Pyrgus hurled himself forward. But he twisted his body so there was no chance that the knife might touch the guard. For just the barest moment the man held his position, then his nerve broke and he jumped to one side, the stun wand flailing wildly. Pyrgus was through the exit door before he recovered his balance.
He slammed the door behind him and raced up the corridor.
He knew he wasn't going to get away. The guards were already boiling into the corridor behind him, alarm sirens were sounding all over the place and any idiot could figure out the first thing they'd do was close the exits. So in a minute he'd be caught and the cat and her kittens would be taken back into the foul production plant. Pyrgus didn't care much what happened to him -- he'd wriggled out of worse predicaments -- but he couldn't let the kittens be killed. He raced round a bend in the corridor and lost sight of his pursuers for a moment. A sign hanging from the ceiling said TOILETS with an arrow pointing right.
He made the right-angle turn without hesitation. A quick glance told him the toilets were empty (and none too clean). He hesitated. It was possible the guards might run past without realising where he was, but he was not about to bet on it. He spun round to see if he could bolt the doors, but they were spring-loaded affairs without locks. Outside, he could hear the guards approaching in the corridor. There were loop handles on the doors and he looked around for a broom or something he could jam between them. There was no broom, nothing. The sounds were closer now. Would they run past?
'Check the toilets!' he heard someone call.
It was all over. Unless he could find something to jam the doors. A thought occurred to him, but he dismissed it. Then he looked at the kittens in the cage and thought it again.
Pyrgus set down the cage and pulled out his Halek knife. Six months' saving and even then he'd had to win it on a bet. He'd never own another one. Incredibly, he heard the kittens' mother purr. 'Oh, shut up!' Pyrgus muttered. All the same, he couldn't let her die. He shoved the Halek knife between the two looped handles.
It would shatter at the first onslaught, of course. But when it shattered, it would send a charge through the door. The wood would absorb most of it, but enough would get through to stun anybody within the first few feet. And that would give the rest very good reason to pause. It wouldn't stop them, but it would buy him time. He swooped down to grab the cage as the first wave of guards struck the doors. Pyrgus didn't even bother to look back, but he heard a howl as the Halek blade shattered, then screams and a scuffle outside. He hurled himself towards the little window at the far end of the toilets.
He had to stand on a washbasin to get near it. For a moment he didn't think he was going to get it open, but desperation gave him strength. The window looked out over a steep roof and was just big enough for him to climb through. He pushed the cage ahead and flicked the catch. The cage swung open, but the cat and her kittens only looked at him.
'Go on!' hissed Pyrgus. 'Get out of there! Get out of there now,' For heaven's sake you're cats, aren't you? Cats are supposed to be at home on rooftops.'
There were crashing sounds behind him as the guards found their courage and piled in. The queen cat stood up, glanced at Pyrgus briefly, then stepped out on to the roof. Her kittens followed her sure-footedly. Pyrgus flung the empty cage away and started to wriggle through the window. Rough hands grabbed his ankles.
'Oh no you don't!' an angry voice growled.
Kicking and struggling, Pyrgus was dragged back down from the window. The last thing he saw was the cage arcing out over the edge of the roof to drop down towards the ground below.
Pyrgus relaxed. At least the kittens were safe now and the guards would hardly kill him for rescuing a cat. 'All right, all right!' he said. 'I'll come quietly.'
'Let's kill him,' muttered one of the guards. There were more than a dozen of them milling round. Two had Pyrgus by the arms. A burly man with a sergeant's insignia on his uniform stepped forward. 'Yus, let's kill him!' he muttered as he punched Pyrgus in the stomach. Pyrgus doubled up and fought to catch his breath.
'Great idea,' said one of the men holding him. 'We could beat him to death and say he was resisting arrest.' He grabbed a handful of Pyrgus's hair and jerked him upright. The burly sergeant hit him again.
Pyrgus groaned and the whole hideous scene faded briefly to black. He shook his head fiercely, more aware of a drumming noise than anything else. Then consciousness returned and he realised three guards were now raining punches on his chest and stomach. With his arms still pinned, there was nothing he could do to defend himself. He tried to kick his attackers, but his legs wouldn't work -- he felt they were moving through treacle. His body slumped and the thought occurred that he might really be beaten to death. The guards had the goblin look of Faeries of the Night, like most of Chalkhill and Brimstone's people. You could never tell how far they'd go.
Pain was flaring through his body and a blood-mist crawled across his eyes before a dark-eyed man in a green captain's uniform pushed his way through. 'What's going on here?' he demanded angrily. 'What do you think you're doing to that child?'
The guards punching Pyrgus stepped back quickly and the two holding him snapped to attention, dragging him upright as they did so. 'Nothing, sir. Sorry, sir.'
'Who is he -- one of our workers?'
'Trespasser and thief, sir -- that's not his coat,' one guard said smartly. 'Broke into our factory and stole our cat.'
'And five glue kittens,' the second guard put in.
The captain frowned. 'And you were beating him for that?'
'No, sir. Not necessarily, sir. He threw them through the window. Poor little things are probably dead by now.'
Poor little things? Even through the haze of pain, it was almost funny. Pyrgus tried to speak, but all that came out was a groan.
'Shut it, you!' the guard hissed in his ear.
'Let go of him!' the captain ordered coldly.
'Sir?'
'You heard me. Let go of him at once!'
The guards released their grip on Pyrgus's arms and he felt himself slide gratefully down into velvet darkness.
He came to with the captain bending over him, a look of deep concern on his face. 'Are you all right? For a minute there I thought they'd killed you.'
Pyrgus moved cautiously. The whole of his body ached and burned, but nothing seemed to be broken. He expected he'd be a mass of bruises by the morning. 'I'm OK,' he croaked, his voice little more than a whisper.
'Take your time,' the captain said. 'Those idiots beat you badly.'
Pyrgus struggled to sit up. Tm OK,' he said again and his voice was stronger now. He seemed to be in some sort of poky office, probably the captain's. The furnishings consisted of a desk, a filing cabinet and a couple of chairs. The woodwork was encrusted with grime, like everywhere else in the factory.
The captain stepped back to give him room and Pyrgus climbed shakily to his feet. But he knew he wasn't going to stay there. He grabbed one of the chairs and sat down. A wave of nausea swept through him and he ignored the pain in his body to push his head between his legs. When he sat up again, the captain said gently, 'OK? Better now?'
Pyrgus nodded.
'I'm Captain Pratellus,' the captain told him. 'And the first thing I want to do is apologise for those imbeciles. What they did to you was inexcusable.'
Pyrgus stared at him wearily and said nothing. Captain Pratellus was nearly a head smaller than the guards who'd beaten him and would have been almost handsome if he hadn't had such really rotten skin.
The look of distress on Pratellus's face increased. 'The thing is, you did trespass, so I have to ask you some questions. You understand that, don't you?'
Pyrgus nodded.
'Are you OK for that now, or would you like me to wait a little while?'
Pyrgus swallowed. 'No, it's OK.' The sooner this was done with, the sooner he could get out of this lunatic asylum. And see how quickly you can close it down, a voice hissed fiercely in his mind. Now he knew what they did to
cats, there was no way he was going to let the factory stand. He'd take his story to the Emperor himself if need be. Chalkhill and Brimstone might have one or two decent employees like the captain, but that still didn't justify what they were doing. He was astonished they'd been able to keep their treatment of the kittens secret, even if the factory had only been open for a short time. You'd have thought something like that was bound to leak out.
'Well, I suppose I'd better start with your name?'
'Pyrgus,' Pyrgus told him. Pyrgus Malvae.'
'A royal name!' Pratellus exclaimed. Pyrgus smiled weakly. 'Well, Pyrgus, I'll try not to detain you a minute longer than absolutely necessary. Would you like to tell me what you were doing in the factory?'
Pyrgus stared at him for a moment, then decided on the truth. 'Somebody was chasing me, so I climbed over the gate.'
The look of concern was back on Pratellus's face. 'Who was chasing you?'
'I'm not sure,' Pyrgus said. 'I think it might have been Black Hairstreak's men.'
Pratellus sucked breath through his teeth. 'That degenerate! Yes, well, I could see you'd be advised to keep out of his clutches. So you climbed over the gate?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Crambus, Pyrgus -- call me Crambus. I've a feeling we might be friends when all this is over.' Pyrgus nodded. Crambus Pratellus said, 'You know that was a dangerous thing to do?'
Pyrgus nodded again. 'I do now.'
'I argued with Mr Brimstone about the extreme security precautions.' Pratellus threw his eyes briefly upwards. 'But would he listen? Some day somebody's going to get killed and then where will we be? But you didn't get killed?'
'No, sir -- no, I didn't, Crambus.'
'And, of course, it might have been far more dangerous to let yourself get caught by Black Hairstreak.'
Pyrgus nodded. That was probably true. Especially when you'd stolen his phoenix. He decided he wouldn't mention the phoenix to Captain Pratellus.
'So you weren't breaking into the factory for anything? It just happened to be your ... escape route.'
'Yes.'
'What about the kittens? The guards said you stole kittens.'
Pyrgus hesitated, then said, 'I didn't steal them -- I rescued them.'
Pratellus sighed. 'You're an animal lover. So am I. I hate what they do to cats here.'
'Then why don't you stop it?' Pyrgus asked with sudden passion.
Pratellus spread his hands helplessly. 'It's not illegal,' he said. 'Believe me, I've looked into it and there's absolutely nothing I can do.'
'You could tell people!' Pyrgus said. 'Once people knew what was going on, they'd put a stop to it!'
Captain Pratellus smiled sadly. 'I'm afraid people just don't care. I know this is difficult to accept at your age, but it's true. Let's not quarrel -- there may be something we can do about the kittens later. I have to make a report, you see. Just for now, would you like me to say you're a little soft-hearted about cats -- lots of young people are -- and that was all there was to it really? Boys will be boys sort of thing?'
It was probably the best way. Pyrgus nodded gratefully.
Suddenly Captain Pratellus was no longer smiling. 'You must imagine I'm a total cretin!' he hissed furiously.
Jasper Chalkhill's office smelled of perfume. Lush carpet covered the floor and heavy velvet curtains hung from every wall. There were two rare white tiger skins in front of the enormous desk and several works of oriental statuary on display in elaborate crystal cases. But the most exotic thing in the place was Chalkhill himself. He wore a feathered hat and peacock robe with cloth-of-gold slippers. Folds of fat hung from his face and arms.
'Why, Pratellus, dear Pratellus, what have you brought for me?' He tripped across the room with remarkable grace for so bulky a man and examined Pyrgus minutely. 'A boy! How thoughtful, Pratellus, how thoughtful.' Close up, Pyrgus could see he was wearing rouge.
'Caught breaking in, Mr Chalkhill,' Pratellus said ingratiatingly. 'Stole one of our cats and all her kittens. I suspect he was after -- ' he dropped his voice and glanced behind him before completing the sentence ' -- the formula.'
Chalkhill looked positively delighted. 'A thief! A dear little thief! Well, he must be punished, mustn't he? What shall we do, Pratellus? Shall we beat him? Shall we teach him a stern lesson? Oh, what fun we might have!' He leaned forward in a perfumed cloud and, for the first time in his life, Pyrgus realised here was a man he would cheerfully use a Halek knife on.
Pyrgus briefly wondered if he should spit in Chalkhill's eye, but satisfied himself with hissing fiercely, 'Keep away from me, you smelly tub of lard!'
'Ooooh,' said Chalkhill, smiling at Pratellus. 'What spirit! What ferocity!'
'He's bad-tempered all right, Mr Chalkhill. He was beating up my guards when I found him. Heaven knows what damage he might have done if I hadn't come along.'
Pyrgus gave the captain a filthy look, but said nothing. He was coming to realise the whole of Chalkhill and Brimstone was full of liars.
'Then you are to be commended, Captain Pratellus,' Chalkhill said. He smiled at Pyrgus and rainbow sparkles danced across his teeth. 'Well, now, my little terrier, what are we going to do with you?'
'You're going to let me go at once!' Pyrgus told him. 'Otherwise my father -- '
'Ah, a father's boy, is it? I was always much more fond of my mother, but no accounting for taste. I'm afraid I'm not terribly impressed by your father, boy. Big, is he? Bulging muscles? Wooo, I'm so afraid.' He turned to Pratellus. 'Now, captain, I assume you questioned him?'
'Yes, sir, Mr Chalkhill. Sly one, sir -- gave nothing away. That's why I brought him to you. I thought you might like to torture him.'
'Oh, yes,' Chalkhill said enthusiastically. 'I'd like to torture him, all right. But before we go to ... extremes, perhaps I shall ask him some questions myself. I find quite a few people are prepared to chat with me when they refuse to talk to anybody else.' He turned back to Pyrgus. 'What makes a dear boy like yourself break into a respectable business premises?'
'Respectable?' gasped Pyrgus, sudden anger overcoming a determination to keep silent. 'What sort of factory drowns kittens in glue?'
Chalkhill's eyes widened sympathetically. 'Worried about little kittens, are we? But don't you realise, my poor child, there are far too many stray cats around the city? Most of them lead dreadfully unhappy lives. Illness ... starvation ... it's a kindness to kill off a few of them.'
'And profitable,' snarled Pyrgus.
'Nothing wrong with profit,' Chalkhill told him cheerfully. 'Young people don't appreciate these things, but I expect your saintly father would agree with me. Earns a crust, does he? Works for some profitable company?' He held up a hand. 'No, spare me the lectures, boy. The captain is quite right. If you won't tell us why you're here, we must wring it out of you.'
'I did tell him why I was here!' Pyrgus shouted. He wondered if he should make a break for the door. Chalkhill looked too fat to outrun a tortoise, but there was still Pratellus and two guards were stationed outside. 'I was being chased by some men Lord Hairstreak sent after me!'
'I can see why you didn't believe him,' Chalkhill said to Pratellus. He turned back to Pyrgus. 'Lord Hairstreak is a friend of mine -- a bosom friend. He has much bettter things to do than send his men chasing after young boys. It was Paphia, wasn't it?'
Pyrgus blinked. 'Paphia?'
'Argynnis Paphia,' Chalkhill spat. 'He's had it in for us for years, poor Mr Brimstone and myself. Don't bother to deny it -- I can see the truth in your eyes and I shall have it from your lips, mark my words.' He placed the back of one hand on his forehead. 'But I had a broken night. I am much too enervated to torture you myself. Captain Pratellus -'
'Yes, sir?' said Pratellus eagerly.
'We will take him to Mr Brimstone, captain. Mr Brimstone's demons will get it out of him.'
Six
The second person you see ...
Chalkhill was the first -- a pity that, in some ways -but, as Brimstone swung the do
or back, an unfamiliar face came into view. It belonged to a boy with red hair wearing the sort of green battle fatigues that were the ridiculous fashion among young people these days. He wasn't handsome, whatever Chalkhill claimed, but his features were pleasant enough in a disorganised sort of way. Although Brimstone was useless at guessing ages, he couldn't imagine this lad was much more than fourteen years old.
An interesting sacrifice for Beleth.
That sycophantic idiot Pratellus was standing just behind the boy. Behind them both were two wooden-top guards. Everyone was po-faced except for Chalkhill, who liked showing off his fancy magic teeth.
Faerie Wars 01 - Faerie Wars Page 5
