Part 13 (1/2)

The remaining six men slept under tables in the common room, in their armor with weapons beside them. William had managed to sleep in armor a time or two during training, but reckoned he would never get the knack of it, or have to be a great deal more tired than he had been when he last tried it.

He sat at the table where they had dined the day before, too keyed up even to contemplate sleeping. He lost track of time, turning over the day's events in his mind a hundred times. He knew he could not have handled things better, yet felt as if he had somehow failed in his duty. A n.o.ble of a neighboring nation lay abed upstairs at grave risk, men had died, and he had barely avoided losing everything. He was certain Captain Treggar would have something to say to him.

His mind wandered and he started to doze where he sat when a movement beside him caused him to start awake. It was the man Sidi, who said, ”I didn't mean to disturb you, lieutenant.”

”That's all right. I need to stay alert.”

”If they come, it will be soon. Dawn is but two hours away.”

The stranger was correct. Just before dawn was when men were the most sluggish and most commanders took advantage of that knowledge when they could.

William studied the strange man in the gloom, the room's darkness cut by only one small candle. ”What do you do, if I may ask?”

”I live in a small village inland from the town of Halden Head, up near Widow's Point.”

William knew of the area, though he had only traveled through there once. ”Rough country.”

”It can be, but it suits my needs.”

”And they would be?”

The man shrugged. ”I trade. Items, gems, rare minerals, sometimes knowledge. There are men and other creatures, goblins and trolls, who are willing to sell me things in exchange for other goods I have.”

William said sharply, ”You wouldn't be running weapons, would you?”

Sidi said, ”I have other items trolls and goblins value.

One does not have to deal in contraband to trade with them.”

William sighed. ”I'm sorry to be so distrustful, but under the circ.u.mstances . . .”

”I understand. I was eating with the man who attacked your party. I do dabble in trade that many would look upon with suspicion.”

William stared at the door as if expecting someone to break in any instant. ”Are they coming?” he asked absently.

Sidi said, ”We shall know shortly.”

They waited in silence.

Minutes dragged by, then one of the sentries said, ”Lieutenant!”

”What?” asked William, standing up and drawing his sword.

”Movement, outside,” said the guard.

William listened. For moments he couldn't hear any sounds out of the ordinary, then he heard it. Someone or something was creeping around the inn, probably inspecting the windows.

Abruptly, the sound of running feet came from outside, then the door exploded inward with a loud crash. There was no need to shout alarm, as men rolled out from under the tables beneath which they had slept, weapons in hand.

Four men had used a large log as a ram, and dropped it as they surged forward. Weaponless, they hurled themselves at William, Sidi and two other sentries, allowing four armed men behind them to enter the room.

William kicked an attacker in the groin and cut the man behind him as he turned toward Sidi. Sidi brandished a dagger and was facing down a man who was in the process of drawing out a curved sword.

Noise from upstairs told William that Matthews was securing the duke's room and getting ready for the two who were now rus.h.i.+ng up the stairs.

The armed men proved to be far more difficult foes than the four who had first come through the door. William's men had disposed of the latter quickly, but the armed men were advancing warily.

Each attacker was attired in black, with a loose head-covering that left only the eyes exposed. They wore baggy pants that were gathered at the ankle, tucked into low black boots. Their black s.h.i.+rts were tightly fastened at the neck and wrists, and their weapons had all been blackened. William shouted, ”Clear the door in case there are archers outside!”

The man facing William lashed out with his curved blade, and William took it on his own two-handed sword. The clang of metal upon metal rang out all over the room. His attacker slashed from the other side and William realized he was being measured. William intentionally let his guard lower, antic.i.p.ating that when the third testing blow came, it would be followed by a furious slash that was intended to cut above his blade and take him across the chest.

Instead the man's eyes widened in shock as William's swordpoint took him in the chest. Early on in his training William had realized that most swordsmen consider the longsword a slas.h.i.+ng weapon and don't antic.i.p.ate the danger from the point. He had developed that skill as much as possible, often using the sword as other men used the broadsword or rapier. As more than one instructor had said, the slash wounds, but the thrust kills.

The fallen man had barely hit the floor when William saw two men in black hurrying up the stairs. He sped after them, and found them struggling with Matthews and two guardsmen.

William felled one from behind, while the other killed the soldier next to Matthews.

Matthews managed to cut the attacker, who ignored any pain and spun to push the sergeant into William. Tangled for a moment, they saw the man hurl himself against the door to the duke's room.

The door crashed inward, causing splinters to fly through the air like tiny missiles. A scream sounded from the room next to the duke's.

”The Princess!” William shouted to Matthews as he half-pushed, half-pointed the sergeant toward the duke's room. William raised his foot and kicked hard against the door to Paulina's room. The shock ran straight up his leg to his hip, but the door gave way, swinging inward.

Paulina sat cowering in the corner, her fists before her face as the wooden shutters of her window splintered and fell away. Another black-clad warrior was entering from outside. William raced forward, holding his sword with both hands, leveled like a lance.

The man died soundlessly.

William knelt next to the Princess, who looked at him in horror. ”Are you all right?” he shouted, as if his loud voice might reach past the fear.

She stared at him and shook her head slightly. He took that to mean she was unhurt. Without any idea how things fared in the rest of the inn, he could only say, ”Don't move. Stay right here until someone comes to fetch you.”

He hurried next door to find Vladic, Kazamir and Matthews standing over two dead a.s.sa.s.sins. The duke lay half-conscious, staring up at his son and nephew, as if confused as to who they were.

Seeing no immediate danger, William said, ”Sergeant, come with me.”

They hurried down the stairs and found three guardsmen lying dead on the floor, with five black-dad warriors stretched out beside them. Sounds of struggle came from the kitchen and William said, ”Sergeant, guard the stairs,” and he raced into the kitchen.

Dead bodies littered the floor, among them the innkeeper, his wife, and the serving girl. Two soldiers, obviously wounded, had one last invader cornered. He stood with his back to the wall, a curved sword in his right hand, a dagger in his left. ”Keep him alive!” shouted William.

Seeing no escape, the man reached up with the dagger and with one quick motion cut his own throat.

The two soldiers and William stepped back, astonished at the act. William hesitated, then knelt next to the man. His eyes were staring upward, and what life in them fled in moments as the blood gushed from his neck.

”Fanatics!” said one of the soldiers, holding his sword in his left hand while his right hung limply.

William sat back on his heels. ”Yes, fanatics,” he said.

The other solder, holding his bleeding side with a bleeding hand said, ”Lieutenant, what were they? Nighthawks?”