The Slayarians - Book One by JM Barnes (the best electronic book reader .TXT) 📕

at an odd angle underneath him. Ralac ran the razor sharp blade across the biceps of Brolin's right arm and let it fall limply into the mud as he leapt onto the man’s barrel chest. Brolin gasped for precious air but the young assassin had no compassion. He clamped his left hand over the Watchmaster's mouth and brought his face close.
“Look into the face of death, brave protector of the people! Make peace with your gods for you’re soon to stand before them in judgment.” Ralac smiled at the sight of the Watchmaster.
Sweat ran in streams about his face and his eyes were wide with fear. Ralac thought with silent disdain how this so called man of the people looked much like a steer that knows its soon for the butcher block. He shook his head in disgust.
“One more thing. The spice merchant wanted you to know that I am his family’s justice.” Ralac whispered into the man’s ear.
Brolin shook his head violently to protest but the boy straddling his chest held an iron grip upon his face. Something smooth and cool ran across his throat. He felt warm fluid spread across his chest as the boy leapt to his feet. Brolin tried to take a breath but found himself choking as the blood filled his lungs. Ralac stepped back into the shadows to watch the final agonizing moments of the Watchmaster’s life. When all was still once again in the alley he stepped from the wall and retrieved the faintly glowing pouch. In a few short leaps he was atop the roof of the nearest shop and on his way to collect payment.


CHAPTER 17
CHANCE ENCOUNTERS


The full moon had risen behind the lone traveler not long after he had made his way from the sparse woodlands surrounding the Broken Hills. His dapple gray mare snorted at the low fog rolling across the ground about them as they now traveled westward along the old marsh road toward the small coastal city of Thrinedor. The stone curtain wall was already visible to the man though he was still perhaps more than a mile from the city. It stood out against the inky blackness of the night horizon as a large pale blue rectangle surrounded by a faint pinkish glow. He scanned the surrounding countryside with his keen infravision but saw nothing of interest in the soft bent grass that grew in abundance throughout the marshlands.
Tam Geminilanthis reflected on his place in life during the quiet time he had on the road. He thought about old friends and family that he would probably never see again. While most other elves were heeding the call to return to the sacred groves and secluded vales from whence they originated he continued his travels o’er the lands held by the humans. Deep in his elven heart he felt there was something wondrous about to take place on this yet primal world. How could he withdraw from this still untamed land and its many layers of existence? Of course the elven homelands were unrivaled in their beauty and splendor but he was extremely curious and had a lust for knowledge. Magic was his life’s work and if he returned with the other elves to the homelands it would only be elven magic that he would study. Out beyond the sanctuary of his homeland, in this rugged and savage land, life was a struggle. Challenges abounded around every bend in the road keeping one’s senses sharp. He would explore the far corners of this world and the planes beyond to further his knowledge of the arcane. Then he would find his way back to the elven homeland and enrich his people with his findings.
His thoughts turned from his musings as he drew close to the stone wall surrounding the small city. Two short towers flanked a strong steel portcullis that barred entrance into the city until first light. He drew his mare up before the towers and withdrew an oil soaked torch from his saddlebag. He raised the torch above his head and spoke softly the words of a minor enchantment. Instantly the torch sparked to life illuminating the lone traveler and his mount.
A gruff voice sounded from within the tower to the left flank of the portcullis, “Hold and state your business!”
Geminilanthis no longer had the advantage of his infravision because of the light radiating from the torch. He could still sense he was being watched by several sets of eyes and his keen elven hearing picked up the sound of at least two crossbows being cocked.
“I am but a weary traveler who has been many days upon the hard road. I seek only a soft bed and warm meal for the night, good sirs.” The elf returned.
Fully aware of the answer he was about to receive the elven mage slowly slipped his free hand inside the long leather coat he wore when on the road. Crisscrossing the quilted blue elven stitched shirt he wore beneath the coat were a pair of bandoleers. Each held an assortment of exotic herbs, minerals, dried animal parts and other various components used for the casting of spells. Gently, even as the man in the tower began to speak, Geminilanthis opened one of the bandoleer’s many pockets and pinched a small amount of dust from within. He whispered words arcane as the guard recited statutes of the city that forbade entrance after dusk. As the man droned on Geminilanthis pinpointed the window from which the man spoke. He concentrated on the man’s voice, finished the short incantation that would allow him to implant a suggestion in his mind, and raised his hand before his face. He snapped his fingers that held the ground and dried, pigeon brain dust.
He lightly spit across his fingers focusing his full attention on the man hidden in the darkness of the tower window and spoke his suggestion. “I understand your duty to the people, good sir, but I’m sure this one time you could make a small exception and allow a poor traveler entrance”
It didn’t take long for the spell to take effect especially since the men had been drinking strong ale as they manned their stations.
“Raise the gate enough for him to pass” Called the watchman in command of the tower. “Dismount and pass through traveler. And next time you pass this way ride that horse like you mean it and get here before sundown.”
Geminilanthis smiled inwardly at the man who seemed so in control. “Thank you, good sir. I shall heed those words in the future.”
As he passed through the gate he tossed a silver coin to the guard operating the winch. “A small token of my appreciation to you and your men, good sir. I’m sure a bottle of fine brandy would keep your souls warm this night.”
From the shadows above the watch commander responded. “Very thoughtful, traveler, enjoy yer stay and keep the peace!”
As the mage guided his steed through the open courtyard that led into the city the commander called out once more. “Yer name, good sir, so that I can mark my log.”
Never turning back the elf called over his shoulder “I am known as Gemini, sir. Just Gemini.”
The courtyard was crowded with a multitude of merchant wagons and covered carts. To his left were wagons preparing to depart the city in the morning to travel inland selling and trading wares brought from lands across the sea. MercenAres from various lands relaxed by cooking fires in small camps set up by their employers. To his right was staged a merchant caravan that had entered the town late in the day. At first light the caravan would make its way to the center of the town market area where the merchants would rent space for several days before booking passage to lands beyond.
Past the court he found himself in a residential district comprising of one and two story buildings. Most were white washed stucco dwellings but dotted here and there were wealthier abodes made of stacked stone or brick. He passed a small corner tavern and smiled to himself as the sounds of song and laughter reached his ears from within.
After remounting he made his way through several neighborhoods traveling toward the center of the city. The buildings here were built closer together and raised higher then those on the outskirts. The scent of spicy stew caught his nose, causing his stomach to rumble slightly. He steered his way down a side street and came upon a three story high, stacked stone inn called the Silver Bite. Candles burned merrily in each window of the upper stories and the main hall below was alive with the evening festivities. A young girl dressed in the common garb of a stable hand met Gemini and took the reigns from him as he dismounted.
“Three copper for the eve, milord.” She smiled up at the tall elf as he placed four shiny coppers in her outstretched hand. “Thank you, lord, I’ll see she’s well fed and brushed down nice.”
Inside he found a warm fire burning in a large stone hearth. Above the mantle hung a broken sword. Its two pieces flanked the ever staring head of a junta wyrm. Its gaping maw showed dual rows of silvery razor sharp teeth. A sturdy oak finished bar ran the length of the back wall with a door behind it leading to the kitchen. Rows of wooden stools sat before the bar and most were now occupied by folk enjoying the evening repast. Round tables were laid out across the wide taproom in a seemingly random order. The aroma of freshly baked sweet cheese bread caught Gemini’s nostrils bringing a fresh bout of stomach rumblings. He made his way to an empty table by a window near the hearth that offered a view of the businesses across the street. Once settled in he overturned one of the upside down mugs on his table.
Promptly a serving wench was at the table. Her long black hair was pulled back into a pony tail that streamed below her waist. She wore a form fitting blouse of midnight blue with a silver wyrm crest sewn upon the breast pocket. She poured rich dark lager into the mug from a pitcher she carried. Leaning close to the elf to better hear over the din of the gathered crowd, she gave a broad smile and a wink from one of her strikingly green eyes.
“What can I get for you this eve, sweet? We have a fine barley and beef stew, and roast pheasant with a carrot stuffing.” She reached out and gently touched one of Gemini’s pointed ears running her finger down to the lobe that held a small platinum hoop earring. “Not often we see the fair folk this way anymore.”
He returned the