Masquerades - Kate Novak [59]
Rain began to drizzle into the warehouse as the skylight shutters were thrust aside. Someone above lowered a lantern down to the warehouse floor, and a moment later whispered, "All clear." Five rope ladders rolled down into the warehouse, and five figures began climbing down each ladder. They all wore dark clothes and caps and domino masks-the costume of the Night Masks.
All but one of the Night Masks were armed with daggers and heavy dwarven hammers. The one exception was a tall, heavy man with long, puffed-out black hair, which he had not bothered to tuck into a cap. Inexplicably, he wore a scabbard and sword. The scabbard caught in a ladder-rung, and its wearer, while extricating it, lost his footing and fell the last three feet to the warehouse floor. He landed with a thump and a curse.
Alias had to cover her mouth to keep her laughter in. Several other Night Masks laughed, but one, apparently their leader, hissed, "Silence," and they all shut up instantly.
"We're in," the leader called up to the roof. Someone above cut loose the rope ladders and slid the hatch doors back over the skylight. He'll keep lookout from up there, Alias realized. She made a mental note to collect him from the roof when they'd taken the others.
The leader pointed to three men, saying, "You open the wagon door and take care of the watchman out there. The rest of you start shifting the wine."
Alias put two fingers to her tongue and whistled.
At that signal, twenty halflings pulled back the shutters on their lanterns, bathing the Night Masks in a bright yellow glow. The Night Masks all jumped in surprise, but lost no time drawing their weapons and turning outward in a defensive circle.
Alias stepped out from behind the crates and into the light. She held her sword at the ready. "If you put down your weapons and surrender, you won't be harmed," she said.
"It's that common she-dog the Dhostars hired," the Night Mask with the sword shouted, advancing on Alias with his blade. "Kill her now and our names are made!"
All around the warehouse, the restraining locks on the halflings' crossbows clicked off. The swordsman halted in his tracks.
The Night Mask leader, a tall, well-muscled, fair-skinned woman, pulled the man back by his shirt. "Let's be reasonable," she said, addressing the halflings in the loft rather than Alias. Her accent screamed Zhentil Keep, and Alias instantly detested her. "There is more than enough here for all. What say you arrived late, chased us off, and managed to save only, mmm, a third of the shipment? Yes, a third would be reasonable. Or we can arrange to move that amount for you, privately, if you wish to tell Lady Nettel you lost everything."
"You seem to forget," Alias said, stepping forward until she was directly in front of the tall woman, "that we have you surrounded."
The Zhentish woman grinned wolfishly at Alias. "You forget, we have your precious wine hostage." She motioned swiftly with her hand, and, before any of the halflings could react, one of her men slammed his heavy dwarven hammer into the base of the nearest wine barrel, smashing the wood to splinters.
Instead of wine gushing to the floor, only dry bits of wood clattered about the hammerer's feet. In a fury, he smashed at a second barrel. Without warning, the lid of a third barrel popped open, and a slightly rattled Olive Ruskettle rolled out, shouting, "Surrender or die!"
The hammerer aimed a blow at the halfling, who yelped and dived for cover as half a dozen crossbow bolts pierced her would-be attacker. The hammerer fell to the floor and remained still.
About half the Night Masks threw down their weapons, but the rest dived for the cover of the crates. Six were hit by more crossbow bolts and joined their comrade on the floor. Three of those remaining began making for the halflings in the loft. The first one up the ladder to the loft caught a crossbow bolt and a halfling foot in his face. He fell back, landing with muffled thump.
Alias