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  SHIELD KNIGHT: TWO THIEVES

  Jonathan Moeller

  ***

  Description

  Selene was once the deadly Scythe of the Maledicti, the lethal assassin of Urd Maelwyn.

  Now she is the spymaster of the kindly Queen Mara.

  So when muridach raiders attack one of Queen Mara's caravans, they might have bitten off more than they can chew.

  Because Selene looks after her friends...

  ***

  Copyright

  Shield Knight: Two Thieves

  Copyright 2019 by Jonathan Moeller.

  Smashwords Edition.

  Cover image copyright RF License : STANDARD | Print & Web | Unlimited Digital Impressions, up to 250,000 Prints neostock-s010-liepa-medieval-assassin-54 - Original file (2889x5616 pixels) & RF License : STANDARD | Print & Web | Unlimited Digital Impressions, up to 250,000 Prints neostock-s013-mandy-demon-hunter-94 - Original file (2839x5465 pixels) & ID 159146928 © Scaliger | Dreamstime.com.

  Ebook edition published December 2019.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law.

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  Author's Note

  The events in SHIELD KNIGHT: TWO THIEVES take place between the novels DRAGONTIARNA: THIEVES and DRAGONTIARNA: GATES.

  ***

  Chapter 1: Drinking Games

  Moriah Rhosmor was not quite drunk, but she had gone a considerable distance down the path.

  She did not often drink to excess. Moriah had been a thief for all her adult life until recently, and such a dangerous life required self-control and discipline. Drinking too much was an excellent way to end up robbed or dead in the gutter with a knife between the ribs.

  That said, she had gotten deliberately drunk a few times, just to test where her limits were. As it happened, she had a surprising capacity for alcohol. She was taller than average for a woman of Andomhaim, and therefore slightly heavier, so it took longer for wine and spirits to affect her.

  Though she was getting close to her limit now.

  “Another cup?” said the Lady Selene of Nightmane Forest.

  “Thank you, but no,” said Moriah. “Too much more, and I will fall out of my saddle on the way back to Cintarra.”

  Selene grinned. “Yes, it would be an ignominious end for the legendary Wraith.”

  “Most ends are ignominious,” said Moriah.

  She sat in a chair in Selene’s sitting room in Queen Mara’s castra outside of the city of Cintarra. Most of the fortress’s inhabitants were Anathgrimm soldiers, and the Anathgrimm orcs were a stern, austere people, regarding comforts and luxuries as contemptible and unworthy of a true warrior. While Queen Mara herself was not quite so severe, she almost always wore either simple, dark clothing or dark elven armor.

  Selene, by contrast, wore a rich blue gown with black trim on the hems and sleeves. Her shining silver hair had been braided into an elaborate crown. Her silver eyes were stark and eerie in her angular, pale face, and the points of her elven ears seemed quite pronounced. Selene looked beautiful in a wintry, alien sort of way. Her sitting room was no less opulent, with a thick carpet and ornate tapestries hanging on the walls. None of the luxuries reduced the fact that Selene was a very dangerous woman – Moriah had seen her fight and wield magic.

  Of course, Moriah supposed a former urdhracos would always be dangerous.

  “Well,” said Selene. “It depends on the circumstances. When you had Hadrian Vindon tied up on his own serving platter, as it were, that would have been an ignominious time for him to die.”

  Moriah shook her head. “I didn’t kill him. I’m a thief, not a murderer.”

  “You used to be a thief,” said Selene with a quick grin. “Now you’re a spymaster. It’s all about the timing.” She swirled her cup of wine and took another sip. Moriah felt a flush from the wine she had drunk, but none of it seemed to touch Selene. Evidently, former urdhracosi could hold their liquor. “I have something of the same office from Queen Mara. See, cousin Third is an excellent warrior, and Prince Jager is very good with money…”

  “But they need someone to spy for them,” said Moriah.

  “Yes, all monarchs need spies,” said Selene, “and Queen Mara is no different. Of course, Queen Mara is allied with High King Arandar, so we shouldn’t be enemies. Which I am glad to say. We’ve all gone into considerable danger together, so we shouldn’t be foes.”

  “Agreed,” said Moriah.

  “Also, I would like to compliment you for Hadrian Vindon,” said Selene. She laughed at the memory. “The expression on Cyprian’s face when the servants lifted the lid on the platter was quite priceless. It must have been difficult to manage.”

  “It wasn’t difficult,” said Moriah. She shook her head. “No, that’s not right. It wasn’t complicated, let’s say. It took some bribes at the right time and some drugs into Hadrian’s wine. The man drank too much, so it was easy to slip a sleeping draught into his cup. After that, it was just a matter of some hard work.”

  “Then it wasn’t the most daring theft you ever pulled off?” said Selene.

  “Certainly not,” said Moriah. She shifted her ankles, smoothing her green riding skirt. “Some of the thefts I pulled off in the old days with Delwen and Gunther, those were daring. I didn’t have the wraithcloak or the dwarven armor back then. We had to rely on our wits. We…” She sighed, remembering her lost friends, killed in the Shadow Ways beneath Cintarra. “It was hard work, and we were always running short of money. But those were good years. It seems odd to think of it now.”

  “Aye, I understand,” said Selene. “When I went with the Shield Knight and the Keeper and cousin Third to Najaris and Urd Maelwyn and Cathair Animus, we almost died a thousand times. Probably more than that, if I bothered to take the time to count. But I was traveling with friends for the first time in my life, and I have lived for a very long time. Not long by the standards of cousin Third, of course, but still a long time compared to a normal human span.”

  “So,” said Moriah. “What was the most daring theft you ever managed?”

  “Me?” said Selene, blinking her silver eyes.

  “You were talking of timing. You weren’t always Queen Mara’s spymaster.”

  “No,” said Selene. “They used to call me the Scythe of the Maledicti. I was their assassin.” Her eyes grew distant at some dark memory. “I used to do more killing than stealing.” Then a manic grin went over her face. “But! There was one time I did steal something…well, the story is too long to tell.”

  “We have time,” said Moriah. She didn’t need to be back in Cintarra for a few hours yet. Most of the network of informers she was building worked at night anyway. “And I need to wait for my head to settle a bit before I climb back into the saddle.”

  “Ah, splendid,” said Selene. “Because things really did work out quite well in the end. This is what happened…”

  ***

  Chapter 2: Aenesium

  It was just over a year ago, in the city of Aenesium, the capital of the High Kingdom of Owyllain.

  There are two things you have to understand about Owyllain. No, three, actually three things you have to know to understand Owyllain and its people.

  First, iron is incredibly rare in Owyllain. As far as I know, there is not a single iron mine anywhere on the continent. And I ought to know – the dark elven lord called the Soverei
gn once ruled most of the continent, and if there was iron anywhere to be mined, he would have found it. I don’t know why – Khurazalin once said that the ancient wars of the high elves and the dark elves had destroyed all the iron ore on the continent when a powerful spell went awry, but he might have been spinning a tale. But tin and copper are very common, so most of the warriors of Owyllain, whether human, orcish, muridach, or xiatami, wield weapons and wear armor of bronze.

  Second, there were no horses in Owyllain for a long time. There used to be, but the Sovereign didn’t use them, and the horses of the gray elves all died when they retreated to Cathair Caedyn in the Illicaeryn Jungles. The jungle isn’t good for horses. Connmar Pendragon brought horses to Owyllain, but the Sovereign saw them as a threat, so he made sure they all died. But the Sovereign’s dead himself now, permanently this time, and so horses can come back to Owyllain.

  What? Oh, yes, the third thing, I almost forgot. Among the humans of Owyllain, there are three times as many women as men. That’s the Sovereign’s fault, as well. All the men marched to war to fight the Sovereign’s armies, so they died a lot. The women stayed behind to work the shops and plant the fields. Because there were so many more women than men, it became common for a man to have one wife and as many concubines as he could support.

  I can see from your expression you do not approve of the idea.

  Neither did Calliande, when one of King Hektor’s daughters wanted to be Ridmark’s concubine. But to the men and women of Owyllain, it’s the custom. They think it is a woman’s duty to have as many children as she can, for else the Sovereign’s armies would have depopulated their realm centuries ago. I suspect that will change now that the Guardians Rhodruthain and Morigna opened a permanent gate from Tarlion to Aenesium. I have heard that numerous women from Owyllain have sought husbands from Tarlion, so it appears change is coming.

  Change can bring chaos, but as Prince Jager says, chaos brings opportunity. As it turns out, the men of Owyllain have a great appetite for steel and horses and other things that are not available in their realm. For that matter, they have things that Andomhaim does not – silk and spices and red dye.

  So Nightmane Forest has begun trading a great deal with Owyllain, thanks to Prince Jager. About a year ago, I went with one of those trading caravans through the gate to Aenesium. Queen Mara sent some horses and steel ingots to High King Kothlaric as a gift, and he sent back spices and silk.

  What is Aenesium like? It looks a great deal like Cintarra, come to think of it. Both Andomhaim and Owyllain are descended from the Empire of the Romans of Old Earth, so the architecture is much the same – lots of brick, tiled roofs, round arches, and octagonal towers. Aenesium’s outer walls are red since they’re built of granite, and it’s much hotter in Owyllain than it is here. The kind of gowns that you and I are wearing would be totally unsuitable for Owyllain – we would sweat through them in about a quarter of an hour.

  The Anathgrimm and I took the horses to the Palace of the High Kings and secured the steel ingots in a warehouse in Aenesium’s harbor district. The men of Owyllain have more ships than Andomhaim does since the Nine Cities of Owyllain all have harbors, but the ocean currents are just as treacherous, so their ships keep close to the coasts.

  Once I made sure the ingots were stored and the Anathgrimm housed at an inn (with stern instructions not to kill anyone), I went to visit an old friend.

  Sir Tamlin Thunderbolt is a Companion of the High King and an Arcanius Knight, which means that the High King of Owyllain gifted him a house. He has a pleasant three-story domus, with an airy interior courtyard. I opened the front door and stepped into the entry hall.

  One of Tamlin’s saurtyri servants greeted me.

  You’ve never seen a saurtyri? They look like fat, ambulatory lizards, about the height of a human child of ten or eleven years or so. They’re placid and docile and attach themselves to a strong protector in exchange for service. They found the lords and knights of Owyllain more amenable masters than anyone else on the continent, so most of the tribes of saurtyri are in High King Kothlaric’s domain. None of them have come to Andomhaim, so far as I know.

  “Zuredek,” I said. “Is Tamlin here?”

  “Lady Selene,” growled Zuredek. “Tamlin Lord is in the courtyard. Come this way.”

  I followed Zuredek into the interior courtyard. When I had been here last, the courtyard had been bare and unadorned, paved in flagstones with only a few benches for comfort. Tamlin and his friends spent their time here drinking, practicing at arms, and then drinking some more. But by then, his wife Tamara Earthcaller had lived with him for about two years, and I saw definite signs of her touch everywhere. Portions of the floor had been dug out and a vegetable garden planted. Stone pots held flowering bushes that let out a pleasant scent.

  Tamlin Thunderbolt sat on one of the stone benches. He hadn’t let two years of peace weaken him, and he was still lean and fit, with thick black hair and green eyes. Though I suppose Owyllain hasn’t been entirely peaceful. The War of the Seven Swords was over, but the Visage still ruled in Urd Maelwyn, and she had most of the Confessor’s army. The pagan jotunmiri had been stirred up in the Cloak Mountains, and the orcs of Vhalorast and the other pagan city-states remained hostile to Owyllain. Which is why the Anathgrimm have so much lucrative mercenary work in Owyllain.

  Tamlin's wife Tamara Earthcaller sat next to him, their son in her arms. Tamara is the most powerful of the Arcanii, and she has one blue eye and one purple one. It was always strange to see her because I had killed her a bunch of times.

  What? Oh, yes, I should explain. Tamara used to be Talitha, the Master of the Order of the Arcanii. She realized the Sovereign intended to trick Owyllain with the Seven Swords, but since she was mortally wounded and would die with the secret, she had the Guardian Rhodruthain use the Sword of Life to split her life into seven shards, one of which would survive to fight the Sovereign and the Seven Swords. The Maledicti tried to hunt down all the shards, and since I was the Scythe of the Maledicti, I killed her several times.

  Yes, I know, it’s complicated.

  But we were all friends now, and Tamlin grinned when he saw me and got to his feet.

  “Tamlin Lord,” grunted Zuredek. “Lady Selene comes.”

  “So I see,” said Tamlin. “Go to tell Michael that we’ll have guests for dinner tonight.”

  Tamara rose as well, smiling. She was tall for a human woman, almost as tall as I am, and wore the sort of sleeveless red dress with a long skirt favored by many women of Owyllain. In her arms, she carried their son and firstborn Aegeus, named for Tamlin’s friend Aegeus who had died fighting the Necromancer of Trojas. The boy was about a year old, and he had Tamlin’s green eyes and Tamara’s features and hair.

  “You will stay for dinner, won’t you?” said Tamara.

  “Oh, certainly,” I said. “Walking from Tarlion to Aenesium tires a woman out. Of course, cousin Third had to walk all that way through the Deeps, and I just walked through the gate, but I’d still want the dinner.”

  What? No, Tamlin didn’t have any concubines, and he won’t take any. See, he met one of Talitha’s shards in Urd Maelwyn, fell in love with her, and then the Maledictus Khurazalin figured out who she was and killed her in front of him. In hindsight, Khurazalin really would have saved himself a lot of trouble if he had killed Tamlin, but Khurazalin was always too clever for his own good.

  Then when fighting the Necromancer in Trojas, Tamlin met another of Talitha’s shards, fell for her, and Khurazalin killed her in front of him. Again.

  I don’t think he ever really got over it, so when he met Tamara…he’d do anything she asked of him, including chopping off his manhood. Which I know she won’t ever ask, because we spent a lot of time traveling together, and as soon as we stopped to camp for the night, they would go off to what they thought was out of earshot (but wasn’t) and I could hear that she appreciated his manhood far too much to…

  What? Oh, yes, I’ve gotten off track agai
n. This doesn’t have anything to do with the theft, but I’m leading up to it.

  Anyway, Tamlin didn’t have any concubines for Tamara to command, so Tamlin’s seneschal Michael and the saurtyri servants made dinner, and we ate a fine meal in the courtyard. The men of Owyllain are very fond of dates and olive oil and flatbread that can be baked in a hurry, so we ate a great deal of that. We talked about trade and news from Andomhaim and all the work that Kothlaric Pendragon had done to bring the disorder of the War of the Seven Swords to an end. Tamara fed Aegeus a mash made from fruit, explaining (with the nervous detail of a mother with her first child) that she was introducing foods to his diet other than her milk.

  Eventually, Tamara went to put Aegeus to bed.

  “He seems bigger,” I said.

  Tamlin smiled. “Babies generally do that, I’m told. How is the daughter of the Shield Knight and the Keeper?”

  “Loud,” I said, thinking of the one time I met the little girl. “And devious. Once she learned to walk, she started escaping from her nurses at every opportunity.”

  “Nurses?” said Tamlin, startled.

  “Yes, Ridmark finally convinced Calliande to hire nurses to help her,” I said. “You know what she is like. She will try to give all her attention to her children and the duties of the Keeper at the same time, and then run herself to exhaustion in the process. Ridmark even let High King Arandar make him the Comes of Castarium so he would have enough income to hire more nurses and servants.”

  “I’ll have to ask Ridmark how he did that,” said Tamlin. “Tamara spends all her time either with Aegeus or training the new Arcanii. She could use a few women to help her…”

  I grinned. “Get a few concubines. The wife has the right to command her husband’s concubines.”

  He gave me a flat look. “No.”

  I shrugged. “Then get Tamara pregnant again.” His eyebrows rose. “The first child, she’ll want to do everything herself. The second time, she’ll know how much work it is and be willing to accept help.”