by J. W. Webb
He heard a noise behind him and turned. The Assassin stood beneath the gateway; his spearmen and surviving chieftains were cursing and biting their nails. Rael Hakkenon said nothing, but his feline eyes blazed with emerald loathing. He stepped forward, signaling to his men to close in on Zallerak’s newfound friends.
“Not you again,” muttered Zallerak. “Can’t you mortals ever take the hint and die?”
Zallerak, though weak and weary, was undismayed. There was no time for rest at present, too much at stake.
Just enough in me for a quick spell.
Zallerak scrutinized the gateway above Rael’s head and mumbled some inaudible words. There came a resounding snap. The lintel split asunder and crashed, raining ruin and dust on the Assassin’s men.
A dozen were crushed to death, but Rael vaulted clear. Most were still inside the courtyard. The dozen surviving chiefs having raised the castle guard, there were over a hundred men trapped in there, unable to get through. These cursed and yelled behind the wreckage, toiling at the rubble like bee-stung beavers.
“That should keep your minions occupied for a while.” Zallerak mocked the Assassin with his sapphire gaze. Rael stood with Pollomoi, his face taut with loathing.
Rael was unable to speak. Froth dribbled from his mouth as he chewed at a knuckle. He was going to spend at least a month torturing tiny animals after this. First he would deal with this fucking warlock-musician cretin and his confederates. Rael awarded Pollomoi’s men a thin horrible smile and signaled them attack.
Chapter 30: Escape from Crenna
Zallerak turned to Corin, who was presently making lewd gestures at the Assassin, whilst beside him Barin was still scratching his bleeding ear. “We had better get moving, don’t you think?” Zallerak announced casually. “Come on, all of you. We’ve people and places to see! Onwards!”
Corin nodded. He glanced at the Queen and Barin, and then over at the enemy, who were reformed under Rael’s sharp orders and, with him at the center, were advancing in haste toward them, spears thrust forward. Rael had bid them fan out pincer fashion, block any escape.
Corin shifted his grip on Biter. They were surrounded, and despite Zallerak’s words, no one had moved. Corin was thirsty and tired. He stole a fatigued glance at Zallerak as he waited for the Crenise to close ranks on them.
Corin couldn’t fathom this bard-wizard and it irked him. Despite their perilous predicament, Zallerak was behaving as if they were on an afternoon romp in the sunshine. This weirdo might have saved them again, but Corin wasn’t about to trust him. He watched the Assassin’s men with a discerning eye. Their cordon was stretched too thin and they lacked precision. Corin winked at Roman. Both had spied the gap in their flank. It would suffice.
“Now!” Corin yelled, running headlong at the nearest spearman, Biter a steely blur at the end of his arm. “Swine array!”
The others followed, shouting. They formed a wedge at Corin’s bidding, himself, Barin, and Roman at the head. Like a chopper splitting rotten wood, they smashed through the Assassin’s line, and won free!
“Oh, well done!” said Zallerak as he neatly sidestepped a yelling guard and cuffed him with his gloved fist. “I can see latent talent beneath that obtuse skull of yours, young Corin. Come on, follow me!”
Shut up.
Corin and Roman held the enemy back with their blade skill while the others fled the plateau.
Zallerak and Barin led the way down through the streets. Behind them were Cale and the squire, Bleyne the Archer, and Queen Ariane and the crew. Ariane turned and yelled back. “You two, hurry up for fuck’s sake!”
Corin hurled a knife at the Assassin. Rael ducked and lunged forward, but Corin and his friend had already turned on their heels. In moments they caught up with the others, the Crenise close behind.
The chase was on through Kranek town.
Barin grinned, ushering the others forward and joining Corin and Roman at the rear.
“Where did you find that magician chap?” Barin asked them, matching his huge pace with theirs. He turned and poleaxed a spearman who’d got too close, sending him spinning into the cursing Assassin behind.
Rael lost ground. He kicked and punched his way forward, but his men were bunched too tight. Besides they were all bigger than him and he couldn’t see anything.
Get out the fucking way!
Another spearman closed on Corin, his weapon held high. Corin blocked the lunge and slid Biter into the guard’s exposed belly before turning on his heels again.
“He was waiting for us in the dungeon,” Roman panted to Barin. “Don’t ask. I haven’t a clue. But he’s somehow involved with Tarin.”
“Oh,” replied Barin. Beside him Corin gutted another guard. “Well done,” Barin told him.
“Thanks.”
They gained the main street and careered toward the lower town. Barin relieved Corin at the rear, his axe purchasing them a few moments respite. Barin had swatted a few more guards and stood looming at them, the Assassin still lost in their midst. Corin tugged his arm.
“You planning on lingering here all day?”
Now it was Roman at the van. Ariane’s champion swiftly put an end to several town folk that had just emerged to stop their flight, after hearing the Assassin’s manic yells.
“He calls himself Zallerak,” Corin was yelling up in Barin’s ear. He gasped a breath before dispatching a burly axe man with a backwards sweep of his sax.
“That’s a daft name,” Barin said. He clipped another guard with his axe, sending the spearman spinning into a clutter of bins. Barin grunted with satisfaction before turning to address Corin again.
“Where is Prince Tarin?” Barin asked as they ran. “I do not see him. Wasn’t he the reason for this little visit?”
“He pissed off a while ago. Zallerak let him loose.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
“Is it?”
The street narrowed. They were in the lower town. The Assassin’s men were gaining again. Barin grumbled. He was getting too old for all this stomping about. He turned, butted a tattooed guard, splitting the man’s skull and sending him sprawling into his fellows behind.
“Yes and no,” Corin was elaborating. “This Zallerak claims he freed the little twat from under the Assassin’s nose and took his place in a homemade cage. Says he’s sent him off on some quest away south, after picking up the Tekara shards he’d buried back near Fardoris.”
“Sounds a bit complicated.” Barin turned about, rammed his axe butt into the face of a spearmen.
“No doubt we’ll hear more later,” Barin added.
“No doubt,” replied Corin. “Come on,” he added. “Roman’s reached the harbor. We’d best not be left behind.”
“I’m sick of this running lark,” groaned Barin as they loped through the town, vaulting debris and stamping on the odd rat. “No stomach, these bloody Crenise,” he complained in Corin’s ear.
Two pirates had emerged to block their way. They saw the size of Barin (worse, the size of his axe) and promptly bolted back from whence they’d came. “You show them a bit of muscle and they scatter like squirrels!”
Corin stole a glance back at their pursuit. “Himself is back. We’d best pick up our steps.”
A few yards behind them the Assassin was screeching like an irate washerwoman. He’d forced his way through his men after stabbing their buttocks repeatedly with his rapier.
“Pollomoi!” Rael hollered, his voice hoarse from shrieking. “I’ll have you fucking racked for this!” Rael turned to vent his wrath on the waking inhabitants of Kranek Town. They were emerging sleepy-eyed from their various abodes, surprised and alarmed by the early morning racket.
“Wake up, you tossers,” Rael yelled at them. “Stop those impostors! Don’t let them escape! If the bastards get away, I’ll torch this town and flay the entire lot of you!
“Look, their escaping, Pollomoi!” Rael poked the lanky captain in his bony rib and bellowed in his ear. “I trust you l
eft guards in the harbor, heh? It will be your miserable head if you haven’t.”
“Our men are there, lord.” The captain twitched as they raced toward the harbor.
“They had bloody well better be.”
Corin and Barin caught up with the others at the town end of the quay. Ahead down the jetty lay The Starlight Wanderer, her sails set and ready for a swift departure. Cogga and Ruagon had stayed behind but had not been idle. They stood waving and yelling encouragement from the deck.
Corin cursed. The wooden jetty was blocked by over a score of Pollomoi’s guardsmen. They took them at a run, breaking through the soldiers’ ranks. Corin yelled at the others to run for it. Zallerak and Bleyne were first to sprint for the ship. Cale followed but tripped. Roman shielded the boy from harm whilst Corin heaved him back on his feet.
“Bugger off while you’ve still got legs!” Corin told the boy. Meanwhile Ariane and her squire gained the walkway and ran to catch the others.
Roman turned, fended the guards off after allowing everyone through. He braced himself at the end of the jetty. At his side were Corin and Barin, weapons bloody as they dispatched the guards pressing against them.
Then Rael Hakkenon bounded onto the quay with Captain Pollomoi and three score warriors behind. Hard pressed and facing backwards, the three fighters withdrew along the jetty keeping the enemy at bay, with broadsword, sax, and massive axe.
Biter took the legs, Roman stabbed and sliced with his big blade, whilst Barin’s axe wind-milled high over their heads tossing guards into the water amid trails of crimson and flying body parts.
Meanwhile, Bleyne, first on deck, sourced some arrows and began raining death on the Crenise from high at the trader’s stern rail.
Still they came.
Barin pitched two spearmen into the sea. Bleyne shot three more. Nearer the brig, Galed tripped and fell onto the wooden planks of the jetty. Fassof, cussing, hauled him to his feet with his good arm.
Ariane and Cale had clambered aboard. Most the crew followed. Cale leaned down to help Galed up the ramp and Fassof leapt onboard. The remaining crew jumped on deck, at once running to aid the hard-pressed Cogga and Ruagon.
Corin and Barin were half way down the ramp, Roman a yard or two behind them. Ariane, watching anxiously, shouted a warning.
Too late Roman saw the crossbowman. A shaft pierced his thigh. He dropped to one knee. A second thudded into his shoulder. Roman slumped. From the quay the crossbowman was rewinding his weapon. Bleyne’s next arrow took him out.
“Cale!” screamed Ariane. She was horrified. The boy had jumped back on the jetty and was rushing to aid Roman.
It was Corin who stopped him.
“Get back on deck ya little shite!” he yelled in Cale’s ear. “We’ll bring Roman.” But even as he spoke Roman waved him back.
Ariane’s champion was trapped, hemmed in by the Assassin’s men. Roman knew he’d reached the end game. He smiled back at the weeping boy and Barin and Corin beside him.
“Look after my Queen, Cale,” Roman winked at the boy. “You’re a warrior now, lad. Don’t fret about Corin; he’s alright when you get used to him.” Roman grinned raffishly at Corin and Barin.
“Farewell friends,” he called, and as he spoke a fresh gobbet of blood trickled from his mouth. “Take the boy and be on your way. I will hold these bastards here for a while yet!”
“Don’t be a fool!” shouted Corin. He thrust Cale into Barin’s arms and raced back to help his friend. Bleyne was firing arrow after arrow from the quay, but his shafts were running low.
Corin had almost reached Roman, but the big man waved him back. “Dying beside me won’t help, Corin an Fol. This wound is mortal.” Corin slowed to a stop.
“Roman, I—”
“Go, they need you!” Roman spat blood. Another bolt ripped into his left arm. Bleyne shot the culprit, but there were more missiles coming. The town folk had finally rallied, many carried bows and slings.
Corin’s heart sank. He realized there was no way out of this for Roman. His friend was right. Dying here would achieve nothing. Ariane would need him now more than ever before.
Agonized, Corin turned, ran back up the jetty, and leapt aboard behind Barin and the boy. Fassof cast off and Cogga took the wheel. Bolts thudded into the jetty and sank beneath the water behind them, but none reached the ship. Barin hauled up the anchor and The Starlight Wanderer slowly drifted from the dock.
Corin’s knuckles were white as he gripped the stern rail. More crossbowmen had appeared and bowmen were firing from the harbor wall ahead. An arrow thudded into the timber inches from Corin’s right hand. He hardly noticed it.
Beside him were Ariane, Galed, and the boy. All three were weeping, but Corin’s face was set in stone. They watched the scene play out on the jetty, tormented, unable to turn away.
They saw Roman struggle to his feet. He stood alone, a noble a stag beset by baying hounds. Corin felt Ariane’s small, cold hand seeking his. In silence he wrapped his calloused palm around her fingers, and she looked up into his eyes and sobbed. It was the first time he’d seen her cry.
They were jibing Roman now, the Crenise. Bleyne had shot over a dozen of them, but all his shafts were spent. Despondent, Bleyne took his place beside the others, his hard, brown, impassive face revealing little of the anguish he felt inside.
The gap widened from the jetty. They passed smaller ships anchored close by. Some bore crew that yelled at them and threw missiles, but the way ahead was clear, and Cogga skillfully worked the wheel. The archers fired from the wall but to no avail. Barin, after checking his vessel with Fassof, joined his friends at the stern. In silence they watched the scene reach its inevitable conclusion on the jetty.
***
Captain Pollomoi grinned, showing blackened teeth. He swung his sword hard to sweep Roman’s head from his body, but the Champion of Kelwyn spun round at the last moment.
Roman had read the move. Smiling through his pain, Roman rammed his blade into the thin captain’s belly. Pollomoi screamed in agony. Roman twisted the steel and pitched Pollomoi from the jetty into the reddened water below.
Roman stepped back, his face contorted in excruciation. He was exhausted. His arms and chest were covered in blood, most of it his, and his hands were slippery on the sword hilt. But he was ready to die and would take as many with him as he could. He gritted his teeth, refused to let the pain take hold.
Come on bastards, I’m not finished yet!
They came at him one at a time, probing with spears, jabbing with cutlasses. Others lobbed stones from the jetty and jeered.
Somehow Roman stayed on his feet, despite losing much blood. He fought stubbornly, heroically, ignoring the red agony pulsating through his veins. His broadsword cleaved the neck of a spearman. He twisted the blade free, ramming its pommel into the face of the man behind. Bones crunched. Roman grinned. Then he heard a lazy voice say,
“Get out the way. He is mine.”
The Assassin stepped from behind his men, a slim rapier gripped in either hand. Rael’s eyes were triumphant beads of jade. He smiled almost lovingly at Kelwyn’s famous Champion.
Roman readied his broadsword
“At last,” he spat the words, leaving a bloody trail from his mouth. “The lord of this shithole has come to meet his doom!” Roman stepped forward. “Die, bastard!” Roman lunged hard and straight for Rael Hakkenon’s throat.
The Assassin leaped back, smile broadening on his thin lips. Rael was in his element. He played to the baying crowd on the quay. He was poised like a dancer, a death-wielding magician. Rael switched the blades in his hands, left to right and right to left.
Roman watched nonplussed. He faked a yawn. Then with dazzling speed Rael lunged, piercing Roman’s broad chest through his ring mail with one sword, and then spinning on his heel, the Assassin sliced the other across the big warrior’s neck. Roman fell.
At least my Queen is free….
***
So died Roman Parrantio
s, valiant Champion of Kelwyn. They butchered his body before casting it into the ocean.
“Let the sharks feast,” laughed Rael Hakkenon. He waved at the figures watching in silence from Barin’s departing ship. The brigantine had nearly cleared the harbor, but Rael could see them well enough to note their ravaged expressions.
“Hoist the chain!” Rael yelled across the harbor to where a group of workers stood by a squat metal building. They vanished inside at his word and moments later a harsh grinding, scraping noise filled the morning.
Barin groaned when he saw the heavy chain clear the surface yards in front of The Starlight Wanderer’s bow. That thing would were tear his ship in two. He yelled to Cogga, who without hesitation joined him at the prow.
Each man grabbed an oar and slammed it down hard, checking the chain’s advance. Barin’s brute strength held the portside, but Cogga’s grip was slipping.
The chain scraped the hull, a terrible sound. Corin grabbed an oar and thrust its blade down beside Cogga. Bleyne and Ruagon joined him, whilst another crewman aided Barin.
Scrape, slide, and groan. The brigantine’s hull cleared the chain, breaking three oars in the process and nearly pitching Corin into the water. After it cleared the ship’s keel the chain shot up six feet above water, blocking Rael’s pursuing vessels, which had just launched from the harbor.
“Lower that fucking chain!” Rael yelled across the water. The idiots in the chain building didn’t hear him, so the chain stayed up whilst the nearest sharks were forced to heave to and wait. “Morons! Bloody useless, morons!”
By the time the chain operatives had got their act together The Starlight Wanderer had won free of the harbor, allowing Barin some time to get ahead.
After ceasing his rant at the chain hoisters, Rael glanced moodily across to where The Black Serpent sat sleek and handsome at the other end of the quay. He would be boarding her soon. Then the chase would begin. His joy after killing Parrantios was forgotten. Those bastards had torched his castle and pissed on his parade. This was personal.
