The Adventure of the Denver Walker

by Kevin L. O'Brien

shading from the sun, but it would be more of a hindrance than a help in clandestine activity. She focused on Eile and indicated for her to start before her. Eile responded with a grin and a wink of an indigo-blue eye. Differel gave them both an a-okay sign as she pulled out a pistol, before turning and darting across the opening of the break to the other side. When she looked back, she saw Eile peeking into the courtyard. The sober, rock-solid member of the duo, she went by the name of Braveheart. She was thinner and tougher than her partner, with a long seal-brown ponytail and forelocks dyed a vivid fuchsia framing her ochre-toned face. She preferred to duel with her opponents face-to-face, and like a typical knight-errant she wore armor: a hauberk of cuir bouilli covered with bronze metal scales, an armoured bustier, and shoulder guards over a leather unitard, with gloves and boots. She had no helmet, but carried a wooden shield faced with metal strapped to her back, which she used to good effect with her broad, short-bladed sword.

  Eile glanced at her and flashed a thumbs up. She put an arm around Sunny and gave her a quick smooch on the lips, then waited as her partner aimed high and fired an arrow over the wall. It whistled as it flew and clattered against rocks behind the Leng Men. As soon as they turned to see what had made the noise, including Victor, Eile slipped inside and made off along the wall's inner perimeter. Her destination was a collapsed tower further down the circumference that would put her behind and to one side of the Leng Men. Differel let her make the first move because she had the farthest to go.

  As soon as she passed beyond the firelight, Differel looked at Sunny and nodded. She returned it and nocked another arrow. She fired again in a different direction and Differel ducked around the corner of the break. At the same moment, however, the Leng Man on the opposite side of the fire glanced in her direction, and she threw herself face-down behind a line of tall weeds along the inner side of the wall. The Lengite frowned and looked past his fellows, as if trying to get a better look at something he glimpsed for a moment. Differel lay still and held her breath. Her blood-red great coat, forest-green trousers, and mud-brown boots and gloves were dark enough to blend with the shadows, and she turned her face towards the ground to hide her medium-tan skin, but her long smoke-gray hair might be visible if the light was right. After a few moments, however, the Leng Man turned his attention back to his companions and took a drink from his bottle.

  Exhaling a quiet sigh, Differel crawled along the edge of the wall until she reached the side of Victor's building. Standing, she flattened her back to the structure and looked out into the courtyard. The Leng Men were still preoccupied with their reverie. Gazing across the open area, she saw Eile wave at her from behind the tower. She was in position.

  Differel signaled her acknowledgement, then turned away from the corner and moved towards the back of the building. The space behind it lay in shadow almost to pitch blackness, except for a light that spilled out a hole onto the curtain wall. A man-shaped shadow played over the stone blocks, flickering with the campfire.

  She groped through the darkness, feeling her way with her free hand on the building. When she reached where the light came from, she found an opening big enough to step through. The room beyond consisted of a single large space with four pillars down the center. Three yaks were tethered to one side, and their packs stacked nearby against the far wall. Almost directly across from her she saw Victor silhouetted against the firelight.

  Holstering the pistol, she crawled through the hole and deftly sprinted across the room to stand on the left side of the threshold. Victor stood taller than her by a head, with a strong svelte body. That handsome, angular face, with its chiseled, rugged features of a cinema star and wavy collar-length walnut brown hair, could make her swoon like a schoolgirl, though his goatee gave him a diabolical caste.

  He stiffened, as if hearing something, and his head twitched as he made ready to turn it.

  "Don't look," she whispered.

  He relaxed and a faint smile crossed his lips. "I figured you'd come," he murmured. "Did they contact you or Karchedon?"

  "Me. As luck would have it, I had just arrived at my mansion in Celephaïs when I received the ransom demand. But I never had any intention of paying."

  "That goes without saying, My Love. Is Team Girl with you?"

  "Naturally."

  "I expected you sooner."

  "Bloody cheek. I stalled the negotiations as long as I could, but I wasn't able to discover where they were holding you, so I arranged to make the exchange here at noon tomorrow, and I insisted they bring you along. I refused to cooperate unless I could see you were alive and well."

  "I appreciate that. You do realize this is a trap."

  "Of course. I'm well aware of the various rewards the Moonbeasts and others have offered for my head. I calculated they would arrive ahead of us to set up their ambush, so we got here early."

  "Well, better late than never, I suppose."

  "You're one to talk. I'm still trying to figure out how you got yourself into this mess."

  "I'd be more than happy to enlighten you later."

  "We have some time. I want to wait for them to get good and plastered. Besides, the Punicae authorities were less than forthcoming."

  "Very well. Queen Elishat had sent me on a mission to Lelag-Leng."

  Victor had been a British diplomat in the Waking World before he died, and he continued that profession in the Dreamlands, only now he worked for the city-state of Karchedon, which ruled the island-nation of Punica.

  "She commanded me to keep a low profile, so as not to raise suspicion. I decided to travel as a trader, and I had hired these four 'gentlemen' to be my escort. One of them must've recognized me, or they were tipped off. Either way, they kidnapped me as soon as we arrived in the Northern Lands. The rest you know."

  "Why didn't you wait until my next Dream cycle?"

  "I couldn't; the mission was time sensitive, and frankly you're too recognizable." He then shrugged. "Besides, this isn't the first time I've done something like this. Now, if you don't mind, I would appreciate being rescued."

  "Hmph. A damsel you're not."

  "I couldn't agree more, though I find the parallels amusing, and I'd be more than happy to offer the usual reward. But, seriously, could we table this discussion for another time? I really would like to be set free sooner than later."

  "Patience." She examined his bonds. His wrists were secured by ropes looped around the lintel through gaps between the masonry. She could see no slack, but the cords ran along the underside of his palms and wrists.

  A half-smile tugged at her mouth. "I have an idea."

  "A successful one, I hope."

  "It will be tricky. I'll need you to stay perfectly still."

  "I believe I can manage that."

  She grinned at his sarcastic tone. He didn't like taking a passive role.

  "I'll be right back." She patted him on the rump as she retreated into the middle of the room. She turned and positioned herself until his body blocked her view of the fire, then started forward in a slow and careful manner. She intended to hide herself from the Leng Men as she came up behind him.

  The distance between them shrank with interminable slowness, but finally she came close enough to embrace him. "I've arrived. Don't move." He didn't reply, but she didn't expect him to.

  She drew her poignard dagger from her belt and crossed her arms over her chest. She opened them across her face and held them on either side of her head. After a moment she raised and spread them until they matched the position and placement of his arms, as near as she could with their height difference.

  "Hold the ropes with your hands." He grasped them as if using them for support.

  "All right, this is the tricky part. I'm going to try to slip my dagger blade between your wrists and the ropes, then cut the latter, but don't let go."

  He gave his head a twitching nod to indicate he understood.

  She strained on tiptoes, steadying herself by gripping his other arm, as she stretched to re
ach his right wrist. She tried poking with the tip of the dagger to slip the long, thin, razor-sharp blade between his wrist and the rope.

  "Ouch!" he hissed in a whisper.

  She froze as one of the Leng Men looked in their direction, but he only grinned with evil mirth at their captive's apparent discomfort and turned his attention back to his companions.

  "That was close," he murmured.

  "Hopefully he was too drunk to notice anything. Relax your wrist."

  A gap opened up between the rope and his arm, and she inserted the blade through.

  "Now, pull the rope taught." He did so, and she started sawing.

  "It's working."

  "I know, I can feel the strands part."

  She sliced through the cord in seconds. "Keep holding the rope. It will look like you're still secure."

  "Figured that out the first time."

  "Bloody cheek." She lowered her arms and transferred the dagger to her left hand. "I have half a mind to leave you like this while I kill them myself."

  She turned her head as she raised her arms, and caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Whipping around, she spotted a dark shape fly at her; firelight flickered off the polished blade of a shamshir scimitar. Following through with her turn, she parried the blow with the dagger and lashed out with a jujitsu kick, knocking her attacker back.

  "What's happening?" Victor asked.

  Coming in April.

  From "Dribble & Maggot in the Land of Dreams"

  Sir Differel Van