EPISODE THIRTY:
WHISPERS FROM THE PAST, PART 1
The marble floors echoed with the sounds of booted feet as Vash sprinted down the palace corridor. Shouts came from somewhere behind him. He didn’t dare look back. The frantic breaths of his companions were loud all around him, not only from running, but from panic.
The attack had gone all wrong. Locked doors that should have been open. Hallways that should have been empty suddenly had servants wandering about in the dead of night. One wrong turn was all it took. The maid had screamed bloody murder before Pya had silenced her. The alarms sounded, and the palace sprang to life. Guards appeared at every turn, their swords drawn and ready to take on anyone foolish enough to invade their lord’s home.
Jak, running beside him wearing the same dark leathers and carved wooden mask as the rest of them, cursed under his breath. "Where in the hells are Iona and Byar? This was supposed to be fast!"
Vash had no answer. There were supposed to be three teams: Iona was going to lead an attack on the sleeping guards in their barracks. Vash and his team were going to sabotage the gatehouse, making escape easier, and Byar was leading an attack on the Duke himself. It was quick, surgical, and offered vengeance for their friends in Ragpicker’s Hollow.
Something felt strange. Vash couldn’t shake the feeling that this had happened before.
The smell of smoke was filling the air. A fire, somewhere in the castle.
Vash thought.
Pya, ever the pragmatist, called out from behind. "We need to get out of here now. Before they close off all the exits."
“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Vash snapped over his shoulder. The thought of leaving Iona and the others behind twisted his gut, but there was no other choice.
That was one of Byar’s favorite expressions.
Vash tried to remember the layout of the palace. The next corridor should run along the outside wall of the keep. They could drop from a balcony onto the keep’s outer wall and from there out into the city.
“Turn here!”
They rounded the corner just as a trio of guards came out of the apartment at the end of the hallway. The guards skidded to a halt, shock on their face, as the four assassins raced towards them.
Olver reacted first, throwing a dagger with fluid grace. The blade found its mark in a guard's eye and the man crumpled, screaming.
Vash and Lys moved as one, blades whispering out of their scabbards. One guard stared at his fallen companion, jaw slack. The other turned to face the oncoming threat, sword up and ready. Steel clashed against steel as the guard blocked Vash’s first attack, sparks flying in the dimly lit hallway.
The guard was braver than he was skilled. A thrum pulsed in Vash’s Core, and he followed his instincts. He dropped to one knee, ducking under a wild swing; then followed through with a counter-attack, hamstringing his opponent with a quick slice. The guard fell to one knee with a pained grunt. Vash finished him with a slice along the throat, hot blood spattering his gloved hands.
Lys dispatched the last guard with equal efficiency, her short sword finding the gap between helm and gorget. Blood fountained up in a red wave when she withdrew her blade.
"Move!" Vash called, rising to his feet and allowing a quick pulse of mana to flow from his Core into his limbs. Fatigue evaporated, and he was running again.
He burst into the large apartment that the guards had just exited, the team close on his heels. The sitting room was spacious and opulent, rich furniture provided ample seating for almost a dozen people, and sconces on the walls shone with warmly tinted mage lights. Beyond, Vash could see a balcony overlooking the lake.
. Vash thought, but a quiet voice deep inside of him whispered:
"Bar the doors!" He said, already moving to close the heavy oak doors.
Jak joined him, helping to swing the doors shut. Olver grabbed a spear from a display on the wall and jammed it through the door handles.
“That won’t hold them for long.” Jak said. “Help me move some of this furniture.”
Olver and Jak started moving the largest of the sofas over to the door. Vash sheathed his weapons and grabbed an overstuffed chair to stack on their makeshift barricade.
Pya darted past them, already searching for another way out. She disappeared into one bedroom, then the other, before returning with a grim shake of her head. "The door and the balcony are the only ways out."
Shouts came from the hallway beyond, then the sound of boots running in their direction.
Vash cursed under his breath. “Looks like they found the bodies.”
Lys stepped out onto the balcony, leaning over the railing to gauge the drop. "Dammit!"
Vash turned. “What? How far to the curtain wall?”
“There’s no curtain wall.” Lys said, coming to the balcony door. “We’re on the far southern side. It’s a sheer drop to the lake. We’d never survive the fall.”
Olver's breath was coming in short, panicked gasps. "We're trapped. There's no way out. What happened to Byar and the others? We're going to die here!"
“You’re not helping, Olver.” Pya said, her voice cold and calm beneath her smooth featured mask.
Vash looked around the room, his mind racing. The furniture barricade wouldn't hold for long. The balcony was too high, and a fall was a death sentence.
Fists began hammering at the door. The guards had found them. There was no more time to search for an escape route.
"Jak, with me," Vash said, drawing his weapons and taking a position to one side of the rattling door. "We hold the line. No one gets past us."
Jak nodded grimly, his own blades at the ready.
Vash turned to the others. "Pya, have you got anything left? Something to give us an edge."
Pya was already rummaging through her satchel. "I've got a smoke bomb, a sleeping toxin, and a few blade poisons. They won't last long, but they might buy us a few seconds."
"All right, toss the poisons to Jak and Olver." Vash said.
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Pya distributed the vials of oily liquid. “It’s a tanglefoot distillation. Just a scratch should make their muscles seize up.”
Jak nodded his thanks and began spreading the poison over the dark steel of his weapons.
"Olver, find a spot to hide,” Vash said, looking at the youngest and smallest member of their group. “Hit them when they go past. They’re going to be bigger and stronger. Don’t go toe-to-toe."
The mask made seeing Olver’s expression impossible, but Vash could see his hands trembling. Olver slipped behind a tapestry, the folds hiding him from view.
"Lys, you’re the best shot. Take the balcony. Stay out of reach."
Lys was already moving, short bow in hand. She took cover behind the doorjamb, an arrow nocked and ready.
The hammering grew louder; the door shuddering under the onslaught. Furniture scraped across the floor as the barricade shuddered.
Vash's grip tightened on his swords, his knuckles white. Across from him, Jak was still, his stance firm.
For a moment, there was silence. Then a hollow boom, the sound of something heavy hitting the door. Cracks appeared, splinters flew, the wood groaned under the fresh assault.
. Vash thought, offering a prayer to the god of Hunts and Hunters.
The booming strikes against the door came in rhythmic succession, ratcheting the tension with each cracking, shuddering blow. Faintly, Vash could hear raised voices beyond the door. Someone barked a command, and the blows stopped.
Vash held his breath, waiting, nerves stretched taut.
The next sound, although muffled by the doorway, rang out like the peal of a bell. It vibrated the air and he could feel it in his very bones. Vash felt a thrum of response from his Core. Someone on the other side of the door was using a Talent, a powerful one.
A crack like thunder sounded, and the door exploded inwards. The furniture barricade scattered across the floor like children’s toys and the door exploded in a shower of splinters and stone dust. The mage lights winked out as sconces fell from the wall, plunging the room into shadowed moonlight from the open balcony door. Vash turned away from the blast, bits of wood and stone flying, hitting his leathers.
In the doorway, silhouetted by the flickering light of the corridor, stood a tall, armored figure. Vash couldn’t make out any features in the dim light and haze of stone dust. The figure surveyed the room, then hooked the mace he had used to shatter the doors onto his belt. He turned and motioned casually to the guards standing behind him. “Take them.”
Vash met the first guard's gaze as he turned to look into the room. The guard’s face went from awed amazement to a kind of grim pleasure. He spotted Vash and lifted his sword, striding forward confidently.
"Come on, then," Vash muttered under his breath. "Let's dance."
A smoke bomb burst on the floor, filling the room with a thick, choking haze. Vash heard the guards coughing and cursing, their advance faltering as they stumbled over the debris of the shattered door.
Vash reached for his Core, drawing on the well of magic within him, the formula for locking into place in his mind. He felt the others doing the same, their Talents sharpening their senses, allowing them to see through the smoke as if it were nothing more than a light mist.
An arrow whistled through the smoke. The shaft suddenly sprouted from the throat of the lead guard. He gurgled, dropping his sword, hands going to the arrow. Blood bubbled up from his mouth, dribbling out as he slowly sank to his knees. Another whistle of an arrow told Vash that Lys was not pausing to admire her handiwork. This one struck a guard in the thigh. He fell to the ground, a red stain growing on his pants.
Vash and Jak moved forward, smoke covering their advance. A guard, disoriented from the smoke, swung wildly at any shape that he saw in the swirling gray mist. Vash dodged one clumsy blow, then drove his short sword up under the man's chin. He felt the blade grate against bone, then slide free as the guard collapsed, choking on his own blood.
Somewhere to Vash’s right, Jak darted within range of a guard. This one kept his head and didn’t swing at every movement. He waited until he was certain of Jak’s position and attacked. Vash could feel Jak using his Talents to dodge and avoid the guard’s sword. In a surge of mana, Jak writhed like a serpent, avoiding a thrust from the guard, and landed a cut along the man’s ribs. Jak then disengaged, moving out of range.
The guard laughed at the wound, barely more than a scratch. He squinted through the rapidly thinning smoke and spotted Jak. Snarling, the guard moved forward, but after a few steps, his expression changed to one of puzzlement, and then concern. The guard let out a choking cry as his body contorted, his muscles contracting painfully. He whimpered as the force of the contracting muscles began snapping his bones, unable to draw enough breath to scream. Jak stepped back into the fray, ignoring the slowly dying guard writhing on the ground.
A hulking shape burst through the smoke. Heavily muscled and carrying a double-headed battle-axe, the man stood a full head taller than the other guards. Free of the smoke, the guard looked around briefly and spotted Pya. Letting out a wordless battle-cry, the guard charged, lifting his axe for a deadly attack.
Vash moved to intercept, but another guard came charging through the last of the smoke, putting Vash on the defensive. He tried to call out to Pya, but the guard was forcing him to focus all his attention on staying alive.
The massive guard bore down on Pya. She backpedaled, narrowly avoiding the blade of the battle-axe. Pya dropped one of her vials, but the glass didn’t break. She reached for her short sword as the axe came down again. Deftly skipping to one side, Pya barely evaded the guard’s slash. The powerful blow raised spiderweb cracks on the marble floor. The guard grunted in annoyance and turned to face Pya again.
Vash dodged and blocked while trying to keep track of his people.
Have to end this quick. He thought, but the guard was skilled and used to fighting people with Talents, Vash couldn’t find an opening.
There was a slight movement behind a tapestry. A shape was moving close to where Pya was fighting the huge guard.
, Vash thought, .
But Olver was already moving. The young thief burst from his hiding place behind the tapestry, his dagger flashing as he leaped onto the guard's back. The guard roared and thrashed as soon as he felt the weight of Olver land on his back. Olver tried to stab the bigger man, but the guard was wearing heavier leather than the others. Olver’s blade dug in but did not penetrate.
Red-faced with rage, the guard backed into the nearby wall, slamming Olver against the stones with bone-cracking force. Olver cried out, dropping his dagger and almost losing his hold on the guard.
Vash could tell that Olver would not last much longer. Calling on his Core again, Vash pushed mana into Enhance Ability, focusing on speed and agility. The mana flowed slowly, sluggishly; he was running low, he could feel the fatigue of mana burn lurking deep in his soul.
The big guard reached over his shoulder, grabbing hold of Olver and hauled him up and over his head. Olver went flying and landed, sprawling on the floor in front of the hulking guard. Raising his axe again, the guard smirked as Olver tried to crawl away.
A glass vial smashed into the guard’s face, splattering a pale lavender liquid across his mouth and nose. The guard cried out and stumbled away, trying to wipe away the liquid. Pya darted in, grabbing Olver by the arm and dragging him back toward the balcony.
The guard blinked his eyes clear and focused on Pya and Olver. Face contorting in fury, the guard stalked forward, raising his axe again, ready to slash through Pya and Olver with one stroke. Pya stood over Olver, short sword held loosely in one hand as she calmly waited. The guard took another step, blinked, then his eyes rolled back in his head. Like a mighty oak felled by a woodsman, he fell slowly forward, then crashed to the ground.
Vash thought, shifting his focus to his opponent.
Pya and Olver were safe for the moment. Now he had to focus on keeping himself alive. With a deft twist of one hand, Vash slashed across the knuckles of his opponent. The guard yelped in pain and lost his grip. Vash continued the motion and forced the blade to one side. He lunged forward with his off-hand. The dagger punched through the leather armor with ease. The guard gave a choked gasp as Vash buried his blade to the hilt. He looked at Vash as the life left his eyes, a mixture of fear and surprise.
Freeing his dagger, Vash stepped back, ready to face the next threat. To his surprise, he found the doorway empty. A haze of smoke still lingered just beyond the shattered doors, obscuring the hallway beyond. Vash blinked. His fading mana was no longer enough to power his enhanced senses.
“Is that it?” Jak asked cautiously. He had cuts on his sleeves and bloody wounds underneath. His hood had fallen back, revealing sweat-soaked brown hair tied in a loose tail.
Pain bloomed on Vash’s arms and legs. Wounds that he hadn’t noticed suddenly made themselves known. None were immediately life-threatening, so he ignored them. Silence stretched except for the ragged breaths of Vash and his companions.
. Vash thought. —
“Knights!” a voice called out from somewhere beyond the smoke. “Form ranks!”
A chorus of voices said as one. “”
Vash's heart sank as the smoke finally dissipated. Men in chainmail, with armored vambraces and greaves, crowded the hallway. They wore crimson surcoats and carried shields bearing the same device, a half-black and half-white star on a field of crimson.
The Knights of the Hidden Star.
From somewhere deep in Vash's mind, something whispered. A voice that he didn't recognize, but one that seemed to know him quite well.
