Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

could still whup you with one hand…”
    He stopped. A dozen men had begun shouting from the main entrance, Gart’s voice the loudest.
    “Stay here,” Senke told Haern. “Lock the door. I’ll go see what’s going on.”
    Senke closed the door behind him, waited until he heard Haern lock it, then hurried toward the entrance. He saw a few thieves dashing around the corner, too far ahead for him to ask questions. Gart’s shouts were the only ones that he could understand above the throng, and what he heard filled his gut with lead.
    “Guards, guards!” shouted Gart. “We got guards to smash!”
    Senke dashed through a dining room, turned left down a hallway, then hooked toward the main entrance. Over a hundred thieves lined up along the windows facing the front of the house. Gart towered among them, staring and pointing.
    “What is going on here?” Senke shouted.
    “Soldiers!” Gart shouted, spinning to greet Senke. “Royal soldiers too! They showed up and started surrounding the place. I count at least five hundred. We got heads to smash, boys, and lots of them!”
    While Gart might have been enthused, Senke’s face paled. The soldiers had arrived too soon. Thren wasn’t even there yet. What was wrong with them? Why had Gerand not waited for his signal?
    “We need to delay them,” Senke said. “Hold the doors as best we can.”
    “They got armor,” one rogue beside them argued. “Plate mail, for cripes’ sake. Helmets, shields, swords … we got daggers and leather. What the fuck you think we can do against that?”
    “I expect you to kill them,” Senke shouted, a bit of his hardness returning. “Or do you really think they’ll let you live if you run out the door with your hands up and your tail between your legs?”
    Gart pulled Senke aside and lowered his voice.
    “We got a traitor among us,” Gart said. “How else did the soldiers come so quick? So who might it be?”
    “Not a clue,” Senke lied. “We need to hold. Perhaps once the fire is set, we can escape during the commotion.”
    “Or we’ll roast like roaches.”
    The two leaders stared eye to eye.
    “I don’t see any other way,” Senke said.
    “Then we fight,” Gart grumbled. “And we hope Thren arrives with enough men to save the day.”
    “They’re coming,” several shouted at once. The soldiers rushed through the gates, swarming like metallic ants. They surrounded the complex, this time within the gate instead of without. Most wielded long swords and shields, though some held halberds, spears, and giant mauls. Four carried a thick log with metal handles bolted into the wood.
    The men with the log approached the door, a squad of ten protecting them.
    “Hold the door,” Senke said, taking a step back. “I’ll guard the back.”
    “Better hurry,” Gart said. “And you better hope Norris hasn’t lost his spine and run!”
    Senke had barely left before the surrounding soldiers with mauls smashed in the windows all throughout the lower level. Soldiers poured inside, through far more windows than there were thieves to guard. Senke drew his sword and cut down the first to come near. A second soldier tried to use his shield to block, but Senke rolled atop it, over his head, and then thrust his sword through the shoulder blade. The sounds of battle erupted throughout the mansion.
    When he reached the dining hall he found the door open. Haern was gone.

CHAPTER
34
    W ith the first shattering of glass, Haern flung open the door to see the cause. Armored soldiers stood before the windows, swinging enormous mauls that easily bashed through the glass and layered the carpet with shards. Soldiers flowed in through the unguarded windows. He felt torn between relief and worry. Relief because the king’s involvement would certainly prevent his father’s plans from going as they should. Worry because they’d kill him just as easily as any other member of the thief guilds.
    Well, not as easily
, he thought with a wry smile. His daggers in hand, he turned right and bolted deeper into the mansion. If there was any hope of escape, he’d try to find it in the back sections. If he was lucky he might slip out through an unwatched window, as he had fleeing Robert Haern’s home.
    Haern was too fast for the initial wave in the hallway to catch him, but as he burst through the door at the end he found himself in the middle of an armory. Three soldiers approached, their shields leading. Haern rolled to one side, lashing underneath