Condemned (Death Planet Book 1) (19 page)

And the closer he came to the King, the more dangerous it was likely to become.

He panted and sweated as he pushed the cart across the weed-covered dirt floor of the courtyard between the inner and outer walls. To his left, men yelled and swung tools as they built a grandstand of benches, and, in front of it, a low, circular wall around a patch of dirt. Was that for the Brawl?

The only routes to the tower were through the archway, or over the wall. And, even if he could sneak up without being spotted, he wasn’t climbing ten metres, carrying twenty kilos of gunpowder and nails. He had to talk his way through the arch.

The Guards looked up as he pushed the cart toward them. Two more strode across the courtyard between him and the main gate, so he couldn’t even turn and run if he chickened out. A drone buzzed down from the sky, and hovered in front of him, following him with its cameras. Just ignore it. Act like you’re meant to be here. Two minutes, and he could be in the tower. Two more, and he wouldn’t have to worry any more.

A pig-faced hybrid watched from the left of the archway.

“Halt,” he yelled, as Daniel approached.

Daniel took a few more steps. Pig-Face grabbed the hilt of his sword. Daniel stopped, and nodded toward the kegs.

“Beer delivery.”

“No-one told me anything about that,” Pig-Face mumbled, the words distorted by the tusks on each side of his mouth. He glanced toward the short Guard who stood on the other side of the archway. “You hear about it, Nick?”

Nick shook his head.

Daniel shrugged. “I just deliver stuff, I don’t organize it.”

Could he just rush past them? Not with all the weight on the cart. Not before they could swing their swords and stab him, or one of the men on the wall could shoot him with a rifle or bow. Smack into them, maybe, but they had muscles twice his size, and probably knew how to use them. Threaten to blow them up? That would bring all the others running. He didn’t need that right now.

Pig-Face slid his sword from its scabbard, until the sharp edge of the blade flickered orange in the torchlight. He nodded toward a corner of the courtyard, away from the grandstand.

“Park it over there.”

“I’m supposed to deliver it to the tower.”

“No-one gets into the tower without permission.”

Daniel grabbed a keg, and glanced behind him. The two patrolling Guards were heading away.

“Want to try some?” he whispered.

Pig-Face spat beside Daniel’s feet. “And end up on my back screaming, with my arms and legs waggling like a dying fly? I’ve seen men poisoned, I don’t need to drink it myself. Park over there and wait.” He nodded toward Nick, then the tower. “Go and check.”

“You go,” Nick said. “I’m not getting in the shit again for pestering the King.”

“You’ll really get in the shit for poisoning him.”

Daniel shook the keg, so they could hear the liquid sloshing inside. “You’ll get in the shit if he doesn’t get his beer.”

“Oh, fuck it, I'll go,” Pig-Face said, as he slid his sword back in the scabbard. He wandered toward the tower.

Sweat was freezing on Daniel’s forehead. Unless Guy had more power than he made out, they’d come back and tell him to get lost. Or worse. He had to get past the archway, into the inner courtyard, before then.

He scowled at Nick. “If I’m late, you’ll be the one who gets in trouble.”

“If you’re trouble, and I let you in, I’ll be dead.” He ran his finger across his throat. “Better to be shouted at.”

“Do I look like trouble?”

The Guard stared at Daniel, and drew his sword. “Get over there, before I throw you in the dungeon to rot.”

Daniel grabbed the cart and rolled it away. Dammit. Guy should just have brought the beer cart in as a diversion, and Daniel could have sneaked past while they were harassing him.

What could he do now?

He had no choice. He had to start the plan from here.

The corner of the courtyard was dark, barely lit by the torches above. The Guards had turned, and were moving back across the courtyard, past him, toward the grandstand. Daniel was already wearing the bomb straps under the cloak, and just had to attach the kegs to them.

His arm shook as he searched for the two kegs of the bomb. Three in and two back, Guy said. He tapped the top of the kegs as he counted, then pulled one out. He turned it until he could see the base. A short fuse dangled out, he’d have to attach that to the other keg with the detonator, so both went off together. He placed it on the ground beside the wheel. Now, where was the other?

Five in, and six back, wasn’t it? He counted his way across the kegs from the front corner of the cart. A drone buzzed down from the sky and stared at him. Crap. He must be doing something that triggered its curiosity. Maybe the Guards, too.

He grabbed the keg and lifted it. Nothing underneath. He tilted it and shook. Beer sloshed inside. He put it back and counted again. Still the same keg.

Shit.

The drone buzzed close to his face, and twirled around his head. Daniel picked up the keg beside the one he’d checked. Still just beer. He checked another. More beer. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he checked another. Still beer.

Where the fuck was it?

He could just toss the kegs off the cart, until he found the one with the detonator. Or give in, and find some way to set off the one with the fuse. One of the torches, perhaps? Would one even be enough to kill the King? Guy had given him two for a reason.

He had to find it. He picked up another keg, shook it until he heard beer, then turned to toss it aside.

He stopped turning as he looked down at the ground.

The dirt beside the cart was empty.

The second bomb keg was gone.

A
squeak came from the shadows around Daniel. Short legs thudded across the dirt, below a muddy, white dress that barely came down to the knees.

Rat-Girl had grabbed the keg, and was sprinting toward the grandstand. A group of men mulled nearby, in the light of the burning torches they had set in the ground.

“Come back,” Daniel yelled. Even if he didn’t need the keg, she didn’t deserve to be blown up. If she was expecting to get drunk that night, she’d have a shock when she opened it.

Some of the men turned, but the girl just ran faster. Oh, dammit. Daniel ran after her, and the Guards turned to look his way. Had he just fucked up again? This whole thing sounded so easy when Guy explained it. Walk in, blow up, die. Now it was turning to shit. Like the rest of his life.

Nick stared at him as he passed the archway. Daniel ignored him, and concentrated on Rat-Girl as she dodged between the men building a circular arena, hammering tall posts into the ground, and nailing planks between them. She glanced back, squeaked, then raced toward the grandstand.

Daniel dodged to the right, to pass behind a plump man hammering a bar on a post. Then the man stepped back. Daniel smacked into his side, and the two thudded to the ground, rolling through the weeds and dirt until they came to a stop.

Daniel’s fingers clawed at the ground as he tried to pull himself up. He pushed himself to his feet, but the man’s hand grabbed his ankle. Drones buzzed in to watch.

“What the fuck are you doing?” the man said.

“I need that girl.”

A tall, thin man glanced toward her, as she vanished under the grandstand. He smirked. “I bet you do.”

“Comrade, she stole my...” Daniel was about to say beer, but the last thing he needed was for the construction workers to go looking for beer, and find a bomb. “Stuff.”

The fat man gripped his ankle tighter. “That’s no excuse for attacking me, you little shit.”

Daniel jerked his leg, trying to break free. The man just held his ankle tighter as he tried to pull away. One of the other workers grabbed him, while others helped the man to his feet. Daniel stared into a pair of eyes dull and jaded from years of doing anything to survive, with a skull tattooed around them.

Then gasped for breath as Skull-Face’s other hand punched hard into his stomach. Daniel’s head slumped down, but the man grabbed his chin and raised his face.

“We ought to teach you some manners.”

“She’s.. a... thief.” Daniel said between gasps.

Skull-Face laughed. “Who isn’t?”

“Where’s the girl, Vlad?” the thin man said.

The plump man nodded toward the grandstand.

“She ran over there.”

The thin man looked that way, and scratched his groin. “I’d better take a look. She might be messing with the grandstand.”

Daniel struggled. “Leave her alone.”

The thin man smiled. “Don’t worry about your bitch, I’m not gonna hurt her.” He spat. “Just need to empty my balls.”

“Come on,” Vlad said. “The King'll be pissed if we don't get this done for the morning.”

“I haven't had a girl in months. And he'll be real pissed if the grandstand collapses because she messed with it.”

“It’s just some street rat.”

“They all look the same, from behind, in the dark.”

Daniel tried to grab him. “I’ll kill you if you touch her.”

Skull-Face punched Daniel again. His stomach twisted as Skull-Face pulled his hand back. If he’d eaten much that day, he’d be wanting to throw up. Thank Guy he hadn’t.

“Had enough, yet?” Skull-Face said.

Daniel nodded.

“What are you doing here, kid?”

“Just delivering.”

“Delivering what?”

Daniel glanced toward the cart. Nick stood beside it, lifting kegs and shaking them.

Fuck.

Without even thinking, Daniel raised his foot, and slammed it down on Skull-Face's. Skull-Face's grip loosened as he yelled in pain, and Daniel threw his head forward, until his forehead smacked into Skull-face's, with a loud crunch.

Skull-Face released him, but Daniel stepped back, wobbling, as the sharp pain of the headbutt roared through his skull. His vision cleared, the red blur fading as Skull-Face reached out.

Daniel dodged. Vlad grabbed his arm, but he turned, and his elbow smashed into the man's stomach. Vlad grunted, and Daniel pulled his arm away.

He glanced toward Nick, then the tall man. If he blew up the King, Rat-Girl wouldn't have to live like that any more. But, if he let the tall man go, who knew what he'd do to her?

Ah, crap.

The world turned into slow motion in the adrenaline rush as he dodged Skull-face's arms. Kill the King, or save Rat-Girl? The tall man was still strolling toward the grandstand. Perhaps he’d change his mind when he saw her.

Rat-Girl’s face appeared in the dim torchlight at the edge of the grandstand. Her hands grabbed the wooden supports as she peered out. Where was the keg?

“Come out, girl,” the man yelled as he approached the grandstand. “I’ve got something hot and meaty for you.”

She stared at him, and her human eye widened. She squealed, then raced across the ground on all fours.

No, he couldn’t let that bastard get to her. He ducked under Skull-face’s next swing, and jumped back as Vlad tried to grab him. Then he turned, and ran.

The tall man accelerated. Rat-Girl dodged, but he grabbed her foot. She tried to kick his hand away, but he grabbed the other. She turned and hissed as she swung her hands toward him, her long, sharp nails slashing for his face.

Then Daniel slammed into the man’s back. Rat-Girl rolled away as they tumbled to the ground, and the tall man grunted as Daniel landed on top of him, forcing the air from his lungs.

Rat-Girl raced away into the darkness. The tall man twisted beneath Daniel’s weight. Vlad panted as he stomped up behind them, then swung a hammer. Daniel rolled aside, and it smacked into the tall man's back. He screamed as bone crunched. Skull-face reached for Daniel's leg, but he kicked Skull-face's knee, and climbed to his feet as Vlad swung the hammer again. He felt the breeze as the hammer’s rough, metal head passed barely a centimetre from his forehead. A split second slower, and he’d be looking at his brains on the ground.

What did he think he was doing?

“What the fuck is going on down there?” a Guard yelled from the wall above.

Rat-Girl reached the castle wall, and disappeared into a dark hole beneath it. Whatever she’d done with the keg, he didn’t have much chance of finding it with these assholes chasing him.

He still had a job to do.

He ducked Vlad’s next blow, and kicked him in the guts. Then dodged past Skull-Face, and ran toward the cart. Skull-Face turned, and followed.

“Stop,” the Guard above yelled.

Daniel kept running. Something swished through the air beside his head, and an arrow embedded itself into the ground to his right. Shit. Fuck. Piss.

Nick held up a keg as Daniel approached, Skull-face close on his heels, and Vlad and the tall man fighting behind him. Nick shook the keg, then turned it over in his hands, exposing something shiny and metallic in the base.

“What the fuck is this?”

Daniel lowered his head, and pushed his legs as fast as they could go. Nick grunted and fell back as Daniel's shoulder slammed into his chest.

Daniel grabbed the keg. His momentum ripped it from Nick’s hands as he passed by, then he tripped and rolled onto the ground. He rolled over, still holding the keg, and pushed himself to his feet.

Guy had rigged a pistol with a double load of powder, and the muzzle jammed through a hole into the keg. When it fired, it would ignite the rest of the bomb.

Nick clutched his stomach with one hand, and unsheathed his sword with the other. Daniel clipped the keg to the straps, pulled the trigger, and pulled the flintlock back with his thumb until it locked. Guy had rebuilt the action to work as a dead man's switch, firing when he released the trigger. He might well be the dead man in a few seconds, if he didn't stop Nick.

The Guards above pulled back their bows.

Daniel held up the keg. “I’ve got a bomb,” he yelled.

He turned, so Nick and Skull-face could see his hand on the pistol grip. “If I let go of the trigger, the gun fires, and sets it off. Kill me, and you die, too.”

And anyone within a few metres. Hopefully, including the King. It was a good plan. So long as you weren't the one who was going to get blown up.