Sandorn peered around the corner, the street was still quiet, empty of life. The passing patrols supposed to be on duty had been well compensated for their absence. There would be no interruptions.
Sandorn waved Averan forward with what men they had with them, 22 was the sum of their numbers. 22 against 200, is it any wonder the Amata doesn’t think us a threat. But he will learn soon enough.
He waited until they had all passed before following them out into the middle of the street, faint light from torches aided the moon in illuminating its pavement. The 20 of their clan took up positions in a tight circle surrounding Sandorn and Averan. With shields up and linked they were as well protected as they could be in such an open position.
Averan stalked restlessly, he was always restless before battle, restless and excited. He and Sandorn were dressed in almost identical sets of Arronian armor, each one handed down to them through generations of their family. Though Averan preferred a heavier build to him. They needed no shield to protect them with such armor upon them. Even their men were better armed than any Clanman had a right to be, a product of the wealth built up for just this assault. Whatever the odds Sandorn felt confident, this was a moment he and his brother had long planned for. A chance for them to truly gain power and influence.
“They’re late. Do you think they’ve realised?”
Averan spoke in a hushed tone as he leaned in towards Sandorn.
“Relax, they’ll come. The Amata has to respond, besides they already think us arrogant and complacent. This will only feed into that assumption. It is in our perceived nature to act so recklessly as this.They’ll come.”
“I hope so brother. Otherwise your grand scheme will be for nothing.”
“Ready yourself and remember what I said. Not until my signal.”
They waited in silence then, Averan pacing and Sandorn staring at the wide open street, carefully chosen for the space it would afford them.
Finally after what seemed an age they appeared.
Averan pounded on his chest, “It is time.”
“Wait.” Sandorn pulled Averan down beside him.
Ahead of them the men of Amata’s clan marched into position. The Clan Leader of the Underground had ruled Gorias’ streets for well over two decades. Not without good reason. His men were no rabble of cut throats. They were trained ex-city guards and mercenaries whose sole purpose was to fulfill the wishes of their Boss. The 100 of the Amata were almost as renowned as the Household Guards of the Forty in the High city.
They had been the driving force behind the Amata’s surge to power. Decimating and wiping out entire clans in brutal displays of power.
They must have seen the challenge before them as pitiful then. Still they were professionals. They did not rush in, Sandorn saw the outriders scaling the roofs around them, checking for any waiting enemies. There were none. It was just them, the 22.
This seemed to surprise the Captain for still he did not come, not until he was completely satisfied did he order his men to advance.
“Yesss,” hissed Averan beside him.
“Wait,” Sandorn repeated pulling his brother once more, “Let us take as much advantage as we can.”
The men of the Amata clan came slowly, seeing no movement seemed to give them confidence, it truly did appear as if the Clan of the Twins were just offering up themselves. Perhaps they expected a call of surrender to cry out. Sandorn waited. Waited. Only when the first spear of the Amata clan sounded off shield did he push Averan upwards. Following his lead Sandorn leaped up with him. Together they transformed, just as they had done ever since they were kids.
He remembered the first time he had tried it, the pain and suffering. Feeling like his whole body was being ripped apart. There were those who never managed it. Or never truly mastered it. Not those with King’s blood however. For Sandorn it was a now part of him as much as an arm or leg, and without any effort he could change. The magic and power behind the transformation was still a mystery to Sandorn, as it was to almost all with the blood of the Chimera, its origins a closely guarded secret even his Family little remembered. But he doubted any could now change as quick and as suddenly as he or his brother.
Completing their transformation they leapt high over the wall of men around them. Once clear they swivelled mid air before launching back down. They moved almost in unison, their hours of practise far beyond the city’s walls only heightening the already strong link between them.
Averan attacked first, wiith a sudden burst of speed smashing down into the waiting men of the Amata clan, immediately killing the first row of men now surrounding their own. Sandorn finished his own leap and followed close behind, he too slammed back down onto the street, taking several more Amata men with him.
The soldiers sent to kill them may have seen such beasts before. But the blood of the Chimera ran pure in he and his brother, purer even than the Houses of the Forty. Even though they were young both of their Beasts were a match for any of the Lords and Ladies of the High city and theirs.
Averan’s beast was bigger than Sandorn’s, but not by much. Sandorn himself stood 10ft off the ground, even on four legs. Two horns atop and below protected his Lion Head and body and a tail steel-tipped and deadly guarded his back. Without a moment’s pause Averan roared into the mass of soldiers lashing out with tail, horns and paws. Sandorn was not usually so direct as his brother but he too launched himself into the crowd, leaping and striking before any could land a single blow on him.
The Men of Amata were as shocked as they were terrified. This was far more than they had bargained for. One Chimera they might have faced, faced and died. But two was enough to send them fleeing. Sandorn focused on killing all those around him. Fear did most of the work, his tail and claws the rest.
Between both of them they slaughtered the Amata men, by the time Sandorn stopped his attacks almost a hundred bodies lay scattered around them. His own men were busy aiding Averan in pursuit, mostly pointing out those which needed to be eliminated. The chaos would have been enough to wake virtually all of the city people sleeping in the nearby homes. Once Averan was satisfied all of the Amata men had been accounted for he nodded at Sandorn.
Already he could hear screams and shouts reaching his ears as their work slowly revealed itself. Almost all of the men of Amata were laid out before him, such a sight would be enough to have the entire city talking, Inner and Outer rings. It was time to move.
Sandorn urged Averan up the street to where the Amata’s men had first appeared, he transformed back to his human form but Averan continued in his beast form ignoring his brother’s glare.
“Averan. Transform back. NOW. We can’t be seen. Not yet. Control the Beast, you are in control, not it.”
For a moment Sandorn was froze, he knew what happened when Averan relinquished control to his Beast, if he did so now it would be the end of them. Finally however he breathed a sigh of relief as the feline features took on a softer look and Averan transformed back to himself.
He shook his head and looked at the carnage around them, he only showed signs of confusion for a moment before taking the lead and urging their men after him. Sandorn followed on behind. Averan’s beast was fierce, large and powerful, sometimes he wondered if it was too much for his brother. He still had not fully tamed it and Sandorn was often left guessing as to which of them truly contained the other. It was too late to be pondering such things now however.
The Amata would have been left surprised by the death of his Envoy, but there was little chance he could have ever thought his entire Battalion of men would be decimated by a single upshoot clan of barely 20.
Even still it was better to press the attack immediately.
The Amata’s home was intended as a mirror to the Manors of the Forty of the Inner city. As such the sprawling House which he called home was enclosed on all sides by a 14 ft wall, patrolled at all times by his personal guard. Ostentacious and lavishly designed as it was, the Manor was a tribute to just how far and untouchable the Amata had rose in the undercity. So much so that all his illegitimate activities were ignored for the favor and wealth he bestowed on any Officers of the City Guard chosen to investiage him. Sandorn could not help admiring the structure briefly as they looked upon its walls from high atop a roof some distance from the Manor’s large wooden gates.
Averan gritted his teeth and moved up close beside him.
“Is this still necessary, why pretend we do not have the Beasts? What good is it now? We can be in and out with them before any can raise an alarm or stop us.”
Sandorn shook his head, “You know why. You want the entire city to know of us? It is better to have people wonder and amaze at just how we did it then to know exactly what power it is we hold. Besides once it’s revealed questions will be asked. Wendon will keep the worst ones off us but this will put us in immediate danger. You know our family history as well as I.”
Averan sighed, “Yes, I do. Fine, sneak it is. Fenador, the bait.”
Fenador nodded and let out a low whistle, down below them two of their men, Tharva and Lear dragged forward the lifeless body of the Amata Captain to lie in front of the Gates. They moved fast, just as they had practiced, upon the battelements challenges were issued but ignored from the Gate guards. Before a warning shot could be fired both Tharv and Lear had retreated and the Captain’s body was left alone, unmoving on the street. Even poorly lit the guards would recognise the Captain from his armor and helm.
They had to retrieve it, or at least inspect it. Sandorn knew that defeat was unfathomable for them, the same Captain had left the manor with 100 men at his back and had never been defeated by any clan, let alone some unheard of lower Quarter clan.
It took them a moment to gather their courage however, one guard with sword drawn came first flanked on both sides by crossbowmen. Sandorn ducked low and got his men to do the same.
All was still, the Guards called out to their Captain but were met with silence. Sandorn inched closer to the roof’s edge and peered down to where the men were steadily approaching the dead body of their superior. Only when the swordsman had finally knelt down to examine the body did he whistle. Low and shrill his whistle was instantly followed by three more whistles as his longbowmen struck.
At once Averan leapt down from the roof and charged towards the open gates. Three of their fastest men came after him but Averan moved faster than any man should have and had reached the gates before the others were even halfway across the street. The blood of the Chimera gave more than just the gift of the beast.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
They didn’t wait to check if the eight other longbowmen had been successful in taking out the Guards littered all around the wall. His men were few but finer than any Clan soldier had a right to be, he trusted them.
The faint sound of swords and killing reached his keen ears as Averan disappeared inside the gates, but no sign of any alarm. Averan had succeeded. As Sandorn knew he would.
He waited a moment with held breath for any cries or screams along the walls. None came to him. Finally he released his own breath and leapt down from the roof. With the remainder of his men he entered the Gates.
Inside Averan was busy cleaning off his axe.
“Now we storm?” Averan enquired.
Sandorn nodded, “Now we storm”
The grounds were practically empty, few lights flickered in nearby buildings but most would have been home to the 100 men and no one came out to confront them.
Averan set the men into formation, directing the six remaining men to follow up behind him and Sandorn. Once happy he led the way up the the elaborate door of the Mansion.
He didn’t pause but with a single blow of his longaxe smashed down into the door. With a kick Sandorn completed the task and together they charged into the corridor. The first two guards which met them were littered with bolts from the crossbows of their men behind them. Two more did manage to confront them but Averan dealt with one and Sandorn the other, his own Arronian blade shattering the guards weapon before he plunged it into his neck. Averan was more direct, his axe embedding itself into the man’s head, breaking though helmet and bone all the same.
That done they headed straight down towards the end of the Hall. A servant stopped in front of them with tray laden with wine, frozen in his step. Averan put a finger to his lips and took a glass from the servant’s tray before downing it. He finished off another before he patted the man across the chest.
Sandorn raised his eyes before grabbing the man by the arm. He didn’t know his real name, it was better that way. He only knew him as the Key.
“Our task is almost finished and your intel has proven invaluable thus far, all we promised awaits you. Your family returned and gold freely given for your help. Now tell us, where is he?”
The man looked terrified but to his credit he took a breath and steadied himself, he pointed up.
“In his Gallery, up two flights of stairs. He has guests. But he will not know you are here. Not yet. The guards had no time to alert him.”
The man straightened puffing up his chest.
“I have done everything you asked of me.”
Sandorn had to stifle a smile at the man’s haughty expression and tone.
“Good. You wait here for the rest of our men, inform them of our location. It is almost done my friend. Once finished you will be safe and your wife and kids along with you.”
Seeing the distaste in the man’s eyes Sandorn could not resist, “Do not hate what you don’t understand. If the Amata had found you had a secret family would he not have done worse? You’re supposed to be his slave after all. You should thank us friend. We have helped you more than you could ever help us.”
Sometimes Averan’s penchant for the taverns and drinking dens of Gorias proved useful, none more so than the acquisition of the Amata’s servant.
With that Sandorn led the way up the steps motioning to the others to be quiet. He thread carefully, his steps measured but the stairs was as well made as it was ornately decorated. No creak or sound gave them away. On the landing he paused. Voices could be heard coming from a room down a the end of the corridor. Steadily they approached.
The voices were animated, as they got closer Sandorn could make out the speech.
“They killed my Envoy. What was I to do? I have not ruled down here through being indecisive. I needed to set an example. You think I care about some rumors, some fearful mongering about pureblood powers. Do you know how many people claim such powers? Too many. Most of which I had killed before they could ever use them on me. I will not have it be said I was afraid of some petty twins. They stole my Quarter and had the nerve to Kill Tresden after I showed them kindness. They had to die.”
“Can we be sure they are dead? I warned you about them, these are no ordinary boys Amata, they will be your ruin if you are not cautious.”
“I am sure they are dead, and I don’t care who they are. My 100 would match any set against them, nevermind some rabble of kids with a handful of mercs. They are dead and your worries unfounded, believe me. I do not understand why they worry you so.”
“They worry me so because they are-”
Averan stepped ahead of Sandorn, evidently impatient. Without a pause he forced open the door. Sandorn gritted his teeth but followed.
Inside the man known as the Amata was stood alongside a man Sandorn did not recognise, he had his face partially covered by his cowl. Both held cups in hand but only one of them looked troubled by the sudden interruption. Only the Amata. The other just seemed irritated.
“You?” The Amata’s eyes went wide and he drew a sword from about his waist. “How is this possible?” He shook his head. “No, I sent my men?”
“All dead.” Averan smiled, “All 100 of them. Were not so fierce as you would have people believe Amata. We had them diced up within…..” Avern squinted tilting his head and looking back to Sandorn, “10, maybe 15 minutes. Probably somewhere in between.”
The Amata glanced behind the twins to where four of their crossbowmen waited on him.
“I have friends, too many for me to count. This will be your doom Twins, you can not hope to survive without me. Only with my help can you succeed in whatever it is you want. I assure you whatever it is, gold, land, slaves, nothing is beyond my reach. With me you will achieve far more than you could ever do alone. I know things. People who can-”
In a movement so fast even Sandorn’s attuned senses barely picked up, the stranger beside the Amata flicked his wrist. In moments the entire room was engulfed in a wall of smoke. Though blinded Sandorn heard the sounds of the crossbolts as they released, followed by the sound of crashing glass as the window shattered and a gust of wind swept through the room clearing the smoke enough for him to see the Amata with three bolts in his stomach and Averan’s axe point deep in his chest.
Sandron rushed to the window and was amazed to see a figure bounding out of the manor gates.
Sandorn calculated, the leap should have been enough to kill a man. Or at least enough to break bones. It should have been. But it wasn’t. Either the man is extremely lucky and has an impressive skill for landings or…..
“Averan. With me. The rest of you get down below, gather the others and tell them to secure the Manor. It is ours now.”
With that he leapt. Averan following close behind him, they landed almost simultaneously and headed out to the still open gates. The man had already put some distance between him and them but they were fast. No one had ever come close to matching Sandorn or his Brother when it came to speed. They used it to good effect now.
Sandorn had spied the street which the man had chosen to flee into and through his own volition had figured out the most likely path he would take. From it they gained on him, still it took them longer than it should have, further strengthening Sandorn’s belief about the mysterious man.
It took sometime before they were finally close enough to hear the man’s increasingly heavy breaths. With a last spurt the man bounded off to the left, Averan and Sandorn kept their pace, they knew Gorias’s streets better than anyone, they’d spent their whole lives being chased and giving chase through all of them. They knew instinctively that they had trapped the man in a dead end.
Averan puffed out his cheeks as they finally came to a halt opposite the man.
“Quite a run that was, and a fine leap to go along with it. Were I to guess I would say you were not supposed to be down here with us friend. I reckon you should be up there in the Inner Ring. It can be dangerous for your kind down here. Don’t care much for Lords.”
The stranger seemed composed, he had nowhere to go now, but already he had gotten his breathing under control. Sandorn watched his hands.
“Who are you? And why would one such as you be dealing with the Amata? What business could you have with the underworld.”
“More than you know. You and your brother are not so hidden as you would believe. You know I did wonder when you would show up. You are well known amongst my kind. But most thought you dead. Not me. Still, I congratulate you, you have done well. The new Lords of the Underworld. The twin brothers of House Aureate.”
Sandorn took a step back stunned, Averan’s smile vanished.
Their family name was one they uttered only when they were sure of not being overheard, alone and away from eager ears. No one knew of their true identity. No one had ever spoken their House name to them since their mother died. No one was supposed to know it. Not until they were ready to reveal it.
The man smiled and pulled back his hood, two golden eyes stared back at them. Golden eyes, pure eyes. Eyes of the Forty and of the Chimera.
“Whatever you have planned it won’t work. Your family had its time and it passed. It would be better you forgot the name. Forever. Keep your clan, the Quarter, keep the entire underground too for all I care. But know your place. Your family has limits. And for good reason. If I were you I would leave Gorias and head for a more friendly city. There are those which would welcome you.”
Averan laughed, “You talk a lot for an unarmed man trapped and facing us two, knowing our name will not be enough to stop us killing you. In fact it will only hasten your death. Unless you tell us how it is you came to know such a thing.”
“You know our name, it is only right we should know yours.” Sandorn added.
“No, I think not. It is best you don’t know it.” The man sighed, “You know it would have been far better had the Amata dealt with you. It would have been easier on all of us. Still, it’s done now. Farewell Twins, you will hear from me soon enough.”
They should have expected it, should have known it from the moment they’d seen the man leap from three storeys without injury. The golden eyes should have been the last piece to persuade them. They should have never have let the man transform, should have cut him down where he stood when they had the chance. But they had never faced another of the Beast blood before, never heard their name uttered by any outside of themselves or their Mother. It had unnerved them.
They hesitated and it was enough.
The man leapt and transformed mid air into a Chimera before landing on a nearby roof. Sandorn and Averan both stared in amazement, knowing there were others of your kind was one thing, seeing it up close and in person another.
Averan was the first to rouse himself and would have transformed but Sandorn held him back.
“No, not now. We can’t risk chasing him across the city. There are too many eyes.”
The sun was already beginning its rise. “Our aim was the Amata not that man, whoever he was. We need to think, plan and regroup. Whoever he was they wanted and expected us dead. That we aren’t means we are already ahead. We need to use that.”
Averan looked at him in dismay, “We can take him Sandorn, he is smaller than both of us, I can get him myself.”
“I know you can brother. Truly I do. But think, if we expose ourselves than the City guard will be on us, we won't have figured out who that man is or who he works for or with. There is already too many questions. Let’s not add to them.”
Sandorn felt the muscles in his brother relax.
Averan brushed back the loose strands of hair covering his face, “We are in it now Brother. More enemies that we could have ever imagined and an entire Conspiracy against us. Had I not a Twin I might feel isolated.”
Sandorn smiled, “If you didn’t have me you would be fighting in the pits Brother. Fighting and winning, surrounded by a catalogue of precious whores and fine food and drink.”
“Perhaps, though I doubt I’d have made it so far, remember that incident with me, Tharv and the City guard? Best I could hope for is a dry cell, though the noose would have been more likely.”
Sandorn led the way back out onto the streets, the early morning sun beginning to lighten their path.
He laughed, “As if you would have let it come to that. You’d have let your Beast tear the city to the ground before they lay a finger on you.”
“True,” Averan admitted, “But seeing as it is our city by right I am glad it has not come to that. Yet.”