Krondor_ The Assassins Part 25

James weighed his options. He could chance a dagger throw, but the odds of it being a killing blow were slight. He could rush the man, but suspected there were others close by who would appear within moments of any outcry.

James had moved into the kitchen a few moments before the guard appeared and had ducked into the only cover at hand. He now remained motionless, hoping the a.s.sa.s.sin wouldn't notice the shape in the shadows on the stone wall.

The man looked away and James reacted without further thought. He stepped across one of the shelves and walked around a large butcher's block that stood between the shelves and the well.

The man glanced over as James moved casually toward him.

James smiled. "h.e.l.lo," he said, the only word he knew in the Kes.h.i.+an desert dialect.

The man blinked for a moment, then replied, "h.e.l.lo?" Then he asked a question in the language they had heard the a.s.sa.s.sins using.

James had a dagger palmed behind his wrist, and as the man repeated the question, James slashed him across the throat.

With a gurgling sound, the man gripped his throat and fell backward, into the well.

Voices coming from somewhere close by spurred James and he leapt on top of the well. He repeated his earlier feat of jumping up into the shaft and pulling his legs up, jamming his knees and shoulders into the walls of the ancient stone-lined tube. A slight gasp of pain escaped his lips as he discovered how bruised his shoulders and knees were from the last time he had pulled this stunt.

He s.h.i.+mmied up the well, feeling every inch of the ascent, until he was just below the lip. He knew he couldn't stay there long, and the sky above was lightening, so he started up the last few feet.

James listened for voices and heard none. He peered cautiously over the lip of the well and found six sentries nearby, four of them obviously sleeping and the other two involved in a quiet conversation, their attention on one another, not the well.

James judged them to be ten feet or closer and knew that if he tried to climb out one of the two was almost certain to see him. He decided on a dangerous course.

He turned his back to the two men, and started slowly to snake his way over the lip of the well. Should either glance in his direction, in the dim pre-dawn light, they might miss the distorted form on the edge of the well. If they paused to look in his direction, they would certainly see him. He prayed they were convinced no one was coming up this way after all these fruitless hours of guarding it.

James got his shoulders over the edge of the well and let his own weight carry him slowly down behind the bricks. If fate was kind, Edwin should have found either the other Pathfinder or Arutha's advanced scouts by now. If so, Arutha would be coming within the next day, two at the most. If not, James didn't want to consider the chances of getting out of the area alive.

He put his hands on the ground and gently let himself down. With as silent a movement as he could manage, he turned, sitting with his back to the well. He drew his sword and took a breath, ignoring the pain in his back and knees, then he leaped up.

It took a moment for his presence to register on the two men who were talking and they both stood slowly, as James took off at a run.

One of them shouted and the others came awake, slowly, asking questions in sleepy voices. James ran straight to where he judged the trapdoor to be, listening for a hollow sound.

This proved futile, since the yelling from behind drowned out any sound from below, but he did feel the ground give slightly at one point. He stopped, turned and jumped backward a few inches.

The soil below his feet felt as if it had given slightly. He ran backwards for a few feet, then crouched as if waiting for the men who raced toward him. They began to slow, and he realized with alarm they were on the verge of fanning out to surround him.

He turned and ran as if suddenly in a panic, and he heard orders shouted from behind.

Then a loud crack and a crash followed and James turned to see all six men falling through the trapdoor. He raced as fast as he could toward them. While holding the advantage for a moment, James and his companions were outnumbered two to one.

He reached the near end of the trapdoor and leapt, turning in mid-air so that he landed facing down the ramp.

The caked mud had prevented the left side of the door from falling fully into the ramp. The twisting ramp caused the men to fall, one atop the other. James found himself staring down into the darker interior of the ambush chamber, lit by only the one torch, as William and Treggar battled two guards.

Suddenly James felt his heels slip, and his feet went out from under him. He landed with a bone-jarring crash on the wooden ramp and slid a few feet, bowling over two a.s.sa.s.sins who were trying to rise.

James kept sliding, and saw that one of the enemy was trying to climb past him rather than fight. James slashed with his sword but missed as the man vaulted up the ramp past him.

James couldn't lavish any more attention on the fugitive, as another a.s.sa.s.sin sat up next to him, cutting at him with a backhanded blow from his scimitar. His only option was to throw himself backward on to the ramp, striking his head hard, as the blade cut through the air. Lying p.r.o.ne, James lunged with his sword, killing the man sitting next to him.

He sat up and found a black-dad back turned to him. Without hesitation, James struck it. His head pounded and he felt dizzy from the concussion he had just taken.

Treggar stood over one dead a.s.sa.s.sin, while dueling with another.

William struck one man while he kicked out and backed off a second.

James leapt on the closer of the two facing William and knocked him to the ground, wrestling him down, while William killed the one he faced.

James shouted, "One's getting away!"

William shouted back, "I'll get him!" He leapt over the dying man and raced up the ramp.

Reaching the top of the ramp, William saw the man more than a hundred yards ahead of him das.h.i.+ng down an incline leading to a gap in the rocks.

William started running.

James and Treggar killed the last a.s.sa.s.sin and appeared at the top of the steps in time to see William vanish down the eastern access. James said, "Go after him, and if he kills that man, then take him with you."

"Where?"

"To find Arutha," said James. "My original plan was to get back into the stable and hold the door while Arutha killed those trapped outside the door, then open the door and let him come inside to kill the rest."

"And we three were going to hold the door alone?"

"That's why I was trying to cut down the odds, captain."

"Now what?"

James said, "Get Arutha to send two dozen men through this room, down that hole and come into the fortress from the east. Have him use a ram to batter down the eastern doors. They'll be so intent on holding those doors they won't notice those you lead in through here."

"What are you going to do?"

James said, "Distract them. If they find this way to the surface, we lose a big advantage."

Treggar looked as if he was about to say something, then just nodded. He turned and ran after William.

James took a deep breath of fresh air as the late afternoon sun set behind the eastern peaks. Then he turned and climbed back down into the ancient fortress.

William had never been the fastest runner among the children on Stardock, or the fastest cadet at Krondor, but he had always had endurance. He knew he would have to. call upon that endurance to overtake the a.s.sa.s.sin, who was clearly faster. William suddenly realized the a.s.sa.s.sin had made a mistake and had chosen to run down the ancient wadi, to the pa.s.sage along the west that William and his companions had used to enter the fortress. Had he run the other way, he might have found allies outside the eastern gate, or pounded on it to get attention and quickly bring help. Now, William had a chance.

He saw the a.s.sa.s.sin ahead of him when the wadi widened out as it began a long gentle turn to the north. Running downhill, William could see the man had slowed slightly. Excitement or fear had lent speed to the man's first burst, but now he was slowing into a more conservative pace, a long loping stride.

William wasn't certain if the man even knew he was being chased, since he had not looked back at any time when he had been in his sight. William's heart pounded and his eyes stung. He blinked perspiration out of them. He breathed evenly, but his throat was dry and he could feel his body aching. Lack of sleep, water and food was taking its toll.

Putting everything out of his mind but his duty, he forced himself to pick up the pace, and slowly he could see he was gaining on the a.s.sa.s.sin. William had no sense of where he was, and no idea how much farther he would have to run before reaching the trail that pa.s.sed north of the wadi's entrance. He could imagine it being scant yards ahead of the a.s.sa.s.sin, or another mile. He didn't know which.

He saw he had halved the distance between himself and the man; he had closed to barely a hundred yards when the a.s.sa.s.sin looked over his shoulder. Either he had sensed William behind him or he had heard him, but regardless of the cause, he now knew he was being chased.

The man picked up the pace and William fought off a moment of resignation. Whatever James's plan was, it was clear the squire didn't want the a.s.sa.s.sins to know of a way into the fortress through the plateau.

William bore down, ignoring the burning in his legs and a heart that seemed ready to burst from his chest. This a.s.sa.s.sin must be tired as well, William thought. And then he thought of why he must not fail. The Prince needed to know of this place, how to get in, and the demon. He thought of his duty and those he was protecting: the royal family, the common people of the city, the servants in the palace; and then he thought of Talia. He remembered the demon that had appeared at the b.l.o.o.d.y rites, and he vowed he would die before allowing such a horror to be visited upon her.

Slowly he closed the gap with the a.s.sa.s.sin. The realization that he was gaining filled him with an elation that soon caused the fatigue to fade. It was clear the a.s.sa.s.sin was tiring and would soon have to face him.

The wadi broadened and now William could see the trail where they had bidden farewell to the two soldiers who had left with the goats and cart.

Reaching the trail, the a.s.sa.s.sin hesitated on which way to turn, and in that moment he had sealed his own fate. He had to turn to fight.

The man did so, pulling out a scimitar, and readied himself. He obviously expected William to slow and draw his own weapon, but rather than do as expected, William pulled his b.a.s.t.a.r.d-sword on the run and managed to let lose with a war-cry as he lifted the long blade over his head.

The a.s.sa.s.sin leapt aside, startled by the rush, but not losing his wits. He parried William's blow, spinning to face him as William slid to a stop in the dirt and also turned.

The two men crouched, facing one another. The a.s.sa.s.sin drew a dagger from his belt with his left hand and held it as if using it to parry, which William knew would be foolish against his long blade. He stayed wary, for the a.s.sa.s.sin would surely not hesitate to throw the blade if he saw an opportunity. He had no doubt the man could fight with either hand.

The a.s.sa.s.sin was shorter than William, presenting a compact target as he stood with knees bent, waiting to see what William would do next.

William circled to his left, looking for an opening. When rested, William was as fast with his long blade as many other men were with a broadsword, but he was far from rested. He knew he had only two or three blows left before he would be at the other man's mercy.

William leapt forward, turning his blade as he moved, so that he could level a backhand slash at the man's right-hand side. He hoped to force the a.s.sa.s.sin to parry with the scimitar. William prayed the scimitar would snap when he struck it.

Apparently sensing the risk to his blade, the a.s.sa.s.sin jumped back, rather than parrying, and William seized the moment to press forward. He jerked his blade up short rather than let it carry around, leaving the point just to the right of the a.s.sa.s.sin's dagger hand.

The a.s.sa.s.sin let fly with the dagger, the blade aimed straight for William's throat, or where it would have been had he followed through with his blow.

Instead of striking him in the throat, the blade glanced off William's shoulder at its juncture with the neck, slicing the muscle just above the chain mail he wore over his tunic. "d.a.m.n!" William said as his eyes teared from the pain.

He didn't have time to consider the ill-luck of it not having struck one inch to the right, where it would probably have bounced off his chain, for the a.s.sa.s.sin followed his throw with a headlong rush.

William barely managed to get his sword up to block the man's scimitar. His breath burst from his lungs as the a.s.sa.s.sin drove his shoulder into William's chest, taking them both to the ground in a heap.

William ignored the fiery pain in his shoulder, rolled away from the a.s.sa.s.sin, and tried to come to his feet. Pain exploded in his face as the a.s.sa.s.sin kicked him, causing him to fall backward, his vision swimming as the sky turned yellow and red.

Fighting to remain conscious, William was abruptly aware of having lost his grip on his sword. As he tried to sit up, another blow struck him, and his head rang from the pain. Half-conscious, he was barely aware of the weight which landed on his chest.

Blinking hard, trying to force his senses to obey him, William looked up to see death upon him. The a.s.sa.s.sin was standing over him, one boot firm on William's chest, his scimitar poised to deliver the killing blow.

In the split second between the recognition of his plight and the thought that he must somehow act-grab the a.s.sa.s.sin's boot and knock him off balance-and the knowledge that he would be too slow to do it, William saw the a.s.sa.s.sin freeze for an instant, then fall away.

A figure in chain mail not unlike his own stood above William. It took a few moments for him to recognize Captain Treggar.

The captain put his sword away and knelt over William. "Can you hear me?"

William blinked and then managed to croak, "Yes."

"Can you stand?"

"I don't know," whispered William. "Help me to my feet and we'll find out."

Treggar got a hand under William's arm and helped him to stand. "Let me see that," said the captain, looking at William's wound. After a moment, he said, "You'll live."

William's head still rang and his legs were rubbery, but he said, "That's good news."

"But that cut's going to burn like h.e.l.l for a while until we can dress it."

The captain tore off a piece of his tunic and jammed it hard against the wound. William's knees threatened to buckle and Treggar held him up. "We don't have time for you to faint, lieutenant."

"No, sir," said William weakly.

"We're going to find the Prince, and if I have to leave you behind, I will."

"Understood, sir," said William, forcing himself to take deep breaths. "I'll do my best."

"I know, Will," said Treggar. "Come on, and let's hope we find the Prince before those a.s.sa.s.sins find us."

William looked around. "Where's James?"

"He went back inside. Said he was going to make them spend time looking for him rather than us."

William said nothing, but inside he was wondering if he possessed that sort of courage. James would be lucky to survive the time it would take to find the Prince and return with him.

They set off toward the east, moving slowly at first, then picking up the pace as William regained his senses.

James glanced around. He had taken a few minutes to move the rocks that had fallen when he and William had moved the flagstone above the crack in the ceiling. There was little he could do about the dust but he still tried to move some of it around with his feet.

Unsatisfied, but resigned to that being his best effort, he hurried toward the route he judged most likely to get him to where he wanted to be without being set upon by an army of angry men in black with large a.r.s.enals of weapons at their disposal.

"Ruthia," he said quietly, invoking the name of the G.o.ddess of Luck. "I know I've abused our relations.h.i.+p at times, and I'm far overdue in visiting your shrine, but if you could see your way clear to granting me just a little more of your favor, this time, I swear I will be far more rigorous in my devotions."

He turned the corner and stepped into a large room, and an instant too late realized that there were men who had been standing motionless upon each side of the door. He spun to be confronted by two swords pointing at him, just as another half-dozen a.s.sa.s.sins suddenly burst into the room from three other doors.

Glancing around, he saw it was hopeless to fight, so he held up his hands and let his sword drop from limp fingers. Under his breath, he muttered, "Ruthia, you didn't have to be so emphatic in saying no!"

One of the a.s.sa.s.sins stepped forward and struck James across the face with the back of his hand. James fell hard to the flagstones and the man kicked him brutally in the ribs.

Vomiting the scant contents of his stomach, James coughed and said, "Ruthia, you can be such a b.i.t.c.h." Then the man kicked him in the head and James lost consciousness.