Part 27 (1/2)
Surprise lit their faces.
Duncan eased the tickler, sending the first bolt at the Taal's broad back. Thunk! The second crossbow kicked high, taking a man in the throat. A gurgled scream filled the room. Empty crossbows clattered to the floor. Shouts erupted from the guards as they pushed back from the table, scrambling for their swords. Mara was ready, handing him another crossbow. Thunk, he got the shot off and grabbed the last bow. Three guards rushed the doorway, their swords glinting in the torchlight. The crossbow bucked, taking the closest man in the face. Thunk, the force of the blow flung the body backwards into the remaining two guards. Brains and blood splattered the room. Duncan hurled the empty crossbow at the guards and unsheathed his sword, charging the tangle of men. He hacked at an arm, releasing a fountain of blood...but his sword stuck in bone, refusing to move.
A blade slashed towards his face.
Unarmed, Duncan ducked sideways, but the sword chased his face. Raising his arm to block the blow, he braced for pain but the sword clanged against iron; the chain of the shackle saved his life. Twisting away, he reached for a dropped sword, aiming a slas.h.i.+ng cut at his opponent's legs, but the guard was too quick, parrying the blow. Steel clashed against steel. The guard drove him back into a corner. Hack and slash, Duncan retreated, taking cuts to his arm and across his chest, paying for his lack of skill. The guard laughed like a berserker, wielding his sword with brutal strength. Duncan parried a stroke to his face...but the sword twisted out of his hands, clattering across the floor.
Disarmed, he scrambled backwards, drawing a dagger from his belt.
Laughing, the guard pressed the attack, poised for the killing stroke...but then he staggered to a stop, his eyes wide with shock. Roaring in pain, he turned away, as if seeking a different threat. Duncan lunged forward, skewering the guard under his left armpit. The dagger bit deep, thrust all the way to the hilt. Shuddering, the guard groaned and slid to the floor.
Mara stood over him, holding a b.l.o.o.d.y dagger. She fell on the guard; hacking and slas.h.i.+ng, blood coating her hands like gloves, her face contorted in a fit of rage.
Duncan gripped her arm, taking the dagger from her hand. ”He's dead.”
She shuddered, her eyes glazed with hatred. ”He deserves more than death.”
He wiped the blood from her face, wis.h.i.+ng he could ease the hatred in her eyes. ”He's dead, you've killed him...and you saved my life.”
Mara gazed up at him, her face solemn.
Just for a moment, she looked like Kath. ”There's strength behind your eyes...like another woman I know.” He helped her to her feet, brus.h.i.+ng a strand of hair from her face. ”Like a hidden dagger poised at the Mordant's back, you women find a way to tip the balance.” He reversed the dagger and handed it back to her. ”Keep your blade sharp.”
She accepted the dagger and smiled, a mixture of pride and determination.
”We've won a small victory but we dare not tarry. Close the door and bring the crossbows to me.” She sprang to life, rus.h.i.+ng to the door. The room was awash in carnage, the smell of blood thick in the air. Duncan sheathed his sword and reached for the nearest crossbow. He c.o.c.ked the string and loaded a quarrel, arming all four bows. Handing two to Mara, he crossed the room to the table. The big Taal lay slumped in a pool of blood, a fist-sized hole punched through his back. Even a Taal could not survive such a wound. He rolled the body from the chair and took the ring of keys from the belt. Holding the keys aloft, he flashed a smile at Mara. ”Time to gain some allies.”
Mara returned his smile, her left hand sketching a strange sign.
Armed with two crossbows, he eased the door open. The corridor stood empty, but a loud clamor echoed from the direction of the winch chamber. Perhaps the guards fought the fire. He flicked a glance at Mara. ”Hurry.” They raced down the corridor, pa.s.sing one door and stopping at the next. He kicked the door open, holding a crossbow in each fist. A single guard sat on a stool. Thunk, the quarrel took him the chest, a look of surprise frozen on his face.
A terrible reek rose from two iron grates set in the floor, the stench of unwashed bodies and overflowing p.i.s.s-buckets. Duncan gagged. He shuddered, wondering how he'd ever grown accustomed to the stench of captivity.
Dropping the crossbows, he knelt by the first grate, trying the keys from the ring. The third key worked. Ripping the grate open, he yelled into the hold, ”Rise up and fight, you're free men!” He thrust a ladder down and then raced to the next grate. By the time the second grate clanged open, men were staggering up out of the first hold. Filthy and bedraggled, they milled around the chamber as if dazed. Most looked defeated, lash-marks striping their backs, but a few still had the spark of anger in their eyes.
Duncan leaped onto a wooden stool and raised his voice to a shout. ”Hear me!” A hundred faces turned his way. He raised his arms, displaying his broken shackles like trophies of war. ”Chains can be broken. Guards can be killed. The men of the mines are rising! This is your chance. Find weapons, kill the guards, and release every prisoner. We take the mine and then the Pit.”
A few men cheered but most gawked as if he'd grown a second head.
Unsheathing his sword, he raised it high, the steel blade glittering in the torchlight. ”This is your chance. Claim a sword and be men once more!”
A dozen roared their approval, pumping their fists in agreement, but the others just stared, cowed by captivity.
Duncan pointed to a big man in front, a giant with a wild shock of flaming-red hair. The mark of the Pit dominated his face, a third eye in the middle of his forehead. ”You, what's your name?”
”Krell Three-eye.”
”Will you fight with me, Krell?”
”Aye, with my bare hands if needs be!”
Others began to shout, ”I'll fight! Give me a sword!”
Duncan kept his gaze on Krell. ”Pick a dozen of the best fighters.” As the big man began choosing, Duncan tried once more to rouse the others, raising his voice above the murmur of talk. ”Time is against us. We have this one chance to escape the doom of the mine. The choice is simple. Fight to live or cower and die.” Too many hung their heads like whipped curs, their souls shriveled by slavery, but Duncan had no more patience for the timid and the meek.
Turning his back on the others, he joined Krell and his men. The big man grinned a gap-toothed smile. ”I've got your dozen.” Raising fists as big as hammers, Krell cracked his knuckles, a ruthless grin on his freckled face. ”We're ready to break heads.”
Duncan grinned, liking the big man's bravado. ”I've friends rising in the depths of the mine. I need men willing to go deep, to take the guards from behind and crush them between us.” He stared at the men, noting the anger smoldering behind their eyes. ”Are you with me?”
A chorus of 'ayes' answered his question. Krell had chosen well.
”First we get weapons, then we fight.” Duncan handed a crossbow to one of the men. ”Follow me.”
Mara waited by the door, her back to the wall, clutching a crossbow as if she wasn't sure who to trust.
Duncan gripped her arm, flas.h.i.+ng a rea.s.suring smile. ”We've gained allies.” He eased the extra crossbow from her shoulder and gave it to one of the men. ”Come.”
The corridor rang with distant shouts. Duncan's senses p.r.i.c.ked with warning. Gripping the crossbow, he set off at a run, leading the men back to the guardroom. Shouldering the door open, he was relieved to find the b.l.o.o.d.y carnage undisturbed. ”Choose your weapons.” The men poured into the room, pillaging the dead for swords, daggers, and whips. A few struggled to strip boots and leather jerkins from the corpses. Krell wrestled the boots from the Taal, grinning when they fit.
Duncan kept watch at the door, anxious to be gone. ”Krell, which of these men do you trust with your life?”
Krell pointed to a dark-skinned man with scars crisscrossing his face. ”Naga is a good man. I'd trust my back to him.”
Duncan nodded. ”Naga, to me.”
The dark-skinned man belted a sword to his waist and then joined Duncan, bowing his head in deference. ”M'Lord.”
”I'm not a lord.”
Naga gave him a broad smile. ”A man who frees other men from the heart of evil must truly be a lord.”
Duncan shook his head, impatient with the banter. He gestured to Mara. ”This is Mara. Every man here owes his freedom to her. Guard her close and see that she escapes unharmed.”
Naga grinned, thumping his chest with his fist.
Mara gasped. ”You're leaving me?”
He gave her a soft smile. ”You've already saved my life once. I won't have your blood on my hands.”
”But I can help...”
”...by leaving the mine.” He met her gaze. ”If we take the mine then we must also take the Pit. It's all or nothing, victory or death.” Her face paled but her stare never wavered. ”If you want to help, then seek out the leaders of the Pit and tell them what we do here. If we win the mine, we'll need their help.”
”Spread the Light.” She nodded, her face solemn. ”I can do that.”
”Then hurry, before the jaws of death snap shut around us.” He stared at Naga. ”Go.”