Night guild 2, p.8
Night Guild 2, page 8
Tales began to spread in the docks about the snows and storms that might happen in the north this time of year and of the barbarians in the mysterious isle of Grandon to the north-west, who were migrating south now, like the birds, both birds and men moving into north-western Lithia to seek refuge from the harsh winters and from the Norskand raiders who were known to attack the Grandonic coastline this time of year.
On the deck of the merchant vessel Ged’s Good Fortune, the three assassins knelt together in prayer near the bow as Ged, the ship’s captain, directed the crew in their work of setting sail.
The salty sea spray stung their faces as the wind ruffled their deep-purple robes, the signature color worn by those who belonged to the temple of the Merchant Trader God, Anaxis—the biggest temples of the Twelve Isles. The robes were a convenient disguise and made it difficult for anyone to trace them; there were so many priests of Anaxis in Trentum and in Oretum that three more would go unnoticed.
They prayed together, silently, and everyone assumed that they prayed to Anaxis. They were not. Communicating silently through their mind link, Ronan and his companions prayed in unison to the Night God, asking for his blessing for their mission and for the strength, cunning, and courage to face whatever challenges they might meet.
The ship heaved through the swelling breakers as it moved away from the docks and out into the open sea. The bright sun cast roaming shadows across the decks, bobbing crazily at first, then calming down as the ship moved out into deeper water. The sails snapped and caught the wind, and the long, narrow bow knifed through azure waves to cut a frothing trail as the boat followed her course.
“We’ll do well today, priests,” Captain Ged said amiably as the three disguised assassins rose from their prayers and went to stand by the rail to look out over the water. “The wind is behind us, and we should land in Port Fero by early evening, unless it changes. Will you be needing accommodation tonight? I know a man in the port who can sort you out. Good rooms, clean beds, and a hearty meal—I know how much you priests like your comforts! No offense meant, of course…”
“None taken, Captain,” Ronan said, “and thank you, but we already have accommodations. When we land, we will be on our way.”
“Ah, very well,” the captain said, looking a little disappointed—no doubt he earned a commission from the man in the port for any of his passengers that stayed at the recommended inn. “Well, I’ll leave you to it for now. Come and find me if you need anything.”
He strode off, and shortly afterward they heard him extolling the virtues of the Port Fero inn to a group of linen merchants who leaned on the rail not far from where the assassins stood.
Ged’s Good Fortune, a small, well-built craft, was made for speed rather than to carry a lot of cargo. She made the hundred-mile round trip from the Twelve Isles to Port Fero once a day, mainly carrying passengers to and from Viam, the largest city on the Oretum peninsula.
The Oretum peninsula stuck out into the warm waters of the enclosed Middle Sea, reaching out from the south coast of continental Lithia. The Twelve Isles archipelago was situated a little more than halfway down the peninsula’s western coast. An important trading route for all of the surrounding countries, the Middle Sea was almost entirely enclosed by the great continental landmass. Lithia lay to the north and west, Afrik to the south, and Arban to the east. A wide channel between Afrik and Lithia in the west provided the only access for shipping out into the Atlan Sea, an enormous ocean. Supposedly, if one were to continue north, until the sea met land, they would find Nova Mundi, the new world, an enormous land barely explored.
Oretum, enclosed on all sides to the south, west, and east by the waters of the middle sea, and to the north by the enormous mountain range known as the Albus, the White Mountains. By virtue of this geography, Oretum had grown into a country with its own unique character and history and less connected to the shared history and influences of the rest of the kingdoms of Lithia. Like the Twelve Isles, Oretum was ruled by a council elected by a popular ballot from the wealthier citizens of the country’s three biggest cities.
The largest of these cities was the merchant city of Viam, which held the great majority of Oretum’s population. Goods flowed in from all around and then left again from the great ports at Fero and Avetum on the west coast, and Marula on the east. The assassins’ point of destination was Port Fero, the nearest port to Viam City.
“Where will we go when we get in?” Diana asked quietly now that the officious ship’s captain had moved out of earshot.
“Perhaps we should have taken Captain Ged up on his offer,” Eric said with a dry laugh.
Ronan smiled at him. The blond man seemed to be easing up a little. Ever since they had discovered the three dragons eggs and were sent on this mission to discover what the Silent Brotherhood was up to, Eric seemed to have mellowed. Though most of the time he maintained his cold, emotionless exterior, now he sometimes joked and even laughed. Ronan felt glad to see the change, however small.
However, Eric’s fanaticism for the Night God remained undimmed. He had protested when Ronan proposed they dress in the robes of the priests of a different god, saying that it would be disrespectful to the Night God. Only after he had gone away by himself and prayed did Eric seem to become comfortable with the idea. He informed them that he had asked the Night God for guidance and that so long as he did not wear the talisman of another god, there would be no offense taken.
“I think,” Ronan said, “that when we get into Port Fero our first action should be to seek out the temple of the Malachites. The High Vizier of the Malachites is almost certainly the destination of the Silent Brotherhood assassins. We may find a clue to their whereabouts in their temple.”
They were on the sea for most of the day. The weather and the wind held, and as the sun began setting, a glowing ball of fire on the western horizon, the busy harbor of Port Fero came into view.
A city all of its own, Port Fero was a bustling trade hub with unique character and its own independent administration. Here, the rules were set by the city council, elected from the ranks of the wealthiest and most successful traders. Hugging a wide, sheltered anchorage, buildings in the city were made of wood and red brick; they climbed up the steep slopes of the surrounding hills and looked down on the busy waters below.
Hundreds of ships of all shapes and sizes homed in the harbor. Ronan pointed out the largest to Diana and Eric as they passed.
“Those are the big merchant traders that venture out into the Atlan Sea up the western coast of Lithia, to the ports of Francum, and even as far as the isle of Grandon,” he said. “And look over there, a warship!”
They all observed the sleek, red-painted hull of the fighting vessel. Ballistae and armored soldiers crowded her deck, and the crew looked to be fierce men who could easily handle a fight. The ship slowly began pulling out of the dock as Ged’s Good Fortune drew closer. Passing so near to the warship, they could see that the timbers—and the men on board—were heavily scarred from their many years of being at sea.
“I wonder who they are going to fight?” Diana mused. “There is no war in the Middle Sea these days.”
“There are pirates in the east and south,” Ronan said. “I’ve heard that the north coast of Afrik is plagued by pirates, as well as the islands south and east of the Twelve Isles. Perhaps that ship has been hired to deal with pirates.”
Ged’s Good Fortune slipped through the crowded waters easily, her crew handling the sails, while the captain took the wheel as they steered into their berth. They thanked Captain Ged, and Diana handed him a small bag of gold ducats to show their gratitude. His eyes widened as he peeked inside the bag, and he bowed deeply.
“Thank you, good masters, thank you,” he said. “If you ever need any help with accommodations on shore, give the dockmaster my name!”
The three assassins were first to leave the ship when the gangplank was lowered. There were twenty-two other passengers onboard, by Ronan’s count. He had observed them all carefully, just on the off chance that any of them were of interest to their mission, but the passenger boats from Twelve Isles to Oretum were a regular feature of life, so none of them had reason to be suspicious of fellow travelers.
Ronan and the others hurried through the streets of the crowded port area. While Port Fero was independent of Viam City, it was also the nearest port and nearly all traffic from Port Fero flowed directly up the three miles of wide road that led to Viam proper. The assassins walked along the harbor until they saw a likely inn—a cheap, unpretentious-looking place with a sign above the door emblazoned with the words The Merry Sailor.
They entered and took a seat, ordering plates of stew, fresh bread, fruit, and the local pulped apple drink that was the non-alcoholic specialty of Oretum. A large number of different kinds of folk filled The Merry Sailor—locals taking a drink and a meal after a day’s work, foreign travelers in exotic clothes, and merchants, priests, and tradespeople from many different guilds, as well as the other folk who crowd a busy trading port. Everyone jostled together companionably in the dim, smoky common room, and the young folk who served the food and drink rushed from table to table to see to the needs of their patrons.
The atmosphere was pleasant and the talk loud enough that it would hide any conversation between the three assassins. Despite the fact that they were skilled at the thought transference way of communicating, Ronan, Eric, and Diana had agreed that they would keep that way of talking to a minimum. They did not know what powers the Silent Brotherhood assassins had, and the old crone’s mind fogging trick had made them wary. There was always the possibility that the crone had other powers and could pick up stray pieces of their conversations without them realizing it. With enough pieces, she might be able to outmaneuver them.
“From what my informant in the Twelve Isles said,” Diana mused as they sat back after finishing their meals. “It sounded as if the old crone is dead, as if the Silent Brotherhood assassins carried her out of the apartment as a corpse. Perhaps she died while they were in Trentum and that’s why they fled.”
“That’s true,” Ronan said, “but think of that coffin and of what Guildsman Seth said. He said there was some kind of necromancy going on, and I agree with him. Just because the crone appeared dead doesn’t mean that is the reality. What if she is some kind of spirit that’s only activated at certain times of day, or maybe something else is possible, something equally strange. We can’t rely on any theories we might come up with at this point. Let’s keep our minds open.”
“That makes sense,” Diana said, nodding. “Whatever was going on with that coffin, it was not anything normal. We should restrain ourselves from theorizing and focus on the job at hand.”
“I think one of us should stay here on the docks,” Eric said. “Three will be too many for trying to infiltrate the Malachites’ temple, and there may be some information we can find by keeping eyes and ears open here on the docks, near to the main traffic of people coming and going.”
“Okay, that sounds like a good idea. Will you do that?” Ronan said.
Eric nodded. “I think I would be the best fit for it. My hair and pale skin make me stand out as a foreigner, and those from other places will be less likely to raise eyebrows or attract unwanted interest here on the docks than in the city itself.”
“That’s decided, then,” Ronan said. “Eric, you will stay here on the docklands and look for information, while Diana and I will infiltrate the temple. I propose that we start at once.”
They set out immediately. Eric left first, explaining that he planned to use his disguise as a priest to wander around the docks and talk to people.
“Folks expect to see a wandering priest in a place like this,” he had said. “Nobody will look twice at me for being here, and priests are such notorious gossips. People may be willing to open up and get to talking about any strange characters they might have seen. I hope to have some information by the morning. How long do you think you will be in your part of the mission?”
“It's hard to say,” Ronan said thoughtfully, “but I think if we agree to meet back here in the morning, that will be enough.”
“Very well,” Eric said. “In case you do end up back here before morning, I’ll keep an eye on this inn, if I can, so if you need to meet me, come back here. Until we meet again, we should only use our telepathic communication power in an absolute emergency.”
“Very good,” Ronan said.
“Good luck, Eric,” Diana said. Eric stood and nodded farewell to them, and then headed out of the inn.
Ronan and Diana waited twenty minutes for Eric to get on his way before standing, paying the bill, and making their way outside.
“As far as I understand things,” Ronan said as they went out on their way, “the temple of the Malachites is not a single building, rather it's like a city within a city. It’s huge and has its own guards and security personnel. There’s at least one high wall guarding it from intrusion by outsiders, and possibly two walls. There’s a moat, and I’ve even heard there’s some kind of magical creature that guards the inside of the building—a giant dog or something of the kind, I don’t exactly know for sure.”
“It certainly sounds like a challenge for us,” Diana said. “We will have to use all of our ingenuity and tactics to get inside.”
“And we are not even sure of exactly what we are looking for,” Ronan said with a grim chuckle. “Evidence that the assassins of the Silent Brotherhood have been there, I suppose, but it seems unlikely that we will find such evidence easily.”
As he finished speaking, they had a stroke of luck. Diana gripped his arm and pointed ahead. “Look there,” she hissed in an urgent whisper. “Don’t you recognize him? Or at least his robe?”
“Surely not,” Ronan replied in amazement, but it was true, there was no doubt about it. Up ahead, striding up the busy thoroughfare toward Viam, they saw a tall man who wore the very distinctive, gray robe with the hood thrown up.
“Is it one of them?” Diana asked.
“I don’t know for sure,” Ronan said, “but let's keep an eye on him. He's going the same direction as us, anyway, and he’s moving fast. Do you think he’s alone?”
“I don't see anybody else with him,” Diana said, and Ronan had to agree. The tall, gray-clad figure walked alone.
“Let’s keep him in sight but not get too close,” Ronan said. “I don’t think I would recognize him anyway; they were all wearing masks every time I got close to them.”
Ronan and Diana kept a discreet distance from the man the whole way up the road, watching him but not getting too close. They did not want to run the risk of him seeing them at this stage in their mission, if at all.
“I wish we could contact Eric and let him know,” Diana said.
“Not worth the risk,” Ronan said, shaking his head. “He will be okay. If this is one of our Silent Brotherhood assassins, then the others will almost certainly be in the city, and I suspect they will be sticking close to the docks. If Eric does find them—and I’m sure he will, if they are there to be found—then I am confident he can look after himself.”
The road from Port Fero to Viam wound up through the tightly packed buildings that clustered on the slope up from the sea and then crested the hill and plunged downward again. Viam occupied a wide river valley surrounded by low hills, and as they came out over the Crest of the Ridge, they saw the whole city spread out before them, largely made of white stone with red-tiled roofs much like the Twelve Isles.
However, unlike the Twelve Isles, most of the buildings in Viam were large indeed—a minimum of four stories. In Trentum most buildings were only two or three stories at the most. Here, tall stone towers and impressive domed roofs were scattered throughout the city, and as evening fell the whole city came aglow with thousands of lights.
The road stayed busy even at this hour. People on foot or riding horses; some were pushing or pulling wagons and handcarts, or were driving oxen, cattle, or sheep. Some rode in large and opulently covered carriages, which were pulled by gleaming matched horses, hitched in pairs and driven by extravagantly attired footmen. Apparently, all classes of wealth were on show in Viam City.
They had no easy task in keeping track of the gray-cloaked stranger in the midst of this press, but they managed it. The crowd allowed them to get a bit closer without worrying as much about being spotted, since there were so many folk all going in the same direction.
After half an hour, it became clear that their target was headed to the temple of the Malachites. The temple reared up out of the cluster of stately, brightly-lit buildings. Its enormous square towers, grand pillars, and massive central dome could be seen from miles away. As they got closer, it became clear that the Malachite temple was indeed a city within a city.
The surrounding buildings gave way to tended gardens, all lit by bright lamps on poles spaced along wide paths. The mechanism by which these lamps worked was not clear. Mysteriously, the light was white, rather than the ruddy, warm light of a flame.
The park was full of people taking their ease. The citizens of Viam city, and the many visitors who pass through the city, all made the gardens of the Malachite temple an essential item on their itinerary. Though busy, the park was less crowded than the road to the city had been. Ronan and Diana fell back a little way as they activated their stealth fields and kept an eye on their quarry while staying aware of their surroundings.
One single, wide-paved road ran straight through the gardens. As they followed the Silent Brotherhood assassin along this road, they saw the outer walls of the Malachite temple rearing up to an enormous height at the end of the road. The white wall glowed with a strange radiance in the gloom of the night. Beyond it, the enormous dome of the central temple could be seen, along with many smaller towers and domes.
