Treachery's wake

18

Lidda hugged the wall as she moved around the door frame. She crouched low to the ground, circling the table to get herself directly behind the closest of the men seated at the large, round table that filled the room. A rack of weapons hung from the wall opposite the rogue. She found herself wishing that she'd taken more time to study the place before going in. Moving silently and unobserved, she crept along the shadows. "I'm just glad he's down there and we're up-" The maris words dropped away when Lidda struck the base of his skull with her blackjack. His face landed in stacks of silver and copper pieces, scattering them. The other two men jumped back as the nimble halfling sprang from behind the fallen maris chair and launched herself directly across the table. She grabbed the nearest guard by the collar of his leather armor and smashed the blackjack across his face. His head snapped to the side with the impact of the blow, spittle and pieces of his teeth flying from his bloody mouth.

The last one lunged for a short sword that hung on the wall just beyond his reach. His hand closed short of the hilt of the weapon as Lidda's arms closed around his neck. The man spun around to place the rogue between himself and the wall and threw his body backward, crushing the rogue with his weight. The blow pushed the wind from Lidda's lungs. Her arms loosened slightly as she struggled to get a breath. Black spots danced in her vision. She groped for the maris eyes as she felt her ribcage being crushed.

"Malthooz, you fool," she managed to gasp as the guard reached around and grabbed a handful of her hair.

Where is that idiot?

Malthooz ran through the door. He came around the table with his blackjack raised. Desperately, the guard slammed Lidda against the wall again, and she fell to the floor gasping for breath. The man grabbed a weapon from the rack and moved to intercept Malthooz.

"I won't hold it against you if you give up now," the guard said, laughing. "I'm sure we have room for you and your friend downstairs."

He swung the sword. Malthooz leaped back, narrowly avoiding the blade.

"Then again," the guard said, "I could just kill you now and keep the paperwork to a minimum."

Lidda rolled herself over, the handle of the blackjack in her hand. The guard caught her movement in the corner of his eye and spun around. His boot shot out, catching the rogue in the side, but his foot was too slow. The leather weapon flew from Lidda's outstretched arm. It sailed at the maris face, end over end, to strike him in the forehead.

Malthooz jumped forward as the man reacted to the clout. The half-orc grabbed the guard's neck, intending to steady him for a knockout blow. A jolt of energy flowed from his hand and traveled into the maris body. Malthooz yanked his hand away. The man convulsed once and went down.

Lidda got up slowly from the floor, clutching her side, and said, "I may have broken a rib or two."

"Let me," Malthooz said moving to her side.

"Save it. I'm not sure your newfound powers would be enough to deal with this anyway."

They heard the clatter of footsteps coming up the stairs. Lidda grabbed two swords from the rack on the wall and tossed one of the unfamiliar weapons to the half-orc.

"Just swing it like a club," she advised. "We can't be choosy right now. Sounds like a crowd coming up the steps. How much more of that magic do you have in you?"

Malthooz shrugged.

"It just seems to happen," he whispered. "I can't really control it."

"Well, keep it happening," Lidda said.

Malthooz smiled. It was good to have his companion back and to shelve his doubts about her loyalty. Even if they didn't make it out of this place alive, at least he wouldn't die alone. Lidda raised her sword and moved behind the table as the footsteps sounded just outside the door.

Malthooz tensed as the door burst open. He saw Krusk's large form charge through the open portal, followed quickly by Mialee. A moment later, Vadania entered the room. She stopped short and looked over the unexpected scene.

"I thought this escape was too easy to be true," she said.

Krusk seemed to be struggling with whether he should hug Malthooz or strangle Lidda. Instead, he stood dumbfounded, unable to speak.

"We're happy to see you too, Krusk," Lidda said, letting her sword arm fall. She nodded at the unconscious guards lying about the room. "I thought I'd have to put a few more to rest when I heard you coming up the stairs."

"Is this Flint's doing?" Mialee asked.

Lidda nodded. "Yeah, but I think we have more trouble on the way."

"The body in the hallway?" Vadania asked.

"His name is Kargle," Lidda replied. "Doorman from the guild. Apparently he was Flint's right hand man. I wasn't sure if he was a help or a hindrance, but when Malthooz decided we were walking into a trap, I figured it was best to get him out of the way for safety's sake. It just seemed prudent."

"I knew it," Krusk said.

"Yeah," Lidda said with a sigh, "and I should have guessed it. I let myself get too caught up in the idea of joining the guild to see clearly."

"So where's the ambush?" Krusk asked. "Don't try to tell me that Flint expected these three to keep us here."

"No, I think that's what Kargle was for," Lidda said, "but let's not wait around to find out."

"Are you all right to move, Lidda?" Mialee asked.

"I can move," she replied, though the pain in her side grew more acute with each passing minute.

Krusk took a sword from the rack on the wall. He grabbed the hair of the guard who was slumped over the table and pressed the blade against the unconscious maris neck. Lidda grabbed his arm.

"Don't do it Krusk. They're just doing their jobs."

"Was part of that job to harass and insult me?" The barbarian glared momentarily, but withdrew the blade and satisfied himself with slamming the maris face down onto the table. A few coins clattered to the floor. Krusk hit the back of the guard's skull with the pommel of his sword and added, "That's for the gag."

When everyone was armed, they started toward the front doors. At the sound of someone moving behind them, Krusk spun around and saw a door slam shut at the far end of the hallway. The barbarian bolted in pursuit, breaking the door down as he went. The old jailer was huddled in the corner at the far end of the chamber. His whole frame shivered in fear as the barbarian approached him.

"Anything you want," the man pleaded, throwing up his hands.

The others filed in. The place was filled with row upon row of cabinets, each of them clasped and locked.

"Looks like we found our stuff," Lidda said, tossing aside the cheap blade she held.

Krusk grabbed the ring of keys the jailer held out to him.

Cold air greeted them when they emerged from the jailhouse. The marble stairs in front of the building ran down into a broad avenue. Oil-fed lights flickered up and down the lane, casting a pale glow on the cobbled stones that paved the avenue. Though they gave better illumination than the primitive torches that lined the streets in the shabbier quarters, they left much to be desired.

Krusk wiped Kargle's blood from the blade of his dagger and returned it to the sheath on his forearm. He looked at the tall, stone architecture around him as he stood on the top step. The area was far different from the places he was used to, with wooden construction and the bustle of people at all hours. He scanned the windows for signs of life but light glowed in few of them. The barbarian knew enough of cities to know that this part of town was largely abandoned after sundown, its officers and officials having long since conducted their business and gone home to mansions on the hills above the bay. He also knew that the area was likely to be patrolled by at least a modest number of guards.

"Looks like everyone's gone home," Mialee said, joining Krusk at the front of the landing. "I wonder if the guild's influence is enough to keep the eyes of the watch occupied."

"According to the man that Krusk just gutted, it is," Lidda said.

Krusk growled.

"Don't worry, Krusk," the rogue added. "Kargle was no friend of mine. He deserved it."

The barbarian started down the steps and into the street, headed straight for the heart of the market district.

"Where are you going?" Lidda asked, stopping the barbarian short. The quickest way out of the city is over here," she said, pointing in the opposite direction. "We have our chance, let's take it."

But Krusk had been pushed farther than he was willing to be pushed. He knew that the rogue's words made sense, but he refused to let himself see it. The guild had played him for a patsy, and he was going to have revenge. Anyone who got in his way would get bowled over.

"Flint's going to pay with her life before the night is up," he said through clenched teeth.

"Fool," the rogue replied. "You can't get into that guild unless they let you."

Krusk patted the blade of his axe and said, "I have my invitation right here."

"You're both fools," Vadania hissed. She moved down the stairs, her eyes scanning the rooftops nearby. "There's a half dozen places from which we could be fired on and numerous alleyways from which ambush might come. Do you really think Flint would let us go so easily?"

"I'm hoping she wouldn't," Krusk replied.

As Krusk turned away, a crossbow bolt flew past Mialee's head and smashed into the stone doorframe of the jailhouse. Others whistled by and clattered all around the companions. Krusk looked up to see the dark form of a sniper pop up from behind a rooftop parapet and fire on him.

"The rooftops," Krusk hollered, leaping back up the steps for the cover of the doorway.

"Just like I said," Vadania replied. "Are you ever going to learn to listen, Krusk?"

The barbarian growled at the druid, "If you had listened to me from the beginning, we wouldn't be anywhere near here now."

He grabbed the dagger from his forearm, ducked around the corner, and hurled it at the first moving shape he saw. The blade sailed through the darkness to catch the assailant in the throat. A crossbow rattled to the ground, the body of a gnoll right behind it.

"More gnolls!" Krusk snarled. "We finish this now!"

He sprinted out into the street, moving from doorway to doorway down the avenue with the others huddled in a tight knot behind him. Missiles bounced off the stones around them as they moved. Krusk hustled into an alcove and threw his shoulder into a door. The wood splintered as his body impacted the surface, but the frame held. The others squeezed in behind the barbarian.

Lidda jiggled the door handle.

"Locked," she said. "I could pick it but I'm not sure I want to be trapped inside."

Eva Flint cursed under her breath at the incompetence of the gnoll snipers. She looked over at their commander with scorn. Yauktul was squatting behind the parapet with his pack, barking orders through his teeth as they reloaded their weapons. The commander's failure at the camp should have been enough to let the guild master know better than to trust the wretch, but she'd let his success with Wotherwill speak too loudly of him.

Everything about the whole affair would have been easier if things had gone according to plan, if the adventurers had been killed at the outpost or if the city had not come snooping around after Wotherwill was removed from the list of players. Things hadn't gone according to her design, and they continued to go afoul.

"Where the hell is Kargle?" she spat, slamming a gloved fist into the stone battlement. "He was supposed to kill them all inside the jail house."

Between her assassin and the guards, the adventurers should have been easy prey. At least some of them should have died in jail, leaving only a few for the gnolls to finish off. It seemed, however, that nothing but error and folly had befallen her from the start. She was beginning to wonder if the tales of the staff really were true. It certainly seemed to have rattled Yauktul. He'd been useless since his return. He whimpered something about losing his finest troops to the enemy and, judging by the aim of those sniping from the roof, she was inclined to believe him.

All she wanted was the staff's value in gold. Its magic could be damned, as far as she cared. She made a mental note never to work with a wizard again.

Unwilling to peer over the parapet herself lest one of the victims recognized her, she looked over at the gnolls. Yauktul's tongue hung from the side of his snout. He even looked incompetent, Flint thought, nothing like the killer she'd sent out. At least he agreed with her on something. They had to be prepared for the unexpected once the jailbreak began, beyond just the crossbows. If he was useless in every other respect, at least the gnoll was good at agreeing.

"Hold your fire," Flint said, motioning across her neck with a hand. "Let's move into the street. You're accomplishing nothing from here."

The gnolls filed down a ladder into the building. Flint got to her knees and chanced a quick glance over the wall before joining them. She smiled as her foot hit the first rung and she disappeared into the hatch.

Flint had seen the four dark shapes moving down the street toward her targets.