The Thieves of Blood: Blade of the Flame - Book 1 (7 page)

“Before you do that, priest, take a look at the cart.”

Diran, Ghaji, and Yvka looked at the bodies of the men and women who remained in the back of the cart. They were covered by a squirming, writhing blanket of rats, as were the victims lying on the ground.

“My little friends are just crawling right now,” Onkar said, “but if you make even the slightest move against me, I’ll tell
them to start biting. Do you know how long it’d take that many rats to strip the flesh off their bones?”

Diran glared at the vampire commander, silvery light waxing and waning in his palm, as if it couldn’t decide whether or not to be born. Finally, Diran closed his fist around the silvery spark and snuffed it out.

“Not long,” the priest admitted and lowered his hand to his side.

“That’s right,” Onkar said. “Don’t any of you try to follow me. My furry friends will keep watching you long after I’m gone.” The raider commander inclined his head in a mocking manner. “A good night to you all.”

The vampire turned, and with an unconscious Makala still slung over his shoulder, he began walking away. Though Onkar didn’t appear to be hurrying, he moved far more swiftly down the street than he should have, and then the vampire turned a corner and was lost to the night.

Ghaji turned to Diran, intending to ask his friend what they should do next, but the priest was staring intently at the mound of vermin crawling over the unconscious men and women who remained in the cart. The rats seemed to stare back at Diran with their beady black eyes, and Ghaji wondered if the creatures truly would still bite now that the vampire had departed or if Onkar had been lying to them, in which case they were letting him get away for nothing.

“The rats are under evil’s influence, though they are but pawns,” Diran said. “The situation has some distinct parallels to possession, though it isn’t precisely analogous. Even so …”

Diran raised his hand and this time the Silver Flame instantly blossomed forth from his palm. The power of the Silver
Flame blazed outward, casting its bright blue-white light onto the squirming pile of rodents. The rats screeched, squealed and began scuttling frantically over the raiders’ unconscious captives. At first Ghaji feared Diran’s ploy hadn’t worked and the vermin were even now beginning to gnaw hunks of flesh from their victims’ bodies, then the rats’ exertions began to lessen until finally the small beasts stopped moving altogether and became calm.

Diran closed his hand into a fist and the silvery flame went out. A moment passed, then one by one the rats began jumping down from the cart and fleeing toward whatever shadows they could find. When the last rat was gone, Diran ran forward to examine the people remaining in the cart.

“It worked,” he said with obvious relief. “Now for Makala!”

The priest took off running in the direction Onkar had taken, Yvka following. Ghaji paused only to retrieve his axe and then hurried to catch up.

Diran was standing at the end of the dock when the others got there. The priest was covered with sweat and breathing hard as he stared out to sea, shoulders slumped in defeat. The Black Fleet had set sail, the ships visible only as a trio of shadowy shapes melding with the darkness as they drew away from Port Verge.

They were too late.

Of the Diresharks there was no sign. If the Sharks didn’t get on the water soon, they’d never be able to track the raiders. Makala, and everyone else who had been taken, would be lost forever.

“The question before us now is how best to give chase,” Diran said. “Do we charter a ship, and if so, with what funds?”

“Maybe we could wrangle a berth aboard one of the Diresharks’ vessels,” Ghaji said. “They’re bound to set sail in pursuit of the Black Fleet, and they might want to have a priest of the Silver Flame along with them when they finally catch up to the raiders, especially once they learn that a vampire commands the raiders.”

“Perhaps,” Diran said, “but there’s a good chance Kolberkon will prefer to send a priest of his acquaintance along. He’s bound to be distrustful of strangers after tonight’s raid, so it would take some effort to convince him.”

“I have a ship,” Yvka interrupted.

Both Diran and Ghaji turned to look at her.

“She’s not that large,” the elf-woman said, “but she’s fast.”

“Fast is good,” Ghaji said.

Waves crashed against the rocks, sending sprays of seawater into the air. The footing was treacherous, and it didn’t help that they were laden down with full traveler’s packs. Ghaji had already fallen a couple of times, once cutting his forearm on a sharp outcropping so badly they’d been forced to pause for Diran to heal the wound. The half-orc was soaked from head to toe, and the wind coming off the Lhazaar Sea made him shiver. Both Diran and Yvka were equally as wet, and presumably equally as miserable, but neither of them showed it. The elf-woman picked her way carefully over the slippery rocks, moving with a steady confidence as if she wasn’t concerned about the possibility of
falling. Diran followed right behind her, and though as a human he couldn’t match the elven grace with which Yvka moved, he too seemed confident, as if he scampered over wet jagged rocks every day.

Diran carried his blow slung over his shoulder, and his quiver of arrows nestled next to his traveler’s pack. Given Diran’s almost complete lack of proficiency with the weapon, Ghaji wouldn’t have been concerned if Diran had chosen to leave the bow behind. He’d almost suggested as much to Diran before they left town, but the priest was determined to master the weapon favored by his order, and Ghaji knew he wouldn’t listen.

Before long, Ghaji was breathing hard, and he wanted to ask Diran and Yvka to slow down a bit. After all, he’d been born and raised in the Shadow Marches, not the Lhazaar Principalities, and he couldn’t scuttle over wet shoreline like some sort of giant crab. He was too proud to say anything, so he continued struggling along behind Diran, trying his best not to fall and hurt himself again, inwardly cursing the day he’d decided to give up his job as guard for a house of pleasure and accompany Diran on his journeys.

They traveled along a portion of the shore to the east of Port Verge. Here the ground was rocky and uneven, as the smooth sandy beaches of the town gradually gave way to the stony cliffs that dominated the far eastern side of the island. Ghaji had no idea how long they’d been negotiating the irritating terrain, but it was still night, though much closer to sunrise than it had been when they’d stood on the docks watching the Black Fleet disappear into the distance.

In between puffs of breath, Ghaji said, “Tell me again why … you keep your boat … hidden in a cave instead … of tied
to the dock like any … sane and rational being would?”

Yvka called back over her shoulder. “My vessel is valuable, and I have no wish to tempt thieves by leaving her at the town docks.”

“Nothing personal, but how … valuable can she be?” Ghaji’s right foot slipped and plunged into a small tidal pool. Cursing, he extracted his foot and kept going. “From what I understand, juggling, while amusing enough, isn’t exactly a profession that makes one rich.”

“The craft is a gift,” Yvka replied. “More of a loan, actually, which is an additional reason I’m so concerned about protecting her.”

Ghaji ground his teeth in frustration. Diran had an exasperating tendency to, as the Lhazaarites put it, dive in head-first without bothering to check how deep the water was. Ghaji usually followed, despite his better judgment. He wasn’t at all certain that they should trust Yvka. She was obviously hiding something. It was clear enough to Ghaji that the elf-woman wasn’t a simple traveling entertainer, but what exactly she was he didn’t know. Ghaji
hated
not knowing. It was more difficult to fight something—or someone—if you didn’t understand your foe. Lack of knowledge had probably killed more men and women in the history of Eberron than all the swords that had ever been forged. Ghaji decided he’d simply have to keep a sharp eye on Yvka and watch for any hint of betrayal.

“Not much farther now,” Yvka said.

Yvka continued to lead them along the shore until they reached a small cove. It was so small, in fact, that Ghaji didn’t see how the elf-woman had managed to steer a ship between the outcroppings of rock without running aground. Yvka’d said her
craft was small, but Ghaji figured she couldn’t be any larger a common lifeboat. While she might be large enough to carry the three of them, Ghaji couldn’t see how she could possibly be swift enough to catch up to the elemental galleons of the Black Fleet.

Yvka led them to the mouth of a cave that opened onto the sea. The elf-woman paused at the entrance to reach down and pick up a metal lantern lying just inside the cave. Yvka lifted the lantern’s hood then and a warm yellow glow shone forth. Since she hadn’t lit it by hand or uttered a spell, Ghaji assumed it was an everbright lantern.

Yvka turned to them and said, “She’s here.”

Ghaji peered into the cave. The light from Yvka’s lantern did little to dispel the darkness within. If the elf-woman intended to spring some sort of trap on them, this would be the perfect place to do so.

“You hesitate,” Yvka said. “What’s wrong, don’t you trust me?”

Ghaji was about to answer when Diran responded.

“Trust must be earned, and we haven’t known you long enough to trust you. Besides, the only person I trust completely in this world is the man standing beside me.”

Ghaji nodded his thanks to Diran without taking his eyes off Yvka.

The elf-woman didn’t seem put out in the slightest by Diran’s comment. “Very well. I’ll go first.” She turned and walked into the cave.

Diran and Ghaji exchanged looks, then the half-orc stepped forward, the priest following close behind.

The cave was larger inside than Ghaji expected. The walls and ceiling were rough and uneven, but they displayed
unmistakable signs of having been carved by hand. This was no natural cave. A narrow walkway ran around the walls, providing just enough room for two people, and thin ones, at that, to walk shoulder to shoulder. In the middle of the cave was a pool of water and there, tethered by a rope tied to an iron ring set into the walkway, was Yvka’s vessel.

Ghaji hadn’t known what to expect, but this certainly wasn’t it. The craft was larger than he’d anticipated, about the size of a sailboat, though narrower and sleeker, her bow tapering to a point almost like the tip of an arrow. A slim mast rose from the center of the sloop, the sail furled and tied down. Behind the mast was a small cabin barely large enough to accommodate a single crewperson, let alone three, especially if one of those three was a tall, broad, and slightly thick about the middle half-orc. The sloop rode several feet above water, resting atop a pair of runners that protruded from the bottom of her hull. A wooden column rose from the stern of the vessel, a thin metal ring bolted to its top.

“She’s an elemental sloop,” Diran said in wonder.

Yvka shone the lantern’s light on the craft so they could get a better look at her.

“Zephyr’s
something, isn’t she?” the elf-woman said. “She was built by an artificer to carry supplies during the Last War. She was designed for speed in order to outrun and outmaneuver other ships, and her size allowed her to navigate past naval blockades.”

“She’s built from soarwood, isn’t she?” Diran asked.

Yvka nodded. “It possesses magical buoyancy.”

“Soarwood is quite rare indeed,” Diran said. “Do you mind my asking how you came by such a singular craft?”

“I don’t mind you asking at all,” Yvka said with a smile, “provided you don’t mind my not answering.”

Ghaji frowned. “What sort of supplies could you transport with so small a vessel?”

“Dragonshards, of course,” Diran said.

Yvka nodded. “Though since the war ended, she’s served a different purpose.”

“Which is?” Ghaji asked.

Yvka smiled again, and this time her eyes held a mischievous twinkle. “To take me wherever I wish to go.”

Ghaji hated Yvka’s evasiveness, but as maddening as the twinkle in her eyes was, it only served to accentuate her elven beauty. At least now he understood how she’d managed to navigate the treacherous waters of the cove. Her elemental sloop was doubtless far more maneuverable than any ordinary craft.