Dread Rising

To his surprise, the slot opened. In fact, in entire wall began to retract into the floor, and from the opposite side came a wall of blinding light. Decius raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness. Through his fingers, he saw a silhouette emerge from behind the retreating door, and then a woman stepped into his cell.

She was tall, pale-skinned, and regal in her bearing. Raven hair fell to her waist in perfectly coiffed locks bound with gem-studded golden chains, and she wore a long dress of dark velvet that dove from her white shoulders to nearly bare her ample breasts before cutting low toward her waist. The trim of her dress was white silk, the outline of her neckline meeting the white trim on her legs to form a saltire.

Decius swallowed hard. The queen was more beautiful than he had imagined, but the brilliant green eyes that stared down at him with cruel amusement chilled him to his core. Lamira raised a hand, laden with jeweled rings, to her red lips and tapped them pensively.

"Decius Capricius Sallax," she mused. "I've heard much about you."

"And I have heard more about you, Your Majesty. I regret that our meeting comes under such circumstances."

'Indeed, I am sure you do. However, it could be worse. You could have been caught killing my husband, instead of some spicer."

Decius swallowed again. The queen's eyes were everywhere, the sayings went, and now he found them boring a hole through his soul. Another woman stepped up behind the queen, this one was also tall and raven haired, dressed in a similar black gown, though her bodice was not nearly so revealing.

"Mother," the newcomer whispered in the Common tongue before she continued in another tongue that Decius could not recognize. He strained to discern if not its identity then at least its family of origin, but came up with nothing. Lamira's daughter stopped, and the queen smiled. Her green eyes returned to Decius.

"You were meeting with Marcellinus," she accused mildly. "What did you promise him for his aid?"

Decius shifted uncomfortably on the floor. The queen's daughter stared down at him and raised a pair of manacles in her hand, her face cold.

"If my mother asks too politely, I could ask instead." In the chamber behind them, Decius saw the short man and the minotaur who had captured them. The minotaur was hauling a wooden rack into the middle of the room.

"Very well," Decius sighed, "You seem to know everything anyway. We offered him an alliance, and the names of all the emperor's men in the Guild."

"And for this, he will give you the loyalty of the Guild?" the queen asked.

"Aye," Decius replied.

"And you will use your family's influence to avoid any rupture with the Curia?"

"Indeed. A mutually beneficial arrangement for us, until you got involved."

"So it would seem. I admit I thought it unlikely that a sorcerer and a spicer could find common ground, but you showed uncommon cunning. The emperor would be wise to keep an eye on the two of you, and to hope that this alliance does not go further than spice and spies. Friendship between the two bitterest foes in the empire would be a sea change."

"That was the plan, yes," Decius admitted.

"Good. Then there is little for me to fear, and you may go."

"I'm sorry?" Decius was shocked. The queen turned to her guards behind her.

"Put it back, Guwinka. We won't need it today."

The guard and his minotaur companion looked crestfallen but did as ordered. Decius stood up.

"I am free to go?" he asked.

"That is what I said. I just had to be sure that I need not fear the Armada come calling. If you and Draithan the Dreaded can get the Curia to ignore your little coup, then it matters little to me. Magnur has overstayed his welcome in my halls. It is time someone new arose, and I like the look of this half-elf."

"You would abandon your husband?" Decius asked in surprise.

"What is he to me?" the queen replied. "He brought me the loyalty of many captains when we married, but now they have died, retired, or become fat and lazy. His strength wanes, his treasure hoard gathers dust, and he has neglected his duties. The city always needs fresh blood."

"Where is Draithan?" Decius demanded.

"He will be waiting outside when you get there. And, to speed you along, Magnur will be at the baths on Tower Street with four guards, still oblivious to what has already happened, thanks to Fethira here." Her daughter nodded with a slim smile, then retreated from the chamber through another door. "And when you're finished, return to me." She smiled again, her eyes hungry. "I should hate to see you walk away untasted."

Then she was gone, sweeping through the door after her daughter and vanishing into the dark hall. Guwinka and the minotaur leaned against the rack, arms crossed.

"You and I won't get acquainted today, sorcerer," he said with mild disappointment. "Perhaps another time."

Decius scowled at him. "Which way to Draithan?" he demanded. Slowly, Guwinka raised a hand and pointed to the door opposite where Lamira had exited. Decius wasted little time in leaving. He shoved his way through the door impatiently and found himself in a small antechamber, where all his things had been laid out on a table, from his spice capsules to his broadsword. Quickly, he rearmed himself, then followed the hall to the exit.

He found Draithan waiting, along with Lomirran and Gilgabraith, all armed again and unharmed. The sun was low in the sky behind them, its last rays creeping over the rooftops as the city turned from day to night. The crowds were thick in the streets again.

"Welcome back, sorcerer," Draithan said as Decius appeared, his face excited. "We have royal sanction now."

"So I have heard. Does it not change your plan that she would throw away her husband so easily? Would you want to marry her now?"

Draithan snorted. "Of course! The dwarf has fallen from favor because he became soft and lazy. His captains have grown old. These are my captains," he pointed to his elf-kin. "They will never grow old. Their edge will not dull. I foresee a long reign for myself, and a long friendship between you and I."

"So be it," Decius replied. After all, it's not my neck on the block. "Lead the way to the baths on Tower Street, for I don't even know where we are."

Draithan laughed and pointed up. Stepping forward, Decius saw that they were at the base of the cliff and atop it was Lamira's palace. "We'll be at the baths in no time at all."

He spoke true enough. They made their way across the city quickly even as its streets choked with crowds in search of evening entertainment. The rumor mill was still swirling, fresh with news of Nevitta's brazen murder. Decius kept his head down as they walked but could still hear the street chatter. The city was excited but also nervous. More than one person foretold blood running through the streets during the night.

Draithan pulled to a halt. He signaled toward the next corner. "There are the baths."

"Is there another exit?" Decius asked, and Draithan nodded.

"There's one on the opposite side as well as servants' exits."

"Then Gilgabraith and I will take one exit while you and Lomirran go in the other and do the deed."

"No," Draithan said, shaking his head. "I want you with me. I won't have you running off to leave me holding the bag. Lomirran will cover the back and Gilgabraith the front. You and I will go in and kill the dwarf."

"As you wish," Decius sighed. "Let's get this done."

Decius started off toward the door without waiting for a response. Draithan and Gilgabraith fell in behind, while Lomirran moved off toward the far side of the bath house. They pressed their way through the crowd to reach the front door just as a throng of tradesmen emerged from the baths, still damp and smelling of fresh oil. Trailing behind them were a trio of satisfied and sweaty harlots who smiled and waved them farewell at the threshold. The women turned their gaze to Decius and his companions as they approached.

"Evening, gentlemen. Fancy a private bath?"

"Not tonight, ladies," Gilgabraith replied. "We're here on business."

"So are we," one of them giggled. They turned and headed inside, tossing interested looks over their shoulders. Decius ignored them and looked through the long hall to the opposite door, waiting for Lomirran to signal he was ready.

A group of sailors passed by, allowing Decius to hear their conversation.

"Aye, they're all over the ship now. Says that the Sapphire Lord owns them now. The dwarf won't like that."

"Best be indoors tonight. Things will get bloody before the sun rises."

"Let's make for the Sailor's Purse. This night will be over faster if we've got whores and wine!"

Draithan smiled as they walked off to the west.

"Caeruthir works fast."

"We had better do the same. If Magnur finds out his galleons have been seized--"

"He won't. He's half-asleep in a bath while pretty girls braid his beard and ride his cock. I know his habits, don't worry."

Decius scowled. The half-elf's confidence had not failed them so far, but his judgment regarding the queen and his future position made Decius wary of his caution.

"What did the queen ask you?" Draithan asked.

"She wanted to know what we promised the spicer. I told her, since she already knew everything. Her men were waiting for us. She knew we were going to go after Nevitta before we even arrived."

"She reads the stars better than anyone," Draithan replied. "It is why Caeruthir was wrong to ask whether we had her blessing. If not, we never would have succeeded."

"Then why did she drag us in?"

"To remind us that she controls everything in this city. It is as I told you; the queen rules this city herself. She cares little for the emperor's fleets."

"Well, she asked about them, too. Look, Lomirran is in position."

"Then let's go. I've waited a long time for this."

Draithan took the lead, leaving Gilgabraith to guard the door as Decius followed. The entrance to the bath house was a grand stone arch, the floors rough tile. Brass lanterns burned overhead, casting flickering shadows in the evening light. The interior was thick with steam, even in the antechamber where attendants waited to take their things. One woman stepped forward to meet them.

"Private room, sirs?" she asked. Draithan shook his head.

"Magnur Ironside. Where is he?"

"I'm afraid I don't know, sir."

"Of course you do. He's in a private room, but which one."

"We respect the privacy of our patrons, sir."

Draithan smiled derisively. Drawing his sword, he shoved her aside and made for the door to the main chamber. The woman cried out for him to stop, the other attendants cowered or ran. Decius drew his own blade.

Draithan threw open the doors to the main bath chamber. The room was a long pool lined with benches and alcoves on one wall, and doors to the private baths on the other. Barely ten bathers were within, the evening rush had just ended and the night crowd had yet to arrive. But they all recognized the situation immediately and naked bathers ran for the doors. Draithan ignored them, heading for the private chambers.

The half-elf kicked open the first door to find the room empty. His lips curled into a sneer and he moved on. The next door flew open and three men inside turned at a start. They were seated around the edge of a circular bathing pool, steam wafting upwards to the ceiling, while a platter of stuffed game hens floated in the middle.

"What in the name of Eldrin are you doing?" one man shouted. "Waving a sword around in here..."

"Shut your mouth," Draithan snapped and slammed the door shut. "Impudent swine," he hissed under his breath.

"On we go," Decius whispered to himself. The half-elf overheard and smiled a wolf's smile.

"On until the end," he replied. They moved to the third door together. Draithan paused a moment, then breathed deep. His boot snapped forward and smashed open the door. Their quarry lay inside.

Magnur Ironside reclined naked in the bath, his arms resting on the brickwork rim of the pool, eyes closed, and his head tilted back toward the ceiling. His wet beard was unbound, though its ornaments lay on the rim of the columned tub behind him and his clothes in an alcove behind them. Two naked slave girls sat to his sides, one pouring bathwater from a jug over his broad, hairy chest, and the other preparing a tray of perfumes and oils. Between his legs knelt a third girl, her soft white hands wrapped around his cock as she kissed it. The three girls were all pale, blonde, and slender. Decius envied the dwarf.

Between himself and the dwarf were four guards, two short, stocky dwarves, and two powerful, hulking minotaurs. They each carried a broad-bladed messer, a short knife, and two pistols. The guards turned at the sound of the door, having been engaged watching the girls pleasure their master, and their faces dropped in alarm. They went for their weapons, but the nearest dwarf was too slow. Draithan was on him in an instant and his long blade slashed through the dwarf's neck. His head lolled back and thudded wetly to the ground before his body slumped forward.

The girls screamed. Magnur opened his eyes and shouted in alarm. He bolted to his feet, his knees striking the girl between her legs as he flailed in the water. A minotaur lunged at Draithan, who ducked beneath the blow and slashed at its thighs. The half-elf danced past it to engage the other minotaur as he made for Magnur at the rear of the room.

Decius cast a spell of ironskin over himself and darted in to join the melee. He clashed swords with the remaining dwarf, the heavy blows of his smaller opponent sending shocks through his poor swordarm. He winced, despite the ironskin, and skittered back to avoid the heavy blade of a minotaur.

Magnur scrambled over the tiled floor, making for his weapons against the far wall. The girls ran for the door, their bare feet leaving wet footprints on the tile, except for the girl in the bath, who held her bloody nose and cowered in the water.

Draithan dodged aside as a minotaur cut at him, then turned his blade and drove it into the monster's flank. It howled in pain, flailing about in a vain attempt to wound his attacker. Instead, its fist connected with one of the fleeing slave girls, knocking her back into the bath with a great splash. Decius dodged the attack of the other minotaur, pressed on the other side by the dwarf. He conjured a veil of black ash to shield him from the minotaur, then turned violently on the dwarf.

From his left hand flew a spray of blazing light that struck the dwarf in the face. He howled and flailed about, blinded and singed as locks of his beard caught flame. Decius lunged and plunged his broadsword into the dwarf's chest. He cried out in strangled pain, his messer clattering to the floor, and Decius twisted the blade. The dwarf staggered a half step back, then slid off the sword and struck the floor with a wet thud.

Decius turned as the minotaur, still staggering from the leg wound Draithan had dealt it, lumbered its way through the veil, slashing blindly with its sword. Decius thrust out his hand, and a bolt of lightning leapt forward. It struck the minotaur square in its chest and the beast snapped back, its limbs dancing wildly and its hair standing on end. The messer clanged to the floor and splashed into the bath.

There was a loud crack, and Decius felt something strike off his back. He heard it clatter off the ceiling and splash into the water. Turning, he saw Magnur standing naked, a pistol in his hand and his wet cock waving before him. Fuming, the dwarf readied his second pistol. Decius charged forward.

Behind him, there was another howl as Draithan slew the minotaur. It toppled forward into the bath, nearly crushing the two screaming slave girls beneath its bulk. A great gout of water went up in the splash, raining down on Magnur before his pistol could spark. The flint struck the frizzen and sparks flew, but the wet powder in the flashpan would not light. The furious dwarf hurled the useless pistol at Decius, only for it to clang off his iron skin and crash to the floor.

Instead, the dwarf drew his sword, a curved saber that glowed a sickly green in the room's lantern light. The metal seethed with a malice that Decius could feel, a cold hatred that permeated his every fiber. He felt his ironskin rust and melt away. The sorcerous energies that coursed through his veins stilled themselves, and he swallowed hard in fear.

The dwarf rushed at Decius, his blade hissing and crackling as he swung. Decius backed away, parrying as best he could manage. The dwarf was strong, but most surprisingly, he was fast. Decius could barely keep up with his strokes and soon found himself backing toward the bath. Behind him, he heard the clangs of Draithan and the minotaur as they battled.

Magnur stabbed low, and Decius hopped back from the strike, only to realize it was a feint. The dwarf turned his blade and stabbed high, a mortal blow that Decius only just turned aside. Roaring with fury, Magnur lowered his shoulder and tackled him into the bath. They went down in a heap, the hot water swallowing them both up. The roar of the water filled Decius' ears, muffling the slave girls' screams. Decius flailed about, trying to find his balance and footing, and felt his blade strike something. Through the water, he could see the green blade glimmer. He realized it was held just overhead, poised for a finishing strike.

He kicked off the tub floor, propelling himself backwards as the blade descended. It plunged through the water and crashed into the tile below, cracking it in half. Tendrils of fel energy lashed out, searing Decius' leg that had just avoided the blade itself. Decius cried out, his mouth filling with hot water, and felt his back hit the far rim of the tub.

Struggling to the surface, he swept the water from his eyes and looked about frantically. Draithan stood beside the minotaur, his blade buried in its flank up to the hilt. Triumph in his eyes, the half-elf tore it out, spilling a gout of dark red blood to the floor. The minotaur slumped to the side and cracked its horn on the floor as it fell. Blood rushed from its open wound onto the floor, where it streamed toward the bath. Red rivulets ran between the tiles to drip into the hot, clear water.

To his surprise, Decius realized there was already blood in the bathwater. To the other side, he saw the slave girls. One lay on her back in the water, blood pouring from her open throat. Her companion held her in her arms, pleading with her to stay alive, to no avail. Decius felt his face turn pale as he realized what his sword had struck while flailing about in the water.

But there was no time to dwell on it. Magnur stood before him, holding his fel green blade in both hands as he advanced naked through the water. Blood swirled about him in the water, curling about his bare legs as he waded forward. Decius propped himself up against the far wall, his clothes clinging to his skin, heavy with wetness. He tried to pull himself from the tub, but his wet hands slipped on the rim.

Magnur lunged forward, his blade slicing downward in a cruel arc that threatened to slice Decius in twain. He got his broadsword up to parry, but the impact ran through his shoulder, jarring him to the bone. His blade cracked under the force and Magnur sheared right through it. Decius fell to the side as the green blade came down to crash against the stone rim. He had only barely avoided a terrible death, but the dwarf was still there.

Decius scrabbled away, pushing himself along the edge of the tub as Magnur advanced.

"I don't know who you are," the dwarf snarled, "But I'll have you screaming for death before I'm done with you." He sliced at Decius again, and it was all he could do to dive beneath the blade again and submerge himself underwater. He heard the blade crack against the stone and shoved off the water to escape into open water.