Redemption (Ascendancy Legacy 6) Read online

  Ascendancy Redemption

  Bradford Bates

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Bradford Bates

  Copyright © 2016 by Bradford Bates

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Any inquiries may be addressed via email to [email protected]

  This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this work are used fictitiously or are entirely fictional.

  Cover designed by Rebecca Frank http://bookcovers.rebeccafrank.design

  Editing by Courtney Umphress http://www.courtneyumphress.com

  If you would like to be notified when the next novel by Bradford Bates is going to be released sign up for his mailing list Mailing List Sign Up

  Your email address will never be shared or sold, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

  This book is dedicated to my wife. The one person who thought it wasn’t completely crazy for me to quit my job to try and follow a dream.

  Chapter One

  Lucky, 368 A.D.

  There was no way to hide it. I was a thief through and through. Nothing made me happier than removing some extra gold from a pompous windbag and redistributing the wealth. Robin Hood got all the headlines, and that was fine by me. I’d always preferred to work in the shadows. So when a mysterious stranger showed up with a job offer to do just that, I was easily persuaded.

  The tavern was crowded tonight, but when I approached the bar, two men moved to the side, allowing me room to order a drink. That was the kind of respect you earned when you saved the local farmers from starving to death in the winter. They might have also known that after I retrieved my first flagon of ale, I would be moving to the back of the tavern and my reserved booth.

  The owner of the inn and I came to an arrangement ten years ago. I paid him a fair price for making sure no one sat in my booth unless, of course, I invited them. On top of that price, after a large job, I normally purchased a round of drinks for the house, netting him a few extra silvers or maybe even a gold coin for his troubles. So imagine my surprise when I ambled back to my own private sanctuary only to find a man violating the privacy of my booth.

  When I approached, the man stood and motioned toward the bar for another round. It seemed odd to me that he would do that, since he wouldn’t be staying seated for long. I slid into my seat and fixed the man with a glare. “Seems as though you might be lost, friend.”

  The man stared silently back at me, as if appraising my worth. If subtle wasn’t going to work, then I would have to try something else. “I think you missed my point. This is my booth, and I’d appreciate it if you made yourself scarce.”

  The man continued to stare at me as the owner brought us a pitcher of his best beer and set it down. I met his eye, and he just shrugged and waggeled his fingers together in the universal sign of money. Now it started to make a little more sense. The man was here to offer me a job. He had to be, and yet he had an odd way of going about things. Normally by now I’d be haggling over price. Since he didn’t seem inclined to talk yet, I sat back and drank my ale, listening to snippets of conversation from around the bar. There was no better way to keep your finger on the pulse of the city than to listen to folks griping at the bar.

  I turned back to the man and found his stormy gray eyes locked onto mine. I held his gaze, waiting for something else to happen other than this dreadful silence. In fact, I had already contemplated calling it a night more than once. Life was too short for this shit. If this man wasn’t going to get on with the job offer, then I’d find somewhere else to drink tonight.

  I was sliding out of the booth when he finally broke his silence. “I have a job for you.”

  “Well, thank God. For a while there, I thought we were going to just have a staring contest.” He didn’t look like a man who would understand or appreciate sarcasm, but I was willing to try.

  “There is a box in Grayson’s Keep. I need you to acquire its contents.”

  “And just what is in the box?”

  He gave me a flat stare. “The contents of the box are not important.”

  “Actually, it is important. I need to know so I can plan accordingly. Will I be stealing the entire box or just what’s inside? Weight could be a factor. I work alone, so I can’t haul around a steel box. Or is it something specific in the box you want me to take?”

  “It should be filled with gold and maybe some gems. I’m interested in any gems that might be found within. I will let you keep three-quarters of what you take, more if the gem I am looking for is secured.”

  “Sounds to me like you’ve put a great deal of thought into this.” That always made me a little bit twitchy. Most men were more of the spur-of-the-moment kind when it came to stealing. Few and far between were the men who truly planned their insidious endeavors.

  “Then you won’t be surprised about these.” He pulled out a set of detailed plans for the keep and handed them to me.

  The location of the guards and their patrols outside of the keep were detailed, as well as the timing of various deliveries. That meant he either worked at the keep or knew someone who did. From the looks of the plans, the inside of the keep was lightly patrolled and almost never on the second floor. Whoever the master was there didn’t want people in his business.

  “When do you need your task completed?”

  “I can only vouch for the quality of this information for three days.”

  “Not exactly what I asked, but it gives me a timetable to work with. I’ll have to leave right away, or else this information will be meaningless. If there is any kind of significant departure from the plan or what we have spoken about, then I reserve the right to abandon the job at any time. If that happens, I will return your plans and return the deposit for the job.”

  “Does that kind of thing happen often?”

  “Only when the client isn’t upfront about the nature of the task at hand.” He pulled out a small bag of coins while standing to leave and tossed it onto the table. I motioned for him to sit back down. “I’d prefer it if I left first. In fact, why don’t you stay for another drink?”

  He looked at me, and a hint of agitation crossed his features. He clearly wasn’t someone used to taking orders, and probably resented the fact that I had given him one, even if the order was phrased more like a suggestion. I wanted to make sure he didn’t follow me right away, so I had to keep him busy. No one got the best of Lucky.

  “Gentlemen,” I called out to the bar as I stood up with a flourish. “My friend here said that he hasn’t tasted a better ale in all of his travels. Because of the great enjoyment it has
brought him tonight, he has offered to cover the cost of the next round for the entire house.” I flashed him a smile and made my way to the door.

  He tried to stand and follow, but men continued to intercept him and shake his hand, offering thanks for his generosity. I slipped out of the bar and ducked into the forest surrounding the inn. A few minutes later, a harried and disheveled man stepped out into the cool night air. He looked both directions, hoping to catch a glimpse of me, but there was none to be found.

  He shook his head in confusion or anger, and then the door opened behind him. He swore and tossed a coin to the innkeeper before stalking toward his horse. He untied the great beast from the hitching post. Looking in both directions, he finally made a decision and spurred his mount forward.

  I slipped out of the trees and headed back for the entrance of the inn. I wasn’t done drinking yet. In fact, I think the barkeep owed me a drink for all of the business I just brought him. As I stepped back in, several men moved out of the crowd to sit at my table.

  One of them made a sour face. “I didn’t like the look of him.”

  “Me either, but a job is a job.” I spread the plans over the table and motioned for the barkeep to bring me a pitcher of ale. I wouldn’t be receiving the relaxing night off that I had planned, but I always loved the night before a heist. As much as the men grumbling around me complained, I knew they loved it too.

  Making it into the keep should have been the hard part if what my client said was true. The schematics he provided showed guard posts and positions. So far, they had been spot on, making the trip into the keep the easy part. Nothing was ever this easy in my line of work; that meant the other shoe was going to drop soon enough. Sticking to the shadows, I moved around the keep until I found the wall I was looking for. The grappling hook sailed through the air. No one seemed to notice the faint clink of steel hitting the stone. I tugged until the line was tight, and started to scale the wall.

  This was the riskiest part of the job by far. Although the wall was covered in shadow, it would be hard to miss the black-cloaked figure scaling the side of the building if you looked directly at him. Please ignore the man in the cloak. Nothing to see here.

  I made it to the top slightly out of breath. Too many nights in the tavern this month, and not enough mornings spent working out. A fat thief was often a dead thief. As much as it pained me to do so, I resolved myself to the fact that there would be a few more early morning training sessions in my future.

  The next part of the job was going to be a little more acrobatic than I liked. Especially now that my arms were already burning with the exertion of the previous climb. Maybe a few less meat pies were in my future as well. I tossed my hook again and waited to see if anyone noticed the initial sound, before pulling it into place. The excess rope went over the side of the building, and I prepared for my leap of faith. I had to shimmy down the wall a good ten feet before I could start to swing. Soon I was moving back and forth at a pretty good clip. The window ledge I had to reach was about four feet below me and eight feet away.

  The wind tickled at my hair as my swing reached the furthest point away from the window. This was it. When my hands let go of the rope, I felt a moment of sheer terror. I was sure that I would miss the ledge, and my career as a famous thief would come crashing to an end. Instead, I almost overshot it. My chest slammed into the ledge, and the air shot out of my lungs with a whoosh. I pulled myself onto the ledge, making sure to stay on the side of the sill that was covered in shadows. It was sheer luck that the two guards marching down the hallway hadn’t heard the noise I had made in my graceful attempt to land. They didn’t call me Lucky for nothing, although the guards in the hall might have thrown my luck into question. What other surprises did Grayson’s Keep have for me?

  “It will be easy, he said. There won’t be any guards upstairs.” Well, he was wrong. It wasn’t going to be easy going forward, and there were guards. Now that I had made it this far in, there was nothing I could do but try and complete the job. Turning away now seemed like a waste.

  Thirty minutes had ticked by while I watched the guards patrol. Two sets of guards moved up and down the hallway in opposite directions. They made their rotation every forty-five seconds, as far as I could tell.

  It was going to be tricky, and I just had to hope the box was unlocked like the man said it would be. None of his other information had been false except for the guards on the upper floor. If the box was locked, I’d be in for one hell of a night. That was if I decided not to turn and run. That wouldn’t be happening. If the box was locked, this job was forfeit. He could have his gold coin. I didn’t plan on dying here. All for nothing, and nothing for all—the old phrase leapt into my head, and an involuntary smile creased my lips. It was go time.

  The guards passed each other, and I jumped from my spot in the window, landing silently behind them. I dashed across the hallway and into the open chamber beyond.

  Forty-five seconds to go.

  At least there was an actual box, and it was right where the man said it would be. The worst part was I could see the huge iron lock that had been placed on it even as I crossed the room. Reaching inside of my cloak, I pulled out my tools. Screw it; I was going to give it a go.

  Thirty seconds left.

  The lock was well maintained, but I used a little more oil before sliding the pick in. The tumblers clicked into place one at a time, and then the lock popped open. The small sound thundered against the silence of the room, but the guards had to be at their furthest point away from me now.

  Twenty seconds to go.

  The chest slid open, and inside was a white stone. The thing almost seemed to shine in the dark. It was so bright, I was afraid it would give me away. I tucked the stone into my cloak, and then filled up four small satchels of gold, and a smaller bag of gems.

  Ten seconds left.

  I closed the chest and replaced the lock, darting to the side of the entrance just before the guards crossed the threshold. I held my breath, waiting for them to call out and signal the alarm, but they didn’t make a sound, and their footsteps stayed even until four sets of steps became one for an instant and then separated again. I sprinted across the hallway and dove for the raised window. The tips of my fingers brushed against the stone lip and started to slide.

  Was this it? How the famous William Fletcher was going to get caught? It would look poor on my tombstone. Here lies William Fletcher. He was lucky until his luck ran out. My fingers caught just on the edge. Somehow I held on, but time was running out. I inched my tired fingers forward, securing my grip, and pulled myself up onto the sill. I jumped out into the night, trusting that my rope was still there. The hemp rope had been worn smooth by its constant use. I slid down for a moment when I grabbed it. I had to be thankful for smooth rope and the fact that my hands hadn’t burned during the slide. As soon as I came to a stop, I knew I was home free.

  I tucked the bottom of the rope into my belt. It would be faster to pull it up onto the ramparts if most of the rope was already with me. Speed was the name of the game now. All I had to do was make it out, and we had the biggest payday of our careers. The last thing any good thief did was leave anything to chance. When I reached the roof, I coiled the rope and placed it inside of my pouch next to the gold and the gems. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small square of paper. I tossed it into the air, and it ignited for a brief second, and the world fell quickly back into darkness.

  It was a neat little trick, and I had no idea how the man made them, but it was the perfect way for me to signal my men to start moving. From here, it was a simple matter of getting the timing right. If I was off even by a fraction of a second, I would go splat onto the hard cobbles below.

  The next part was incredibly fun, or possibly terrifying, depending on how much you trusted yourself and your partners. I had done it enough that it felt routine, but still, as I waited to run, I felt a chill of anticipation wash over me. The cart full of hay was already moving toward
the wall. There was just enough time for me to make the leap.

  The cart trundled forward, and I started to run. Jumping I sailed through the air, one foot landing briefly on the top of the rampart before I flung myself out into the starry night. I sailed over the narrow outer wall with grace that almost seemed inhuman, and landed in the back of the hay cart with a soft whump. The hay exploded around me for a second, and then I was buried in its golden embrace. Laughter bubbled from my lips. We had done it again.

  “Quiet back there. Last time I checked, hay didn’t laugh,” Dunstin’s gruff voice called out.

  “Relax, friend. I’m sure your silvery tongue could explain it away.”

  “This tongue and what it chooses to explain or not to explain depends heavily on how many swords are pointed at me at the time the explanation is required.”

  “Then this hay shall remain silent until we are safely away.”

  A guffaw escaped him. I didn’t know if it was meant for me or the horses. All that we had to do now was divvy up the loot. One bag for the mysterious stranger, one for the crew, and two to be spread around to the people that needed it most. Robin Hood might have gotten all the glory, and no one had ever heard of William Fletcher. That was just the way I aimed to keep it.

  Two hours later, the cart came to a stop, and I heard the barn doors close. With some effort, I managed to crawl to the edge of the cart. My dismount was a little less spectacular. By less spectacular, I mean I fell to the ground in a pile of hay and managed to land hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs and bruise my backside. That was me, master thief and master of cart dismounts.

  There was just enough air back in my lungs for me to greet our mysterious benefactor. “Well met, good sir.”

  “Same to you, Lucky. I take it your mission was a success.”

  I kind of liked the ring of that. My mission, it sounded so much nobler than stealing. “It was.” I reached inside of my tunic and pulled out the entire bag of gems and a small bag of gold. In my experience, people tended to ask fewer questions and were more likely not to try and kill you if you gave them more than what they asked for.