Gav grunted as he struggled to push an overladen wheelbarrow through the old market on the south side of Adlecrest. It was piled high with metalware that had been confiscated from the people of the moors. They had finally run out of steel billets, and Arden had reluctantly decided it was time to melt down farm equipment and utensils to turn into spearheads.
It had been two days since his ill fated trip to the castle, and they hadn’t bothered to hide the increase in security since. He’d decided there was no point in attempting to enter while they were on high alert. However, he was also aware that the Balith army was fast approaching and that he had to deal with his target soon if he wanted to avoid unnecessary loss of life. However, he couldn’t help but worry about what would become of Arden if the town fell. Blacksmiths were badly needed in times of war whoever was in charge, but it was clear that the old man was no simple blacksmith.
The market was normally a bustling place where people traded wares both from the Moors and the Finger. However, today, like the rest of the town, it was eerily empty. The Lord General had expedited the departure of noncombatants after the fire, and only those deemed essential, such as he and Arden remained. Most of the remaining nobles had relocated to the castle, and the only other people on the streets were soldiers on patrol. They recognized Gav by now and paid him little heed. Being recognized was a problem for an assassin. To make matters worse, by now, he was probably the only young man in all of Adlecrest who didn’t spend every minute of the day in the company of other men and would be a prime suspect should any further skulduggery occur.
However, that would soon change. He had heard from the soldiers that reinforcements were marching up from Dramouth and were due any time now. The castle guards would be dealing with the influx of dozens of unfamiliar faces, presenting him with an opportunity to get this over with before the fighting began.
There was another problem, however. Ever since Arden had revealed the Verini plan of blunting an attack and suing for peace, he had been having second thoughts about killing Lord Vick. He desperately wished he could speak with his master about possibly sparing the Lord General’s life, but if he was in the town, he was keeping himself very well hidden.
For now, Gav knew he had no choice but to continue with the job. He didn’t know who contracted the work, but he had been told that once a job was accepted, it had to be completed, or there would be dire consequences. Gav didn’t want his master to incur the wrath of someone who was powerful enough to order the death of a Lord General. It would be a poor way to repay him for raising him and teaching him such important skills.
A loud horn blared to the south and Gav looked over his shoulder, even though he knew it came from beyond the town’s walls. There was a commotion as the soldiers rushed past him towards the wall.
“Probably the promised reinforcements,” he thought to himself. “Tonight’s the night.”
The force was widely said to be led by Lord Gerrod, a warrior dear to the people of Norrow’s hearts, and he was almost certainly going to be welcomed with a banquet on the night of his arrival. That was when Gav decided he would strike. He hurriedly pushed his wheelbarrow down the street. He had a laundry list of preparations to make.
He quickened his pace as much as he dared as he hurried back towards the workshop. He was walking down one of the town’s arteries, but there wasn’t a soul to be seen. It seemed that all the soldiers who were normally on patrol were now on the south wall. The perfect time for enemy spies to cause mischief, he told himself, and a rare lapse in the garrison’s discipline.
His senses warned him of danger moments before a pair of men stepped out onto the street. Their faces were filthy as were the thick coats they wore to ward against the cold.
“What are you doing in our part of town, boy?” one of them demanded as four men stepped out onto the street behind Gav. He looked at the wheelbarrow and sneered. “Up to some thieving, are you?”
“Carrion,” Gav thought to himself as he looked around. He had long had held a loathing for robbers and those of their ilk, who lived off the suffering of others.
“No guards here to save you,” one of the men standing behind Gav added with a cruel grin on his face. “Why don’t you turn your pockets out?”
Gav picked a knife up from the wheelbarrow and carefully noted where each thug was standing. He was surprised ruffians like them were still inhabiting the town. The guards had combed through every building over the last two days. Somehow these five had escaped. Good, he’d hadn’t had the opportunity to practice his blade techniques since his arrival, and he’d be doing the good people of Adlecrest a favour by disposing of them.
At the same time, their sudden appearance was a convenient way for him to disappear. What troubled him most about completing the job was Arden’s fate. If all went well, the Lord General would be dead, and Gav would leave town, never to be seen again. He was already under scrutiny, and his disappearance would be all the proof they needed to accuse him, and Arden would inevitably be fingered as a conspirator. Now, with the appearance of these robbers, Gav had a convenient way to disappear that might allow Arden to avoid accusation.
“Careful lads, he’s got a knife,” one of the thugs said mockingly as the others brandished clubs and the other makeshift weapons they were carrying. “Why don’t you put that down before someone gets hurt?”
Gav’s arm moved quicker than any of them could see, and the man standing closest to him hadn’t even realized his throat had been cut until he began choking on his own blood. The one standing next to him was the first to realize that Gav had made the first move. He buried the dagger to the hilt in the stomach of the next closest man.
To his surprise, the remaining thugs leapt back. Steel flashed in the midday sun as they drew swords that they had concealed in the folds of the cloaks. Gav cursed. These were no mere thugs. This was a carefully laid out trap or test. His target and his friend were far more cunning than he gave them credit for, and he had revealed himself without hesitation. He would deal with the fallout later. For now, he had to deal with his remaining three assailants before any help that might be lurking close by could intervene.
Unarmed, Gav darted towards the next closest man as the one with the knife in his stomach slumped to the ground. The man took the bait and swung his sword. Keeping on the balls of his feet, Gav stopped and swayed back. The tip of the man’s sword missed his nose by a hair. Before he could recover and ready a thrust, Gav had stepped in and grabbed his sword arm by the wrist. He quickly found the man’s thumb and twisted it. He yelped before dropping his sword.
As it clattered to the ground, one of the other swordsmen aimed a thrust of his sword between Gav and the dropped sword. Gav had read the move as the tip of the second man’s sword struck the ground, he aimed a kick at its base. The man’s head dropped as he clung onto his weapon stubbornly, and Gav kicked at his chin with all of his might, snapping his head back, and knocking him out cold.
Gav twisted his body to avoid being skewered by the third swordsman. As he did, the man with the ruined thumb tackled Gav to the ground. The boy gasped as the man pummelled his sides with his fists as they fell.
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Pinned down by the man’s weight, Gav kept his arms by his sides to ward off his opponent’s blows. He felt something hard attached to the man’s hip but couldn’t move his hands to it. He decided to defend himself until an opportunity arose. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Get clear so I can run my blade through his head,” the last man gasped through gritted teeth.
Gav felt the weight lift off his body slightly and swiftly wriggled under the man before kneeing him as hard as he could in the groin. The man grunted in pain as Gav’s expert fingers reached into his clothes and drew the dagger he kept at his belt. The man shrieked in agony as Gav drove the blade into his side.
The weight lifted as the man attempted to roll away, and once he did, Gav nimbly leapt to his feet just as the remaining swordsman’s blade clattered off the floor. As the pair faced off against one another, the man glanced at his two comrades who were writhing on the ground in agony. However, Gav saw through his trap and stood his ground.
The man cursed before slashing at the air in front of Gav. The swing was slower than what he had seen of the man before. Another attempt at deception. Then came the second swing. This time, Gav stepped in. Though it started slow, like the first one, it sped up midway. However, Gav was still quicker. He used the hilt of his dagger to intercept the blade close to the hilt before aiming a thrust at the man’s throat.
His opponent kicked at Gav’s feet, forcing him to pivot to avoid being tripped, sending his thrust askew. Using his momentum to his advantage, Gav smashed his elbow into the man’s face and twisted his neck to avoid a vicious punch that would have landed against his temple moments later. At the same time, Gav dropped his knife from one hand to the other and attempted to drive it into his opponent’s ribs. However, the blade deflected off something hard under the man’s clothes. Gav cursed and leapt back. This one was wearing armour!
“If only I had my sword,” Gav lamented to himself. “Then this fight would have been over in the first exchange.”
He shook his head. There was no sense in dwelling on what could have been. He and his foe circled one another warily, each having gained an appreciation for the other’s skill. The man swung his sword. It was a short, compact blow that left few openings, and Gav was forced to leap back. With his foe on the back foot, the man drove forward with measured steps and attempted to skewer him through the midsection.
Gav attempted to deflect it with the back of his dagger, but the blow was heavy, and he was forced to leap to the side to avoid it. The man followed up with a sideways swing. Another compact blow that he supported with his left hand on the flat of his blade. Acrobatically, Gav leapt over the blow and brought his blade down on the Fingers of the man’s left hand. However, he didn’t have enough leverage, and his dagger failed to penetrate the man’s thick fencing gloves.
The man recovered from his swing and attempted to create some distance. To his surprise, Gav, who had the shorter blade, did not follow. He hesitated for a moment, and Gav used the opening to step in. The man swung from the shoulder, attempting to drive Gav off, but the moment’s hesitation had cost him, and his blow was wild. Gav ducked it easily before thrusting his dagger towards the man’s heart. Instinctively, his opponent attempted to use his free hand to block the blade. Using the strength in his wrist, Gav changed the course of his strike, arcing his arm around the man’s hand and driving the blade into his neck.
Mortally wounded, the man attempted to hack at Gav, but the boy quickly darted clear. As his opponent collapsed into a pool of his own blood, Gav quickly finished off the other two wounded men. He felt no remorse in this. They were mortally wounded, and he had spared them slow, painful deaths. When he turned back to his final foe, he saw that he was already dead.
With his enemies dealt with, Gav took a moment to catch his breath and observe his surroundings for signs of reinforcements. However, the town was as quiet as it had been before this bunch had ambushed him. They were either acting alone, or their fellows were content to watch.
Moving quickly, Gav ran to the next street and broke into a toyshop. Its owners had long since fled, leaving their wares behind. He pushed his wheelbarrow into the workshop at the back and tipped its contents out before using it to transport the five bodies inside. Soon, the bloodstains on the ground were the only evidence of the fight that had taken place. With luck, the bodies wouldn’t be found for days.
Even then, it was a matter of time before the enemy decided that the blacksmith’s apprentice was their intruder. He thought briefly about warning Arden but thought better of it. He had made enough mistakes on this job already. Involuntarily, he glanced at the bodies and felt a wave of nausea. Those killings were unnecessary and born out of his impulsiveness.
He shook his head. There would be time to flagellate himself for that later. For now, he had to retrieve his things and prepare for tonight’s work. His enemy would be on alert, but they now knew what he looked like. There was no time to lose.
Lord Vick tapped his foot as he looked worriedly out at the town’s southern quarter from the castle walls. He was dressed for battle in plate armour and surrounded by a dozen similarly armoured guards.
The reinforcements had all been part of a ruse to apprehend Arden’s young apprentice. Of course, the rank and file soldiers weren’t privy to that information, and Lord Gerrod’s non-arrival was already affecting morale.
“I’m sure they’ll turn up,” Randal remarked. “They’ve probably just been delayed.”
Vick bit his lip. “The patrols reported blood near the ambush site but no signs of bodies.”
“Sir Feryn is one the finest fencers in the County, and he had four of his best men with him,” Randal frowned. “Perhaps they decided to interrogate the lad on their own initiative.”
Vick shook his head and began walking down the stairs into the castle courtyard. “No, Sir Feryn is a man of duty. He would have reported in as soon as he apprehended the boy. I fear he and his men are dead.”
“If that’s the case, then he is our intruder,” Randal mused as he hurried after his friend. “Do you want me to tell your advisor?”
“No,” Vick said flatly. “You’d take too much pleasure in it.”
“What do you think he’s after?” Randal ventured.
“If I were a betting man, I’d say it’s my head,” Vick remarked, making a chopping action with his hand against his neck.
Randal raised an eyebrow. “You seem awful blasé about it, though I agree with that assessment. There’s no other reason for him to still be here.”
The younger man paused and sighed. “Seems strange that House Balith would resort to such tactics.”
“House Balith are not the only ones who benefit from my death,” Vick replied absently.
Randal frowned. “This would be right up House Vaint’s alley, wouldn’t it?”
“He will come tonight,” Vick said half to himself.
“You think so?” Randal ventured.
“His cover is blown,” Vick pointed out. “We know his face. He can’t afford to wait any longer.”
“Then let him come,” Randal said as he looked over his shoulder. “Let us deal with him quickly so that we can focus on our real problems.”
Vick gave his friend a sideways look. “Our intruder has just killed five of our men, including one of House Verini’s best fencers. We cannot underestimate him.”
“He is just one man,” Randal objected. “And he won’t know we can see him coming. Besides, we still haven’t revealed our trump card yet.”
“I’m not sure how to tell the northern garrison that their commander is dead,” Vick sighed, ignoring his friend’s toothy smile.
“Just tell them,” Randal suggested. “They’re a veteran unit that will be able to channel the loss into fighting more ferociously.”
Vick eyed his friend before heaving a sigh. “The loss of Sir Feryn is a big blow to our defences. I’m afraid you will have to take over his responsibilities.”
Randal blinked in surprise. “I can’t be tied down in one place when the arrows start flying. We’ve been over this!”
“The north wall will be taking the brunt of the attack,” Vick pointed out. “You would have been there anyway.”
“Still, tactical flexibility and all that,” Randal protested.
“Sacrifices will have to be made in light of recent events, my friend,” Vick soothed.
Randal’s eyes hardened abruptly. “So, where do you want to have your showdown?”
Vick came to a stop at the foot of the stairs and looked at the keep. It had taken a day and a half for the fire to burn itself out and the west wing was little more than a burnt out husk. He then looked up at the keep.
“Up there?” Randal grunted. “Are you sure? There will be nowhere to run.”
Vick gave his friend a sly look. “I thought you were confident in your abilities.”
“I am,” Randal huffed. “It’s just that…”
“He will have nowhere to run either,” Vick said. “And it’ll be easier to see him coming if it’s there, won’t it?”
“I can’t argue with that,” Randal conceded at length. “Shall I order the guard reduced tonight?”
Vick thought it over for a moment before shaking his head. “No need to make his job easier, and if he gets caught by them, so much the better.”
Randal nodded in agreement. “This has been a nasty distraction.”
“And a costly one at that,” Vick added.