Irith listened to the footsteps outside her carriage. They were expected but the whole trip felt wrong, though not in any way she could explain. But she’d learned to trust her instincts over the years. Her premise for leaving Lem so suddenly was based on a possible uprising a week’s journey to the north, in a duchy ruled by the Festus family. They’d always had some hostility to the king. Nothing that caused them to lose their lands, of course, just a falling out of favor, really.
It was predicated on the king raising taxes on the mines the family ran. Duke Festus was incensed to be losing money to pay for the roads and walls of some distant city he had no pull in and made the king aware of it. Ever since, the two hadn’t spoken and no marriages tied the Festus clan closer to the royal family.
It wasn’t Irith’s first time investigating the family; the suspicion had existed as long as the dispute. In her days as a field agent, she’d looked at countless records of ore imports and tax revenues. The worst they did was take a few extra coins here and there, never brave enough to do something openly treasonous. This time, however, she’d heard no explanations for the inquiry.
Her contacts in Lem said the duke had slowly been regaining favor with lavish gifts and artworks commissioned for the king. On the surface, they maintained their hostility, but it was all for show. The king couldn’t appear weak, and the duke couldn’t appear treasonous. She’d heard rumblings that the main factor for the duke’s rise back to power was his betrayal of several lesser nobles who’d plotted against the kingdom.
So she was surprised when a missive dispatched her to the region immediately to oversee the agents in that area. Turginet’s message was fortuitously timed, as it came when she was traveling between villages to see the next tax collector’s records.
Irith,
Captain found the room below was collapsed and the items removed. He, I, and the boy are going to investigate. We won’t do anything too spectacular, just take a look. We’ll report our findings tomorrow.
Your friend,
Turginet
She placed the cube in her travel bag and checked her vest for daggers. She’d worn a dress throughout the trip, to keep up the charade. But each night she wore her combat outfit beneath it: tight-fitting pants and boots with a matching black vest. Her hair was pulled up in a bun and contained several long needles she could use to impale someone unsuspecting. Most people wouldn’t get past the dozen or so daggers she had secreted away anyhow.
A knock on the door and a voice came next. “My lady, there are bandits on the road. Looks like five of them, but the woods are too dark to see if they have others,” the guard said as Irith opened the door and stepped into the night air.
There were a dozen guards, another war mage, and a clergy with her. The guards were circled around the war mage, leaving a spot open for her in the back to join the protective circle. The clergy, a bishop from Lem, stepped beside her as she surveyed the road.
“Lady Helmuth, it appears we have trouble on the road. There’s no need for you to handle this, just stay by me while the guards dispatch the vagrants,” he said with a smile that belied the divine mana she could feel roiling inside him. The one advantage she had was the clergy’s ignorance of her and the archmages’ ability to sense it. She clasped her hands behind her back and nodded to the bishop.
“Bishop Dent, let’s stay closer to the carriages. If I could trouble you to heal my men?” she said with an equally deceitful smile.
“No trouble at all, my lady,” he replied, pretending to survey the road with her. The guards closed ranks around the war mage, a light affinity caster, and stayed close to the carriages. The bishop stood next to Irith, his shoulder nearly touching hers. After a moment of silence, Irith spoke.
“Can you see the bandits in this darkness?”
The bishop shook his head. “No, but we have a scout ahead meeting with them. It should only be a moment before we know more.”
Irith looked at the landscape, considering. It was perfectly chosen to counter her. There were no trees or rocks, just a dimly moonlit plain of grass and short rolling hills. The only shadows were under the soldiers’ feet and the body of the carriage, which would make it difficult to hide when they attacked. She squinted at the circle of soldiers. They had shields up but a movement among the men gave her a glean at the light mage. He was concentrating, with his hand outstretched and the palm up. But his arm wasn’t facing the road, it was facing her.
She fingered the hilt of a dagger concealed behind her back but kept it out of view of the bishop, who was glancing at her occasionally. She could feel his mana rising in speed, it was sickening. The hatred and anguish it released in waves battered her nerves as she pretended to calmly watch the empty road in front of her.
“Strange for bandits to ambush us here. I’d have chosen a copse of trees or a bridge,” she said quietly to the bishop.
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“Probably just farmers trying to make up for a bad harvest. Hopefully we can avoid bloodshed, my lady,” Dent replied. Irith kept her eyes fixated on the circle of soldiers, waiting for a specific moment to begin. And it came as suddenly as she expected.
The two guards facing her shifted on their legs to move out of the way and clear a path for the light mage, who was finishing his spell. At the same moment, the bishop’s arm shot towards her neck and a ball of light soared into the sky, eliminating any shadows in the area. Irith ducked under his arm and whipped out the dagger, jamming the blade in the side of the bishop’s head. He fell instantly, eyes widened in shock and face contorted in rage. The evil aura of divine mana faded instantly as the light mage started his next spell and a beam of focused light began forming in his hand.
Irith flicked her finger towards the small circle of shadow under his feet and a claw reached out of the darkness and twisted the mage’s leg. He cried out in pain and dropped to his knees. The guards huddled around the mage to protect him while three in the back stepped out from behind the wall and released arrows. It would have worked, if Irith was anything but a war mage. She’d sat in that circle casting spells before and knew the tactics.
Before the arrows flew, she raised a wall of shadow from the ground. The guards shouted to reform and protect the light mage. They were surprised, but she wasn’t. If they really wanted to kill her, they should have brought an archmage. This light spell would make fighting harder, but not impossible. Her shadows would override the mage’s light, only her mobility was limited. But it was time to fix that.
In the moment the guards reformed their ranks, she channeled her mana into a spell model sewn into her shoulder guards and an arrow of darkness shot into the sky, piercing the light orb and bringing back the long shadows cast by the moon. As soon as the light disappeared, shadespawn began crawling out of the guards’ shadows and clawing at their shields.
The battle began with a numbers advantage for the soldiers, but the tide shifted as her minions grew from darkness with every wave of her hand. In the confusion, she used another spell to impale the light mage with a spear of obsidian shadow. The soldiers broke rank and removed their swords, readying themselves for a charge.
“Come fools, learn why I’m called the shadow witch!” she screamed as the men tried to surround her. A cloak of inky black tendrils emerged from her back and covered her in dripping darkness as she began disappearing into every shadow,reappearing without warning with a long dagger in each hand.
The closest soldier swung wildly, hoping to score a lucky hit, but she was too skilled. Every inch of uncovered flesh found a dagger piercing it as she jumped in and out of the shadows. She checked off the kills in her mind as she methodically took apart the soldiers.
A stab under the armpit of one soldier who raised his sword. A slice to the knee and a dagger to the head of another. A few tried standing back-to-back to defeat her ambush abilities, but that just gave her time to cast another spear of darkness and impale both at the same time. In under a minute the ambush failed, and the moonlit ground was covered in oozing dark blood and muffled cries. She checked each body and made sure to finish any who were still clinging to life.
She spent a moment staring at the lifeless body of the mage. She hadn’t known him well, but he was part of the Order of War Magic. He was probably told she was treasonous, which wasn’t entirely untrue. But the reason for it was hidden from him, the same as her. It was unfortunate to lose a fellow mage over the kingdom’s manipulations, but there was simply no helping it.
She hurried back to the carriage and packed supplies, shoving them into an empty saddlebag as she took a guard’s horse. Even if they hadn’t sent more, the kingdom was known for being thorough. She’d participated in several assassinations herself. The roads were probably watched, and each town would have a clergy visiting in case she made it back. They’d likely expect her to flee the country, which would force her to continue west.
The mountain range to the north was guarded heavily as it bordered wilderness, and she’d have trouble making it through unnoticed or unharmed. To the west was the Penult kingdom, which was similar to Numera in all but name. The least likely path was to head south, back towards Lem. They’d be on the lookout for her there, but the large amounts of people on the roads would make finding someone difficult.
She heard horses galloping in the distance. It seems this was well timed, she thought. They’d be here in minutes, expecting to find her body and a few guards shoveling an unmarked grave. She turned south, racing across the landscape. It was an hour’s journey out of the plains and into a forest that sat between Lem and the Festus Duchy. In the forest she’d be untouchable where the shadows never disappeared.
As she moved farther away, she saw flickering torches appear on the road, heading towards the carriage. A minute later and shouting followed as the torches spread out, looking for tracks. Fortunately, the ground was dry and covered in an ocean of ankle-high grass. Only an expert tracker familiar with the area would be able to find her trail before it disappeared, but the kingdom wouldn’t involve civilians. It would make cleanup too difficult.
As the horse moved through the plain, she found her eyes wandering across the landscape, looking for pursuers. Her thoughts were on Turginet and the captain, who were deep underground with Zeek right now, heading into what was probably a trap. She clicked her tongue. The damn men were so impatient. Not that she was complaining about the message; it solved the puzzle of her trip instantly. Besides, between Turginet and the captain, they’d need an army to fight them. The winding narrows of the catacombs would make it doubly as hard, and the map they’d drawn of the sewers gave them an advantage in case of flight.
An hour later she reached the forest. It was just the right kind of silence. Crickets chirping and flies buzzing were welcome sounds; it meant the forest was normal and healthy and unafraid. She slowed her horse as she started weaving through the trees, keeping watch on the stars and moon to guide her way. She’d have to travel a few days on little sleep before she could relax. Selling the horse wasn’t an option, it was a breed common among knights and would be recognized immediately. She’d kept a stock of money just in case of an event such as this in her pack.
When she reached a town, she’d steal some clothes, resupply, change her appearance, and begin a slow walk back to Lem. As she weaved through the trees, a black beetle flew in front of her. She reached out and tapped it, reading the message quickly before pulling out her cube and sending a response.
Trouble in Lem. Taking shelter in the safehouse. Turginet still in the sewers. Be careful, vixen, they’ve come for us.
Despite her tension, Irith barked out a laugh and nudged the horse to move faster. Despite her flaws, Priscilla was reliable in a pinch. It was finally happening, the beginning of the end. She’d learn what happened to Hendricks, or she’d die trying. The thrice-damned Goddess of Light would learn the wrath of darkness.