Джеффри Лорд: Champions Of The Gods

The days passed. Blade gradually took to staying up later and later, watching for the distant glare of flames that told of a Raufi attack. No one would notice anything amiss if he slept late in the morning. It was more important to be awake, alert, and ready to go when-and if-Arllona came. If Arllona didn't come, Jormin and his guards would, sooner or later. Then it would be even more important to be ready to fight. Blade didn't expect to survive such a fight, let alone escape. He was sure that he could at least spatter Jormin's brains all over the nearest wall.

Twice the Raufi attacked where Blade could see their fires. On a third night the sound of galloping horses and marching men told Blade of an attack on the other side of the city. Neither Jormin nor Arllona came, either by day or by night.

Again Blade awoke in darkness to hear the sound of someone at the door of his chamber. He wasted no time in cursing himself for having dozed off. Instantly awake, he rolled out of bed, snatched up the lid of the chamber pot, and padded softly toward the door.

This time the sound at the door was not the metallic clicking of a key. It was a series of solid thumps on the outside of the door. Blade flattened himself against the wall and listened. Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump. Distinct pairs-Arllona's signal. Escape now-and prepare to face two guards.

The Kanoans were so sure that no one could get out of the great prison that they left Blade's door unlocked from the inside. As he slowly turned the big bronze wheel that freed the latch, he heard murmuring voices outside. Then he heard a wordless cry, unmistakably a man's, and the thud of a body striking hard against a wall. At the same moment the latch clicked free. Blade jerked the door open just wide enough for him to pass through and strode forward.

One of the guards had Arllona backed against a wall. His trousers were down around his ankles and her tunic was up around her waist. He was lifting her clear of the ground as Blade appeared. The other guard stood by the entrance to the corridor, his sword drawn. Obviously he was supposed to be standing guard while his mate worked on Arllona. But his eyes were on the couple, not on the door. Neither man had a gun.

As Blade stepped out, the second guard's eyes flickered toward him. The man's head swiveled, his sword rose, his mouth opened to shout-all too late. Blade whirled on one foot and flung the chamber pot lid like a discus. It caught the guard squarely in his gaping mouth. His shout died in a strangled gasp and the sound of shattering bone and teeth. He dropped his sword and clawed at his mouth with both hands. He was still doing that as Blade crossed the chamber in three leaps and delivered a kick to the man's ribs. The smashed jaw sagged open permanently as the man crumpled to the floor.

Blade snatched the man's sword, then whirled to face the first guard. That gave the man time to drop Arllona and turn around. Blade shifted right, to get between the man and the entrance to the corridor. The guard looked at Blade's size, looked at the sword he was holding, and turned pale. There was only one thing he could still do. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to shout.

Blade was too far away to grab the man, and the sword was too long for throwing. Arllona lurched to her feet behind the guard and clamped both hands around his throat. His shout died and he dropped his defense to jab backward with both elbows. Arllona doubled up and reeled back against the wall, fighting for breath.

Blade crossed the chamber before the guard could move again or try another shout. His sword whistled in a flat arc, shearing through the man's neck. Severed head and headless body fell to the floor with separate thuds. Spouting blood made a spreading lake on the floor and drenched Arllona. Fortunately she still hadn't got back the breath to scream.

Blade pulled her to her feet. He held her against him, tightly enough to calm her and also keep her silent, murmuring reassuring words in her ear.

Eventually she stopped shaking. Then she stripped off her tunic and pulled on the tunic of the first guard Blade had killed. It nearly reached her knees. Blade pulled on the dead man's trousers which were almost large enough. Each picked up and belted on a sword. Blade pointed toward the corridor. «You lead. I'll follow.»

Arllona headed down the corridor so fast that Blade had to catch up with her and slow her down with an arm on her shoulder. He didn't blame her for wanting to run. But running would be risky and exhausting. They needed to be quiet and save their strength. They would have to take it slowly, and never mind Arllona's jumping nerves!

They moved down the corridor and took the right-hand branch when it divided in two. Both moved with their swords in their hands. Blade could see that Arllona was no swordswoman. She held her weapon in such a manner that she was likely to chop herself in half rather than her opponent, if it came to a fight.

At first Blade tried to keep track of the endless windings and turnings of their path downward. After a while he gave up. Eventually he even lost track of time, so that he was slightly surprised when they came out in a wide hall. On the far side of the hall was an open arcade, with warm scented winds blowing freely through the arches. Beyond the arches Blade could see the loom of shrubs and small trees, and beyond that the stars in the open sky.

He put an arm around Arllona and briefly held her close against him. She responded warmly, her lips nuzzling his throat. He would have liked to say something, but the guards in the garden might be within earshot. He gently drew back from her and nodded toward the arcade. This time she followed him as they slipped out into the darkness.

Blade was sure he could overcome two or even four guards in the roof garden. He hoped that he and Arllona could slip all the way across to the wall undetected in the darkness and the thick foliage, without fighting anybody. If they found him the guards would die, but in dying they might alert comrades who could be waiting, armed and ready, at the bottom of the wall. If men with guns appeared while he or Arllona was dangling helplessly in mid-air, halfway down the wall-

They were halfway across the garden before Blade saw even one guard. He was only a helmeted silhouette, standing immobile, his face turned toward the sky. For all the attention he was paying to the garden, Blade and Arllona might have ridden past on horseback without his noticing them.

The Gardens of Stam were visible through the trees when Arllona stopped and put a hand on Blade's arm. She pointed at a long creeping vine that sprawled across the grass in front of them. She was about to speak, when Blade put a finger to his lips. She nodded as she also heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

The other guard was walking along the outer wall. As he came in sight, it was clear he was a good deal more alert than his comrade. He kept his back toward the wall and his eyes toward the garden, one hand close to the butt of a long-barreled pistol. He stepped a few paces closer, investigating the shadows under a bush, and Blade saw that the man was wearing a breastplate, a chain-mail loinguard, and a high-crested helmet.

That wasn't good. The armor would make it impossible to strike the guard down from a distance. It would be hard enough even to stab him before he could grab his pistol. One shot would give the alert, whether it hit anything or not. How to-?

The vine! Blade dropped on hands and knees and crawled back to where the vine trailed across the grass. It was as tough as Arllona had said. He drew his sword and sliced downward. He wound up having to saw through it a strand at a time. In a few minutes he had a five-foot section cut off and pruned of all leaves. He tied a knot in each end, to give himself a better grip. Then he returned to Arllona.