Would that be so bad? Maybe if he bided his time well enough, Lakhoni would find a moment he could take advantage of and escape with Alronna.
No, they would plan for that. The moment Lakhoni stepped out and tried to make a deal with the man, he would be in Shelu’s power. He had to get Alronna away now. And maybe then he and his sister would go to the mountains to the northwest and find the Sword themselves.
“I would look upon the Guide,” the Bonaha said. “Shelu, lead the way.”
Lakhoni crept backward into the long, low room. He melted into the shadows. Maybe the opportunity would come now. The group came into view and turned right, headed for the far staircase. Lakhoni waited until they had disappeared through the doorway and followed them. As he jogged, the sound of several feet slapping stone stairs echoed up to him from the stairs to his left—the ones he had taken. Soldiers?
He broke into a run. He reached the steps that the Bonaha’s group had gone down, but stopped immediately. More footsteps!
He spun and hurtled back through the dimly lit room, thankful that the only light came from the outside. Scanning quickly, he saw no more doors in the room. He couldn’t go out on the balcony. There was no certainty that he would find a way back in and down to Alronna. Could he bluff his way past, since he still appeared to be a servant of the king? Not without a great delay, surely. They would wonder what he was doing up here. The guards at the water room might have also reported what had happened, so the soldiers might be on the lookout for a servant who was out of place.
He had to hide.
Lakhoni sought out the darkest shadow. He thanked the Fathers that the sun had already disappeared behind the mountains.
The chill in the stone at his back felt familiar this time. Moving quickly, he unrolled his pouch and extracted his knife, holding it at his side. At that moment, the noise of the approaching men reached crescendo and soldiers’ heads appeared, emerging from the stairway like spirits from a stone grave.
He counted ten in the first group, each with a bow and two quivers full of arrows, and didn’t dare move to count the other group from the stairs to his right. If they saw him, he would use his knife and try to take them by surprise enough to break through and make for his sister.
The stone at his back had warmed now and Lakhoni imagined he was melting into it—embraced and hidden by the massive block. Marching archers passed, their bows strung, not saying a word. In the span of a minute, they had all passed to the outside. He guessed twenty in all.
The moment that the last archer disappeared into the cold gray light of dusk, Lakhoni ran for the stairway. Running on his toes, he made no sound. Twenty more feet and he’d be out of sight. Three more strides!
“You!”
Lakhoni glanced over his shoulder. More archers had emerged from the opposite staircase.
“Stop!”
Lakhoni kept going.
A heavy twang. His scalp crawled with instant understanding.
He twisted left and dropped.
The arrow grazed his right shoulder, its jagged head taking a chunk of flesh with it, then it skittered against the stone wall in front of him. He got his feet under him and dove for the stairs, bracing himself for the impact.
He felt the next arrow flash above his back. This one shattered on the wall.
Then he was rolling down the stone stairs. He relaxed his muscles and sought control, keeping his knife away from his body.
Too fast. A stair’s edge slammed into his left thigh; pain blossomed along his leg. His hand and arm holding the knife hit a step, caught and twisted in sudden, sharp pain. The knife clattered away. Another stair’s edge was just rough enough to scrape his back as he slid and tumbled.
Then he hit the floor of the next level. He gritted his teeth against the pain and scanned the floor. Orange torchlight flickered on metal. He snatched up his knife and took the next set of stairs in three controlled leaps.
Where would the Guide be? He flew down the stairs, every impact of his left foot sending a jarring pain into his thigh.
Chaos. He had to sow chaos. That was the only way he could get to Alronna now.
“They’re in the temple! Rebels!” He shouted as he reached each landing. “They’re here!”
On the third level, he caught a glimpse of Ree. She had made it back to the city! Relief flooded him. She was running down a corridor, in the other direction.
“Ree!” He tried to aim his voice just right so nobody else would hear.
She stopped and spun, clearly surprised at hearing her name.
“Lakhoni? What are you doing here?” Her body heaved with exertion. “Have you seen my father? Why are you bleeding?”
Lakhoni ran to her. He slapped a hand onto his oozing shoulder and squeezed, trying to stop the blood flow. She doesn’t know. Something in his expression must have given her a clue.
“What? Did you see—?” Ree’s cheeks quivered.
“I’m sorry. He was killed.”
Her face lost all shape, she fell against a wall and burst into tears.
Lakhoni wanted to reach for her, comfort her. “Ree, I’m so sorry.”
“Who is that army? Why would they kill him?” Her wails echoed off the walls and ceiling.
“He was betrayed.” He wanted to share what he’d learned; holding it all inside made it unreal, almost a fantasy.
Two servants ran by as he helped her to stand. She’s my cousin. He searched her face, seeking a familiar detail or shape. Nothing. She just looked like a heartbroken young woman. “A man named Molgar—”
“Uncle Molgar?” Ree swallowed her sobs and scrubbed her face. “He’s a terrible man. I never knew why my father made me call him ‘uncle.’ I hated the way he looked at me.”
Uncle Molgar? Lakhoni wished he knew everything that had gone on, how the Bonaha had accomplished this chaos. “He had your father killed. He wants to rule the land. The Usurpers’ land too.”
Her eyes widened.
“He brought an army back with him.”
“How do you know all of this?” Ree stared at Lakhoni. “Who are you?”
He had to go, had to find where the Bonaha’s group had gone. “They killed my family. I’m here to find my sister.”
A moment passed as shouts and other noise could be heard from elsewhere in the temple. In the next moment, Lakhoni wanted to kick himself. “You have to go. They’re going to want to kill you too.”
Ree grabbed Lakhoni’s arm. “Will you come with me?”
“I have to find Alronna, my sister.”
“Why do you think she’s in here?”
No time. “They think she knows something about the Sword. They want it—”
“The Guide! It was the Guide!”
Lakhoni jerked at Ree’s shout. “What was? Where is it?”
“Now I get it. The Guide, it’s in the throne room, in a box. I was there when Shelu brought it back!” Ree pulled Lakhoni in the direction she had been running. “I’ll take you, then we can all go.”
Lakhoni dug in his heels, pulling her to a stop. “Ree, you can’t come with me. I—I have to try to get Alronna, but I can’t beat them.” He caught her gaze. “You have to get out of here. They will kill you as soon as they see you.”
Ree stood still for a moment. She squeezed his arm. “But I don’t want you to die.”
“I don’t either. But you can leave. I can’t.”
She looked toward the floor. “I don’t want you to die.”
He cupped her chin, lifting her face so he could look at her eyes. “I’m not trying to die. I want to live, but I came a long way to find Alronna. I can’t give up now. Where’s the throne room?”
Ree nodded. “Down this hall. One level down, turn right at the bottom and it’s the only door on the left.”
A moment of stillness filled the space between them. Of all the things to find in the king’s compound. His cousin. She had to leave, had to find somewhere safe.
“Please get out of here. Ta
ke your horse and food and go north.” He thought fast. “There’s a village far to the northwest, through a forest. A girl named Simra, her father’s Neas. If you can find them, tell them I sent you.”
“I’ll try. But you come with me. Please.” Ree’s eyes watered. Fear, grief, and anger battled on her face. It looked like anger was winning.
“I can’t. My sister’s here.” Lakhoni swallowed. “I have to end this.”
He stepped away from Ree, pushing her back down the hallway.
The time had come.
Chapter 47
Hunter
Lakhoni gave Ree a final glance and exploded into motion. He leapt up the stairs. A servant barreled into him on the way down. Lakhoni had force and speed on his side, and the pudgy man fell backward, legs and arms flying. Lakhoni pushed his concern for the man away.
He followed Ree’s directions as people streamed out of rooms, mostly panicked servants, all of them looking around wildly. He forced his way through the people, reached the wall, and dragged himself along it, on the side of the crowds, until he made it to the throne room. Finally at the door, Lakhoni pulled his dagger out and dropped his bag to the floor. He needed to be totally free in his movements. He tested the dagger’s edge. Not as dull as he’d thought it would be after the abuse in the canal. It would still cut skin.
He pressed his ear to the door, but the noise of shouts and passing servants drowned out anything being said. He sought a crack or gap, finding the slightest space under one of the door’s metal hinges. He peered through the gap, searching as much of the throne room as he could. Tall, shining metal supports holding cold, thick, dark candles were spaced every few paces. When lit, the candles must have removed all shadow from the room. Movement caught his eye. Shelu and Gimno appeared from behind the throne, carrying a large, ornate box. Casting around, Lakhoni saw that a halkeen clutched Alronna, and the Bonaha stood right next to them.
The Bonaha. Ree’s Uncle Molgar. Who was this man? A Usurper?
He could worry about that later. If later ever came. For now, none of the people in the room were looking at the door. He tested the door; it swung quietly. Lakhoni took a deep, centering breath. Stone under his feet, blood flowing to each muscle in his body. Total control. He would have one shot at this. He had to be fast. A slash, then grab Alronna, then run.
He darted through the door, making for the halkeen holding Alronna. A shout from next to the door told Lakhoni his plan had failed. The other two halkeen, he’d forgotten about them. They had been guarding the door. He gritted his teeth and continued, reaching Alronna’s captor just as the man turned. Lakhoni dropped into a slide, dagger slashing the back of the man’s knee. As the man cried out and stumbled, Lakhoni leapt up and slammed his elbow into the halkeen’s temple. The red warrior fell bonelessly to the stone floor.
“Khoni!” Alronna gasped, her face slack with fear.
Lakhoni seized Alronna’s arm, pulling her back toward the door he’d come through. A glance told him the two halkeen would get to him before he could make it. From the corner of his eye, he saw Shelu and Gimno explode into motion. The box slammed to the floor, Shelu flying to the Bonaha and Gimno sprinting right at Lakhoni.
“Hold!” The Bonaha’s high voice cut through the room.
Gimno settled into a relaxed stance, eyes alight and eager, a broad smile stretching the tattoos on his face.
Lakhoni pulled Alronna closer, desperately seeking another way out. To his left a large portal opened that led to a balcony. The king must have stood there to address his people. Could they make it? He yanked Alronna that way.
“Stop them, but don’t kill either of them.” The Bonaha’s voice, soft now, made Lakhoni’s stomach churn. This was the man, this was the person who had done it all. His mother, father, the rest of the village. His beloved Ancum. And now the king of the land.
Alronna tugged Lakhoni toward the balcony entrance, even as Lakhoni saw that they wouldn’t make it. Both of the halkeen who had been guarding the door now stood between him and the wide portal to the outside.
“Boy, you are worthy of respect,” the Bonaha said.
Lakhoni faced the small man, anger at every breath the Bonaha took boiling his blood. “And you’re worthy of death and torture.”
“This cub has bite,” the Bonaha said, turning to Gimno. “And perhaps you trained him too well.”
Gimno smiled. “Respectfully, my Bonaha, this is no cub.”
Pride swelled in Lakhoni’s chest. He fought it down, disgusted at himself. Gimno was a murderer, a follower of a traitor and murderer.
“You had me fooled, Lakhoni.” Gimno shared his grin with Shelu. “You convinced me you had accepted life as a Living Dead. Got me to red.”
“Then you’re a fool.” Shelu moved toward Lakhoni, moving his sword in complicated patterns. “You should have just taken him as a slave.”
“You forget, Shelu.” The Bonaha stepped closer to Lakhoni and Alronna. “We didn’t know he was involved.”
“No way of knowing,” Gimno said.
Lakhoni continued to step backward as the three men closed in.
“Khoni,” Alronna whispered. “What do we do?”
Before Lakhoni could answer, Shelu spoke. “We have to go and tighten our hold on this city. He angled his sword toward Lakhoni. “We are short on time.”
“No. We retrieve the Sword.” The Bonaha turned to Gimno. “Take him. He comes with us.”
Faster than Lakhoni could react, Alronna was torn out of his grasp. The other two halkeen! How had he forgotten them again? He spun and slashed at the other halkeen, scrambling away from the entire group, eyes darting everywhere. He met Alronna’s pleading gaze. I’m sorry.
“Keep them alive.” The Bonaha followed Shelu, who now carried the box holding the Guide, toward the door of the throne room. He stopped. “The other has not spoken yet. Perhaps you can make one of them tell you where the Sword is. I leave it to you.” He left the room.
The halkeen not holding Alronna flashed toward Lakhoni, drawing a curved metal sword. He slashed diagonally with the sword impossibly fast, right at Lakhoni’s head. Lakhoni flung himself backward and spun to the left, angling to get inside the man’s reach. The ribs on his right side exploded in sharp agony. Pain rang all the way to his head.
“Little sister,” Gimno said, his voice easily carrying to Lakhoni’s ears over his desperate struggle. “Tell me where the blessed Sword is and I will call off my friend.”
The red warrior was so fast! Lakhoni slashed upward with his knife, aiming for the man’s groin area. “Tell them nothing, Ronna!”
But the blow from the warrior hadn’t stopped at Lakhoni’s ribs. The halkeen continued his movement and caught Lakhoni around the back with an arm that felt like a tree branch. The man’s sword flashed upward at the same moment that he yanked Lakhoni tightly against his muscled torso.
Lakhoni tried to slash the man again and pushed backward hard, right into the man’s chest.
Losing his balance somewhat, the man’s sword blow missed mostly, although fire erupted along Lakhoni’s arm. More importantly, the warrior’s grip loosened.
Lakhoni brought his knee up, aiming for the groin again. The warrior dodged slightly, falling for Lakhoni’s feint. Lakhoni scored a long slash across the man’s left arm, even as the warrior floated sideways and just missed with a kick. Lakhoni stepped back, hoping to reorient himself. So fast!
The halkeen stepped back too, his scalp glistening with sweat. “Gimno is a good instructor.”
“Say nothing!” Lakhoni shouted again. His blood, cooling already, dripped from his shoulder. It hurt to breathe very deeply. How could such a big man move so quickly?
To his side stood a halkeen, who held Alronna. Alronna clawed and kicked at the tall man.
“Didn’t know who you were at the cave.” The halkeen he was fighting gave a tight smile.
The man’s conversational tone put Lakhoni on edge. Some instinct, perhaps a feeling of movement or sou
nd, warned Lakhoni and he ducked and spun to the left. Gimno’s dagger slashed across the space where his neck had just been. Lakhoni took a few more steps back. He needed to be able to see both halkeen and Gimno. The halkeen whose leg he’d slashed was out of the fight, busy bandaging himself.
He knew with sudden clarity that he could not allow them to capture him. Images of what these men might do to Alronna to convince Lakhoni to reveal the location of the sword splashed across the backs of his eyes. Or what they might do to him.
He had to stay away from them.
He stepped back. “What’s going on? Why did you kill the king?” He knew the answer, but hoped to stall them long enough to—to what?
Alronna’s face was tight with terror—like pale blue stone in the failing light.
“He was a tool,” Gimno said. “As are we all. Where is the Sword?” Gimno gave the halkeen that Lakhoni had been fighting a look. “Inform the Bonaha that we are almost finished here.” The red warrior nodded and departed, leaving the last halkeen holding Alronna, who struggled against him.
His senses wide open, Lakhoni felt Gimno move and he flowed into a spinning crouch, the sound of air being sliced crackling above him. Lakhoni flipped his dagger so that the blade extended downward from his hand and slashed upward.
Gimno’s laughter filled the stone room. “The cub certainly has grown up!”
Lakhoni flung himself into a roll, tucking his head, then springing up into another spin. Each movement flashed before his eyes the moment before he did it. He raised his hand holding the dagger to chest height.
Gimno floated closer, his teeth flashing brightly. “You are stronger. Taller. But you can’t best me, boy.”
Lakhoni met his teacher’s eyes. He reached into himself, seeking the ember of rage that he knew smoldered there. He breathed deeply, taking air in to bring life to the glowing coal. He sensed every inch of his skin, every muscle, every bone.
“I would dearly love to test your skills.” Gimno moved his knife in a series of slashes. “But I can’t have you dead.” He flashed a look toward Alronna. “You don’t want him to die, do you?”
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