Lakhoni (37 page)

Would
that be so bad? Maybe if he bided his time well enough, Lakhoni would find a moment
he could take advantage of and escape with Alronna.

No,
they would plan for that. The moment Lakhoni stepped out and tried to make a
deal with the man, he would be in Shelu’s power. He had to get Alronna away
now. And maybe then he and his sister would go to the mountains to the
northwest and find the Sword themselves.

“I
would look upon the Guide,” the Bonaha said. “Shelu, lead the way.”

Lakhoni
crept backward into the long, low room. He melted into the shadows. Maybe the
opportunity would come now. The group came into view and turned right, headed
for the far staircase. Lakhoni waited until they had disappeared through the
doorway and followed them. As he jogged, the sound of several feet slapping
stone stairs echoed up to him from the stairs to his left—the ones he had
taken. Soldiers?

He
broke into a run. He reached the steps that the Bonaha’s group had gone down,
but stopped immediately. More footsteps!

He
spun and hurtled back through the dimly lit room, thankful that the only light
came from the outside. Scanning quickly, he saw no more doors in the room. He
couldn’t go out on the balcony. There was no certainty that he would find a way
back in and down to Alronna. Could he bluff his way past, since he still
appeared to be a servant of the king? Not without a great delay, surely. They
would wonder what he was doing up here. The guards at the water room might have
also reported what had happened, so the soldiers might be on the lookout for a
servant who was out of place.

He
had to hide.

Lakhoni
sought out the darkest shadow. He thanked the Fathers that the sun had already
disappeared behind the mountains.

The
chill in the stone at his back felt familiar this time. Moving quickly, he
unrolled his pouch and extracted his knife, holding it at his side. At that
moment, the noise of the approaching men reached crescendo and soldiers’ heads
appeared, emerging from the stairway like spirits from a stone grave.

He
counted ten in the first group, each with a bow and two quivers full of arrows,
and didn’t dare move to count the other group from the stairs to his right. If
they saw him, he would use his knife and try to take them by surprise enough to
break through and make for his sister.

The
stone at his back had warmed now and Lakhoni imagined he was melting into
it—embraced and hidden by the massive block. Marching archers passed, their
bows strung, not saying a word. In the span of a minute, they had all passed to
the outside. He guessed twenty in all.

The
moment that the last archer disappeared into the cold gray light of dusk,
Lakhoni ran for the stairway. Running on his toes, he made no sound. Twenty
more feet and he’d be out of sight. Three more strides!

“You!”

Lakhoni
glanced over his shoulder. More archers had emerged from the opposite
staircase.

“Stop!”

Lakhoni
kept going.

A
heavy twang. His scalp crawled with instant understanding.

He
twisted left and dropped.

The
arrow grazed his right shoulder, its jagged head taking a chunk of flesh with it,
then it skittered against the stone wall in front of him. He got his feet under
him and dove for the stairs, bracing himself for the impact.

He
felt the next arrow flash above his back. This one shattered on the wall.

Then
he was rolling down the stone stairs. He relaxed his muscles and sought
control, keeping his knife away from his body.

Too
fast. A stair’s edge slammed into his left thigh; pain blossomed along his leg.
His hand and arm holding the knife hit a step, caught and twisted in sudden,
sharp pain. The knife clattered away. Another stair’s edge was just rough
enough to scrape his back as he slid and tumbled.

Then
he hit the floor of the next level. He gritted his teeth against the pain and
scanned the floor. Orange torchlight flickered on metal. He snatched up his
knife and took the next set of stairs in three controlled leaps.

Where
would the Guide be?
He flew down the stairs, every impact of his left foot sending a jarring pain
into his thigh.

Chaos.
He had to sow chaos. That was the only way he could get to Alronna now.

“They’re
in the temple! Rebels!” He shouted as he reached each landing. “They’re here!”

On
the third level, he caught a glimpse of Ree. She had made it back to the city!
Relief flooded him. She was running down a corridor, in the other direction.

“Ree!”
He tried to aim his voice just right so nobody else would hear.

She
stopped and spun, clearly surprised at hearing her name.

“Lakhoni?
What are you doing here?” Her body heaved with exertion. “Have you seen my father?
Why are you bleeding?”

Lakhoni
ran to her. He slapped a hand onto his oozing shoulder and squeezed, trying to
stop the blood flow.
She doesn’t know
. Something in his expression must
have given her a clue.

“What?
Did you see—?” Ree’s cheeks quivered.

“I’m
sorry. He was killed.”

Her
face lost all shape, she fell against a wall and burst into tears.

Lakhoni
wanted to reach for her, comfort her. “Ree, I’m so sorry.”

“Who
is that army? Why would they kill him?” Her wails echoed off the walls and ceiling.

“He
was betrayed.” He wanted to share what he’d learned; holding it all inside made
it unreal, almost a fantasy.

Two
servants ran by as he helped her to stand.
She’s my cousin.
He searched
her face, seeking a familiar detail or shape. Nothing. She just looked like a
heartbroken young woman. “A man named Molgar—”

“Uncle
Molgar?” Ree swallowed her sobs and scrubbed her face. “He’s a terrible man. I
never knew why my father made me call him ‘uncle.’ I hated the way he looked at
me.”

Uncle
Molgar?
Lakhoni
wished he knew everything that had gone on, how the Bonaha had accomplished
this chaos. “He had your father killed. He wants to rule the land. The
Usurpers’ land too.”

Her
eyes widened.

“He
brought an army back with him.”

“How
do you know all of this?” Ree stared at Lakhoni. “Who are you?”

He
had to go, had to find where the Bonaha’s group had gone. “They killed my
family. I’m here to find my sister.”

A
moment passed as shouts and other noise could be heard from elsewhere in the
temple. In the next moment, Lakhoni wanted to kick himself. “You have to go.
They’re going to want to kill you too.”

Ree
grabbed Lakhoni’s arm. “Will you come with me?”

“I
have to find Alronna, my sister.”

“Why
do you think she’s in here?”

No
time. “They think she knows something about the Sword. They want it—”

“The
Guide! It was the Guide!”

Lakhoni
jerked at Ree’s shout. “What was? Where is it?”

“Now
I get it. The Guide, it’s in the throne room, in a box. I was there when Shelu
brought it back!” Ree pulled Lakhoni in the direction she had been running.
“I’ll take you, then we can all go.”

Lakhoni
dug in his heels, pulling her to a stop. “Ree, you can’t come with me. I—I have
to try to get Alronna, but I can’t beat them.” He caught her gaze. “You have to
get out of here. They will kill you as soon as they see you.”

Ree
stood still for a moment. She squeezed his arm. “But I don’t want you to die.”

“I
don’t either. But you can leave. I can’t.”

She
looked toward the floor. “I don’t want you to die.”

He
cupped her chin, lifting her face so he could look at her eyes. “I’m not trying
to die. I want to live, but I came a long way to find Alronna. I can’t give up
now. Where’s the throne room?”

Ree
nodded. “Down this hall. One level down, turn right at the bottom and it’s the
only door on the left.”

A
moment of stillness filled the space between them. Of all the things to find in
the king’s compound. His cousin. She had to leave, had to find somewhere safe.

“Please
get out of here. Take your horse and food and go north.” He thought fast.
“There’s a village far to the northwest, through a forest. A girl named Simra,
her father’s Neas. If you can find them, tell them I sent you.”

“I’ll
try. But you come with me. Please.” Ree’s eyes watered. Fear, grief, and anger
battled on her face. It looked like anger was winning.

“I
can’t. My sister’s here.” Lakhoni swallowed. “I have to end this.”

He
stepped away from Ree, pushing her back down the hallway.

The
time had come.

Lakhoni
gave Ree a final glance and exploded into motion. He leapt up the stairs. A
servant barreled into him on the way down. Lakhoni had force and speed on his
side, and the pudgy man fell backward, legs and arms flying. Lakhoni pushed his
concern for the man away.

He
followed Ree’s directions as people streamed out of rooms, mostly panicked
servants, all of them looking around wildly. He forced his way through the
people, reached the wall, and dragged himself along it, on the side of the
crowds, until he made it to the throne room. Finally at the door, Lakhoni
pulled his dagger out and dropped his bag to the floor. He needed to be totally
free in his movements. He tested the dagger’s edge. Not as dull as he’d thought
it would be after the abuse in the canal. It would still cut skin.

He
pressed his ear to the door, but the noise of shouts and passing servants
drowned out anything being said. He sought a crack or gap, finding the
slightest space under one of the door’s metal hinges. He peered through the
gap, searching as much of the throne room as he could. Tall, shining metal
supports holding cold, thick, dark candles were spaced every few paces. When
lit, the candles must have removed all shadow from the room. Movement caught
his eye. Shelu and Gimno appeared from behind the throne, carrying a large,
ornate box. Casting around, Lakhoni saw that a halkeen
clutched Alronna,
and the Bonaha stood right next to them.

The
Bonaha. Ree’s Uncle Molgar. Who was this man? A Usurper?

He
could worry about that later. If later ever came. For now, none of the people
in the room were looking at the door. He tested the door; it swung quietly.
Lakhoni took a deep, centering breath. Stone under his feet, blood flowing to
each muscle in his body. Total control. He would have one shot at this. He had
to be fast. A slash, then grab Alronna, then run.

He
darted through the door, making for the halkeen holding Alronna. A shout from
next to the door told Lakhoni his plan had failed. The other two halkeen, he’d
forgotten about them. They had been guarding the door. He gritted his teeth and
continued, reaching Alronna’s captor just as the man turned. Lakhoni dropped
into a slide, dagger slashing the back of the man’s knee. As the man cried out
and stumbled, Lakhoni leapt up and slammed his elbow into the halkeen’s
temple.
The red warrior fell bonelessly to the stone floor.

“Khoni!”
Alronna gasped, her face slack with fear.

Lakhoni
seized Alronna’s arm, pulling her back toward the door he’d come through. A
glance told him the two halkeen would get to him before he could make it. From
the corner of his eye, he saw Shelu and Gimno explode into motion. The box
slammed to the floor, Shelu flying to the Bonaha and Gimno sprinting right at
Lakhoni.

“Hold!”
The Bonaha’s high voice cut through the room.

Gimno
settled into a relaxed stance, eyes alight and eager, a broad smile stretching
the tattoos on his face.

Lakhoni
pulled Alronna closer, desperately seeking another way out. To his left a large
portal opened that led to a balcony. The king must have stood there to address
his people. Could they make it? He yanked Alronna that way.

“Stop
them, but don’t kill either of them.” The Bonaha’s voice, soft now, made
Lakhoni’s stomach churn. This was the man, this was the person who had done it
all. His mother, father, the rest of the village. His beloved Ancum. And now
the king of the land.

Alronna
tugged Lakhoni toward the balcony entrance, even as Lakhoni saw that they
wouldn’t make it. Both of the halkeen who had been guarding the door now stood
between him and the wide portal to the outside.

“Boy,
you are worthy of respect,” the Bonaha said.

Lakhoni
faced the small man, anger at every breath the Bonaha took boiling his blood.
“And you’re worthy of death and torture.”

“This
cub has bite,” the Bonaha said, turning to Gimno. “And perhaps you trained him
too well.”

Gimno
smiled. “Respectfully, my Bonaha, this is no cub.”

Pride
swelled in Lakhoni’s chest. He fought it down, disgusted at himself. Gimno was a
murderer, a follower of a traitor and murderer.

“You
had me fooled, Lakhoni.” Gimno shared his grin with Shelu. “You convinced me
you had accepted life as a Living Dead. Got me to red.”

“Then
you’re a fool.” Shelu moved toward Lakhoni, moving his sword in complicated
patterns. “You should have just taken him as a slave.”

“You
forget, Shelu.” The Bonaha stepped closer to Lakhoni and Alronna. “We didn’t
know he was involved.”

“No
way of knowing,” Gimno said.

Lakhoni
continued to step backward as the three men closed in.

“Khoni,”
Alronna whispered. “What do we do?”

Before
Lakhoni could answer, Shelu spoke. “We have to go and tighten our hold on this
city. He angled his sword toward Lakhoni. “We are short on time.”

“No.
We retrieve the Sword.” The Bonaha turned to Gimno. “Take him. He comes with
us.”

Faster
than Lakhoni could react, Alronna was torn out of his grasp. The other two
halkeen! How had he forgotten them again? He spun and slashed at the other
halkeen, scrambling away from the entire group, eyes darting everywhere. He met
Alronna’s pleading gaze.
I’m sorry.

“Keep
them alive.” The Bonaha followed Shelu, who now carried the box holding the
Guide, toward the door of the throne room. He stopped. “The other has not
spoken yet. Perhaps you can make one of them tell you where the Sword is. I
leave it to you.” He left the room.

The
halkeen not holding Alronna flashed toward Lakhoni, drawing a curved metal
sword. He slashed diagonally with the sword impossibly fast, right at Lakhoni’s
head. Lakhoni flung himself backward and spun to the left, angling to get
inside the man’s reach. The ribs on his right side exploded in sharp agony.
Pain rang all the way to his head.

“Little
sister,” Gimno said, his voice easily carrying to Lakhoni’s ears over his
desperate struggle. “Tell me where the blessed Sword is and I will call off my
friend.”

The
red warrior was so fast! Lakhoni slashed upward with his knife, aiming for the
man’s groin area. “Tell them nothing, Ronna!”

But
the blow from the warrior hadn’t stopped at Lakhoni’s ribs. The halkeen
continued
his movement and caught Lakhoni around the back with an arm that felt like a
tree branch. The man’s sword flashed upward at the same moment that he yanked
Lakhoni tightly against his muscled torso.

Lakhoni
tried to slash the man again and pushed backward hard, right into the man’s
chest.

Losing
his balance somewhat, the man’s sword blow missed mostly, although fire erupted
along Lakhoni’s arm. More importantly, the warrior’s grip loosened.

Lakhoni
brought his knee up, aiming for the groin again. The warrior dodged slightly,
falling for Lakhoni’s feint. Lakhoni scored a long slash across the man’s left
arm, even as the warrior floated sideways and just missed with a kick. Lakhoni
stepped back, hoping to reorient himself.
So fast!

The
halkeen stepped back too, his scalp glistening with sweat. “Gimno is a good
instructor.”

“Say
nothing!” Lakhoni shouted again. His blood, cooling already, dripped from his
shoulder. It hurt to breathe very deeply. How could such a big man move so
quickly?

To
his side stood a halkeen, who held Alronna. Alronna clawed and kicked at the
tall man.

“Didn’t
know who you were at the cave.” The halkeen he was fighting
gave a tight
smile.

The
man’s conversational tone put Lakhoni on edge. Some instinct, perhaps a feeling
of movement or sound, warned Lakhoni and he ducked and spun to the left.
Gimno’s dagger slashed across the space where his neck had just been. Lakhoni
took a few more steps back. He needed to be able to see both halkeen and Gimno.
The halkeen whose leg he’d slashed was out of the fight, busy bandaging
himself.

He
knew with sudden clarity that he could not allow them to capture him. Images of
what these men might do to Alronna to convince Lakhoni to reveal the location
of the sword splashed across the backs of his eyes. Or what they might do to
him.

He
had to stay away from them.

He
stepped back. “What’s going on? Why did you kill the king?” He knew the answer,
but hoped to stall them long enough to—to what?

Alronna’s
face was tight with terror—like pale blue stone in the failing light.

 “He
was a tool,” Gimno said. “As are we all. Where is the Sword?” Gimno gave the
halkeen that Lakhoni had been fighting a look. “Inform the Bonaha that we are
almost finished here.” The red warrior nodded and departed, leaving the last
halkeen
holding Alronna, who struggled against him.

His
senses wide open, Lakhoni felt Gimno move and he flowed into a spinning crouch,
the sound of air being sliced crackling above him. Lakhoni flipped his dagger
so that the blade extended downward from his hand and slashed upward.

Gimno’s
laughter filled the stone room. “The cub certainly has grown up!”

Lakhoni
flung himself into a roll, tucking his head, then springing up into another
spin. Each movement flashed before his eyes the moment before he did it. He
raised his hand holding the dagger to chest height.

Gimno
floated closer, his teeth flashing brightly. “You are stronger. Taller. But you
can’t best me, boy.”

Lakhoni
met his teacher’s eyes. He reached into himself, seeking the ember of rage that
he knew smoldered there. He breathed deeply, taking air in to bring life to the
glowing coal. He sensed every inch of his skin, every muscle, every bone.

“I
would dearly love to test your skills.” Gimno moved his knife in a series of
slashes. “But I can’t have you dead.” He flashed a look toward Alronna. “You
don’t want him to die, do you?”

Lakhoni
held still. “You won’t take me alive.”

“I
will.”

Gimno
slashed, quicker than the eye could see. Lakhoni saw the movement in the man’s
eyes and twisted while moving his dagger to deflect the attack.

Gimno
nodded. “You remember.”

Lakhoni
smiled grimly, never taking his gaze from the man’s eyes. “Everything. And
more.”

“You
cannot best me,” Gimno said again.

“We
will see.”
Every movement, every attack.
He envisioned them all, knowing
how Gimno would fight.
And I just have to get away. As long as they don’t
have me, Alronna’s safe.

Gimno
cocked his head. “You don’t even have your first kill, do you?”

“I
will soon.” Lakhoni twisted left, as if to move into position for a low slash,
but as soon as Gimno countered with a leap and thrust, he straightened and
slashed at the tall man’s right side. Immediately he forced his body into a
tight curve and allowed Gimno’s countering slash to sail wide.

Lakhoni
rocked forward as Gimno brought his arm back, feinting for Gimno’s other side,
but then scored a deep slash on the man’s knife arm. He twisted his hips, dropping
a foot back slightly and raised his dagger to the ready position again.

Gimno
stepped back, eyes wide. “Formidable servant indeed.” Surprise dripped from the
man’s voice along with something else. Lakhoni didn’t know if it was fear or
respect. Gimno glanced at his side, where a thin line of blood now oozed, and
then his arm. The man’s eyes no longer danced with laughter.

Lakhoni
waited. He pushed all thought from his mind. The heat of rage in his middle
acted as a counterpoint to the cold focus he found. He drew upon the rage to
burn doubt and fear away. Resolve took their place.

Perhaps
twenty seconds had passed since they first traded attacks.

He
drew a final thought into his mind: a memory of the fury and grief the day
after his village was destroyed, then dancing for his loved ones, the young
man’s murder, Simra’s tender touch. A moment of perfect stillness: the stone
beneath him, evening breeze stirring the warm air of the quickly darkening
room. Lakhoni willed his rage into an inferno. Gimno had been a part of it all
along. Gimno was guilty of murder just as much as Shelu and the Bonaha.

Lakhoni
swept into motion, feinting high then twisting low. A flurry of slashes,
parries, kicks, and punches. Gimno arced back; Lakhoni’s blade cut air. Lakhoni
directed his dagger down toward the man’s stomach, aiming a knee at his groin.
Gimno sprang backward, flipping over in a smooth motion—kicking out as he went.
Not quite fast enough to dodge, Lakhoni felt the impact in his knife arm, but
held onto his blade. He twisted with the attack, forced to take two steps back.

With
a whisper of movement, Gimno stood again, dagger at the ready. Lakhoni feinted
a slash to Gimno’s left arm, twisted, and feinted again—this time at Gimno’s
chest. He parried a blow with his wrist, then drove his blade toward Gimno’s
face.

Gimno
took a small step to his left, his knife hand reaching for Lakhoni’s side.