Legacy of Power

Chapter One

In the shadows of the warlord's fortress, death was on the prowl. Hiding himself against the corner wall of the stairway, Jacek waited for the guard to approach down the steps. He only had his war axe and a dagger with him for this job, as he needed to move silently. More than enough to get the job done. He drew his dagger and held it close.

As soon as a foot appeared around the corner, Jacek rammed the knife up until he hit soft flesh. The blade sunk in under the chin up to the hilt. The guards' eyes widened in shock then went blank as death caught up. The only sound emanating from the man was a slight gurgle as the blade was released. Jacek caught the body and threw him over his shoulder as he moved on up the stairs to the top. The guard wasn't small, but Jacek's height and strength hoisted him easily off the ground. He dropped the guard quietly into a dark corner where it would be some time before he was discovered. This was precisely why he did these sorts of jobs at night. Darkness was an old friend.

He wiped his hand down his short dark beard, now peppered with gray. On the right in the hallway was the door to the office. He had a map in his head of the castle, courtesy of the guard he'd taken the night before and interrogated. The man hadn't wanted to give up any intelligence on his place of work, but then things had gotten messy and he got quite chatty.

Jacek turned the handle and stepped inside. A table with a chair sat near the window, illuminated by a stretch of moonlight emanating from the far side windows. Various writing paraphernalia sat strewn on the desk. He was drawn to a large piece of stone placed on the table, sitting on some cloth. Approaching it, he saw that the stone had some engravings. It looked like elvish. He had seen it occasionally on antique artifacts sold by special merchants. The Elves had been dead for over three hundred years. This stone tablet must be very old. Why did the Warlord Krodon have this? Jacek had no idea what it said, or where it could have come from. Whatever his reasons, they couldn't be good. His father was a tyrant and Krodon was rumored to be worse.

He was here for a pendant. Paid 30 Olons by a merchant to retrieve it, it apparently had a lot of sentimental value. Massaging the lined and calloused fingers in his left hand to try to get the feeling back into it, he continued to search the room, leaving everything just as he found it. Nothing. The bed chamber was next.

Back out in the hallway, he faced another door. Jacek silently turned the handle and peered through a small crack. The large bedchamber, lit only by the moon's light through a window, looked still and silent.

He slipped through the door, padding on soft leather boots through the room. A large form lay sleeping on the huge bed in the center of the room. It would be so easy to just swipe a blade over the Warlord's throat right now and be done with it. He entertained the thought for a second. He would be doing a lot of people a huge favor. But he was not getting paid for that tonight. He could always charge many Olons at another time to do it.

He padded over to the dresser where a few trinkets lay. A couple of rings, a comb, leather gloves... there. A necklace with a white stone pendant hung from a hook on the backboard of the dresser. It had an Elven rune engraved in the middle. It fit the description the merchant had given him. He lifted the piece of jewelry up and hung it around his own neck for safekeeping, tucking it under his leather jerkin.

Just then he heard footsteps in the hallway, coming towards the bedroom door. It sounded like two men. Had someone found the body of the first guard already? If so, that put a wrinkle in his plan. He would have to improvise.

He moved quickly to another door to his left, slipping through before the main bedroom door was opened. He listened carefully, but no one called out after him. It seemed Krodon was not a light sleeper.

Light filtered up from two torches at the bottom, revealing a dark stairway leading down. At the bottom, another heavy door blocked the way. This was Krodon's personal passage to the dungeon. Jacek didn't want to know why it led from his bedroom.

Beyond the door, he found himself in a subterranean hallway constructed of stone. Most of the fortress was built from wood. This must be part of the original elvish tower that the fortress was built around. Torch sconces lit the length of the hallway, making the light flicker and dance in varying shadows like macabre marionettes.

Heavy wooden doors lined the hallway, each with little barred windows on them. At the end, a staircase led back up to the ground level. He sped up as he headed for it.

"Who's there?" A small voice whispered out of the darkness. He skidded to a stop in his tracks. It sounded young. Female. Oddly accented. Whoever it was had good hearing. He hadn't made much noise at all.

The nature of the voice caught him off guard. Was that a child? He said nothing, waiting to see if she spoke again. It had sounded like it came from behind one of the barred doors.

"Please, I'm very thirsty. Will you bring me some water?" the little voice croaked.

That was definitely a child. Slightly horrified but wary, Jacek moved to the door it had come from. Peering in through the bars, he could only make out a small shape against the back wall. He tried the handle. Locked of course.

Checking up and down the hallway to make sure he was still alone, he pulled out his set of lock picks. In only a few seconds the tumbler clicked loudly into place, unlocking the door. Waiting to see if anyone had heard the noise, he relaxed when after a few seconds the silence continued. He opened the door and peered into the darkness. He scrunched his nose up as the stench of body excretions and mildew assaulted him.

"Who are you?" He kept his voice low. It came out raspy and sounded like stones over a washboard.

There was a hesitation, then the sound of an inhalation. But no words came back. Was she afraid of him? A slight pull in his chest reminded him he was still human, even if he did cut himself off from everyone else. While he was used to people fearing his reputation, he didn't like the thought of a child fearing him in person.

"I won't hurt you. I'm not a guard here. Are you a prisoner?"

Another hesitation, then a "yes." The word was barely breathed.

"What did you do?" Jacek kept an ear out for footsteps in the hallway. His instincts kept telling him he needed to move. This was going to get him killed, he was almost sure of it. But for some reason his feet stayed still, waiting for the answer.

"Nothing."

Right. Probably a thief. Most likely out of necessity, but a thief nonetheless. Not that Jacek was under any illusions about himself. He knew he was a thief and a murderer. However, it was a necessity of survival.
There was a clink of chains as the child moved slightly. Jacek clenched his jaw and stepped over to her in the shadows. She scuffled back against the stone wall; the chains dragging on the stone floor, making a lot of noise. He winced.

"It's alright," he said in a whisper, his palms up in front of him to show he was not planning on hurting her. Although it was probably hard to see in this light. "I'll unlock these shackles and then you can go. But then you're on your own."

There was no way he was taking her with him. If there was anything he had learned in his life, it was that helping people was dangerous. Despite that, he drew the line at leaving her locked up here. Still, he didn't want her connecting herself with him.

In the dim light he saw her nod, wide-eyed with fear. Kneeling at her side he picked up the lock gently to lessen the sounds of clinking chains as much as he could. His left hand already numb again, he fumbled with the metal shackle and the pick. His time was running out. He was bound to be discovered soon. A prickle of alarm started in the back of his head. He had to get out of here or this would be his last job. Ever.

Finally, the lock clicked open. The girl scuttled back against the brick wall pulling her feet out of the restraints and putting as much distance between them as she could.

"Right, go. I'm getting out of here. You do whatever you want, but you're not coming with me."The girl stayed still and silent where she was.

Jacek turned and left the room, the prickly feeling growing in his skull. He sped off down the hall to the stairs.

Starting up, he heard footsteps coming down. Cursing his decision to waste time with the girl, he considered hiding and letting them past. But then they would find the kid. He would have to take them out.

Opting for the quick kill, he rushed up the steps on well-practiced silent feet. Two men were walking down, lightly armored in breastplates and carrying pikes. Before they could react, he barreled into them, taking one by the throat and pushing backwards into the wall while kicking out the feet of the other from under him. There was a clatter of metal as the man went down flailing.

He continued to squeeze the throat of the man in his right hand; the soldier trying to grapple for Jacek's face. But his long arms proved useful and he just tipped his head back to avoid the reaching fingers.

The other soldier regained his composure, quickly rolling away from the large assassin. His pike had fallen further down the stairs, but he pulled out a knife instead. "You're dead, shit-eater." The soldier bared his teeth at him.

Still holding the other man by the throat, Jacek pulled out his axe and swung at the incoming knife. The man's hand flew off in a spurt of blood. Jacek flinched his eyes closed as blood spattered on his face. He groaned inwardly, realizing he would have to bathe later. The soldier screamed, clutching his wrist tightly with his other hand. Great, maybe that hadn't been the best idea. Now the whole castle was alerted.

Jacek grabbed the soldier he had been choking and wrapped his arm around the man's neck. Dropping his axe, he snapped the neck in an efficient, practiced move. He dropped the body to the floor and snatched up his axe again.

The screaming ended when Jacek's axe was embedded in the man's skull. He had to keep moving, so it was down to a messy job instead of a quiet one.

Movement behind him had him spinning around, his axe raised. But it was just the girl, her hand covering her mouth in shock at the sight of the dead men. She raised widened eyes to his face. He saw himself in those eyes. A monster, he knew. Well. There was nothing he could do about that.

In the better light, he finally got a glimpse of her. Clothed in a filthy, thin shift, the girl looked to be no older than twelve. Skinny and dirty, she had long gray hair halfway down her back. No, it was most likely dirty white hair.

The urgency still there, he turned and kept running up the stairs. He heard the girl stumble slightly behind him - most likely slipping on the blood - but her light footsteps still trailed behind him. He pinched his lips together. She had better not get in his way.

The stairs opened out to a wide hallway, lit by smoky yellow oil lamps. He paused to listen before turning into it and heading in the direction of the entrance he had come in through. There was a kitchen in the east wing that had a back door opening out into a small courtyard. If he could get there, he could slip out through the side gate he'd left unlocked. He hoped it was still unlocked.

Clattering armor gave away the presence of more of the warlord's men behind him down the hall. If they had bows, he was screwed. Risking a glance back, he saw five men running, swords drawn. Small reliefs. But the girl was there too, close behind. She looked too much like she was following him. He gave her a snarl, but she didn't respond.

Down more corridors and hallways he ran, following the map in his head of the layout. The kitchen wasn't far away now. Just a few more doorways.

Just then a door opened on the left up ahead and out stepped a gaudily dressed man in burgundy with a sword in his hand and four more soldiers behind him, brandishing steel. Jacek and the girl came to an abrupt halt. The man exuded self importance. Maybe the next in command for the warlord? It wasn't Krodon himself, that was for sure. This man was much shorter and had long ruddy hair. He blocked the way to the kitchen beyond, a smirk plastered on his red face.

The little man put a hand on his chest and smiled condescendingly. "I am Traslek, Warlord Krodon's right-hand man. He entrusts me with the security of this castle."

"Security. Now that's a good idea." Jacek rumbled.

Traslek ran his gaze over Jacek, disdain clear in his eyes. "A tall man with a scar across your face like that and carrying that axe. Looks like we've got ourselves the infamous Red Hunter." His smirk belied a confidence that didn't fit his physicality.

Jacek resisted the urge to rub at the scar. It did have the side effect of making him more recognizable. Which had its pros and cons.

"Some people have called me that." Jacek eyed up the soldiers behind him. They both kept shifting their grips on their swords and restlessly moving their feet. Particularly after hearing his moniker spoken aloud.

He glanced over at the girl, standing off to his left. She looked frozen to the spot, barely breathing. Great. Baggage. He could just leave her here of course. He had no obligation to take her with him. There was a job to finish. But something nagged at him. Something he couldn't put his finger on. Something about her that was different. But he didn't have time to figure it out. Right now he had to deal with this prick and his nervous goons. He imagined burying his axe in the stupid fop's face.

The clanking of weapons further back down the hall announced the first lot of soldiers were catching up. Time to get out of here. With his free hand he reached into a little pouch at his waist.

"You know what I call people like you?" he asked, trying to distract the warlords' lieutenant. "What's that?" Traslek's mouth curved up at the corners in a confident smirk. His backup was nearly here.

"Prey."

Jacek threw a ceramic ball at Traslek's feet, making sure he held his breath as the ball smashed on the ground. Sickly smoke poured out of the bomb, clouding up into Traslek's and the soldiers' faces. They began to cough and wheeze, clutching at their throats and doubling over. Jacek grabbed the girl's wrist and yanked her after him as he charged through one of the men to the side, slamming him against the next man where they fell in a heap on the floor. The two cut through the kitchen, thankfully empty at this time of night, and made for the door at the back. Even with Jacek's long legs, somehow the girl managed to stay on her feet as she was dragged behind him. She still made no noise. If it wasn't for the fact he was holding her wrist, he wouldn't know she was there. It felt tiny in his giant hand.

The door to outside was a heavy wooden one. Unfortunately it opened inward, so Jacek couldn't just smash it open with his shoulder. He had to slow down to open it, letting go of the girl as he had his axe in the other hand. The door swung open to reveal the courtyard beyond, lightly covered in white.

Footsteps crunching on the freshly fallen snow, they rushed across in the dark to the gate in the east wall. Once through, Jacek smashed another ceramic ball on the castle side to block their escape.

He made for the copse of trees nearby where Bandur was waiting for him. The mutt was hard to see amongst the trees with his dark fur, but Jacek heard the telltale sound of crunching snow where he was moving around in excitement. Waning moonlight caught frosted breath from the dog under a tree ahead. His only friend was more loyal than any human could ever be.

Bandur ran to meet Jacek, bobbing his head under his master's hand. The mercenary put his axe away in its loop on his belt and kneeled down to greet his friend, who licked his face enthusiastically. Then a growl came from Bandur's throat as the girl approached.

"It's alright boy." He turned to look at the young girl, rubbing the back of his neck, vacillating. That thin shift wasn't going to do much for her out here. And she had no shoes. He let out a heavy breath. He couldn't leave her now. So what was he going to do with her? She was a liability, plain and simple.

She stepped into a band of moonlight, looking wary. It was then Jacek finally noticed what it was that had been niggling at him about her.

Between strands of dirty white hair on either side of her head, two distinct fleshy points stuck out. Jacek had never seen one before apart from rock paintings. No one had. They had been extinct for three hundred years.

But the girl was clearly an elf.