Part 36 (2/2)
And of his age. And his sword kept beating the backs of his legs.
”We're going down by the stair,” he muttered when he rolled onto the upper ledge.
Trebilc.o.c.k smiled, a thin, humorless thing in the reflected firelight. ”Would've been easier if we'd gotten here before the rain.”
Ragnarson's stomach flip-flopped as he realized how easily he could have slipped.
Dantice crept back from the window. ”Can't tell if there's anybody inside.”A head popped out. Bragi recognized Nepanthe. She didn't see them. ”Inside,” he growled. ”Quick.”
Dantice went. They heard his sword clear its scabbard. Trebilc.o.c.k and Ragnarson plunged after him.
Sounds of struggle, of steel against stone. Dantice cursed. ”She bit me!”
”Nepanthe!” Bragi snapped. ”Settle down!”
”She started to yell,” Dantice said.
”Michael, find a lamp.” Ragnarson moved the other way. ”d.a.m.n!” He bruised his s.h.i.+n on something low.
Someone crashed to the floor. Metal skittered across stone. ”Marshall, I'm going to clout her!”
”Easy, son. Nepanthe! It's me. Bragi. Behave yourself.”
Cang-chang. Sparks flew. A weak light grew, illuminating Trebilc.o.c.k's face. As the flame rose, it revealed Nepanthe and Dantice on the floor. Aral had one hand on her mouth, his legs scissored around her. He was fending a dagger with his free hand. Bragi kicked the weapon away.
He grabbed handfuls of Nepanthe's hair and forced her to look at him. ”Nepanthe.
It's me.”
Her eyes widened. Her fear subsided. She relaxed.
”Can you keep quiet now?”
She nodded. He grinned as Dantice's hand bobbed with the motion. ”Let her go, Aral. Michael, look at his hand.”
Dantice winced when he put weight on that hand while rising. Ragnarson helped Nepanthe up.
”Take a minute,” he said as she started babbling. ”Get yourself together.”
After she calmed down, she explained how the stranger had come to Valther's house and convinced her that Mocker had gone into hiding because Haroun had tried to murder him. He feared Bragi was in on it. The messenger had brought Mocker's dagger as a token. And she had always suspected Haroun of the worst.
”He could do it if he thought he needed to,” Bragi observed. ”But how would Mocker have been a threat to him?”
”I never thought about it. Not till I found out they tricked me.” She started crying. ”Look what I got you into. What're you doing here, anyway? Who's watching things at home? I heard about Fiana. They tell me all the bad news.”
”I'm here because you are. Because Argon seems to be behind all our trouble.”
”No. It's s.h.i.+nsan. Bragi, there's a Tervola.... He controls the Fadema.... I think. Maybe they're partners.”
”I mean to find out.”
”But.... You're only one man. Three men.” To Michael she said, ”Thank you. Did you get the casket to Varthlokkur? And you. I'm sorry. I was scared.”
Dantice smiled. ”No matter, ma'am.” He sucked his injured hand.”He brought the Tear back, yes. Tell me about the Tervola. Does he wear a golden mask?”
”Yes. How'd...?”
”He keeps turning up. Must be O s.h.i.+ng's special bully boy. And I didn't come by myself. That's our army kicking a.s.s out there.”
”But.... Argon! They took me out once. I think the Fadema wanted to show me what a hick I was. Bragi, you can't get in a war with Argon. Not over me....”
”Too late to back off. The boys are probably too loaded with loot to run.” He chuckled. ”I don't want to take the city. Just the Fadem. Just to spoil whatever they're up to. I'm no conquerer.”
”Bragi, you're making a mistake....”
”Somebody coming,” Trebilc.o.c.k said. He had one ear against the door. ”Sounds like a mob.”
”Get out of sight. Aral! Your sword.”
Dantice scampered back for the weapon.
”Nepanthe, pretend we're not here. They must be coming for you. They'll want their prize counter safe. Get by the window. Make them come to you. Michael, Aral, we'll hit them from behind.”
Dantice was a street fighter. He understood. But Michael protested.
”We're here to win, Michael, not get killed honorably.”
Ragnarson concealed himself just in time. The door creaked inward. Six soldiers entered, followed by the Fadema.
”Well, Madam,” said the woman, ”your friends are more perceptive and less cautious than we antic.i.p.ated. They're here.”
”Who?” Nepanthe asked, cowering against the window frame.
”That b.l.o.o.d.y troublesome Marshall. He's attacked Argon. What gall!” She laughed.
It was forced.
Things must be going good, Bragi thought.
”You stay away,” Nepanthe told the soldiers. ”I'll jump.”
”Don't be a fool!” the Fadema snapped. ”Come. We have to move you. The tower is threatened.”
”I will jump.”
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