The List Unseen, page 12
part #4 of Second Draeken War Series
—A rough arm encircled her, dragging her back as another tried to gag her. She cried out to Mazer and he spun to face her, sweeping his blade in an arc that drove his opponents back. Naked fury flashed across his face, but there were too many around him. He growled, and then grinned.
"You have no idea who you have grabbed, do you?" His ringing challenge caused the men holding Ianna to falter, but she knew the words were meant for her.
It was a reminder of who she was.
Fury flooded her veins, scorching her fear with its intensity. Yanking the heat out of the environment she sent fire rippling across her arms. Light illuminated the road as the men yelped in pain, letting go of her in an instant.
Whirling to face them, Ianna sent the fire into their faces. The flames exploded across their bodies and launched them backwards. As they tumbled away, Ianna spun to face the leader with gauntlets of fire pulsing across her fists.
For an instant everyone froze. Then they scattered. The last to leave was the leader and the weasel, both nursing burns. She glared at where they had departed, her rage not quite satiated. The surge of emotion and power both thrilled and frightened her. Gradually it began to ebb, until she sank to her knees, the fire gone.
Mazer was already at her side. "Are you injured?"
Her gaze was drawn to the still forms. Seeing the direction of her look, he said quietly. "It is never easy to take a life, but the first is the hardest. Just remember that they attacked you, and gave up their right to life in doing so."
She swallowed and nodded, feeling guilty about something else. "I am sorry I didn't see them coming."
"Even an oracle can't see everything," he replied, kissing her forehead.
That's what I am afraid of, she thought, but left her fears unvoiced. "Let's go, before they return to collect what they left."
Drawing her to her feet, Mazer led the way down the road, leaving the dead behind.
Chapter 15: The Bounty
For two days they traveled on foot until they found a village that was willing to sell a pair of horses. Turning their path north, they skirted the main roads that led to Terros and stuck to the less traveled paths. They passed through forest and field as they rode towards their next task.
With summer in full swing the journey was hot, but interspersed with occasional rains that cooled the air. Taking shelter beneath the pine boughs, they weathered the storms and pressed on in the lingering mist. After two weeks of hard riding they reached the northern forts of Griffin.
Built to prevent trolls, gnomes, and others from invading the kingdom, the handful of castles were little more than a keep and a moat. Almost identical in construction, each was located in the center of a pass and abutted a wall that spanned the gap. Manning the battlements day and night, the soldiers were well trained and guarded the passes with discipline.
A pair of villages provided for the fort’s other needs. Splitting the distance between them, the cities had come to be known as East and West. Everything from the soldier's families, to taverns and inns had swelled the villages far beyond their original intention. The result had become a sprawling disorganized assortment of winding streets and leaning buildings. Entertainers and other enticements clogged the main roads, seeking to part the off-duty soldiers with their earnings.
Riding through the dirty streets on the outskirts of West, Ianna and Mazer steered clear of the soldiers and the crowds. After several days on the road they desperately needed to restock their supplies. Selecting the most obscure inn that bore a semblance of cleanliness, they paid for their room and collapsed into the two beds.
Ianna awoke stiff and sore. Rising with a groan she eyed Mazer, who was still snoring in the other bed. A soft smile split her features as she gazed at him, and she felt the urge to laugh at herself.
Had the last few weeks really happened? It seemed surreal that she'd fled her home, infiltrated Talinor, penetrated the ruins of Verisith, and was about to escape Griffin by sneaking past an entire battalion of experienced soldiers. It made her feel oddly akin to Alydian. From what she'd learned from her ancestor, the oracles from that time had not been confined as Ianna had been. It was only after the Eldress council was slain that things had changed. After that the remaining guilds had been fearful of losing the last oracle.
She sighed, wondering what it would have been like to travel at will, to serve the people in their own homes and villages. It brought a smile to her lips as she imagined the sensation of unbridled freedom. The thought drew her eyes to the cloak and cowl that hung near the door. It rankled to be forced to hide her heritage, but she could not deny Mazer's logic.
Her grunt of frustration woke Mazer. Just as she had, he arose with a groan. Rubbing his neck he stretched until he spotted her eyes on him.
Startled, he said, "Is it just me or are these beds lacking padding."
"At least they're clean," she replied.
He growled but began to pull on his boots. "We'd better get going. I want to be out before the city’s soldiers from last night recover from their drink."
"Why?" she asked, mirroring his movements.
His expression darkened. "Last time I was here the men woke up surly and itching for trouble. I spent a week behind bars because of a misunderstanding. I don't want to find out what would happen if they discovered you."
"When was that?" she asked, hastening her movements.
"Twelve years ago," he said, cocking his head to the side as he finished lacing his boots. "We were just about finished with the rakion sword but needed some advice on the last layers. The other smiths and I came to speak to a renowned blacksmith of the region. Although there are a number of dwarven craftsmen in these cities, Thendor is the best.
"Why does he reside here?" she asked. Rising to her feet she donned her cloak.
He laughed as he reached for the door. "He took a liking to human drink and never came back to Torridin."
She grinned, recalling an ancient dwarven saying. "No Dwarf can be enslaved . . ."
"Except to his mug." His grin matched hers. Then he halted in the open doorway. His expression turning serious, he lowered his voice. "You should avoid using magic. The folks around her can be a superstitious lot and won't take kindly to an elf mage in their midst. It would also be like a beacon to anybody looking for us."
Her lips thinned at the prospect of hiding another piece of herself, causing him to smile and add, "We'll be out of the city by nightfall, I promise." Planting a solid kiss on her lips, he withdrew and motioned for her to lift the cowl.
Her frustration tempered by his display of affection, she raised the cowl and fell into step behind him. Descending to the tavern floor, she found a seat in a corner and waited for Mazer to retrieve their morning meal. It was while Mazer was at the counter that she overheard the men at a nearby table. In an effort to be polite, she tried not to listen.
Then they mentioned her.
Heat climbed into her skin as she tuned in. Although she couldn't see them, that didn't stop her breath from accelerating as she understood the import of their conversation.
" . . . was last spotted a week's ride east of Terros," a gruff voice rumbled.
"But that doesn't mean the Oracle is coming here," a reedy man replied.
There was a clatter as a mug struck the tabletop. "What kind of a fool are you? She fled from her home in Orláknia—and then came north into Griffin. Unless she finds a boat on the lake or travels east into the wilds, she has to come through here."
"But why?" the other man replied, his voice whiny. "She could just return south."
There was a gruff grunt of laughter. "Word is she is being pursued—by an elven Seeker no less. I'm sure you've heard of the Hunter. Even you would know better than to backtrack towards the likes of him."
"What about the reward? You said there was a reward."
"Aye," the gruff voice answered, and it sounded like he was licking his lips. "Five-hundred gold coins," he said in an undertone. "If she is unharmed."
There was a squeak in surprise. "The Hunter offered that much for her?"
"It’s two years worth of wages," he replied, his tone becoming annoyed. "I doubt even an elven Seeker has that." There was a creak as he leaned in. "No, the reward comes from the pointy-eared archmage himself."
There was a low whistle. "So we just have to hold her until someone picks her up?"
"We get half if she's dead." The announcement nearly stopped Ianna's heart.
"So a knife in the back?" the reedy voice was tinged with anticipation. "That would be a far cry easier than capturing an elf mage."
"If we can," the gruff voice growled. "The streets have been buzzing with the bounty all night. Men are already combing the nearby countryside like there is gold hidden under every leaf. You should have gotten out of your shift when I sent you the message."
"Let's get going then," the whiny voice replied, his eagerness ignoring the other man's annoyance.
There was a grunt of agreement, followed by the clatter of coins hitting the table. Then a pair of chairs squeaked in protest as the men rose and worked their way towards the door. Passing Mazer on their way, they were gone before he could slide into the seat across from her.
"Sorry it took me so long," he said. "With the line and a missing cook it took . . . what happened? What's wrong?"
She told him in a whisper, feeling a rush of pride that she managed to keep her voice even. Mazer's face went rigid as she spoke, but flooded with fury when she revealed the bounty also applied to her death. He bared his teeth and cursed under his breath, but he didn't get a chance to reply as the barmaid approached with fried eggs and bread.
With his fingers white against the table he waited for her to leave before he spoke. Biting the words off, he hissed, "I will rend the flesh from that worthless elf's hide."
Despite the fear spiking through her she felt a measure of comfort from his reaction. "Let's just eat and be gone. We only have a few things to pick up and then we can be on the road. Are you sure we need the clothes?"
He jerked his head into a nod and attacked the food in front of him. "No places to restock in the north," he said. The growl in his voice sounded harsher around the food in his mouth. "Yours won't last. Food and clothing, then we're gone."
Barely tasting the food, she finished soon after he did. Together they slipped from the inn. Retrieving their horses from the stables they made their way to the nearest street of vendors. Within ten minutes they spotted a food stall and weaved through the morning crowd to reach him. Unwilling to go further into the city for a better price, they paid the higher rate for the foodstuffs and loaded their saddlebags.
Ianna fumbled with the knots, but couldn't stop her hands from shaking. She felt like every pair of eyes burned into the darkness under her cowl. What had once been an irritant, the hood now felt like a shield of anonymity that at any moment could be stripped away. Finally finished with her bag, she mounted and followed Mazer's horse as it parted the men and women on foot.
Fear thudded in her chest as a patrol of soldiers marched into view. She held her breath as they passed, but only received a few curious glances at her apparel. Feeling a rush of gratitude that she was not the only one hiding her features, she nudged her horse to continue. In moments they spotted a weaver's shop.
With several displays of clothing behind its windows, the building stood out from those around it—as did the knot of men lounging near its entrance. Mazer threw a glance in her direction and motioned for her to continue as he turned towards the shop. Dismounting, he hurried inside as she held her course.
Several of the men gazed at her with cold suspicion in their eyes. One of them, a large boar of a man, stared at her as if she were the target at the end of an archery range. Distracted, she missed the cart of hay that had been headed towards her. Catching sight of it at the last moment she instinctively jerked the reins to the side.
Her mount tossed his head in annoyance, and the movement disturbed her cowl. It wasn't enough to make it fall but it allowed a flicker of light to penetrate the shadow. The large man's eyes narrowed and he made a hand signal to the men around him. As one they rose to their feet and began to work their way in her direction.
Panic engulfed her. Should she go? Or wait for Mazer? Her mind pleading for him to appear the door to the weaver opened—too late. The men had cut off the route between them and there was no way she could get back. With only seconds until they surrounded her she felt helpless as Mazer's gaze searched for her. His eyes widened as he saw her position. Leaping onto his horse he bellowed for space and kicked it into motion.
Cries of alarm and outrage rang out as he heedlessly plowed through the crowd. Men and women dived to the side to avoid him, and in seconds he reached her side. "Go!" he yelled. Yanking on the reins he led the way down a side street. The men shouted in dismay and sprinted after them.
Mounted as they were they should have had an advantage, but the crowd of men and women clogged the streets, slowing them to a fast trot. They managed to stay ahead of their pursuers but were unable to leave them behind. Mazer bellowed again for space.
With her heart in her throat Ianna tried to keep her seat amidst the chaos they were creating. Weaving through carts, wagons, and knots of people she sought to keep up with Mazer. Every few seconds she threw a look back to gauge the gap, but the men from the weavers shop managed to stay within eyesight.
"This way," Mazer growled, leaving the street for one less occupied.
Accelerating to stay with him Ianna tried to ignore the ringing calls around her, but could not deny the answering cries that now came from ahead.
"It's the Oracle!"
"Get her!"
"Close the gates or we will lose her!"
"Cut her off at the next intersection!"
The last voice thundered over the crowd, and she threw a backward look to see the large bearded man had found a horse. Following them through the space they had created, he was gaining on them.
Mazer plowed through a group of gawking women, sending them screaming into the mud. Jerking the reins, he sped down an empty side alley and out of sight. He turned two tight corners and then pulled up short as another busy street came into view.
Soldiers shouted and rushed towards the city gates, joining the swelling crowd that had arrived before them. Cursing as he saw the gates cranking shut, Mazer hissed, "That was the closest exit. We'll have to hide until we can find a way out of here."
"But they are right behind—"
An unseen force yanked her from the saddle and caught her in a pair of calloused hands. Dumping her against the wall, the figure drew a glittering knife. She scrambled to escape but instead he turned to her horse. With a deft flick he cut her saddlebags to the ground and slapped the horses rump, sending him riderless into the crowd.
Mazer had leapt from the saddle, but to her surprise mirrored the man's movements. As she found her feet Mazer sent his own horse away and then darted to her side.
"What you be on about?" the figure rounded on them, and she saw that it was a barrel-chested dwarf. With a braided black beard, he carried a heavy hammer at his side and wore a dark leather tunic. He also bore a blue tattoo of a hammer on his cheek.
"The whole city is after her," the dwarf scowled. "You'd be a fool to bring 'er here."
"We need to get out of sight, Thendor," Mazer replied in a rush. "I will explain later."
The dwarf grunted in disapproval and reached for a section of the wall next to him. He activated a trigger and the wall swung inward. Then he stepped inside. Mirroring his footsteps, Ianna and Mazer retrieved their supplies and ducked into the darkness. Just as the secret door clicked shut the thudding of hooves announced their pursuers passage.
A moment later a ball of fire appeared in the dwarf's hand. "I would think you'd be smarter than a daft fool. What'd you bring her here for?" He stabbed a meaty finger in her direction and then hooked his thumb into his blackened clothing.
"We needed supplies," Mazer replied in a harsh whisper. "We didn't know that there was a bounty on her until this morning."
The dwarf grunted and gestured outside. "They been waitin' for you. Groups of 'em are positioned all over, hopin' to catch you. The smarter ones figured you'd need clothes for her and hung about at the weaver shops."
In a small voice, Ianna said, "I didn't have much by way of traveling clothes when I left."
The dwarf made an irritated sound in the back of his throat and appraised her for the first time. Then he turned on his heels and descended the stairs into darkness. "You're lucky I moved me shop, or you would have been on your own."
"You moved?" Mazer sounded surprised. "You had been there for over a century."
"Aye," Thendor replied, his voice full of disgust. "But one of the captains didn't like what I said about his brother's worthless metalwork, so he raised the taxes on me shop. I could of stayed, but I would 'ave been stuck in his district." He issued a bark of laughter. Like wood scraping together, the humor was rough but not harsh. "He didn't expect me to up and move. Now I be under a new captain, and he appreciates me work."
"Where are we?" Ianna asked, gesturing at the crumbling walls of the tunnel.
"The upper sewers," Thendor replied. "The spring rains clean 'em out every year. By winter the smell would be the death of you."
"A thief couldn't pay a debt to him," Mazer explained. "So he paid with a map of the tunnels. I doubt any but the thieves' guild knows more about them. They have an outpost somewhere between the cities, despite the soldier's efforts to remove it."
Thendor worked his way around a fetid pond and then ascended another set of steps. "One o' the reasons I chose this spot was for the access," he said. Withdrawing a key from his hand, he unlocked a massive strongdoor and led them into a darkened room that smelled of fresh cut cedar. Grateful to be out of the foul air of the sewers, Ianna recognized the space as a storage room for planks of wood.
"Give me a momen' and I will get you upstairs," Thendor said, and then stepped through the door on the opposite side. Extinguishing his light as he departed, he left the room in shadow.
