The Thieves of Blood: Blade of the Flame - Book 1 (30 page)

Though Yvka was petite, as was common for a female elf, the dwarven-sized tunic didn’t quite fit her. The result, a low neckline and a high hemline, looked most fetching, and despite the situation, Diran couldn’t help but think how attractive the woman was. He had to force his thoughts back to the matter at hand.

“Did you have any difficulty?” he asked.

“No, but it took me a while to encounter someone.” Instead of going around and knocking on doors, potentially waking the entire building, they’d opted to have Yvka simply “bump into” someone in the hall who was already awake. “I was on the first floor, near the entrance, when a gray-bearded dwarf came in. I said hello, and we made small-talk for several moments. He’s one of the cooks for the day shift, but he was working half the night to fill in for another cook who’s ill. I told him that I was looking for Tresslar because I had to pay him back some money he’d loaned me while we were playing cards a few days ago, but I didn’t know where his room was. He told me what I wanted to know, but he snickered the whole time. I think given the lateness of the hour, and seeing how I was dressed, the old lecher figured I was going to repay my debt to Tresslar in a somewhat different currency.”

Ghaji scowled at that but said nothing.

“As long as your ruse worked, that’s all that matters,” Diran said. “Do you think the cook was suspicious of you?”

Yvka shook her head. “I told him that I was new so he
wouldn’t question why he hadn’t seen me before. Since most of the staff, including the guards, only serve temporary tours of duty here, I would imagine it’s not uncommon for staff members to encounter someone they’ve never met before.”

“Good,” Diran said. “Now all we have to do is go talk to Tresslar.” He started for the door, but Yvka stopped her.

“Let me change back into my own clothes first. This tunic isn’t exactly designed for battle. One wrong move, and the outfit will probably tear right in two.”

“Really?” Hinto said, sounding as if he’d like to see Yvka give a demonstration right then.

“Whatever you’re imagining, stop it,” Ghaji said gruffly. “Now let’s turn around and give the lady some privacy while she changes.”

Yvka smiled. “Why Ghaji, who’d ever have guessed you were such a gentleman?”

“Don’t call me names,” he growled, though he didn’t sound displeased by the compliment. The three males then turned their backs, and Yvka quickly took off the tunic and put her own clothes on once more.

When she was finished, Diran said, “Let’s go.”

The four companions left the room, closing the door behind them. They headed down a stone hallway, and then down a flight of stairs to the ground floor. Yvka led them to the southwest corner, and they stopped before what Diran hoped was Tresslar’s door. Diran knocked, and when there was no answer, he knocked harder. They waited several moments, and just as Diran was about to knock for a third time, a muffled voice came from the other side.

“Who is it?” Tresslar’s voice.

As an assassin, Diran had been trained to imitate voices, and though he was no genius at it, he was a passable mimic. He pitched his voice low, in a fair imitation of a dwarf’s. “Gizur wants to see you. He’s made an alarming discovery about those two visitors you had today.”

Tresslar didn’t respond right away, and Diran began to think they would have to force their way in and risk waking everyone up. Then came the sound of a lock being disengaged. The door swung open and Tresslar poked his head out.

“Who—” The artificer’s question died away as Diran pressed to the tip of a dagger to his throat.

“Step backward slowly,” Diran said, “and be careful not to stumble. You wouldn’t want my hand to slip.” Diran had no intention of hurting Tresslar, but he couldn’t afford to let the artificer cry out for help.

Tresslar nodded, his eyes nearly crossing as he tried to look down at the blade being held to his throat. He did as Diran commanded, taking slow steps backward into the room. Diran followed, keeping the point of the dagger pressed to the artificer’s neck, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough so that the man couldn’t forget it was there.

As they backed into the room, the others followed, and when they were all inside, Yvka closed and locked the door. Tresslar’s room, while no larger than the one upstairs, had a human-sized bed, a desk and chair, and a small bookcase filled with volumes. A lantern on top of the desk lit the room with a soft orange glow. A book lay open on the desk, and the chair was pulled back and sitting at an angle. It appeared Tresslar had been doing some reading.

Tresslar frowned when he saw Yvka and Hinto. “Let me
guess. These are your apprentices.” The artificer’s joke was belied by the quaver of fear in his voice.

“As you’ve undoubtedly guessed by now, we aren’t scholars. I am Diran Bastiaan, priest of the Silver Flame, and the man carrying the axe is my companion, Ghaji. The others are Yvka and Hinto. We regret the necessity of invading your quarters like this, but we are on a rescue mission, and it’s vital that we discover where Erdis Cai makes his home port.”

Diran went on to give Tresslar a truncated version of the Black Fleet’s raid on Port Verge, along with their belief that Erdis Cai, now a vampire lord, was the one ultimately behind it. Diran kept the dagger against Tresslar’s throat the entire time he spoke, but when the priest was finished, he pulled the knife away and returned the blade to its sheath on his hip.

“Now that you know the truth,” Diran said, “will you help us?”

Tresslar stood there for a moment, moving his gaze back and forth between his four visitors. Finally, he walked over to the edge of his bed and sat down. He hunched over, hands clasped beneath his knees, and stared down at the floor.

“For forty years I’ve lived and worked on this island without once setting foot off it. I came here to hide … from
him
. I figured if there was anywhere in the world where I’d be safe, it would be within the walls of Dreadhold.” He looked up at them. “So the captain became a vampire, eh? And Onkar too. I’ve heard rumors about the Black Fleet, and I’d wondered if it might have some connection to Erdis. Now I know.”

“If you didn’t know what Cai had become, why did you feel the need to hide yourself from him?” Diran asked.

“I might not have known the captain’s exact fate, but I
knew the last time I saw him that if he survived his final quest he would become a creature of evil. I feared he would come in search of me because the captain didn’t take kindly to deserters. Not at all.

“I was a young man when I joined the crew of the
Seastar
. I was already a skilled artificer, but I was a callow youth with much to learn about the ways of the world, and Erdis …” Tresslar shook his head but fondness came into his tone. “Erdis was like something out of a folktale. Larger than life. Confident, daring, brave. He was everything I wanted to be. Erdis took me under his wing, and I became like his younger brother. The adventures we had … let me tell you, I’ve read most of the accounts of our voyages that have been penned since, and none of them come close to the reality. My time on the
Seastar
was wondrous beyond belief.”

“What happened? Ghaji asked. “How did someone like Erdis Cai become what he is now?”

“It was his appetite for adventure,” Tresslar said. “He’d done so much in his life that by the time he reached his forties, he’d become jaded. He began seeking out new and more dangerous challenges. He became rash and gambled with his life and the lives of his crew simply to stave off boredom for another day, but Erdis’s boredom wasn’t solely to blame. The Last War had been going on for nearly eighty years by that point, and while the
Seastar
never fought on behalf of any nation, we saw a fair bit of action. The senseless ravages of war began to wear on Erdis’s spirit, and he became disillusioned and filled with despair. No longer able to believe in the goodness of mortals or the presence of beneficent gods, he began searching for
anything
to believe in, and one day that search led him and the crew of the
Seastar
north to the frozen isle of Farlnen. Erdis had heard stories that a dark goddess lived there, and he was determined to find out if they were true.”

Diran knew what goddess Erdis Cai had found on Farlnen.

“Vol,” Diran whispered.

Tresslar nodded. “The closer we came to Farlnen, the more frightened I became. From some time I’d been concerned about the change that had come over Erdis, but whenever I tried to speak to him about it, he’d wave the matter aside. So many of the crew had perished during those last few months, and I began to fear this would be the final voyage for Erdis Cai and the
Seastar
. I decided I had to jump ship, but when I spoke to some of the other crew to see if they felt the same way, they hinted that I was talking mutiny. I rigged a longboat for myself, attached firestones to keep me warm, a lodestone compass, and bound a small water elemental to the stern for propulsion. Then one night I took some food and water, got in the boat, lowered it over the side, and watched the
Seastar
continue northward while I began slowly heading south. That was the last I saw of Erdis Cai.

“During the voyage back to the Principalities, I had time to think. I knew that if Erdis survived, he might come after me one day to punish me for deserting him, and that he might be … changed. I decided to come to Dreadhold and offer my services as an artificer. Luckily, the warden at the time took me on. I never told him or anyone else on Dreadhold about my time with Erdis. I honestly never expected to remain here for so long, but one year led to another, and now I’ve served on Dreadhold longer than anyone else. Forty years.”

Tresslar shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

Diran felt sorry for the man. What was it like to be so afraid of something that you would isolate yourself from the rest of the world—in effect, sentence yourself to exile—for four decades?

“Tell us where Erdis Cai is,” Diran said, “and I promise as a priest of the Silver Flame that I will slay him, and you will never again have to live in fear.”

Tresslar leaned back on his bed, palms on the mattress, arms held straight to prop himself up. He smiled in amusement. “While he was mortal, Erdis Cai was a legend. Now that he’s immortal, no one can stop him. If I tell you where he is—or at least, where I
think
he is—he’ll know who gave him away, and then he’ll seek me out for certain. That’s something I’d prefer to avoid, if it’s all the same to you.”

As Tresslar spoke, his left hand had inched closer to his pillow, and now he reached under it and pulled out a metal wand with a golden dragonhead on the tip. The dragon’s eyes were made from red rubies, and its teeth from glittering crystal.

“Now maybe you people are who you claim you are, and maybe you aren’t.” Tresslar’s gaze flicked back and forth between them, and a line of sweat beaded his forehead. “Either way, I can’t risk having Erdis find me, especially if he’s become—” Tresslar shuddered—“what you say he’s become. I’d prefer not to hurt any of you, but I will if I have to. If you’re sincere about rescuing those people from Erdis, then I wish you luck. I truly do. Now go, before you’re discovered. You don’t want to spend time with the master interrogators in the dungeons below Dreadhold, believe me, and that’s where they’ll take you if you’re captured.”

“We can’t leave,” Diran said, “not until we know where we can find Erdis Cai.”

He felt his frustration beginning to edge over into anger. Emon Gorsedd taught his students many ways to extract information from someone who was reluctant to talk. When Diran had made the decision to become a priest, he’d vowed never again to use such aspects of his training as an assassin, but he was sorely tempted to return to them now.

Ghaji took a step forward, hands raised to show he wasn’t holding any weapons. “Look, whatever that stick of yours does, why don’t you just put it down? We don’t want to hurt you, and you don’t want to hurt us, right?”

Ghaji took a second step forward, and Diran knew his friend was getting ready to make a grab for Tresslar’s wand, which Diran thought would be a terrible and quite possibly fatal mistake. Before Diran could intervene, Tresslar’s eyes widened in panic as he realized what Ghaji planned, and he aimed the dragonwand at the half-orc. Diran drew a dagger and threw it hilt-first at the artificer’s wrist. Tresslar managed to keep hold of the wand, but his hand was knocked to the side, spoiling his aim. A crackling bolt of miniature lightning blasted out of the dragon’s mouth, sizzled through the air past Ghaji, and struck the stone wall with a loud booming sound. The stone blackened where the lightning hit, and the room filled with the acrid smell of released ozone.

Diran knew he couldn’t give the artificer the chance to use his weapon again. The priest drew another dagger and hurled this one hilt-first toward the space between Tresslar’s eyes. The dagger hit, Tresslar let out a soft moan then fell back onto the bed, unconscious, but even though he was knocked out, the man still retained his grip on the dragonwand.

As Diran retrieved his two daggers, Ghaji said, “Thanks.”

Hinto had cringed when the lightning blast erupted, and now he lay on the floor, curled into a ball and shivering uncontrollably. Ghaji looked down at the terrified halfling and rolled his eyes. “Great. Now what do we do?”

“We take Tresslar and Hinto and get out of here before—” Diran was interrupted by a loud pounding on the door.
“That
happens.”

“Tresslar, what’s going on in there? Are you hurt? You’re not experimenting in your room again, are you?” Whoever it was tried to open the door but found it locked

Diran motioned for Yvka to unlock and open the shutters covering Tresslar’s window, and the elf-woman nodded and hurried to do so.

“Of
course
I’m fine!” Diran called out, imitating Tresslar’s voice, and more importantly, his perpetually irritated tone. “Just had a little mishap is all. Nothing someone of your limited intellect would understand.”

As Diran talked, Ghaji bent down to pick up Hinto, but the moment the half-orc touched the shivering sailor, the halfling let out a shriek of terror. In response, something slammed hard into the door, and a splintered crack appeared in the middle of the wood.