Theft of Swords (The Riyria Revelations #1-2)

“Even animals give signs about what they will do. They hunch up, twist and shift their weight, just like people. Such signals do not have to be obvious. Most skilled fighters will try to mask their intentions or, worse, purposely try to mislead you. They want to confuse your timing, throw you off balance, and make an opening for themselves. Of course, this is exactly what you want to do to them. If done well, your opponent sees the false move, but not the attack. The result—in your case—is a headless flying serpent.

“The last thing to learn is the hardest. It can’t be taught. It can barely be explained. It is the idea that the fight—the battle—doesn’t really exist so much in your hands or your feet, but in your head. The real struggle is in your own mind. You must know you are going to win before you start the fight. You have to see it, smell it, and believe it utterly. It is a form of confidence, but you must guard against overconfidence. You have to be flexible—able to adapt in an instant and never allow yourself to give up. Without this, nothing else is possible. Unless you believe you’ll win, fear and hesitation will hold you down while your opponent kills you. Now, let’s get a couple of stout sticks and we will see how well you listened.”





That night they lit the bonfires once more and everyone stayed sheltered in either the manor house or the cellar of the smokehouse. Royce and Hadrian were the only two moving outside and even they remained in the shelter of the smokehouse doorway, watching the night by bonfire light.

“How’s Thrace doing?” Royce asked, his eyes on the sky.

“Great considering the fact that she broke a tree branch with her head,” Hadrian replied as he sat on a barrel, cleaning a mutton bone of the last of its meat. “I even heard she was walking around asking to help with dinner.” He shook his head and smiled. “That girl, she’s something, that’s for sure. Hard to imagine it seeing her under that arch in Colnora, but she’s tough. The real change is in the old man. Theron says they plan on leaving in a day or two, as soon as Thrace can travel.”

“So we’re out of a job?” Royce feigned disappointment.

“Why, were you getting close?” Hadrian asked, throwing the bone away and wiping his hands on his vest.

“Nope. I can’t figure out how to reach it.”

“Tunnel?”

“I thought of that, but I’ve been over every inch of the forest and the rocks and there’s nothing; no cave, no sunken dell, nothing that could be confused with a tunnel. I’m completely stumped on this.”

“What about Esra? Doesn’t the wizard have any ideas?”

“Maybe, but he’s being elusive. He’s hiding something. He wants access to that tower but won’t say why and avoids direct questions about it. Something happened to him here years ago. Something he doesn’t want to talk about. But maybe I can get him to open up more tomorrow if I let him know the Woods no longer require our services and that there is no reason for me to try anymore.”

“Don’t you think he’ll see through that?”

“See through what?” Royce asked. “Honestly, I’m giving it one more try tomorrow and if I can’t find something, I say we head out with Theron and Thrace.”

Hadrian was silent.

“What?” Royce asked.

“I just hate to run out on them like that. I mean, they’re starting to turn it around now.”

“You do this all the time. You get these lost causes under your skin—”

“I’d like to remind you, coming here was your idea. I was in the process of declining the job, remember?”

“Well, a lot can happen in a day; maybe I’ll find a way in tomorrow.”

Hadrian stepped to the doorway and peered out. “The forest is loud. Looks like our friend isn’t coming to visit us tonight. Maybe Esrahaddon’s flames singed its wings and it’s dining on venison this evening.”

“The fires won’t keep it away forever,” Royce said. “According to the wizard, the fires didn’t hurt it; they just confused it—bright lights do that, apparently. Only the sword in the tower can actually harm it. It will be back.”

“Then we’d best take advantage of its absence and get a good night’s sleep.”

Hadrian went down into the cellar, leaving Royce staring out at the night sky and the gathering clouds that crossed the stars. The wind was still up, whipping the trees and battering the fires. He could almost smell it: change was in the air and it was blowing their way.





CHAPTER 8





MYTHS AND LEGENDS





Royce stood on the bank of the river in the early morning light, trying to skip stones out toward the tower. None of them made more than a single jump before the turbulent water consumed them. His most recent idea for reaching the tower centered on building a small boat and launching himself upriver in the hopes of landing on the rocky parapet before the massive current washed him over the falls. Although there was no clear landing ground for such an attempt, it might be possible if he caught the current just right and landed against the rock. The force of the water would likely smash the boat or drive it under when it met the wall, but he might be able to scramble onto the precipice before going over. The problem was even if he managed to perform this harrowing feat, there was no way back.

He turned to see the wizard walking up the river trail. Perhaps to keep an eye on him but more likely to be on hand should he discover the entrance.

“Morning,” the wizard said. “Any epiphanies today?”

“Just one. There is no way to reach that tower.”

Esrahaddon looked disappointed.

“I have exhausted all the possibilities I can think of. Besides, Theron and Thrace are going to be leaving Dahlgren. I no longer have a reason to bang my head against this tower.”

“I see,” Esrahaddon said, staring down at him. “What about the welfare of the village?”

“Hardly my problem. This village shouldn’t even be here, remember? It’s a violation of the treaty. It would be best if all these people left.”

“If we allow it to be wiped out, it could be seen as a sign of weakness and invite the elves to invade.”

“And allowing the village to survive is breaking the treaty, resulting in the same possibility. Fortunately for me, I am not wearing a crown. I am not the emperor, or a king, so it’s not something I need to deal with.”

“You’re just going to leave?”

“Is there a reason for me to stay?”

The wizard raised an eyebrow and looked long at the thief. “What do you want?” he asked at length.

“Are you proposing to pay me now?”

“We both know I have no money, but still you want something from me. What is it?”

“The truth. What are you after? What happened here nine hundred years ago?”