To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2)(94)

Yajna followed and retrieved the hook. The three of them crept along the shadows of the prison building until they reached the northwest corner. Yavi flattened himself against the wall, then carefully peered around it. The Vyrkune around the campfire were thoroughly engrossed in their meal, so Yavi looked over his shoulder at his brother, then motioned Jiandra to climb on his back. With her in tow, he bolted stealthily toward the cart that stood in the center of the yard. He ducked behind it to wait for Yajna to join them.

They peered up at the wall of the guard tower at the back of the palace. It was a tall turret, almost too high for the grappling hook, but if they could hook to a window ledge on the northern curve of it, they could slip inside unnoticed. Yavi nodded at Yajna, who crept forward with the hook in hand. He swung it around a few times, then tossed it upwards. It failed to catch, plummeting to the snowy ground below with a soft thud.

Yavi tensed, peering through the slats of the wooden cart at the group of Vyrkune. They were still fully engaged in their raucous, bloody feast, so he nodded at Yajna to try again.

Again the hook failed to catch, and Yajna pulled it back to himself. He slunk along in the shadow of the cart until he was at the very far edge, almost in the line of sight of the Vyrkune, then swung it around and quickly tossed it up.

It caught, and Yavi breathed a sigh of relief. He nodded at Yajna and kept one hand on the hilt of his scimitar while his brother started to climb up. Yavi waited a few seconds to give Yajna some lead time, peering through the cart slats at the group of Vyrkune to make sure they were still distracted, then hurried to the shadows of the palace wall with Jiandra on his back. He ducked out of sight around the curve of the turret and looked up. Yajna was high up on the rope, almost at the window’s ledge. In a few seconds, he disappeared inside, then reappeared to motion Yavi to follow.

Yavi grabbed the rope and began to scale the wall, praying that despite the slightly larger silhouette he and Jiandra formed together, the Vyrkune wouldn’t notice anything amiss. When he reached the window ledge, Yajna leaned over to help his wife inside first. Yavi followed and pulled the line quickly up behind him.

The inside of the guard tower was dark and quiet, so they hurried down a dim hallway that led to Yavi’s wing. They stopped at a wooden door before entering the wing, and Yavi pressed his ear to it to listen. Hearing nothing in the hallway, he opened the door just a crack to peer inside.

The hallway was quiet, but a torch was lit at the far end, between his study and his bedroom. Uman had no doubt already claimed the emperor’s quarters, and could possibly be inside one of the two rooms. They would need to proceed with caution.

“There’s a torch lit. Wait here until I search my bedroom,” Yavi whispered over his shoulder.

“What if someone’s in there and you get attacked?” Jiandra whispered back.

“I’ll grab the sword and jump out a window if someone’s in there and I can’t escape out the door. If I don’t come out of the bedroom in thirty seconds, you two make your escape and meet me by the horses.”

Yajna nodded, and Jiandra fell silent.

Yavi carefully opened the door wide enough to slip through, then left it cracked so his brother could keep watch. Yavi hurried noiselessly down the passageway, halting at his study door and stopping to listen. There was no sound from inside, so he continued on to his bedroom door.

Heavy footsteps approached from around the corner, and Yavi quickly ducked inside his room, bracing himself for a fight in case someone was inside. The room was dark and quiet, so he hurried to the stand that held his father’s sword at the far wall, groping for the large hilt in the darkness.

His hand touched the empty stand, groping over the slats. The sword was gone.

The bedroom door opened, and Yavi slipped into the corner crevice between the bookshelf and the wall, not daring to breathe. His senses were on high alert, listening for any clue as to who had entered and how many of them there were.

Sniffing. The creature could smell him. As footsteps came closer, Yavi shoved the heavy wooden shelf forward, daggers and weapons clattering loudly to the stone floor as the weight of the shelf knocked the intruder off his feet.

Yavi lifted the shelf aside and grabbed the creature up by the front of his leather armor.

Uman’s gruesome face peered up at him, first in shock, then in a leering grin. “Zulfikar twin. I don’t know which one, but that hardly matters, does it?” He raised a clawed hand to strike.

Yavi punched him in the face as hard as he could, hearing the cartilage in Uman’s nose break. He howled in pain as dark blood streaked across his pale, cracked skin.

“Where is my father’s sword?” Yavi shouted, hoping his brother would hear.

“Oh, you mean the black one I found here in my quarters?” Uman clawed at Yavi’s wrists, managing to wrench his hands off. He shoved Yavi aside and rose to his feet. “I gave it to Terijin. He’d had his eye on it for a while, he said.”

Yavi drew his scimitar in a fluid motion, whirled, and sliced through Uman’s leather breastplate. One of the chains attached to his shoulder padding broke, but the armor protected his rotting flesh inside. Yavi shoved a boot into Uman’s chest, and the creature staggered back a bit. He fell into the washstand, toppling Yavi’s pitcher and bowl. They shattered loudly on the stone floor as Uman caught himself against the wall, then turned to glare at Yavi. He growled and rushed forward, but Yavi ducked away from his grasp, leapt on top of the toppled bookshelf, and jumped down on the other side.