Bloodstone (8 page)

"We'll try to drive them back!" shouted Kane without conviction. "We've got the obelisk to our backs--that leaves only the one direction they can rush us from! They'll charge the stairway we've cleared for them, or one farther down--either way, that bottlenecks their attack! Bows ready! We'll pick them off as they come up the stairs! Shoot well if you'll live! There's a chance to slaughter enough to discourage their charge!"

And every man there knew that chance to be infinitesimal, and their prospects should they miraculously break the Rillyti onslaught even bleaker. To stain these stones with batrachian gore might make death sweeter, but no less final.

The Rillyti threw themselves at the wall, springing up the partly cleared stairway at as frantic a pace as the congested passage would permit. At close range, the archers fired into the foremost ranks. Roars of pain and rage boomed from the swamp creatures' throats as the powerful shafts skewered vital targets with withering accuracy. With each mortal wound, an amphibian pitched writhing into space and tumbled flailing against those behind. Their agonized contortions dislodged the others and checked their rush until the slain could be thrown over the edge. But the rush could be held only for a moment. Relentlessly the Rillyti stormed up the stairway, though the slaughter was great, and the steps grew slippery with their blood, the rubble below laden with flopping bodies.

Those who milled at the foot of the stairway shortly grew frustrated at the slow progress and thought to reach their enemy by a shorter route--although it was clear that the attack along the stairs moved inexorably nearer. A few with great hops caught the thick creepers that clung to the wall and began to climb. Others followed their lead, and quickly; the wall was wriggling with a growing horde of clambering Rillyti. Although awkward and heavy, the amphibians used their clawed strength to great advantage--having some occasion to climb in their normal circumstances--and their ascent threatened to overwhelm the defenders in a short time.

Kane immediately noted their new line of assault, and he ordered his two worst archers to ward off this latest threat. With the slackened fire, the charge up the stairway accelerated alarmingly, but Kane knew an attack from more than one point would mean inescapable disaster. And the quivers rapidly grew depleted--only the arrows salvaged from the earlier skirmish had saved their supply from exhaustion before this. With their tough, warty hide and reptilian vitality, the Rillyti were difficult to bring down, often shambling forward in defiance of several well-placed shafts.

Desperately the soldiers hacked at the taut vines, seeking to check the assault on the wall. Often their efforts succeeded, for as the heavy batrachians recklessly flung themselves onto the lianas, the dragging weight became too great a burden. Weakened by the sword blows, one creeper after another tore loose from the wall and plummeted to the earth with its load of luckless climbers. But the lianas were on all sides, and many were too firmly rooted to be dislodged. It soon became necessary to fire down them point-blank, as the climbers struggled to the top. And then their swords had to meet flesh and bronze as the Rillyti reached the rampart.

The Rillyti gained the head of the stairway at about the same moment they broke over the parapet. With the detached calm that comes to fighting men who know death inescapable, Kane and his tiny force sent the last of their arrows drilling into those first to leap onto the rampart. In one corner of his mind, Kane saw the victim of the hornet's sting flung out from the wall, to plunge among the horde yet gathering on the ground below. He felt regret that he would never know whether his surgical efforts had been successful.

The killing that ensued was too one-sided to be termed a struggle. The two who sought to repel the climbers went down immediately, their reddened blades unable to dam the flood that swept over them. Another wave of Rillyti swarmed up the stairway, their rush unimpeded by silent bows.

"Make for the gate pillar!" roared Kane, knowing that they would be instantly overwhelmed by an attack on both sides. Not that the outcome would be altered. "Put the stone to our backs! We'll leave a few less toads to croak tonight!"

Determinedly they rushed toward the Rillyti who were just scrambling over the parapet. Gold blades swept up to bar their path; at their backs the rampart echoed the slapping tread of those who pursued them from the stairs. Kane led his men with a fury no strength could match. One batrachian was blasted from the parapet by the force of Kane's sword; another dropped under the gutting slash of his knife. A scream, and the man beside him reeled with a spear through his side. Kane whirled to lop off the climber's other arm as it reached over the parapet. Trailing scarlet droplets, the creature tumbled away from its hold, its webbed hand left locked about the vine.

Not yet in full possession of the rampart, the Rillyti fell away under their concerted rush. Face twisting in hate, Kane drove through their unformed ranks, dashing past the blades and taloned hands that clutched from the parapet. His desperate strength clove a path through, as none could stand before his blade. Behind him another of the soldiers died. Blood streamed from two shallow gashes that he never felt strike. And then they reached the gate pillar--Kane, Banlid, and a last mercenary, who slumped against the stone and slid slowly to the walkway as the Rillyti poison stole his last strength.

The timeworn obelisk at their backs, before them the amphibian horde was grouping for the final rush. The wall now crawled with Rillyti, bronze weapons poised to reave, bufanoid faces hideous in yellow-fanged grimaces of rage. Their cold, noisome breath seemed to brush against Kane and Banlid like the icy touch of death.

"We were fools not to turn back!" Banlid groaned. "While we violated their sanctuary, the swamp devils called together their hordes to ensnare us! Kane, we die now as no brave man should ever die!"

"I still have a last throw of the dice!" snarled Kane defiantly.

Taking a deliberate stride toward the advancing Rillyti, Kane dramatically extended his left arm--his hand a clenched fist. The batrachian ranks shuffled a step or two closer... then faltered! Croaking among themselves in subdued tones of confusion, the Rillyti suddenly halted.

Numb in disbelief, Banlid stared with jaw buried in double chin, not daring to guess how long this miracle might last. Initially, the shock was too stunning-some sort of garbled thought suggested that Kane's weaponless defiance had caused their confused hesitation. But a moment passed, and Banlid followed the gaze of those many bufanoid eyes.

He saw the massive bloodstone ring that blazed like a great inhuman eye upon Kane's fist and observed how the darting rays of the sun shone upon the gem, made the bloodstone glow like a living flame. He felt the sudden hush of awe that fell over the vengeful army of swamp creatures and sensed for himself the aura of unthinkable power that pulsed within the ring.

Like a scythe, this incredible reversal of mood passed through those Rillyti gathered about them and stilled their blood-mad roars, the murderous rush upon the wall. As knowledge spread among them, the batrachians fell into uncertain milling, their excited croaking softened under some indefinable emotion... was it dread? The sudden silence that crept over the beleaguered wall was eerie with the dying echoes of battle.

A specter in the macabre tableau, Kane took a slow step forward. A lifetime reached across the completion of that stride! And to Banlid's already overtaxed mind came another miracle beyond belief, transcending all hope. The foremost Rillyti moved back a step!

Another step. Now more of the creatures recoiled. By Shenan... they were retreating!

Deliberately Kane stalked toward them, fist extended so that all could behold the bloodstone ring. Reluctantly, inexorably as the ebbing tide, the Rillyti retreated before him, slunk back along the wall, stole down the stairway. Some broke for the swamp and disappeared into Kranor-Rill carrying news of unimaginable portent to their tribes. The major part of their number drifted back along the streets and into empty doorways, to watch intently from the shadows. It was not truly a retreat, Banlid realized, but something different--an aura of ominous expectancy. Their harsh croaking--surely a rude language--imparted a further sense of waiting... of reverence... of fear... Why?

"I understand now why you scrambled like a madman to regain that ring," whispered Banlid, following uncertainly in Kane's shadow. "Is it some sorcerer's ring of power? What enchantment drives them back?"

Kane's face was transfigured in a storm of emotion. "The ring has no power yet--at least, I don't think so!" His voice was cracked, still shaken with unbearable tension. The nightmarish sequence of events had overstrained even his iron nerve, so that he dropped his normal veiled manner. "The Rillyti know this ring--they recognize Bloodstone! After centuries their race yet remembers the unearthly power this ring can command!"

The Book of the Elders had suggested such racial memory, hinting that worship of Bloodstone yet survived in certain demented rites among the Rillyti. Kane had studied the passage with obsession, brooded countless hours over the secrets hidden within other scraps of legend and black lore, seeking to wrest every particle of ancient knowledge from beyond the veils of time. A vast amount had escaped him, some areas beyond wildest conjecture. Sufficient facts were certain, however-enough to tempt him to fantastic risks. Alorri-Zrokros had maintained that the Rillyti would recognize the ring and honor its bearer; Kane was himself confident that this was indeed the ancient ring. But he had not intended to make the proof of the madman's visions rest on so terrible a test. Kane had fought free of death's grasping claws uncounted times. Still, this headlong plunge into unthinkable disaster, which his forced gamble had checked at the final instant, left him stunned in its aftermath.

Banlid watched the other man calculatingly. His thoughts pieced together numerous items of information regarding Kane--various bits of fact, threads of doubt that had never taken full form, the questions Dribeck had raised concerning the stranger. The Selonari lord has been astute in sending Banlid to keep watch over Kane--Banlid whose rotund frame belied the hardened fighter, as did his sleepy appearance mask a quick mind.

"The bloodstone ring you must have found and recognized as some sort of key to the ancient Krelran mysteries?" he questioned, as they descended the stairway. At Kane's distracted nod, he persisted, "Now that you've reached Arellarti, do you believe you can fathom its lost secrets? Can you command the power this ring may unlock?"

Kane's cold eyes were searching his now. The red-haired stranger was off his guard no longer. His answer came with sardonic tone.

"Yes."

But by this point Banlid had already begun to suspect the essential elements of Kane's designs.

"The Rillyti are overawed for the moment," he suggested. "Let's make a break for it before they lose their enthrallment!"

Kane shook his head. "They're not likely to. The power I've fought to possess lies nearby. Before another dawn, I'll explore Arellarti's secrets, or else there'll be no dawn!"

"You'll never succeed in carrying anything of value out of here on your own," Banlid pointed out. "We need to return to Selonari for more men."

Nervously he glanced toward the open gate, the ruined causeway leading across the darkening swampland. "Look, Kane... stay the night here if you're set on daring these devils to tear you to ribbons. But I'm heading back to Selonari right now--and on my own, if you mean to stay. Lord Dribeck will be grateful for whatever discoveries you've made for him. He's sure to send back enough men to help transport any useful artifacts to Selonari. You'll be made a lord, Kane--if the Rillyti don't finish you before dawn!"

"Go if you want to. I'm going to risk it," Kane replied.

Sweat chilled the small of his back as Banlid considered the stranger's ice-fire eyes. "Then I guess I'll try to get through." Could he dare hope Kane had not understood the full reasons for his fear? "If that ring gives you any kind of control over these Rillyti, see if you can persuade them to let me through the swamp." He reminded hopefully, "After all, I saved your life back on the trail when you were grubbing through the muck. I know you won't forget that."

"Hell, Banlid!" Kane muttered impatiently. "Go on and lose yourself in Kranor-Rill--I won't stop you! I don't know how much hold I've got over these toads... or how long it may last. But your chances here with me are better than if you try to follow that causeway after dark!"

"Well, I'll take the chance," returned Banlid. Resolutely he turned and trudged for the gate, trying to forget the numberless terrors that lay between Arellarti and the distant forests. The Rillyti alone presented enough threat, even if-

An envenomed blade drove through his back, ending his fears forever.

Pensive, Kane looked down at the spear-impaled form, half wondering that he felt no regret. Had the centuries stripped from him every vestige of humanity, then? "There was an outside chance you might have gotten through," he explained to the corpse.

If this sudden flash of violence perturbed the Rillyti, there was no indication. The swamp-dwellers had scattered, although many a hulking form could be seen standing apart or huddled in small groups. Though none came near him, their slitted eyes turned upon him a gaze of unfathomable interest. A low croaking passed among them--harsh rumbling syllables that conveyed a note of urgent excitation.

How long their awe of the bloodstone ring might maintain this nervous truce, Kane cared not to guess. He was gambling on the blighted wisdom of one whose visions brought madness coincident with lost knowledge. To win meant power whose limits Alorri-Zrokros had but hinted; failure would be disaster that similarly confounded human imagination. Since that night in Jhaniikest's tower, Kane had given no thought to the odds.

Warily Kane turned his back on the death-laden portal and stepped determinedly into the street. A few of the Rillyti stood in his path, but as he strode toward them, they shuffled away hastily. As he passed, Kane sensed that the watchers were following at a cautious distance. Continued beyond the gate as the swamp-buried causeway, the main avenue radiated through the Krelran city from its central nave. Garlanded with creepers and sparse undergrowth, its geometric perfection was only slightly hidden by leaning walls and heaps of debris. The colossal dome, now blotting out the setting sun, squatted at the city's heart, its curved walls arched above the peripheral structures in sullen mockery of a rainbow.