Troy Denning - The Verdant Passage

“Tithian is certainly a clever fellow,” remarked Jaseela sarcastically. “I would never have thought to solve the worker shortage by enslaving beggars.”

“I wonder if it has occurred to Tithian that the king’s half-giants would do much better on the ziggurat than our slaves or these paupers?” Agis asked, glancing at Jaseela.

“I’m certain it has, but have you ever known a half-giant to give an honest day’s labor?” Jaseela countered. “Besides, if he made slaves of the king’s guard, who would keep the Veiled Alliance in line?”

Below the Red Kank’s balcony, a pauper broke away from the slave rope and sprinted for the alley. A half-giant lumbered after the escapee, roaring with excitement. He caught the unfortunate wretch in front of the suphouse, knocking the starving beggar into the wall with a well-aimed blow of the bone club.

The guard stopped a few feet from the balcony and peered up at the nobles. “Nice smash, eh?” he chortled, displaying his bloody club.

As that moment, a silver flash flared behind the guard and a clap of thunder rolled across the square. Agis looked toward the sound and saw a different half-giant crashing to the cobblestones, a smoking hole in the center of his back.

The guard in front of the Red Kank slowly turned and searched the square. “What’s happening?”

An alarmed murmur rustled across the square, and the king’s men stopped collecting slaves to look at their fallen comrade. Suddenly golden bolts of energy shot from shop windows and alleys all around the square, striking templars and half-giants with unnerving accuracy. Several black-robed bureaucrats collapsed. Others disappeared into the crowd. Some of the half-giants took the attacks without falling. They only roared in pain and clutched at the hideous burns that marked them wherever the golden beams had struck.

The guard in front of the Red Kank stood with his back to the nobles, looking from one side of the square to the other.

“Agis, look!” Jaseela pointed at a form standing behind the counter of a nearby shop.

The figure wore a blue robe with a white veil pulled across his face. From beneath the veil protruded a small yellow tube, directed at a wounded half-giant a quarter of the way across the square. As the nobles watched, a handful of shimmering balls streaked out of the tube. When they hit the wounded guard, they erupted into sprays of brilliant flame. The half-giant dropped without making a sound.

The guard in front of the Red Kank raised his club and started toward the figure, but paused when someone in the square called, “Watch out, there’s another!”

Out of a nearby alley streamed a crackling flame, coming from the outstretched fingers of a blue-robed figure to scorch another guard’s head.

“Sorcerers!” Agis gasped. “It has to be the Veiled Alliance!”

A nearby templar scooped three stones off the ground. “In the name of Mighty Kalak, let these missiles strike dead the enemies of the king!”

The templar tossed the stones at the wizard attacking with the fire stream. As soon as he released them, all three shot through the air like arrows and struck their target square in the forehead. The sorcerer collapsed, spraying the alley walls with great gouts of effulgent flame.

The half-giant in front of the suphouse stepped toward the first sorcerer that had revealed himself. In the same instant, Jaseela pulled a steel stiletto from beneath her cloak.

“What are you doing?” Agis asked.

“Joining the fight,” Jaseela returned. “How about you?”

With that, she hopped onto the wall and dropped down onto the guard’s back. As the noblewoman landed, she threw her free arm over the half-giant’s shoulder and reached around his massive neck, burying her stiletto deep into the guard’s soft throat.

The half-giant bellowed in rage. After dropping his club, he grabbed at Jaseela’s head with one massive hand and at her stiletto with the other.

Agis watched the noblewoman’s attack with a sense of detached shock. In the flash of an eye, Jaseela had declared herself in full rebellion against Kalak. If someone later identified her as a participant in the ambush, which seemed likely given the number of people in the square, her lands would be confiscated and orders issued to kill her on sight.

Jaseela ducked the half-giant’s clumsy grasp, then slipped down his back, still clinging to her dagger. The blade opened a long gash in the guard’s throat, then suddenly came free. The noblewoman dropped the rest of the way to ground, her arm soaked with dark blood.

The half-giant spun around. He held a massive hand across the gash in his throat, but could not stop the flow. Bright red bubbles appeared between his fingers. He gurgled an unintelligible threat and lifted his free hand to strike.

Realizing that even a wounded half-giant could crush the noblewoman with just one blow, Agis took a deep breath and prepared to help her. With a little bit of luck, he could use the Way to save Jaseela and no one would ever know.

The noble focused his thoughts on his energy nexus, then made a fist and turned the knuckles toward the guard’s chest. In his mind he imagined a mystical rope of energy flowing from his nexus into his arm. Agis mentally shaped the energy he had summoned into a huge fist. He drew his arm back and punched at the guard, simultaneously releasing his psionic attack.

The invisible fist struck its target square in the chest. The half-giant rocked back on his massive heels, but did not fall. Instead, he shook his ponderous brow and peered more closely at Jaseela, then slapped her with the heel of his open hand. An astonished cry escaped the noblewoman’s lips as the blow sent her crashing into the suphouse wall. She collapsed to the ground, and the half-giant reached down to pick her up.

Agis cursed himself for being tentative and subtle when he should have been bold. He had used the Way not because it was the best method of saving Jaseela, but because he was afraid to overtly involve himself in the revolt. Jaseela had shown no such hesitations. She had seen what was right and done it in an instant.

As the half-giant’s fingers closed around Jaseela’s limp body, Agis drew his dagger and climbed onto the edge of the balcony. “Up here!” be called.

The half-giant looked up, blood still seeping from between the fingers clasped about his throat. Agis dropped off the balcony. He landed on the guard’s shoulder and stabbed at his foe’s eye with all his might. The dagger sank to the hilt. The half-giant screamed and spun away, spilling Agis onto the cobblestones next to Jaseela. The huge brute plucked the dagger from his eye and stumbled away in pain and shock. A few steps later he finally dropped to the ground.

Agis turned to Jaseela. The noblewoman’s eyes were closed and her breathing shallow. He ran his hand over the back of her head and felt a huge knot forming where it had struck the wall. She was covered with blood, but he could not tell how much of it was hers and how much was from the dead guard.

Agis poked his head into the shadowy door of the Red Kank. “Caro!” he yelled. “I need you!”

Though he had no doubt the other three nobles were also inside the suphouse, he did not bother calling them. If he was disappointed in himself for letting Jaseela attack alone, he was disgusted with them for abandoning her altogether. Besides, he and Caro would have an easier time getting the noblewoman out of the Elven Market if there was more than one group of nobles for greedy pickpockets and vengeful templars to follow.

As Agis turned away from the Red Kank, he saw that the elven merchants had fallen upon the templars. He knew the elves were more interested in stealing the bureaucrats’ fat purses than resisting Kalak’s oppression, but he was glad for the diversion. The more chaotic the scene in Shadow Square, the less likely templar informers would be to take note of him and Jaseela.