The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

proper. The first Kaaliph had built his palace out of an existing cave system. The cool interior of the north wall made it the most desirable location within the natural walls of the city. Other important personages occupied other cave dwellings, like the Rover enclave. Most of the others had to settle for these makeshift dwellings against the massive boulders.
    Darkness, darker than the dark night, filled the palace entrance. Yaassima had never allowed shadows anywhere near a vulnerable portal. She had ordered torches shifted every few minutes to illuminate different sectors and her guards firmly fixed in the doorway at all times. In the old days, an assassin or thief had no place to hide and no gaps to penetrate.
    Piedro kept his torches stationary and his guards moving. He had Yaassima’s ruthlessness but not her cunning. Rollett had discovered in the last year and a half that most Rovers rarely thought beyond “today.” They loved the open road and met each day with joy at being alive, and each crisis as it came. Plans for “tomorrow” were useless because “tomorrow” might never come.
    The Rovers trapped in Hanassa frequently indulged in violent brawls and self-inflicted wounds. The lack of open roads and a wandering way of life tore at their sanity.
    Piedro exhibited the typical shortsightedness of his race. His capricious cruelty could be a sign of his growing loss of reason.
    Rollett watched the seemingly random movements of the guards until he saw a pattern. Humans found comfort in routines. Hardened assassins, thieves, and terrorists imposed chaos but worked best within the limits of their own ordered regularity. Within a few moments Rollett knew when and how to walk through the front gate of the palace without challenge.
    “One at a time, slide through the doorway on my command. Go all the way to the Justice Hall as quickly and quietly as you can. Don’t wait for the rest of us until you get to the Justice Hall,” he ordered the line of men hugging the wall behind him. “Now!” he pushed the first man forward.
    One by one Rollett’s raiders infiltrated the palace. Rollett feared that the prospect of fresh food might make them reckless. Fortunately, the caution bred into them by years of outlawry prevailed. In short order, Rollett was the only man left to enter.
    He waited a few more heartbeats to make sure the guards’ pattern of movements held true. The man on the left, the one who carried a spear, faltered.
    Rollett stopped in mid-step. His balance teetered. As quietly as he could, he planted both feet on the ground and recovered just before he fell flat on his face.
    The guard scratched his crotch, belched, and moved on.
    But now the guard on the right had turned in his patrol and faced the doorway.
    Rollett held his breath, willing the guards to resume their normal pattern. Two more passes and a gap in their vigilance appeared again. Rollett wrapped a shadow around himself and slipped through. He’d only had to use a minor magic trick to divert the guards.
    Too easy. He’d made eleven raids on the palace stores. In every one, he’d had to fight for each morsel of food he gained.
    The hair on the back of his neck stood up. All the senses available to him jumped to alert. He paused at the first alcove inside the gateway to listen.
    Nothing. So far, no one followed. He proceeded toward the rendezvous, watching every flicker of torchlight for signs of a trap.
    By the time he had wound his way to the Justice Hall, all his senses tingled with uneasy rawness. Something was wrong. This was too easy.
    He paused outside the broad archway leading into the largest chamber in the palace complex, the temple to the winged demon Simurgh—the only one left in all of Kardia Hodos. Locals called it the Justice Hall now. Rollett hadn’t observed much justice dispensed from here—only cruel punishments by Yaassima and then her successors.
    He listened with his ears and his mind, pinpointing each of his men as they sneezed, shuffled their feet, or murmured a question. So far, none of Piedro’s guards shared the huge hall. Where were they? Usually he had to dodge a dozen or more just to get this far.
    Slowly he eased around the archway, keeping his shadow cloak close and solid. He’d pay for the magic trick later in hunger and exhaustion. Better to be tired and hungry than dead.
    Stargods! He wanted to get home. Ending the Great Wars of Disruption and establishing the Commune of Magicians had been