Queen of the Night Guild, page 20
part #3 of Queen of Thieves Series
Ten Journeymen—eight men and two women—wearing the green-trimmed robes of House Serpent fixed her with venomous, hate-filled glares.
“What have you done, Ilanna?” the foremost, a Journeyman she recognized as Verum, demanded. “Bringing the Watcher-damned Praamian Guard and Arbitors? When Errik told us what you said—”
“What would you have done, Verum?” She met his furious glare with icy resolve. She wouldn’t let them see how she truly felt. They needed to believe that she believed she was doing the right thing. “I couldn’t very well drive the Bloody Hand out by myself. Not with the Bloodbears, Hounds, and Foxes working with them.”
“Not all,” Verum corrected. “Half the Foxes have barricaded themselves in the Den, refusing to fight. The Bloodbears have been beating at the doors for over an hour. Were they not so distracted here…”
“And the Grubbers?” she asked.
“Spineless as expected.” Verum shook his head. “Fighting when they must, surrendering when they can, hiding in their holes to avoid the fight.”
Ilanna nodded. Better than I could hope. Without the Foxes and Grubbers, the Bloody Hand and their allies in House Hound and Bloodbear numbered only a few dozen more than the combined Arbitors and Praamian Guards. Given how many had fallen in the last hours, her hopes of cleansing the Guild could still be realized.
She glanced over Verum’s shoulder. “Is this all of you?”
The Serpent winced. “A few more holding House Hawk and House Scorpion.”
Captain Rodar shouldered her aside. “Throw down your weapons and surrender to the King’s justice.”
“Not gonna happen.” Verum tightened his grip on his twin swords and studied the Duke’s men. “Eighteen of you and ten of us. I’d take those odds any day. More so, given you’ve an army of Bloodbears and Bloody Hand not twenty paces down that tunnel.”
Captain Rodar’s face paled a shade, but he stepped forward.
“They’re on our side, Captain.” Ilanna slithered around the bulky Arbitor to stand between him and the Serpents.
“They’re thieves,” Captain Rodar sneered, “just like you. Not a chance I’ll accept any of you are on our side.”
“We’re assassins, actually.” Verum bared his teeth in a vicious grin.
Ilanna shot a glare at Verum before turning back to Captain Rodar. “They want the Bloody Hand out of these tunnels as much as you do. For now, that means we’re working toward a common goal.” Captain Rodar opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off. “Try to arrest them and I guarantee they’ll cut you down where you stand. You might take a few with you, but there’s no way your wounded, tired men can defeat ten Serpents.”
The Arbitors and Praamian Guards bristled, tightening their grips on their weapons.
“Or,” she continued, “you can let them fight the Bloody Hand and Bloodbears for you. You can always try to arrest them later.”
She turned to Verum. “Can you get around behind them? Flank them, catch them from the rear?”
The Serpent scrunched his face. “I think so. Give us ten minutes to get in place.”
Ilanna nodded. She ached to ask about Errik, but not where Captain Rodar could hear. No sense revealing her friend’s location to the Duke’s man.
“Fight well, Hawk.” Verum winked and led the Serpents away.
Captain Rodar took a half-step forward, then caught himself. With a resigned expression, he turned to his men. “If these bastards are half as good as they think they are, we’ve a chance of getting through. Let’s hope Loralt and his platoon don’t dawdle.”
Eighteen Arbitors and Praamian Guards took up their positions: a row of shields in the front, swords behind, and a third row wielding long spears. A ragged formation, but it would have to suffice until Lieutenant Loralt arrived with reinforcements.
After a few minutes respite, the Captain gave the order to advance. He turned a glare on Ilanna. “You’d better pray they come through, thief. You’re as good as dead if they don’t.”
Ilanna shrugged. “They’ll be there.” She could only hope the Serpents found a clear path behind the Bloodbears and Bloody Hand.
Ten paces up the path, they ran into a group of thugs—Praamian and Voramian—charging down the tunnels. The cries of the Bloody Hand and Bloodbears set the earthen walls trembling. A group of grim-faced Hounds followed, with skittish, hesitant Foxes in the rear. More than a few of the orange-robed Journeymen fled before the two forces collided.
The thugs barreled into the shield walls with flying clubs and flashing swords and daggers. Steel and wood collided with unarmored flesh. A pair of Bloody Hand thugs buried a Praamian Guard beneath their bulk. The shield wall collapsed as another olive-clad guardsman stumbled over a slain thug. The line of swordsmen held. Barely.
The Praamian Guards abandoned their spears and waded into the fray with darting blades. Their discipline held, but the fury of the Bloody Hand and Bloodbears threatened to engulf them. Ilanna’s chest tightened. They wouldn’t survive much longer.
An enraged shout echoed behind the wall of attackers. Ten Serpents lent their blades and skill to the battle, falling on the Bloody Hand and traitorous Guild members from behind. The Foxes threw down their weapons in surrender. The Hounds met the charge with drawn steel.
No one could accuse House Hound of cowardice, but they were bounty hunters and trackers. House Serpent trained their Journeymen and apprentices to bring death. The assassins in green-trimmed robes hacked through their Hound comrades with only one casualty. Though they attempted to disable and incapacitate, the Serpents killed when necessary. The Hounds lay dead or unconscious before the Bloodbears realized the danger.
The Journeymen of House Serpent fought the Bloodbears without mercy. They made no attempt to incapacitate or disable, but cut down the men in red-trimmed robes where they stood. Ilanna felt a grim satisfaction to watch the Bloodbears fall. Every one of them reminded her of Sabat’s cruelty. The Guild would be better off with one fewer House.
The arrival of the Serpents caught the Bloody Hand off-guard as well. More than a few turned toward the screams and shouts behind them. The distraction cost the Voramians dearly. The Praamian Guards and Arbitors drove into the ranks of thugs, short swords flashing. Within minutes, the tunnel stood empty save for the Duke’s men and the nine remaining Serpents.
“Go!” Ilanna called to Verum before Captain Rodar tried to have them arrested. “Reinforce House Hawk and House Scorpion.”
Verum gave a salute of his bloodstained blade and sprinted away, his Serpents in tow.
Captain Rodar’s glare could have melted steel. Ilanna spoke before he could. “They’re better off turning their blades on the Bloodbears and Bloody Hand. You’ve few enough men as is.”
As if on cue, Lieutenant Loralt’s platoon charged around a bend in the tunnels.
“Captain!” The lieutenant saluted with a fist over his heart.
“Loralt, how goes the fighting?” Captain Rodar demanded.
“Better than anticipated, Captain. Third Platoon holds the House of Grubbers, and Tenth Platoon should have dealt with the last of the Hounds.”
“Seventh and Eighth?” The two platoons had taken heavy losses outside Master Gold’s chambers.
“Holding, sir,” Loralt said. “They’ve pushed back the Voramians, and most of the Guild have fled into the big room.”
“The Menagerie?” Ilanna asked.
The lieutenant cast a disdainful glance at her. “Sure.”
Ilanna turned to Captain Rodar. “Once House Bloodbear falls, the Menagerie is the last real obstacle. The Serpents will deal with the remaining Bloody Hand in House Scorpion and House Hawk.” She had no doubt Verum and his men could evade the Arbitors and Praamian Guards. “If your other companies—”
“You’re letting the thief tell you what to do?” Lieutenant Loralt’s eyebrows shot up.
“This thief is the only one who knows how to navigate these damned tunnels,” Ilanna retorted. “Who knows how many of you I’ve saved? Unless you enjoy wandering lost for hours.”
“Enough!” Captain Rodar’s voice cracked like a whip. “She’s our guide, Loralt. And I’m giving the commands.” He loomed over Ilanna. “Which way to this Menagerie?”
Ilanna hesitated a moment before nodding toward the left-hand passage. “There.”
Lieutenant Loralt crooked a thumb over his shoulder. “First Platoon’s a few minutes behind, Captain.”
Captain Rodar shook his head. “We move now. They’ll catch up.”
Smart man. The less time the Bloody Hand had to dig in, the easier it would be to root them out.
Dread sat like a stone in the pit of her stomach. The fight in the Menagerie would be brutal and bloody at best. If Rhynd pulled his men back into the big room, he’d have enough to hold the three entrances. The Arbitors and Praamian Guards would eventually break through, but the Voramians would take a toll in blood for every step they gave.
More Praamians would die for the Bloody Hand’s greed.
Chapter 25
Captain Rodar signaled a halt as they rounded the corner. The double doors to the Menagerie stood twenty paces away, shut and no doubt barred from the inside. Row after row of hastily erected barricades—furniture from the various Houses—blocked the path. Almost seventy Bloody Hand, Bloodbears, and Hounds crouched behind the obstructions.
“Shields, forward!”
Three ranks of shield-bearing Praamian Guards stepped forward. Captain Rodar had absorbed Loralt’s platoon into the ragged remnants of his own. Two lines of spearmen stepped close behind, flanked on either side by fifteen men wielding crossbows. The defenders outnumbered the Duke’s men, and they held the barricade.
A few Hounds loosed crossbow bolts at the approaching Arbitors and Praamian Guards. Most of the missiles clattered off the enormous rectangular shields, but one bolt zipped through a gap in the shield wall. The missile punched through a Praamian Guard’s breastplate, sinking into bone and muscle. The olive-clad man fell with a cry. Fifteen crossbows, fired from each end of the line, replied, and the enemy archers went down, caught in the crossing fire.
As the crossbowmen reloaded, the shield wall advanced at a slow, steady pace. Something dark hurtled through the air to shatter against the center of the front rank. Acid hissed, and men screamed as the reek of burning wood, metal, and flesh rose into the air. House Scorpion’s concoctions, no doubt taken by force, did their wicked work. Three Praamian Guards fell, shrieking and wiping frantically at the liquid eating through their clothes, hair, and skin.
“Now!”
The shield wall split down the center, and a column of spearmen charged through the gap. The longer spears enabled the Praamian Guards to attack over the barricade. The Bloodbears and Hounds holding the foremost rank tried in vain to stem the advance. They died where they stood, never giving a step.
The foremost rank of Praamian Guards advanced, and the spearmen slipped back behind the shield wall. With a slow, steady rhythm, the Duke’s men advanced around and over the obstacles of the first barricade. A few haphazard bolts whistled toward them, slamming into the shields or flying high as the increasing panic of the untrained men impaired their aim. Before the opposing forces could take advantage of the momentary disorder caused by crossing the first barricade, the Praamian Guards and Arbitors had formed a new battle line.
At Captain Rodar’s barked order, the shield-bearers knelt and the crossbowmen fired. The thugs holding the next row of barricades died beneath a fresh wave of bolts. The Praamian Guards’ spears finished off the survivors.
Pace by pace, the Duke’s men drove the Bloody Hand and Night Guild back. Blood, guts, and fluids emptied from loosening bowels turned the hard-packed earth slick. The cries of the wounded and dying grew louder as the Arbitors and Praamian Guards advanced. Relentless, inexorable, unforgiving. Those who resisted died; too few threw down their weapons in surrender.
Captain Rodar and Lieutenant Loralt shouted orders, reforming the battle lines each time it threatened to break. When a man in the front rank fell, the rank behind stepped forward to fill the gap. The men in the rear ranks dragged the wounded to the relative safety of the rear. The Duke’s men climbed over the barricades or simply smashed through them. The thugs, thieves, and bounty hunters stood no chance against the Duke’s disciplined guards. By the time Captain Rodar’s platoon reached the final row of barricades—the largest and most heavily defended—they’d lost eight men to the Bloody Hand and Night Guild’s thirty.
“Throw down your weapons!” Ilanna called to the handful of Foxes and Hounds casting uneasy glances at the larger Bloodbears and Bloody Hand thugs. “Surrender and you will be allowed to live.”
“Stand where you are!” roared a massive Voramian. “First man to desert his post dies.”
“Is that how you want the Guild run?” Ilanna thrust a finger at the huge thug. “Commanded like common scum, threatened, and killed? You are Journeymen of the Night Guild. You do not answer to the accursed Bloody Hand.”
Her words had little effect. A few of the Foxes on the outermost edges of the barricades sprinted away, but the rest remained in place. The Bloody Hand had instilled such fear in them that they would choose death over disobedience. Perhaps they believed the Bloody Hand could win. They still outnumbered Captain Rodar’s platoon.
Ilanna sighed. They’ve no idea what’s coming for them.
A tense silence hung thick in the tunnels. For a single heartbeat, not a muscle moved. The world seemed to hold its breath.
Captain Rodar’s command shattered the stillness. “Advance!”
The Praamian Guard marched toward the barricade, their shield wall thinned but holding. The Bloody Hand met them with defiant battle cries and insults.
Chaos and death reigned in the Night Guild. The din of battle echoed from the hard-packed earthen walls. Men shouted, screamed, and wailed. Swords rose and fell, severing fingers, biting into flesh, and piercing organs. Bones shattered beneath the impact of wooden clubs. The stink of blood and dying men filled the tunnels. Praamian Guards and Arbitors fell beside thieves and thugs.
The doors of the Menagerie flew open and out spilled scores of Bloody Hand and Bloodbears. Men clad in Arbitor blue and Praamian Guard olive appeared from side passages and clashed into the ranks of defenders from either side. The thugs, facing forward to attack the organized line, were caught off-guard. The Bloody Hand fell by the score, the Night Guild falling with them.
Ilanna hung back from the battle, seeking her opening. Captain Rodar’s attention remained firmly fixed on the battle, but Lieutenant Loralt never took his eyes from her. His sword hovered a hand’s breadth from her back. If she tried to run, he would cut her down before she took three steps.
She could hold her own in a street fight, but this was battle on a much grander scale than she could comprehend. She could do nothing but stand and watch as Praamians and Voramians hacked each other to pieces.
Her opening came when the lieutenant rushed to plug a gap in the ranks of spearmen. Without hesitation, Ilanna darted backward and down the corridor. Captain Rodar’s furious shout echoed behind her. Half-expecting to hear Arbitors in pursuit, she poured on the speed.
Darting around a corner, she charged down a side tunnel that led toward House Hound. She could cut through the narrow side passages already cleared by the Duke’s men, skirt the tunnels near House Hound, and find her way to House Hawk. She had to hope all the Arbitors and Praamian Guards had joined the battle at the Menagerie. If she ran into a platoon now, they would arrest or kill her on sight.
The Mistress’ luck favored her. She had only the bodies of fallen thugs, thieves, and guards for companions as she sprinted through the tunnels. Hope soared within her. If she could get to House Hawk, she could climb the Perch and slip out the window at the top. The Duke’s men would never catch her on the Hawk’s Highway. She had to reach her safe house and retrieve the item she’d taken from the Duke’s cabinet in Grand Reckoner Edmynd’s vault. It would save the Night Guild. At least she hoped it would.
The clash of weapons grew louder as she approached House Hawk. Ten Bloodbears battered at the double doors to the Aerie, while a dozen Bloody Hand thugs fought off three men in the green-trimmed robes of Serpents. A handful of corpses—most Voramian, but two familiar Serpent faces—littered the ground.
Fury raged within Ilanna’s chest. The Bloody Hand had tortured and killed Prynn, burned down her home with Ria and Kodyn still in it, and murdered dozens of her comrades and friends. Including Master Hawk. Because of them, too many of the Night Guild had and would die at the hands of the Arbitors and Praamian Guards. How many more would swing from a noose or drown in the Field of Mercy? The Duke wouldn’t simply release them. He held the Night Guild in his hands; he would use the opportunity to cleanse the city. All because the Bloody Hand wanted to expand their power to Praamis.
She would not let that stand. She charged with a piercing scream, hurling two throwing daggers. A Voramian fell, gagging on the steel buried in his throat. She ducked beneath the wild swing of a club and hacked the thug’s leg open. The thug fell with a scream, dark blood gushing from the severed artery. She parried a blow, knocked a second strike wide, and drove the tip of her short sword between her opponent’s ribs.
Instincts honed through years of training with Errik kicked in. She moved with grace and agility, dodging, ducking, and deflecting heavy strikes. Like the Bloodbears, the thugs before her relied on strength and fury instead of skill. She could not meet the Bloody Hand blow for blow, but she could outsmart them. She leapt back, opening a gap in the battle line. The Serpent beside her chopped down the thug that stumbled forward. She deflected the strike aimed at the Serpent’s back and laid open the Voramian’s forearm to the bone. A vicious kick to his face sent him reeling into the Bloodbears.
Ilanna’s arrival gave the Serpents the edge. Within minutes, the Bloody Hand lay at their feet. The Bloodbears dropped their battering ram and drew wooden clubs. Ilanna singled out a big, red-faced Bloodbear wearing a pair of brass knuckles. The weapons reminded her of the days she’d spent avoiding Sabat in the Menagerie. Sabat, then known as Twelve, had destroyed a straw training dummy with a similar pair. Ilanna felt only grim satisfaction as she cut the man down.
