by Troy Denning
The rickety balcony shook as the third guard rushed to strike from behind. Atreus grabbed the leader’s collar and dropped to the floor, swinging around behind him. The move catapulted his captive into his attacker and sent both men tumbling over the balustrade into the confusion below.
Atreus rolled to his knees in the doorway. Rishi was standing inside the murky chamber, staring gape-mouthed out onto the verandah. At his feet sat the heavy basket Atreus had thrown to him, and there were fresh scrape marks on the teak floor. Whether or not the Mar’s intention had been to steal, he had clearly been trying to take the cargo basket and flee.
Rishi pointed at the empty balcony behind Atreus. “You … how did you do defeat so many, good sir?”
“An ugly man learns to fight,” Atreus said, standing.
“It was a … a thing of beauty!” Rishi’s mouth continued to hang open, then his arm shot up and pointed out the door. “Good sir, watch your back!”
Atreus twisted forward and away, then glimpsed the tip of a sword arcing toward his head from across the verandah. Behind it came the guard he had knocked unconscious earlier, hurling himself off the balustrade in an assault as wild as it was foolish. Before Atreus could raise his arm to block, a tiny dagger flashed past from Rishi’s direction and sank deep into the guard’s gullet. The sword slipped from the man’s grasp, as he let out a surprised gurgle and collapsed through the doorway.
Atreus kneeled beside the man and pulled the dagger free, unleashing a stream of bright red froth. He looked at Rishi in horror.
“Why did you do that?”
“Perhaps the good sir forgets he owes me money,” said Rishi. “It would hardly do to let him get killed before he pays.”
“I wasn’t going to get killed,” said Atreus. He glanced back to see several pairs of hands reaching up to grasp the verandah railing. “But now you’ve made a marked man of me. The queen’s guards will take a poor view of having one of their own killed.”
“Then I suggest we go.” Rishi gestured at the basket on the floor. “I fear the good sir must carry his own cargo. The basket is too heavy for me.”
Atreus pulled his purse from his belt and dropped it on the floor for the dying man’s family, then he grabbed his basket and followed the Mar across the dingy room into a dark, cramped corridor. An angry outcry erupted behind him as the guards climbed onto the balcony and noticed their dying comrade. Rishi pulled the door closed and led the way toward a dingy stairwell at the end of the hall.
As they approached, Yago’s heavy steps began to rumble up the stairs, then the ogre appeared in the doorway, doubled over and packed into the narrow passage. When he saw Rishi and Atreus, he dropped to his hands and knees and tried to squeeze through the doorway.
“Not this way,” Rishi called. “We must go up the stairs. Quickly!”
Yago retreated through the door and scrambled up the stairs on all fours, the whole stairwell shaking beneath his pounding feet. Rishi followed close behind, shouting at the ogre to move faster. Atreus brought up the rear, his knees pumping furiously as he hauled the heavy basket up the steps.
A door slammed open behind him, then someone cried, “The stairs!”
The hammering footfalls of a half-a-dozen charging men began to echo up the stairwell. Upon reaching the next floor, Atreus saw how well Rishi had planned their escape. On the landing, a dozen oil casks lay stacked on their sides, held in place by a single wooden wedge lodged between the floor and first barrel. After Yago and Atreus squeezed past, Rishi turned to kick the wedge free.
It twisted sideways, but did not come out.
Rishi’s eyes widened. The angry guards reached the bottom of the stairs and started up, nostrils flaring and swords waving. Again, the Mar kicked at the wedge. This time, his toe bounced off without budging it.
Atreus squatted down and dropped the heavy basket on the floor. Rishi spun around at the resulting jingle, but he did not step out of the way.
“Move!” Atreus shouted, pulling the Mar aside.
The first guard was only a dozen steps below, staring up at the casks and sneering in relief.
When Atreus reached down and grabbed the wedge, the man’s smirk vanished. He cocked his arm to throw his sword, and Atreus jerked the wedge free. The casks tumbled loose with a deafening rumble, bouncing down the stairs to bowl the guards over backward. One keg split and spilled oil everywhere, turning the whole stairwell into a slimy avalanche of somersaulting men and flying casks.
“Well done!” Rishi exclaimed, once again eyeing Atreus’s heavy cargo basket. “Very well done. Now escape is assured.”
“I’ll believe that,” Atreus said, “once we’ve actually escaped.”
Atreus picked up his cargo, and he and Rishi started up the stairs after Yago. Although the basket was ungainly and difficult to carry, he did not even consider abandoning it. The coffer inside held many ten-thousands of gold lions, a full quarter of the fortune bequeathed to him by his unknown mother. This was the amount he had dedicated to finding Langdarma, and he had no intention of leaving it to Queen Rosalind’s guards.
They ascended three more flights of stairs, then stepped into a long hallway leading toward the rear of the building. Yago stopped and pointed toward a window at the end of the corridor, where a long plank lay on the bottom sill, stretching across a narrow alley to a similar casement in another building.
“Am I supposed to fit through that?” the ogre demanded.
“Most definitely not,” Rishi replied. “Your weight would snap the board like straw. You must continue up to the roof.”
“The roof?” asked Atreus.
“I have seen how strong the ogre is,” said Rishi. “I am sure he will not be troubled by such a small leap.”
Yago squinted out the distant window. “How far is it?”
“Oh, it cannot be far,” said Rishi. “The board itself is not five paces long.”
“Five paces?” The ogre stretched his arms apart, trying to envision the distance. “That’s got to be as long as a—”
“Five of our paces. It is no more than two of yours,” Rishi said as he braced his hands on Yago’s hips, struggling in vain to shove the ogre into the stairwell. “Now go up on the roof—and hurry! Can you not hear our enemies?”
Atreus cocked his head, listening to the sound of the pounding feet below, then nodded to Yago. “Go on. We’ll see you on the other side.”
Yago reluctantly squeezed back through the door and rumbled up the steps, leaving Rishi and Atreus to continue down the corridor alone. The Mar stopped at the window and turned to Atreus.
“No indignity is meant, but you are heavy enough without your basket, and the board is very old. Perhaps I should go first and drag your cargo along behind me.”
Atreus shook his head. “I’d feel terrible if you fell. The basket is too heavy for you.” He eyed the plank. As weathered and gray as the board was, it was also quite thick, with no sign of rotting. “You go ahead. Ill be fine.”
Rishi sighed, then leaped onto the board and trotted across as lightly as a cat. Atreus followed more slowly, holding the heavy basket away from his body so he could look down and see his feet. By the time he had taken five steps, he almost wished he had let Rishi steal the gold. The plank was bowing severely under his weight, and every step caused it to bounce so harshly he could hardly keep his balance. Forty feet below, a constant stream of Mar scurried past, oblivious to the danger that Atreus might slip and drop the basket on their heads or fall off the board entirely and come crashing down himself.
Atreus was halfway across, on the bounciest part of the board, when heavy boots began to pound down the corridor behind him. He looked up to find Rishi staring across the alley, eyes as wide as coins.
“Perhaps the master could come more quickly,” said Rishi.
“I’m coming as fast as I can!” Atreus’s gaze dropped back to the plank, and he began to grow dizzy as he contemplated the distance between his feet and the ground. “This isn’t
as easy as it looks!”
“The master is to be extolled for his remarkable balance,” said Rishi. “But Her Radiance’s men are proving most persistent.”
Atreus took a deep breath, then rushed ahead three quick steps. The plank jumped like a quarterdeck on a stormy sea, and his fourth step found the board coming up when his foot expected it to be going down. He stumbled forward and fell to one knee, slamming the heavy basket down in front of him.
The plank bucked so hard that the end bounced completely off the sill and came down an inch closer to the edge. Atreus squeezed his eyelids shut and did not move, afraid of what would happen if he allowed himself to look at the alley below.
“Come back here, you ugly devil!” growled an angry voice behind him. “The queen’s executioner will be wanting a word with you.”
A rasping noise sounded ahead, and Atreus felt the board moving backward. He opened his eyes again and saw the end of the plank slowly scraping toward the edge of the windowsill.
Rishi thrust out his arms. “Give me the basket!”
“So you can run off with it?”
Atreus crawled forward, pushing the basket ahead of him. The board jerked beneath his knees, and the end slipped to within two fingers of the window’s edge.
“Have I not earned your trust by now?” Rishi continued to reach for the basket. “I am only trying to help!”
“If you want to help, grab the board!” Atreus commanded.
“But I am only a Mar,” Rishi whined. Despite his objection, he grabbed the plank with both hands. “I am no match for the strength of the Ffolk!”
The board wobbled sideways, and the guard called, “Last chance! Surrender now, or I’ll finish you here.”
“And kill those people down there?” Atreus glanced at the alley floor, where a small crowd had finally gathered to stare up at the strange confrontation above their heads. “I doubt the queen would approve of that.”
“They’ll get out of the way.” The guard gave the plank a mighty tug.
Rishi pulled back and kept the end from slipping off the window sill, but Atreus’s knee dropped off the side. The board tipped sideways, nearly flipped, and Atreus cried out in alarm.
Rishi grunted and braced his feet against the wall, leaning back against the guard’s strength. The plank began to wobble and shudder. Atreus sat down and straddled the board, and only then did he hazard a glance over his shoulder.
At the other end of the plank, two guards stood side-by-side, both holding the board and straining to pull it out of Rishi’s hands. There were more men behind them, but quarters were too cramped for additional hands. Atreus’s heart began to pound. Even if his foes did not realize it yet, they had only to let go to send Rishi tumbling backward and Atreus plunging to his death.
The guards suddenly scowled and glanced up at the ceiling, then Yago appeared on the tenement roof, standing directly over their heads. When the ogre saw Atreus’s predicament, be frowned and kneeled, cocking his fist to punch through the roof.
“Yago, wait!” Atreus yelled
The ogre was already bringing his fist down. A huge hand smashed through ceiling of the tenement and began feeling around. Atreus turned back to Rishi and pushed the basket forward, pulling himself along behind it as fast as he could.
Rishi let out a deep groan and slipped closer to the window. The Mar’s knuckles were as pale as ivory. He kept his gaze locked on the treasure basket and did not blink. Atreus scooted another step forward. He was close enough to push the basket through the window, but Rishi was in the way.
A strangled cry sounded from the other end of the plank as Yago finally caught hold of a guard. Atreus shouted a warning to the people below, then shoved the basket into Rishi’s startled face.
The Mar had no choice but to release the board and grab the treasure basket As it dropped away, Atreus flung himself forward and caught hold of the sill. His body swung down and smashed into the wall, leaving him dangling from the window like a rag hung out to dry. The plank tumbled into the alley below, demolishing two pairs of window shutters as it bounced off the tenement walls on the way down.
“Good sir?” Rishi’s voice came from the other side of the window. “Are you there?”
“Of course.” Atreus pulled himself up onto the sill. “You’ll have to work harder than that if you want my treasure.”
“How can you say such a thing?” Rishi demanded. He was sitting on the floor with both arms wrapped around the heavy basket. “I am only trying to help.”
“And you’ve done so much. Being a hunted killer is bound to be a great help in finding Langdarma.”
Atreus swung his feet into the corridor, then looked back to see Yago’s hand hanging through a hole in the ceiling. The ogre was smashing a hapless guard about the hallway as though the man’s body were a warhammer.
“Yago!” Atreus called. “Come on.”
The ogre dropped his victim, then pulled his hand back through the ceiling and disappeared behind the roof line. An instant later he came hurtling across the alley, flailing his arms and legs as though he were trying to fly. Atreus took an instant to judge where Yago would land, then grabbed Rishi’s ankle and jerked him back toward the window.
“Good sir!” Rishi screeched. “Good sir, I am not some sack of rice to be dragged—”
The ceiling exploded into a spray of splinters and plaster, then Yago crashed down where Rishi had been sitting a moment before. The floor bucked and shook from the impact of the ogre’s ten-foot body, and Rishi’s indignation turned to shock.
“In the name of the Forgotten Ones!” he gasped, peering over his shoulder.
Yago groaned, then rolled onto his back and began to look around the dusty corridor. “Hey,” he said, “I made it …”
Something struck the tenement wall behind Atreus. He looked back to see a guard standing in the window opposite, accepting a fresh dagger from one of his fellows.
“We’re not out of the city yet,” Atreus said, grabbing the basket from Rishi’s hands and spinning around, holding it up before him. “Yago, will you get going?”
As the ogre rolled to his knees, Rishi slipped past and led the way down the hall. Atreus backed after them, holding the basket up like a shield. This did not prevent the angry guard from hurling several more daggers through the window. The knives were hardly balanced for throwing, but one managed to lodge itself in the basket and another tumbled past perilously close to Yago’s back.
At last, Rishi turned a corner and ducked down a stairwell, and Atreus finally had time to take note of the foreign sounds and smells of the building. From behind every door came melodic Maran jabber. The upper floors, used primarily for residences, smelled—perhaps even stank—of exotic cooking spices. Every now and then the trio had to squeeze past a small group of Mar coming up the stairs. The men clapped at Yago and stared at Atreus’s face with open hostility. The women retreated to the landing below and let them pass, blushing and averting their eyes. The children gasped in open awe of Yago’s size, then hissed and clapped their hands to ward off Atreus and his “wickedness.” By the time the trio reached the ground floor, Atreus felt happy to have grown up among the Shieldbreakers. At least Yago’s sons and nephews had considered his unfortunate looks nothing worse than an excuse to start a good fight.
When they reached the ground floor, Rishi led the way through an open poultry market into a narrow lane. Atreus was so turned around that until a pair of Mar wandered past carrying a long plank, he did not recognize it as the same alley over which he had been hanging a few minutes earlier.
“Over here, my banana-loving friend!”
The call came from a short distance down the alley, where a round-faced Mar with a waxed mustache sat in the driver’s seat of a large covered wagon. He was a plump man, about the same size and shape as the shadowy figure who had thrown the banana into the howdah. Hitched to the man’s wagon were two of the strangest oxen Atreus had ever seen. They had narrow, cowlike faces with curved hor
ns as long as a man’s arm, and their bodies were hidden head-to-hoof beneath shaggy skirts of golden-black hair.
Rishi draped his hand around Atreus’s elbow in the overly familiar way of the Mar and led him toward the cart.
“Bharat, my good friend! This is the unfortunate gentleman I was telling you about, and this is his large servant.” Rishi gestured at Yago. “Is everything ready?”
“Yes, yes, just as you asked. Hide yourselves beneath my carpets, and we are on our way to Langdarma.” Bharat smiled too eagerly, displaying teeth as white as snow, then nodded to Yago. “I brought my largest wagon, but even so, I fear you will have to fold your legs.”
Rishi started toward the back of the cart, but Atreus made no move to follow.
“We’re going to Langdarma in an oxcart?” he asked.
Rishi feigned a look of shock. “But of course! Surely, you did not think we could take your elephant?”
4
Bharat’s carpet wagon had nearly crested the front range of the Yehimal Mountains when the Queen’s Guard finally caught up to it. The riders, mounted on shaggy mountain ponies about the size of a good war dog, traveled lightly, with little more than sabers, haversacks, and long woolen hauberks that served as both coat and armor. Behind them, three days back and a thousand switchbacks down the wooded mountainside, lay the misty forests of Edenvale. The capital itself was still visible, a tiny dun-colored circle on the far horizon.
The guards, all rugged-faced Mar accustomed to the rigors of mountain travel, urged their ponies into a trot, surrounding the wagon on all sides. Bharat feigned surprise and reached for the axe beneath his seat, as though mistaking the riders for a company of road bandits.
“We are the Queen’s Men, driver,” said the leader. He spoke in Thorass to indicate he was on official business. “You have nothing to fear from us, unless you are the one hiding Ysdar’s devil and his murderous servants—and if you are, you will not escape us anyway. Let us have a look in your cart”
