Michael Sullivan - The Crown Tower

His heart hammered, thumping way too fast for a man lying on his back. Beside him, over the ringing in his ears, he heard Hadrian get to his feet.

“Why’d you do it?” Royce asked.

“What?”

“Come back. You were safe. You were at the rope. Why’d you come back?”

“Same reason I’m not leaving you here.”

Royce heard the scrape of metal on stone as Hadrian gathered up his sword. A moment later he felt himself being moved. A sharp pain ripped through his center; then the black flooded in.

When Royce opened his eyes, nothing made sense. He was upright, his face pressed against Hadrian’s back, and the two were flying in the air. They slowed, and Royce felt the dig of the harness. Letting his head drop, Royce saw they were still halfway up the tower. The street below was a gray line no wider than a bit of string.

“What are you doing?” Royce asked.

“Welcome back.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I liked you better when you were unconscious.” Hadrian let out another length and the two plummeted.

When they slowed again, Royce felt the pain rip through him, once more making his head fuzzy. There was a tight pressure around his waist squeezing him and making it hard to breathe. “I just want to make sure you understand how utterly stupid you are. You’ll never get away dragging me with you.”

“You know, I never really appreciated your silence before, but it really is one of your virtues.”

They hung still as Hadrian prepared to jump a pin. “Don’t move.”

Royce would have laughed if he wasn’t so concerned his insides would fall out. He couldn’t see anything, but he could make guesses based on the sounds.

Hadrian grunted, shifted his body, grunted again. He made a fast jerk that bounced Royce’s head; his cheek slapped the leather of the big sword’s scabbard.

“You were right about the swords,” Royce said. “You really do need three.”

“You sound drunk.”

“I feel drunk-and I hate being drunk. Nothing works the way it’s supposed to. And it makes me act stupid … like you.”

“You’re aware I’m in the process of trying to save your life, right?”

“What part of stupid don’t you understand?”

Hadrian moved again and Royce felt the harness tighten, and once more they dropped, swung out, slowed, pushed off, and dropped again.

“Those other two swords snapped like chicken bones,” Royce said.

“Yeah, I don’t know how that happened.”

“This big one didn’t.”

“No.”

“So why not make all the swords like that?”

“I didn’t make that one.”

“So in addition to being stupid, you’re also a crappy smith?”

“I could drop you.”

“But you are a damn fine swordsman. Arcadius was right about that-the bastard. I really hate that old man.”

Another changeup, another couple drops, and they touched down. They could hear shouts, but they were on the far side of the tower. Royce looked but didn’t see any sign of the golden guard’s body. Hadrian must have pushed him off farther away than he remembered.

“Dear Maribor, you’re heavy,” Hadrian growled as he untied the rope.

“No, I’m not. You’re wounded.” Royce moved his hand and felt the blood-soaked clothes. “God, we’re bleeding like a slit throat.”

“You’re bleeding more than me,” Hadrian said.

“Oh, does that make you feel better?”

“Actually it does.”

Free of the line but with Royce still strapped to his back, Hadrian began staggering up the street. They could hear the slamming of doors and more shouts but had yet to see anyone.

“Now what?” Royce asked.

“Why ask me? I’m the idiot, remember? You’re the genius. What should we do? Go back to the horses, right?”

“We’ll never make it.”

“But you said it was an easy walk.”

“That was when I could walk and when we weren’t leaving a trail of blood. We really don’t stand a chance.”

“So far I’m not impressed with your genius.”

“I’ll admit, I think better when I’m not bleeding to death.”

Hadrian ducked into a narrow gap between two stone houses. Somewhere a horn sounded, impossible to tell where as the alarm bounced between the buildings.

“What about the river? I saw it from the tower. It’s just over here, isn’t it?” Hadrian moved deeper into the densely packed section of shops and homes. Staying to the alley, they reached the low wall that ran along a curving cobblestone street. Twenty feet below was the river. “We could jump.”

“Are you crazy?” Royce said.

“We can float, right? No blood trail, and it will carry us out of town.”

“I’ll drown.”

“Can’t you swim?”

“Normally yes, but normally I can walk too. I’m just not confident I can do it and hold my guts in at the same time. And it’s a drop. When I hit the water, I’ll pass out.”

“You’re staying strapped on my back. I’ll keep your head above the surface.”

“Then we’ll both drown.”

“Maybe.”

Hadrian peered over the edge as more horns sounded and then a bell began ringing.

“Okay,” Royce said.

“Okay what?”

“Okay let’s jump in the river.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. As long as we go in together-that way I’ll know that if I die, you will too.”

He heard Hadrian laugh. “Deal.”

Hadrian took a step. As he did, Royce gained a clear view of the alley and saw the remains of a broken crate. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Grab that wooden box in the alley.”

Hadrian turned. “How did you see that?”

More bells chimed, and the horns continued to blare until it sounded like midnight on Wintertide. Then at last with box in hand, Hadrian climbed up on the wall. Royce felt the unsteady lurch as Hadrian pushed himself up and almost stumbled.

“Hold your nose,” Hadrian told him, “and try not to scream. This is going to hurt.”

“Probably only for a second.” Royce chuckled. He’d given up caring and discovered all that was left was the absurd.

“Always the optimist, aren’t you?”

“Jump already!”

“Okay, set?”

“Yes.”

“One … two…”

“Before I die, please.”

Hadrian grunted. Royce felt the lunge and the fall. Rushing air blew back his hair, then … nothing.

Rose stood behind Gwen, watching as she blocked the front door and shook her head, denying the customer entrance to Medford House. She did this while glaring at him, which required her to tilt her head back, as the man before her was huge. He was so tall he would have had to duck his head to enter, if she had let him.

“But I’ve got good coin!” the man bellowed at her, bending over so that their noses almost touched. Rose had never seen a bear, but that’s how she saw him-a giant monstrous bear who was trying to barge his way into their home. She imagined this was how one would act, roaring into the face of a fox that for some inexplicable reason stubbornly stood its ground.

“I don’t care if you’ve got the Crown Tower jewels in your purse,” Gwen replied. “There are rules.”

“I don’t give a rabid rat’s ass for your rules! I came here for a whore. I have money for one. I’m having one.”

“Not unless I say so, and I won’t allow it until you abide by the rules.”

“I won’t take no bath!” The bear puffed the words into her face so hard the air moved Gwen’s hair.

Gwen’s arms came up and folded in front of her. “Then you won’t take no lady .”

“I don’t want a lady . I want a whore, and you don’t need to bathe to get a whore.”