Rage of the Diamond's Eye (The Guildsmen Series Book 1) Read online

  “What about the Highguard? They support him in this?”

  “The Highlord comes with the support of the entire guard,” Lynth answered with a finality that sent chills down Sajiix’s spine.

  “Then there is nothing to be done,” Sajiix sighed after a moment’s pause. In this, the Magi knew he was correct. Even during his most tolerant moments, Highlord Bragas had no love for the other races of Vasalius. Sajiix had no knowledge of who had stolen the Purestone – something that aggravated him, considering his network of information was one of the best.

  “There must be something we can do, Sajiix Mirhan,” murmured Lynth as if reading the Magi’s mind. “Can you not gather your companions, as we did as cubs? When Herebreus gathered you all to quest for the Purestone, you were a force to be reckoned with…what is wrong, friend Sajiix?”

  The Magi’s countenance had changed to the extent that even Lynth took notice. His green eyes became cold, his mouth set in a firm line. “They are out of the question, Lynth. We no longer travel in the same circles.”

  A small burst of wind came through the doors of the balcony, causing the candle light to flicker. A low rumble of thunder rolled across the treetops of Emeryvale. “A storm approaches,” whispered Sajiix.

  “More than you know,” Lynth replied back. “I have done what I sought to do and must now return to assist in the search for the thieves.”

  Sajiix’s eyes refocused on the panther. “You have a force in Kaalmoore right now?”

  A wary silence fell between the two Magi. Lynth stepped back toward the open balcony, while Sajiix followed, moving away from the fireplace. The Zynnashan pulled the hood of his cloak back over his fur-covered head and stepped backward onto the balcony.

  “Only me. I am tracking the thieves. The trail leads from a coastal village named Valdine and along the Tebis’non River,” Lynth answered. “I believe if I can find the diamond before any blood is shed, I may be able to convince the Highlord to call back the army.”

  Sajiix calculated the trajectory of the trail and could barely suppress his shock. “Valdine to Kaalé,” he murmured. “Lynth – that’s the heartland of Kaalmoore. There is nothing between Valdine and Kaalé but villages and farms, with a small town now and again. Most of these people have never seen a Zynnashan. They will all be slaughtered.”

  The Zynnashan once again folded his clawed hands into the sleeves of his cloak. “Ask your Elementai for aid,” Lynth told him, referring to the council of Magi that ruled the Arcanum. “And if they will not help, ask King Jalled for his help in finding the diamond. Beg him to send his knights to meet my people – for the taint of war is already upon them. Perhaps a show of force by the humans will help deter the Highlord from following this path.”

  Sajiix shook his head emphatically. “To warn the King would be a waste of time. I will speak to the Elementai and see if they can help us avoid innocent deaths.”

  “There is no avoiding anything, Sajiix Mirhan,” Lynth growled as he stepped further back onto the balcony. Lightning flashed over the Arcanum, bathing everything in a deep violet. “The armies of Zynnasha are already near your northern shores. You cannot stop the oncoming battle, but we may be able to prevent a war.

  “I will find you again,” promised Lynth, his voice fading as he used his magic to meld into the shadows.

  Another slow rumble of thunder heralded a light shower. A sudden gust of wind sprayed the Magi with cold autumn rain, blowing a number of candles out behind him. Sajiix ignored it, turned, and walked briskly to the front entrance that led deeper into the Amethyst Tower. A plan of action formed in his mind as he exited his suite, waving his foci over the door latch to lock it. The Purestone was within his grasp and if he could time it correctly, he could find the thieves and take control of the diamond before anyone knew what had happened.

  2

  Valdine lay sprawled along the mouth of the Tebis’non River on the northern edge of Kaalmoore, overlooking the murky waves of the Greywater Sea. It was a wealthy, lazy town populated by wealthy, lazy people. The inhabitants of Valdine did not go to work for their money – the money came to them in the form of river trading. The Tebis’non allowed ships from overseas to travel into Kaalmoore’s northern interior, while the river waters brought barges from within, allowing trade from dozens of villages and towns. All imported goods and all exported materials – whether it was steelstone, woodberry wine, or pomyl leaf, all of it passed through Valdine for a hefty price.

  The town was relatively young compared to the rest of Kaalmoore, but it grew quickly – almost too fast. The original merchants became wealthy and hired others to do the physical labor. Eventually, the laborers became wealthy, left their employers and started their own businesses, hiring even more people to do their work. This led to the current state of affairs in Valdine – six different cultural levels, all of them rising above the other, each one more successful than the one before it.

  Many individuals flocked to the coastal city, hoping to be hired by one of the river masters or wheel captains and eventually make their own fortune. Others came to Valdine to partake in the decadence that permeated the streets. With so many rich citizens, it was only a matter of time before their tastes were not easily sated by common luxuries. Prostitution and gambling were such a common occurrence, the local Lord (Cousin to King Jalled), decided to make them legal vices and taxed the profits. There was a gambling hall and brothel on every level of Valdine’s tiered streets and no one seemed to mind so long as the King received his tax income and local crime was swiftly dealt with.

  It was a rough atmosphere for one not familiar with such depravities. There were no Lords or Ladies on the street, at least, not in their fine wardrobe with their servants scurrying behind. No, if there were any Lords or Ladies on the streets of Valdine – they were in disguise so as not to alarm their people on how lurid their hobbies were. The inhabitants of Valdine swirled along her streets like the currents of the Tebis’non. There was a vibe here that no other town or city could match; unwholesome, yes, but exciting.

  Tair’Lianne Vettis took another deep breath, letting the scent of salty sea water and river mist wash over her. She stood upon the upper level of a two-story gambling house called the River’s Luck and watched as people marched along the cobbled street below. Many of them were locals; all dressed in what they thought was finery. The men wore high breeches and silk shirts with fine woolen cloaks of brightly dyed colors, while the women folk wore silk dresses with wide skirts of muted pinks, greens and blues with feathered hats of matching color and veils to cover their painted faces. A few of the women carried dainty umbrellas that matched the texture and color of their outfits.

  Tair’Lianne shook her head in bafflement. Try as she might, she could never understand the behavior of the rich. It was not a subject she dwelled upon often, but when confronted by it, Tair would always recite the personal oath she made to herself, swearing that when she got rich, she would never act above her station, she would never throw her gold away, and would never wear clothes like that. As far as Tair was concerned the only thing a wealthy person was good for was the gold you could steal from them. As she watched the procession below her, she subconsciously selected a number of marks she could easily make a profit from. These people must have known that thievery – especially pick pocketing – was quite popular here in Valdine, but they went on without a care. It was an activity that Tair postponed for later once Myst was done with her own brand of profit-mongering.

  Reluctantly, Tair pushed herself away from the chest-high railing that lined the second floor level and stepped back into the muggy interior of the River’s Luck. Even the onset of a cool autumn night did little to remove the stifling heat and humidity of so many patrons wedged together in one of Valdine’s most popular gambling halls. The smell of sweat, leather, damp cloth, alcohol, and boiled mudbugs made Tair nearly choke. She shouldered past a giggling couple who were clearly intent on reaching one of the “resting rooms” that lined the
upper level and leaned over an intricate wrought-iron balustrade that wrapped around the entire second floor, allowing her to see the entire game floor below. Two large chandeliers crafted from crystal and brass hung just out of reach of Tair, their thick candlewicks guttering in the melting wax.

  A distorted symphony of voices floated past her, some laughed boisterously, while others cursed their ill-luck. Hearty conversations between men concerning river business and whispered musings between women on the latest gossip concerning Valdine also reached Tair’s ears, but she ignored all of it. Her attention was drawn to one of the four round tables in the hall’s center. Five individuals sat around it, all of them holding thin wooden discs painted with various different pictures. It was a game known as Bard’s Bluff; a game Tair had no love for, but one that allowed her and her companion, Mystrianna Almdor, to put coins in their pockets.

  Myst – as she liked to be known – was the only woman at the table. She held her discs close to her chin, her green eyes briefly scanning the other four men around her. Tair knew that Myst was watching the other men’s “tells”, allowing her to know when they were “bluffing” or when to pull her money out of the pile at the center. The men, however, were having a difficult time keeping their eyes off of Myst. Her closely cropped hair was as red as the autumn leaves of Emeryvale, and her large eyes were as green as the robes of an Emerald Magi. She had already unlaced the top of her black sleeveless tunic – an idea given to her by Tair to distract the players and hopefully cause them to lose more of their weighted coin. The men obviously had a problem, for they could not avoid staring at Myst’s ample bosom, or her sculpted arms of sun-touched bronze.

  Tair suggested to Myst that she play the part of the naïve girl who was curious about the game. She could lose a few rounds and then take the slobbering fools for all they had. Myst, however, would not have it. She had said that it was bad enough she was using her body to physically distract the men, but she would not dishonor the game by cheating. Tair rolled her eyes at the mere thought of the word honor. It was a handicap that kept her and Myst away from becoming truly successful. She loved her friend, but sometimes Myst’s honorable ideals were a bane to their dishonorable schemes.

  Luckily, tonight would be the exception.

  Myst’s carefully watched pile of gold and silver crowns was steadily growing, while three of her four playing companions thought nothing of it. Only one man seemed immune to Myst’s charm and cleavage. He was thin and olive-skinned, wearing a thick, black moustache and trimmed beard. Dark eyes hovered over a hawkish nose, his spidery hands tapping the warped table his discs lay upon. He wore the deep maroon tabard of the Celvette Clan over a sweat-stained green tunic. Tair knew that the Celvettes were number two on the hierarchy of wealthy clans in Valdine. She also knew they owned this particular gambling hall.

  It was dangerous to try to cheat a gambling hall in Valdine. But no one could blame the men for poor playing, now could they? It wasn’t Myst’s fault that all of them were gaping at her and not paying attention to the game. This clansman, however, seemed to ignore or see through the distraction. He was watching Myst’s actions rather than her attributes.

  Tair smiled as Myst laid down her discs – all of them were painted red and four out of five had a woman’s face on them. All four men groaned, tossing their discs down upon the table with rickety clacks. As Myst scooped the pile of coins towards her, Tair noticed the clansman talking to a stern-faced spectator who wore a shirt of chain mail under the red Celvette tabard and had a rather large sword at his side. Tair started as the clansman nodded toward Myst – who missed the exchange as she counted her new winnings.

  “Time for us to leave,” Tair muttered as more discs were handed out to the five players. It would not be the first time someone mistook Myst’s skill for cheating. There had been many heads that were bashed over it, many taverns and inns they were kicked out of. Unfortunately, in Valdine, they hanged people out with the crows if they were suspected of cheating.

  Tair slid her body along the balustrade, edging her way to Myst’s line of vision. The swordsman was also making his way through the growing spectators. He was moving slowly, not wanting to draw the ire or attention of the hall’s customers. All Myst had to do was look up from her disks and she would see Tair standing on the level above. Regrettably, she was intent on the discs in front of her.

  Tair tried clearing her throat, each one louder than the next. When that did not work, she tried exaggerated arm and hand movements. These made her not only look stupid, but failed to get Myst’s attention. Sighing irritably, she turned her eyes once more to the swordsman and was surprised to find him looking right at her.

  Tair immediately looked away, her heart thrumming loudly in her chest. She looked down to the game players, kept her eyes on anything but the swordsman. Once more she tried to signal Myst and was quite pleased to see that she was now looking up at her with disbelief colored with anger. Tair also noted that all the other players were now looking up at her, along with the swordsman and the Celvette clansman. She whirled her body around, half expecting to see a boorsliig berserker looming over her. But there was nothing.

  “Bring her down!” shouted the clansman. “Let us show her and her partner what we do with cheating scum!”

  Tair turned back to the game tables below and saw that the swordsman and a fellow player had grabbed Myst’s arms on either side. She was standing now, her game discs scattered across the smooth grain of the playing table. The young woman stood taller than her fellow gamer and was even with the sword carrying thug. The Clansman was pointing at Tair, while three men were charging up the stairs to her level, each one armed with long steel.

  “What did you do?” Myst shouted, her arms flexing against the two men that held on to her.

  “Me?” Tair shouted back. She suddenly realized that the hall had become silent, every gambler, merchant, river tramp, and whore had stopped to see the drama unfolding before their eyes. She looked down at the table at the angry gamer looking up at her and at the collection of discs he still held in his hand, discs easily readable by Tair. “I wasn’t reading his discs!” she yelled to the clansman. “I wasn’t trying to…” It was no use. The clansman had murder in his eyes and the three men ordered to take her had reached the second level, their steps slow and deliberate. Each man had a hand on the hilt of their swords.

  There was no chance they could talk their way out of it.

  The crowd had begun to chant, “Get the cheaters” as the guardsmen neared Tair. Two were on her left, one on her right. Her gloved fingers began to wiggle in anticipation for the two daggers sheathed on her hips. She eyed Myst, giving her a non-verbal signal that it was time for their emergency exit strategy. Myst acknowledged Tair’s signal and squared her body evenly against the dusty floor.

  Tair’s breathing became even, but her blood raced with adrenaline. She looked down to a spot upon the gaming table below, just off center of where Myst stood. The clansman was still there, confident in his guards.

  That’s always their mistake, she thought with a knowing smile. She propped a leather boot upon the railing that overlooked the bottom floor and heaved. Tair leaped gracefully over the balustrade, tucked in her legs, and rolled in the air twice before landing lightly in the exact spot she had intended. Before he could even register any sort of expression, Tair kicked the gamer holding Myst’s left arm in the face, knocking him backward and keeping him there. Once the man was down, Myst flipped the swordsman holding her right arm onto the table. Discs and coins scattered with a piercing jangle, causing many patrons to add to the chaos as they dove for the rolling gold and silver pieces. With a quick reach behind her back, Myst unsheathed a long, wide blade and kept the sharpened tip upon the man’s throat.

  Seeing his personal guard laying on the flat of his back and the others still up on the second level of the hall, the clansman began to back away from the table. He was able to take three steps before Tair was standing next to him with a sh
ort, but very sharp, dagger pressed against his cheek. Moving behind the wiry clansman, Tair kept the dagger pointed at his face, while another dagger cleared a path behind her as she waved it at those patrons who were not chasing all of their hard-earned money across the floor.

  Delivering a bare-knuckle punch to the swordsman lying sprawled on the table; Myst stunned her own captive and quickly moved to Tair’s side. Both women looked at each other and the door right behind them. Freedom was only six steps away.

  “What were you doing up there?” Myst demanded with a throaty growl. “I had this game won; I didn’t need you to cheat for me.”

  “I wasn’t trying to cheat for you! I was trying to tell you that this fool was about to have you arrested,” snapped Tair with a quick prod of her dagger at the clansman’s neck.

  “Do not try to lie to me about your dishonest character,” he spat back. “Clan Celvette will not rest until I am free and your lifeless bodies are swaying on the gibbet.”

  Both women rolled their eyes at a promise they had heard many times before. Reaching the large wooden door that led out onto the streets of Valdine, Myst gave the clansman’s backside a hard shove with her boot. The man staggered forward, falling to his knees. Without another word, Tair and Myst stepped out and slammed the door behind them.

  The street outside was still filled with revelers, not a one had any clue as to the events inside the River’s Luck. Myst held the door firmly with her shoulder, allowing Tair to take a nearby broom handle and jam it into the square handle of the door latch, effectively barring the door from the outside and, hopefully, giving the two women time to escape. Without a second look at the door, Myst and Tair strolled away from the building.

  The pair was well out of sight when the broom handle snapped and the clansman and his squad tumbled out of the door. Twilight had given way to night and the scant light coming from the gas lanterns along the muddy streets did little to illuminate anyone who walked by. The clansman touched the small gash on his cheek, his pride burning away any common sense. He ordered his men out to search for the two women he promised would hang.