XX
"That just leaves you," said the barbarian,
nodding his head at the mercenary captain.
"You’ve been quick to question the rest of us. What is your story?"
"It’s the plainest story there is," said the captain
with a grin and a jerk of his thumb in Sir Garath’s direction. "That one’s payin’ me to go in, so in I
go. Me an’ me band, that is."
Artis snorted. "You’re
going in for a wage? You might be the
craziest one of us all."
"A hefty wage," said the captain. "An’ hopefully a little more besides."
"Captain Dursk is taking my share in whatever treasure
we find, and that of my squire," said Sir Garath. "I have little interest in gold. I already have more than enough."
"You mentioned a band," said Myrio. "Who are they? How many?"
"Me, an’ seven others," said Dursk. "Seven o’ the toughest bastards south o’
the steppes. There used to be more of
us, but as I said, we been fightin’ northmen."
"I don’t care how tough they are," said
Myrio. "Can they be trusted?"
"Once I take a man’s gold, I do the job in front of
me. I ain’t never broken a contract, an’
I never will."
"It’s true," said Sir Garath. "The captain’s reputation is impeccable,
or I would never have hired him on."
"I’ll vouch for him," said Krago, his bare chest
shaking with suppressed laughter. The
captain raised his eyebrow quizzically. "I
was with King Aelgar when he tried to bribe you over to our side. A chest of gold he sent, but our good captain
returned it with a note attached. Do you remember what it said?"
"Aye, I remember."
"Stick your gold up your arse, it said. An eloquent man you’re not, but I give you
points for honesty and loyalty. The king
laughed about it for days."
"I’ll be loyal," said Captain Dursk. "If you count on nothin’ else, count on
that."
XXI
Everything whirled around him, a clash of shattered images
and sounds. Teeth on steel. A flashing sword, a spray of blood. Flecks of black ash floating in his
eyes. Screaming, so much screaming.
No backward
steps. I'm coming for you, father.
With the platform at his back, he stood his ground as the
beast-men swarmed around him. There were
so many of them, but their sharp rocks and bones were no match for his mail
shirt, and their rags in turn gave no protection against his stout sword. They rushed forward, snarling and clawing,
and he fought back with savage chops and thrusts until the ground around him
was thick with corpses.
"Fool boy!" he heard Sir Garath shout from behind
him. "Fall back before you're torn
to pieces!"
He couldn't. He knew
he should have retreated, knew that he should have been in a state of panic,
but he wasn't. He felt calm, and
determined, as though every beast-men he felled brought him one step closer to
his father.
Then something thundered into his helm, and his head rang
like a bell. He staggered back into the
platform, saw a bloody stone fall to the floor.
Rough hands seized him by the arms and throat, and through the sounds of
snarling he could hear a dim voice shouting something.
He was scratched and torn, battered and shaken. His whole world became a blur of fangs and
sharp nails, and flaring pain. Then a
flash of steel passed before his eyes, and a spray of blood washed over
him. The nails and teeth disappeared,
replaced by shrieks of panic and the sounds of blades on flesh.
Jonn looked up, and saw Captain Dursk whirling his blade
about him, chuckling grimly. The savage Kejakena
was at his side, his rich cloak flowing about him, his mace breaking bone and
skull. Sad-eyed, pale Eracos fought with
his shoulders slumped, almost as though he expected defeat, yet he was no less
deadly with his two-handed sword.
Balric, the sour-faced knight in his battered breastplate, barrelled
through with his shield held forth, and the three women followed in his
wake. The Desert Scorpions were as
silent in battle as at any other time, but with every thrust of their spears a
beast-man died. And towering over them
all, sweeping his sword like a massive scythe, was the giant Orguss, his single
eye blazing like the heart of a volcano.
Jonn tried to rise, to heft his own sword and rejoin the
fray, but his head felt strangely hollow, and a wave of nausea brought him back
to his knees. The beast-men were in
disarray, and those that lived were scrambling back towards the bore-holes in
the walls, or out of the larger tunnels.
Orguss stepped up beside Jonn and cleaved a fleeing beast-men from
collarbone to crotch.
There was another beast-men within range, but the giant's
sword was momentarily stuck. Jonn
thought he caught a vicious smile from Orguss, before the big man swung his
gauntleted fist. His blow cracked the
beast-man's skull, but did not stop there, continuing until it struck Jonn in
the temple.
Wordlessly he collapsed to the floor, his vision growing dim. All was darkness, except for one great eye, blazing
red and angry. He slipped into oblivion,
but even there he could see it, burning in his mind.
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