Broken Crossroads (Knights of the Shadows Book 1) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Patrick LeClerc
endearments, and protests that he had to return to his post before he was noticed, and she swore to keep the secret. Soon the pair dressed and left, carefully pausing at the door to listen before exiting.
When the door closed, the thief and the warrior shook with silent laughter.
“Alright,” she gasped quietly, “that was an obstacle I hadn't foreseen.”
Conn wiped his eyes. “To almost be found by the enemy because the guards were neglecting their duty. What a bitter irony that would be.”
He grinned. “You'd think a gentleman would at least take his boots off,” he whispered.
She convulsed with quiet laughter and punched him in the arm. Raised eyebrows cautioning him to curb his sense of humor.
“And such a romantic location.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook for a moment. He leaned close and breathed in her ear.
“The enchanting beauty of musty dropcloths. The heady scent of dust that sets hearts alight…”
She breathed back, “Never will they smell mildew again without thinking of this tender moment.”
* * *
“I was happy, I suppose. Until the leader of the troupe told me if I wanted to go up, I'd have to go down.” The sparkle in her eyes was the cold glint off a sword's point.
“I'm not a prude or an innocent. But I won't be used that way. I'll sell my skills, but not my body. If I choose to please a man, it's because I want to. Not because I want something from him. I ran again. Only this time I was prepared. My old teachers learned very soon that I would not be trifled with. I could get into places that everyone thought were secure, make a knife appear from thin air, and vanish into the shadows.”
* * *
Soon they made their way to the door to the cellar. It was locked, but that proved no real challenge. As he followed the thief down the stairs, Conn began to wonder if he were necessary at all. He was happy just not to have tripped over anything and brought the whole household down on them.
When they reached the bottom, Trilisean walked purposefully through the wine cellar to a shelf, then motioned Conn to her. “Help me slide this section over.”
He grasped the stout shelf and leaned into it. The section moved aside fairly easily, revealing a stone door cut into the wall.
* * *
“And you need me…why?” he asked.
“It's a two person job. I need a good man in a fight for this part right here.” She pulled a scroll and unrolled it. It was a careful floor plan of the house, with copious notes inked in various colors indicating guard routes, locks, alarms, hours of use of various rooms. Conn had to admit it was quite impressive. He followed her gesture to a central room.
“I can beat this lock,” she said, “but when I do, alarms will go off and bring the garrison down. I need you to hold them off and buy us the time to get through.”
“How long do you need?” he asked, sipping at his tea.
She smiled her most innocent smile.
“Not a clue.”
* * *
Conn shoved some shelves aside to make a crude defense. He set them to make a triangle, with the wall and door at his back and an opening at the point to channel their assault. The guards would only be able to come at him from one direction. Better to leave a path open and decide the enemy's approach for him than to block the whole area and let them devise a plan. The guards would rush at the opening.
He strapped his small, round leather shield to his left arm, then took his dirk in his left hand, holding it so the point jutted some inches beyond the bottom edge of the shield. He drew his sword with his right, flexed his wrists, stretched his legs and took up position just inside the makeshift fort. He turned to her and nodded.
Trilisean took out her picks and set her attention to the lock.
* * *
“I made my way as a thief. I worked small at first. My needs were modest,” she smiled with the phrase. “I got to know a fence. He would filter gossip to me. Things clients
When the door closed, the thief and the warrior shook with silent laughter.
“Alright,” she gasped quietly, “that was an obstacle I hadn't foreseen.”
Conn wiped his eyes. “To almost be found by the enemy because the guards were neglecting their duty. What a bitter irony that would be.”
He grinned. “You'd think a gentleman would at least take his boots off,” he whispered.
She convulsed with quiet laughter and punched him in the arm. Raised eyebrows cautioning him to curb his sense of humor.
“And such a romantic location.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook for a moment. He leaned close and breathed in her ear.
“The enchanting beauty of musty dropcloths. The heady scent of dust that sets hearts alight…”
She breathed back, “Never will they smell mildew again without thinking of this tender moment.”
* * *
“I was happy, I suppose. Until the leader of the troupe told me if I wanted to go up, I'd have to go down.” The sparkle in her eyes was the cold glint off a sword's point.
“I'm not a prude or an innocent. But I won't be used that way. I'll sell my skills, but not my body. If I choose to please a man, it's because I want to. Not because I want something from him. I ran again. Only this time I was prepared. My old teachers learned very soon that I would not be trifled with. I could get into places that everyone thought were secure, make a knife appear from thin air, and vanish into the shadows.”
* * *
Soon they made their way to the door to the cellar. It was locked, but that proved no real challenge. As he followed the thief down the stairs, Conn began to wonder if he were necessary at all. He was happy just not to have tripped over anything and brought the whole household down on them.
When they reached the bottom, Trilisean walked purposefully through the wine cellar to a shelf, then motioned Conn to her. “Help me slide this section over.”
He grasped the stout shelf and leaned into it. The section moved aside fairly easily, revealing a stone door cut into the wall.
* * *
“And you need me…why?” he asked.
“It's a two person job. I need a good man in a fight for this part right here.” She pulled a scroll and unrolled it. It was a careful floor plan of the house, with copious notes inked in various colors indicating guard routes, locks, alarms, hours of use of various rooms. Conn had to admit it was quite impressive. He followed her gesture to a central room.
“I can beat this lock,” she said, “but when I do, alarms will go off and bring the garrison down. I need you to hold them off and buy us the time to get through.”
“How long do you need?” he asked, sipping at his tea.
She smiled her most innocent smile.
“Not a clue.”
* * *
Conn shoved some shelves aside to make a crude defense. He set them to make a triangle, with the wall and door at his back and an opening at the point to channel their assault. The guards would only be able to come at him from one direction. Better to leave a path open and decide the enemy's approach for him than to block the whole area and let them devise a plan. The guards would rush at the opening.
He strapped his small, round leather shield to his left arm, then took his dirk in his left hand, holding it so the point jutted some inches beyond the bottom edge of the shield. He drew his sword with his right, flexed his wrists, stretched his legs and took up position just inside the makeshift fort. He turned to her and nodded.
Trilisean took out her picks and set her attention to the lock.
* * *
“I made my way as a thief. I worked small at first. My needs were modest,” she smiled with the phrase. “I got to know a fence. He would filter gossip to me. Things clients
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