eyes almost black under a frown.

As Adrianna stooped to grab him by the collar and yanked him to his feet, Lucius gaped.

“Aidy, what do you think you’re doing? Anyone could see us here.”

She threw him against the wall of his old home. The impact knocked the wind out of him again, and he could sense the magic fuelling Adrianna’s strength. Looking up at her, he saw she was maddened with rage, magic giving her fury form. He was in trouble.

She seized his collar and drove his head back against the wall.

“Did you feel it?” she hissed at him.

“What, Aidy?” he gasped, the pressure at his throat making breathing difficult. “Feel what?”

“Of course you didn’t. You have always been so far removed from us.”

Her knee drove into his stomach as she released him. Wheezing, he fell, and lay still as Adrianna ranted.

“He’s dead, Lucius!” she screamed, her voice hoarse. “Dead! While you were off playing thief, they
killed
him.”

Knowing he might regret it, Lucius climbed to his feet and, leaning on the wall for support, tried to face down her fury.

“Forbeck,” he said.

“They tracked him down, like he was no more than vermin. I warned him and I warned
you
...”

As she rounded on him, Lucius could feel the magic surge inside Adrianna, and he braced himself. Then she seemed to droop, her shoulders sagging, and the magic faded. He reached out to touch her, but her head snapped up to face him and he saw that while her magic had been tempered, her anger was still unchecked. The glare she gave him was full of loathing, and he suppressed a shudder.

“How did it happen?” he asked.

She looked down for a moment.

“I’m not sure. Probably the cabal, or maybe it was one of us, trying to make a deal with the Empire.”

He frowned. “Surely not.”

“This is what I have been trying to tell you, fool. We can’t trust anyone! Vos is tearing this city apart, and we must make a stand, or fall!”

“We must be cautious and take our time,” Lucius said. “The thieves are making some progress, and we have a few ideas on how to hurt the Empire. We are getting the beggars’ guild back on its feet too, and together–”

“Thieves?” she cried. “Beggars? Do you think they are the allies I seek? You are nothing more than a common criminal, Lucius, feckless, lazy, and utterly without spine.”

He ignored the insults. “I promise you Aidy, once we are back on our feet, I’ll make sure we give you all the support we can.”

“And I promise you, Lucius,” Adrianna said, her eyes burning, “I will not rest until every Vos-born man, woman and child in this entire city is dead, their corpses lying in the streets. I will drive out the Vos army and destroy this so-called cabal. I will make the slaughter in this city a monument that will burn across the entire world!”

She abruptly turned from him and stormed down the street. He briefly considered chasing after her, trying to reason with her, but he might as well try to placate the ocean. Adrianna was like a force of nature, and one could either stay out of her way or be crushed by her.

He just prayed that, when she struck, he would be in a position to limit the damage. He could not let her carry out her threat against innocent citizens of the city, wherever they were born.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“R
IDERS
!”

The cry went up on the thieves’ right flank, and they sought shelter in the rough ground, hiding behind boulders and within cracks in the rock.

“Everyone down,” Lucius called, though the order was unnecessary; many of the thieves were jittery out in the open countryside.

Along with Ambrose and Wendric, he led a force of nearly two dozen thieves, all that could be gathered from the remaining cells of the guild. They had kept Elaine out of the coming battle to ensure the guild’s future, but Lucius was painfully aware that his small army represented the vast majority of the guild’s strength, which was a far cry from what it had once been. He just hoped it would be enough for the task at hand.

Wendric crawled across to Lucius, keeping himself hidden as he moved, and joined him behind a large rock.

“Outriders,” he said. “Looks like Vos is on time.”

“Never thought they would be anything but,” Lucius said with a grin. “We can’t let the caravan get any warning of our presence. Ambrose’s archers ready?”

“Just give the word.”

Peering out from behind the rock, Lucius could see thieves littering the broken ground before him, all crouched behind cover. Ahead of his ragtag force, Lucius could see the horsemen, outriders of the silver train they were lying in wait for.

These Vos soldiers were trained to cover long distances around a moving army or convoy of wagons, acting as scouts and sentries. Though they sported wicked looking long spears, they carried food and survival gear in preference to heavy metal armour, relying only on leathers and pot helmets for protection. Perfect prey for snipers.

To one side, he saw Ambrose amidst his archers, looking to Lucius for the signal to attack. Lucius raised a hand in preparation as the outriders advanced.

“If any of them escape, our whole plan is ruined,” Wendric said under his breath.

“Ambrose knows what to do,” Lucius said.

The veteran thief had already taken action, and Lucius saw several thieves crawling away from the horsemen, flanking them. Picking their way slowly, to avoid twisting a hoof on the rough ground, the Vos soldiers drew closer in a rough line. Lucius dropped his hand.

At Ambrose’s sharp order a dozen arrows streaked from the thieves’ hiding places. One rider fell from his horse, while three others slumped in their saddles, arrows jutting from their chests and necks. More arrows struck the horses, and their shrieks panicked the others. Within seconds, the discipline of the Vos outriders had vanished as horses reared, slipped on the uneven ground and collapsed, taking their riders with them.

One rider possessed the presence of mind to arrest his frightened mount and, kicking hard as he turned it about, started to race away from the thieves, trusting in his luck and his god to ensure his horse kept its feet. As one, Ambrose’s flanking thieves rose from their hiding places and loosed another flight of arrows, the dark shafts tracing a shallow arc across the sky before falling around the fleeing soldier. Two missed and clattered among the stones, while another sank deep into the horse’s rump, causing it to stumble. The final arrow struck home in the centre of the soldier’s back, and he lurched to one side in his saddle, causing the horse to fall in a cloud of dust and kicking legs.

Lucius could hear men groan above the shriller cries of injured horses, and he waved his group forward to silence both. The men and women drew daggers and short swords, and went about their work with pitiless efficiency; within a few minutes, silence fell across the rocks.

The thieves edged closer to the coastal road and looked down onto the well-used track about eight yards below the escarpment on which they had hidden themselves. Beyond the track was a little vegetation, then a sheer drop as a cliff descended to the crashing ocean far below.

Lucius had remembered this place from a mercenary job he had taken years ago, when he had escorted a merchant’s wagon through what had then been bandit territory. With the constant traffic to and from Vos, the bandits had long since gone, but every thief present hoped to teach the Empire that their roads were no longer safe. If what Lucius had told them was true, doing so would prove to be highly profitable.

They did not have long to wait. A low whistle from Ambrose, higher up the escarpment, caught their attention.

“Here we go,” Wendric said, checking the tension on his bowstring. Satisfied, he laid his quiver on the ground and drew an arrow. Some other thieves had done the same, while others had removed all of their arrows and driven their tips into the ground. All had their eyes fixed firmly north, waiting for the appearance of more Vos soldiers.

“Here they come,” Wendric muttered, sighting his first target.

Lucius looked down the coastal road and smiled.

“This is going to be perfect,” he said.

The silver train moved slowly, taking several minutes to come into view. Three more outriders led the column in front of two covered wagons, which Lucius guessed carried more soldiers as well as supplies for the entire convoy. Trailing at the rear was a similar wagon and three more outriders. However, it was the magnificent wagon in the centre of the formation that had all the thieves’ attention.

Drawn by six huge draught horses, it towered over the wagons before and behind it. Large metal sheets were hammered onto its sides, each punctuated with a single arrow slit, betraying the crossbow-wielding soldiers inside. On top of the wagon, Lucius could see half a dozen more soldiers sheltering behind crenellated walls, again armed with crossbows.

It was a moving fortress, apparently impregnable.

“That thing is built to wage war,” Wendric said.

“It is more for show than practical use,” Lucius said. “It would not do much good in a battle. It’s too slow. Although it will no doubt cause us some problems.”

“Our arrows are just going to bounce off it.”

“The horses are still its weakness. Stick to the plan. Once we immobilise it and take care of the rest of the train, it will seem a little less fearsome.”

With aching slowness, the convoy began to file past below them. The thieves kept their heads down; only Ambrose kept watch, using his jerriscope to see over the lip of the escarpment.

The minutes dragged by, and Lucius grew impatient, looking to Ambrose for the signal to attack and resisting the urge to crawl forward and look over the escarpment himself.

At last, Ambrose waved a hand, then raised himself to a kneeling position, exchanging his jerriscope for his short bow. The other thieves followed him.

Lucius stood up from behind the escarpment. The lead wagon was right below his position, and the outriders had already moved past, presenting their backs to the thieves. The men closest to Lucius, led by Wendric, all aimed at the target that had been assigned to them – the horses of the lead wagon.

Arrows lanced down on their marks. The horses were soon bristling with shafts, and began to panic. The wagon driver, caught completely unawares, lost the reins as the horses tried to bolt. One fell motionless to the ground, two shafts sprouting from its head and neck.

Another volley of arrows cut the driver down and disabled the other horses. Dead or wounded, they were no longer a concern, and Lucius directed the thieves’ fire to the horses of the second wagon.

Further down the caravan, Ambrose’s thieves had attacked the trailing wagon, and already two of the horses were immobile. Lucius smiled grimly. So far, the plan was working. The driver of the huge war wagon looked about desperately, caught between his desire to hide and his duty to drive the wagon clear of the ambush. He chose the latter, but the six-horse wagon was not an agile vehicle in the best of conditions, and the thin track ahead of him, winding between the high escarpment and the sheer cliffs, was filled with crippled wagons and screaming horses. There was nowhere for him to go.

An angry shout caught Lucius’ attention, and he turned to see the leading outriders gesturing futilely up at him. They were looking for a route up on to the escarpment in order to bring the ambushers to battle, but the closest slope upwards was some way north, and their long spears were designed for charging, not for throwing.