Angel's Deceit (Angelwar Book 2) Read online

  ‘Kraven? You ready?’

  Tol opened his eyes. He wasn’t staring at the light any more. ‘I can’t go with you.’

  ‘You can do it,’ Kartane said. ‘It’s only a little further, just a mile or two.’

  A shape shouldered the darkness aside, barging past Kartane and placing himself directly in front of Tol. Stetch’s eyes glittered with malice. ‘You’re coming.’

  Everyone was still, and even the wheat seemed to pause a moment as though sensing the Sudalrese warrior was on the brink of losing his temper. Tol took a slow breath, careful not to make any sudden movements. This close, Stetch wouldn’t be able to tell a tremor of pain from an attack until it was already too late, and by then one of them would be dead. Tol had a pretty good idea of which of them would still be standing.

  ‘She’s not there.’

  Surprise flickered across Stetch’s face. ‘Victoria?’

  ‘Kalashadria,’ Tol explained with a shake of his head.

  ‘You’re sure?’ Kartane stepped up beside Stetch.

  Tol nodded. ‘She’s somewhere east of here. I have to go to her.’

  Stetch swore, grabbing Tol by the collar and dragging him forward. ‘Where’s Victoria? She at the house or not?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Tol felt Stetch’s grip tightening; this wasn’t going well. ‘I only know where Kalashadria is, the prince and Katarina’s sister could be anywhere.’

  Stetch tensed, and Tol held his breath as Kartane’s gnarled hand landed on Stetch’s left shoulder. For a moment no-one moved. Tol waited, half-expecting Stetch to turn on Kartane, but the brief contact had the opposite effect, stilling the Sworn man’s anger – at least temporarily.

  ‘They need somewhere quiet to torture the angel,’ Kartane said quietly, ‘but the prince and val Sharvina’s daughter are valuable. Wouldn’t you want to keep them close, keep them somewhere defensible?’

  Stetch grunted noncommittally, but he released Tol and stepped back a pace, Kartane’s hand falling away from his shoulder.

  ‘We don’t know for sure,’ Kartane said to Tol. ‘I think we’re better off sticking together.’

  ‘No, you were right: the prince and Victoria will be close to Drayken, but the demons won’t let Kalashadria out of their sight while she’s alive.’ Tol gasped softly as a fresh bout of pain flowed through his link with the angel. ‘They’re torturing her now,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘I have to save her.’

  ‘It might work to our advantage,’ Kartane said as Stetch started swearing under his breath. ‘If Kraven’s right then we won’t have to deal with the demons. You fancy going up against them?’

  Stetch shrugged, like he wouldn’t mind having a go, but Tol could tell he was wavering. ‘It’s the best decision tactically,’ he insisted. ‘If we all go in and even one man gets away, gets word to the demons, they’ll be there in minutes. My way’s better.’

  Stetch looked him over carefully. ‘And if you die?’

  ‘We attack at the same time,’ Tol said. ‘I’ll keep them busy long enough for you to find Victoria and the prince.’

  ‘You’d better.’

  I just hope I’m right and they’re still alive. He looked from Stetch to Kartane. ‘Don’t wait for me.’

  Kartane grinned as he held out his hand. ‘Wasn’t planning to. Don’t die, lad.’

  They shook, and Tol tried to smile. ‘Wasn’t planning to.’ He looked into Stetch’s eyes but saw no warmth there. ‘Good luck.’

  Stetch snorted, luck clearly wasn’t something the warrior felt he required. He held out his hand grudgingly, fingers like iron wrapping themselves round Tol’s hand. ‘Kill them,’ he growled. It was about as emotional as Stetch ever got.

  Tol turned to the others. ‘Listen to Stetch and Kartane,’ he told them. ‘They’ve done this kind of thing before.’ He adjusted the sword balanced on his shoulder. ‘Good luck.’

  ‘I’m coming with you.’

  ‘Vixen… they need you.’

  She folded her arms, staring at him like his mother used to when Tol had disappointed her. ‘I read tracks just as well as those two,’ she said, jerking her head to indicate Stetch and Kartane. ‘You’re going up against two demons and you’ve got two swords that can kill them. I’m coming with you.’

  ‘It’s too dangerous,’ Tol argued. ‘I’ve done this before, I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘You got lucky last time, and there was only one. Plus, you nearly died. We do this together.’

  Tol sighed. He knew that stubborn set to Vixen’s jaw, remembered it from every childhood argument he had ever lost with her. ‘We probably won’t survive.’

  ‘I’m still coming.’

  Worth a try. Tol had known though that Vixen would never back down. He just hoped her stubbornness didn’t get her killed.

  ‘Some arguments you can’t win,’ Kartane said, stepping forward. He held out a poorly folded square of cloth. ‘About time people knew who’s about to kill them,’ he said as he held the tabard out to Tol.

  It was pure white, and Tol recognised it immediately. Somewhere underneath the folds he would find the symbol of the Knights Reve, a winged sword in front of the orange moon of Ammerlac. ‘They’ll see me a mile away,’ Tol said as he took the tabard. He stuffed the corner of it between his belt and trousers.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Kartane grinned. ‘The amount of noise you make, they’ll hear you from two miles away.’

  *

  After separating from the others, Tol and Vixen continued east along the ill-used dirt road. The mansion was somewhere behind them on the right, and fields still whispered warnings to their right. The sparse trunks of trees had gradually thickened, their boles edging ever closer together as the pair walked, until all that could be seen on their right was a dark, uninviting mass. Somewhere in there, Tol knew, Kalashadria was imprisoned. Judging by the sharp needles of pain that intermittently hammered his skull, the demons had not yet tired of her company. That will change soon enough.

  ‘How far?’ Vixen asked, her voice faint above the rustling leaves.

  They had travelled in awkward silence for the last five minutes, and they were the first words his childhood friend had spoken since insisting she accompany him to his death. Even now, Tol realised, she knows me too well. He didn’t want her here, didn’t want to risk souring those childhood memories which he had held close for so many years. Good memories, precious because there were so few he recalled, and fewer still that didn’t feature Vixen. ‘We’re close, I think. A mile or two.’

  ‘Might be time to hand me that sword.’

  They stopped in the road and Tol eased the naked sword off his shoulder, careful to keep its edge from nicking his shoulder – a feather-light touch, he reckoned, and he’d be seeing more of his insides than he’d like. Not that I’d like to see any of them. He shuddered as he remembered the feeling of the demon’s blade spearing through him in Norve.

  Tol lowered the sword, its tip resting in the loose earth. ‘It might change you,’ he said quietly, eyes fixed on the flawless steel.

  ‘I will not change my mind on this. You cannot do this alone.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, lifting his eyes from Kalashadria’s sword to study his friend. ‘I just wish it didn’t have to be you.’

  Vixen snorted. ‘Better me than one of the others.’ Her face softened. ‘There isn’t anywhere I’d rather be.’

  Tol grinned. ‘Then you’re every bit the idiot I am.’ He looked away quickly, eyes drifting back to the angel’s sword. ‘I don’t know what will happen,’ he said. ‘For all I know, touching the sword might kill you.’

  ‘It hasn’t killed you.’

  Tol’s mouth twisted in a moue. ‘I think it recognises me.’

  It silenced Vixen for a moment. ‘You really believe a sword can do such things without a wielder?’

  Tol nodded. ‘It is the least of what I believe.’

  ‘Then let’s find out.’ Vixen’s arm snaked out, but Tol grabbed h
er wrist. ‘A moment.’ He closed his eyes. It seemed stupid, but with his friend’s life at stake, looking or feeling stupid was a small price to pay if it kept her alive. Tol took a deep breath, focusing his mind and trying to direct his thoughts at the steel in his hand. Kalashadria is hurt. For a second, Tol thought the sword squirmed in his grip, but when he opened his eyes his hands were exactly where they had been a moment ago. He closed his eyes. Trust my friend and she will deliver you to your mistress. Please.

  Tol opened his eyes, lifting Kalashadria’s sword and holding the hilt out to Vixen. He held his breath as she reached for it. Vixen’s fingers closed round the hilt. Nothing happened for a second, then Vixen’s face twisted in pain. It lasted a second, then the mask fell away, a broad grin on his friend’s face.

  ‘Got you,’ she said, cheeks reddening.

  ‘Very funny.’

  Vixen hefted the sword, making a few experimental thrusts. ‘It’s light.’

  ‘Strong, too.’

  ‘That’s what we need. You ready?’

  ‘Almost.’ Tol pulled a face. ‘I just need to let Alimarcus know what’s happened, in case…’ He sighed, and turned his head to the sky. ‘Alimarcus?’ He called as loudly as he dared, pausing a moment before quickly outlining the disaster they faced. ‘I’m going to try and rescue her,’ Tol called at the stars. ‘If you haven’t heard from me by morning, you’ll know I failed.’ Tol stopped, looking up for a moment longer as Ammerlac peeked out from behind the thick clouds that swarmed across the sky.

  ‘Ready?’ Vixen’s voice cut into Tol’s thoughts.

  ‘Ready,’ he confirmed.

  Vixen smiled, that mischievous grin she used to wear just before suggesting an adventure that would inevitably get them into trouble with their parents. ‘Let’s go kill some demons.’

  48.

  ‘You got a plan?’

  Stetch shrugged. ‘Kill them.’ Simple plans, he thought, were generally better; less to go wrong.

  Kartane sighed. ‘Maybe we could go for a bit more detail?’

  They had reached the rear wall, crouching in the voluminous shadows of the trees with the three women down on their haunches beside the pair. Stetch let his gaze drift over the three women. They looked terrified. The big one, he figured, would hold, but he couldn’t be sure about the other two. Maybe a little plan to steal the fear from them. It would return, of course, but maybe not until they’d engaged the enemy. Either they’d run and – with luck – take a few guards with them on a midnight run, else they’d go down fighting, maybe take a couple with them before they fell. Stetch figured the former, but as long as they thinned the crowd a little, or at least distracted a few, the lord’s guards wouldn’t realise what they were up against till they were bleeding out.

  He looked at Kartane. ‘Like?’

  ‘Maybe a distraction,’ the knight offered, rubbing the dark stubble on his chin.

  Stetch grunted some encouragement, and was surprised to see a smile spread across Kartane’s weathered face. ‘Have you heard of the naked lady distraction?’

  Stetch shook his head. He hadn’t, but it sounded like something he might like.

  ‘We send one of the girls to the gate – minus her clothes, of course – running to the guards like she’s been chased or something. While the two on the gate go to her rescue we sneak up behind and give ’em a long sleep.’

  Stetch nodded slowly. Stupid, but maybe stupid enough to work. They both looked at the women.

  Suranna and the nuns were quiet a moment. ‘I’ll do it,’ Berta said.

  Stetch held his tongue as Kartane’s mouth flapped uselessly. For once, the knight seemed short of words.

  ‘You’re the best of us,’ Rachel told her friend. ‘If the deception doesn’t work, those two will be too late. You’re the most dangerous, we can’t risk losing you before the battle begins.’ The nun took a deep breath, her umber eyes flitting from Kartane to Stetch. ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘You will?’

  Stetch sighed inwardly at Kartane’s obvious surprise, but the knight recovered quickly. ‘Good girl, we won’t let anything happen to you.’ He glanced quickly round the group. ‘Now, once we’ve cleared the gate our best bet is to work our way through the grounds to the main entrance. Once inside, we’ll hit the barracks Kraven told us about first. Me and Chatty will clear it out while you three watch our backs.’ He looked to Stetch. ‘We bottle them up in the doorway and cut them down as they come out?’

  Stetch grunted; it was as good a plan as any.

  ‘Then what?’ Suranna asked.

  ‘Kill them all,’ Stetch told her bluntly.

  ‘Anyone armed,’ Kartane corrected. He continued quickly before Stetch could object, ‘Once we’ve cleared out the main force, here’s what we do…’

  *

  ‘I never thought they’d go for it,’ Kartane whispered.

  Stetch poked his head around the corner of the wall, watching as Rachel, her dress undone and rolled down upon itself to her waist, stumbled along the estate’s outer wall. The guards had already noticed her, staring open-mouthed and enjoying the view for a few moments before deciding to try their hand at valour, although Stetch thought their idea of the word might differ significantly from his own, and most certainly the nun’s.

  ‘Worth waiting for,’ Kartane whispered, leaning around Stetch to watch the guards heading to intercept Rachel.

  Stetch sighed softly, resisting the urge to punch the man. He slipped around the corner, moving lightly alongside the front wall towards the gate. A few seconds later Kartane drew alongside him, and the pair hurried at a crouch, closing in on the guards as the two men approached Rachel.

  Stetch glanced up to his left as he passed the open gate. A long garden stretched towards the huge house. As Kraven had said, there was barely enough cover to hide a ferret.

  A few seconds of itching as they passed the open gate, wondering if an archer was looking their way, but Stetch slipped back out of view behind the high wall without an alarm being raised or the whine of an arrow.

  The two guards had reached Rachel now, halfway between the gate and the wall’s corner. Stetch could hear her faint mumblings, pretending to be dazed and frightened – at least half of which, he figured, didn’t involve any pretending. Stetch already had his dagger in hand, and as they covered the last dozen yards he heard the faint whisper of Kartane’s own blade coming loose.

  Another step brought them closer, the two guards crowding round Rachel now. Another light step, and another, almost within reach of the targets as greedy hands reached towards her. Rachel stiffened, but didn’t resist. To her credit she didn’t look over the guards’ shoulders, instead quaking silently, her eyes downcast.

  Another step.

  Stetch timed his attack, reaching out a split-second after Kartane made his move. Two hands slithered round throats, tilting the chin back as the knives came round from the other side, lancing into soft flesh before the guards knew what was happening, a quick sweep across the throat producing two dark fountains. Stetch gripped his man, Kartane doing likewise beside him. Stetch watched Rachel as hot blood spattered across her face and naked torso, her mouth dropping open in mute horror. Stetch saw the rise of her bare breasts, crimson in the faint moonlight, and shoved his corpse to the ground. Stetch scowled, lifting a finger to his lips as the nun’s mouth opened wider still.

  Don’t do it.

  She stopped at the last second, whatever wail was about to be birthed aborted just in time. Stetch tried to give her a nod of encouragement, but she just looked shocked, standing there with half a bucket of blood plastered across her face, chest and stomach. Stetch removed his finger from his lips and made a circling motion. He repeated it a second time, this time with more force, and saw recognition on the nun’s face, her cheeks colouring. She turned her back to him and Stetch stepped over the lifeless guard’s corpse. Rachel covered her nakedness, draping the dress back over her shoulders. Stetch buttoned it one-handed, aware of the dis
appointed look from Kartane but knowing that, deep down, the display was for show. Anyone that pitied Kraven enough to save his life on several occasions couldn’t be completely heartless. Which wasn’t to say he wasn’t terminally stupid.

  Stetch turned Rachel around when he finished. ‘Get the others,’ he whispered. ‘Meet us at the gate.’

  She nodded, stumbling back towards the end of the wall where the other two waited around the corner.

  ‘Thought she’d scream,’ Kartane muttered, bending down to wipe the gore from his blade. Stetch followed him to the ground, both men looting the guards for weapons. ‘Still time,’ Stetch told him.

  ‘Ain’t you full of cheer?’

  Stetch smiled happily. ‘Good night for killing.’ Watching the smile evaporate from Kartane’s face – taking what little colour the northerner had with it – was a small victory, but no less precious for it.

  Stetch added another dagger to his belt and walked back towards the gates, Kartane following surprisingly quietly for a man recently out of the iron mines. Not a man to underestimate, Stetch knew. By most accounts, he had enough bodies in his past to rival some of the greatest names of the Sworn.

  Stetch reached the open gates, cautiously poking his head around the corner and drawing it quickly back. He counted the seconds: one, two, three. After four, and no hint of an arrow, he jerked his head towards the far side of the gate. ‘Go.’

  Kartane bounded across, fast and silent. He covered the eight yards in a couple of seconds, flinging his back against the wall as soon as he was across and gazing across the gap at Stetch. Stetch nodded, and they unshouldered their bows in unison, slotting an arrow to the nock. The two men edged out from the wall so just a shoulder and part of one side was visible, adopting a position almost identical to the guards they had despatched.

  Stetch waited, listening. He turned slightly so he could peer into the grounds, just a fraction of his head not hidden by the wall so he presented the smallest target possible. A hundred and fifty yards of open ground lay between him and the front door. If Kraven hadn’t been exaggerating then there would be more guards waiting within the grounds. Stetch liked his body without any extra holes so he waited patiently; sooner or later they would reveal themselves.