Jess Lebow: Master of Chains

Beetlestone relaxed. That's right, he thought.

They fled before the arrows of the elite guards on the wall. He looked up to salute the archers who regularly guarded the entrance to Zerith Hold.

They were nowhere to be seen.

Now it was time to panic. If the guards had abandoned their posts, it could mean only one thing.

The Awl was already inside.

Kicking his horse again, Beetlestone tried to make his mount run faster. He wasn't going to lose the baron, not this way. Reaching the drawbridge, he could see that the portcullis and the heavy wooden doors behind it were only partially open-just wide enough for them to sneak in single file. Pulling up on the reins, Beetlestone leaped from his horse.

"Dismount," he shouted. "We go in on foot."

The others soldiers in his unit followed his lead, unsheathing their swords as they hit the ground.

"That'll be far enough," came a voice.

Captain Beetlestone turned to look up at King Korox sitting on a magnificent black steed.

"Drop your weapons and give up your allegiance to Lord Purdun, and the Magistrates will go easy on you," demanded the king.

Beetlestone stood firm, torn between his obligations to his baron and his king. Beside him, his men stood their ground, waiting for his order.

"I will not tell you again," shouted the king. "Drop your weapons and bow before your king, or we will use force."

Captain Beetlestone lowered his head in a simple bow. His hands were shaking. "I apologize, my liege," he said. He could feel his palm sweat against the hilt of his sword as he thought on what he was about to do. "But I cannot abandon my baron in his time of need." Then he turned and ran toward the portcullis.

The twang of crossbow strings sang through the night air, and the drawbridge before him suddenly sprouted bolts. Beetlestone froze in place, turning to face King Korox. He dropped his sword then dropped to one knee.

His men did the same.

"My king," he said, looking up into the eyes of King Korox, "please forgive my rash actions, but the baron's life is in mortal danger."

Giselle led the Broken Spear through the winding hallways of Zerith Hold. Neither she nor any of the men with her had ever been inside the building. They had no idea where they were going and even less of an idea where Ryder would be.

They had dealt quickly with the guards at the rear entrance. There were surprisingly few of them there, and Curtis's invisibility spell had given the Spear an advantage.

But as they worked their way through the stone corridors, Giselle began to grow nervous. This wasn't right. They hadn't encountered anyone. The halls were empty. The rooms were empty. There was no one home.

"This feels like a trap," she said to no one in particular.

"I don't think so," replied Curtis. "No. I really don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Well," said the illusionist, "they didn't know we were coming. How could they set a trap, if they didn't know we were coming?"

Giselle thought about this as they continued to run through the halls of the second floor. "Maybe they did," she said finally. "We don't know what Nazeem told them. He might have tipped them off about us."

"I doubt it," replied Curtis.

"How can you be so sure?" asked Giselle.

"I can't," replied the illusionist.

Giselle threw up her hands. "If this isn't a trap, then where is everyone?"

"Outside," said Curtis.

"What?" Giselle stopped running and looked the skinny man in the face.

Curtis smiled and pointed at the window in the far wall.

Giselle sprinted over to the edge and looked down through the warped glass at the huge battle raging below.

"When did you know they were out there?"

Curtis shrugged. "The first time we passed a window." He thought about it. "Yes, on the first floor, after we passed through the dining hall."

Giselle turned and took off toward the stairs. "Then why didn't you say something?"

"No one asked me," said Curtis.

"Come on," she growled at the rest of the Broken Spear. Then she bolted down the stairs.

Two flights later, Giselle found the entrance hall and the open front door that led out into the courtyard. She couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. Pockets of fighting were scattered all over the place. The bodies of dead men lay on the ground, their blood staining the flagstones. And though he looked far different than he had the last time they had been together, in the middle of the swirling madness, Giselle spotted what she was looking for.

"Ryder," she said, smiling. "He's alive." Lifting her sword high in the air, she shouted the Broken Spear's ululating war cry. "Yie, yie, yie, yie, yie!"

The other warriors behind her did the same, filling the entire courtyard with the bouncing sound.

Then they charged into the fray.

Ryder stood facing Montauk, a chain swinging in each hand. Behind him, Liam held off the vampires coming from the other direction.

"I never did like you," said the master of chains.

Montauk smiled. "That's funny," he said. "I thought I'd had you killed."

Ryder nodded. "I'll hand it to you. I never would have guessed it was you."

Ryder's chain lashed out, wrapping around Montauk's sword arm. He pulled, attempting to disarm the man before caving his head in. But Montauk proved to be much stronger than Ryder, and he pulled back on the chain with the force of an elephant. Ryder was jerked forward and sent sprawling onto his belly at Montauk's feet.

"How could you have guessed?" taunted Montauk. "You with your miserably short lifespan."

Ryder tried to get to his feet, but Montauk stepped on his back, holding him to the ground with one foot.

"But I suppose I should be thanking you for opening the gate." Montauk laughed. "Then again-" He stepped down hard, crushing Ryder's ribs against the flagstones- "It's far more enjoyable to kill you again."

Ryder struggled to get free, but Montauk was just too strong. His chest felt as if it were going to collapse, and his ears were ringing. The muscles along his ribcage burned from being stretched. The harder Montauk pushed, the louder the noise in Ryder's ears grew. The sounds of battle that had moments ago filled the courtyard were swallowed up by the whining.

Then his vision began to narrow. It was just at the periphery at first, but then the center began to go blank. He lost track of Liam. The world was disappearing. Soon it would all be gone.

Ryder turned his head, looking out over the courtyard. With his last sliver of vision, he could just make out a robed woman stepping up beside him. From what sounded like a great distance, he could barely make out her voice.

"Let go. He's mine," she said. Then she slashed down with a curved blade on something outside Ryder's limited vision.

Montauk's foot came off Ryder's back, and the world flooded back to him. The ringing in his ears was replaced by the thumping of his heart. His vision cleared, and he could breathe again.

Rolling to one side, Ryder struggled to his feet. Giselle had slashed a large wound in Montauk's neck, and the man held his bleeding throat with both hands.

Giselle pressed in with her attack, coming down-her scimitar in both hands-on Montauk's face.

"Enough," shouted Montauk, and he raised a bloody hand, catching Giselle's blade with his open palm.

He tore the blade from her grip. Not bothering to turn it around, he slammed the hilt into Giselle's chest, knocking the leader of the Broken Spear back into Ryder.

"I'm done toying with you," said Montauk, his voice gravelly and hoarse. He tossed Giselle's blade aside. As he did, Ryder could see the slashed flesh on his palm knitting itself back together, healing as if he'd just consumed a magic potion.

Stepping forward, Montauk grabbed both Ryder and Giselle by their throats. "Now you will die." He began to squeeze.