Part 29 (1/2)
”Come on, Gord,” the a.s.sa.s.sin wheedled. ”We've known each other for a long time. I would never set you up or even finger you. All I knew was that a mark had been set up, and that everyone would make a big score.”
”What about the murders? As a master of the council, you must have been Informed,”
Gord said as he leaned on his sword. The weapon didn't actually threaten him, but the killer knew that the -young man holding it would not hesitate to run its sharp-edged length through his gut if he thought Albin was stringing him along with lies. Albin didn't like that thought at all.
”What I said about that before is gospel, Gord. I can't tell you anything else.”
”Okay. You're lucky, old chap. I believe you so I'll allow you to live. See you around. Albin.”
”Don't leave me here tied up! They'll know when they find me. You know what'U happen then. . . .”
”Take your chances, chump. You should have 375.
thought of who you were playing with before you joined the a.s.sa.s.sination game. Bye!”150 ,.
Next came someone from the distant past. Albin had given Gord enough to enable him to find who he was looking for without any problems. As if reliving past actions.
Gord was back in the Enclave, not far from the dwelling of the dead fence, Basil.
Among the trade buildings he looked for a tall, ^rectangular one set back off the arteries, as if a storehouse. There was Just enough light from the false dawn's milky paling to discover the place desired. It was of old brick and quarried limestone. Weathered and deserted-looking.
Gord rubbed his palms together briskly and began to climb. He pressed himself against the rough surface, becoming one with the stones and bricks. Fingertips here, boot there, always three firm holds before moving upward. The roof projected about three feet from the wall. That didn't bother Gord in the least. Keeping a firm hold, he reached up and back with his right arm. His fingers felt the edge, slid around, located a rough, steady place along the edge above. He let go with his left hand and feet, swinging by one arm fifty feet above the pavement, the wind whipping his cloak in a flapping streamer, almost as if he had wings. With his left hand Gord explored until he found another secure hold. Then he pulled himself up to the steeply pitched slate roof.
Now came the most difficult part, for the slates were not firm, and he had to press flattened palms and squirm upward with shoulders, chest, belly and thighs. His feet were used more to check any slip than to propel him up the slope. Bits of slate slipped but none fell. As difficult as the last part of the climb was, Gord managed it rather quickly and without mishap.
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The slanting roof ended abruptly. It surrounded a shaft about twenty or so feet deep. Around this shaft were windows and doors. The upper two stories of the building housed a penthouse of sorts, sheltered from view. There was a little garden in the depression and Gord could hear the splash and tinkle of a fountain playing in the darkness yet unpierced by the coming sun. There was more splas.h.i.+ng, and what sounded almost like a soft hooting, several giggles, and a man's laugh. Gord didn't hesitate. Grabbing the inner edge of the roof, he somersaulted, slowing the tumble by holding on a moment, then plummeted down the remaining distance into the enclosed garden.
The soft thud of his landing and the sound of his roll and slapping contact coming erect alerted the man depositing himself in the fountain's pool. He jumped out, trying to reach his sword, the two girls with him shrieking and getting in his way as they reacted to the noise and the man's evident fear. ”Who the h.e.l.ls dares to enter here uninvited?” the man bl.u.s.tered in a deep voice as he managed to get his weapon in hand.
”I thought it acceptable to drop in on an old a.s.sociate, Sunray. ... Or do you prefer to be called Raynald these days?”
, ”Gord? How did you escape the Prae . . ..” His question died for he could think of nothing to cover the slip.
”Don't concern yourself. Sunny-boy. Lies won't save you. I know the whole rotten truth,” Gord lied. sure that Sunray would have no way of knowing any differently.
”IVe come to even the score.”
”That's a laugh, you cheap little rogue,” the tall, handsome man said without humor.
”You just got what was coming to you - or you will soon. You couldn't take me before, and you're no better now.
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You're dead If you try to get away, and if you stay I'll kill you!”
Now it was Cord's turn to mock, but his laughter was real. ”A blowhard and a braggart still, Raynald! You were a worse thief than I always. A fumble-fin-gered, blabber-mouthed egoist. Worst of all for you. Sunny-boy, you can't use a sword worth s.h.i.+t”
The taller man backed toward an open door fading into the penthouse. The doxies who had bteen entertaining him had disappeared through it as the two antagonists fenced with words. Raynald ,now seemed intent on retreating there himself.
”Running inside won't save your fat a.s.s,” Cord said, sliding forward rapidly, eyes never leaving his opponent Raynald never replied. He turned and dashed into the doorway, pulling a drape across151 the opening. Gord followed in leaps and bounds as a cat moves. With a slash of his dagger, the drapery was gone. Gord then crouched low, instinctively. A buzzing above his head made him glad he did. The crossbow bolt's wind ruffled his dark hair in pa.s.sing.
Still low, the young thief dashed inside, moving quickly to the right, for the bolt seemed to have come from the left. Such a weapon took too long to reload, and Gord knew that his enemy would be waiting with sword once again. It was a pity that the first rays of the sun were now coloring the cloud-dappled sky overhead with touches of carmine and magenta. In a minute the fiery reds and oranges of full dawn would replace the darker hues. Gord would have no advantage of magical vision in the dark.
”Now I am ready, mite, to face you on more even terms,” Raynald said as he advanced toward Gord. The taller man held his falchion and a second weapon now, a long, dark-bladed misericord as main 378.
gauche. ”You thought I'd fight unequally armed?” he demanded, using his chin to indicate Cord's own long dagger.
That moment almost did Gord in. for he was distracted by the gesture and inference of fair play. His eyes went to his dagger for a split-second, and in that time Raynald launched himself into the attack. Gord managed to catch the descending falchion in time to take nothing more than a nick. He managed to parry Raynald's dagger thrust, too. The taller man had the advantage, however, and now he pressed it, forcing Gord to back up and stay in a constant posture of defense.
”You . . . see . . . weakling . . . runt!” Raynald said as he struck with a flurry of hammering blows and backhand slashes in an attempt to beat Cord's defense down.
”I ... told . . . you ... I'd ... aackl”
Gord had slipped under a backhand sweep of the falchion and struck with his shortsword. The point stabbed into the taller man's thigh before he could step back.
There!” Gord shouted as he slashed and cut the returning right arm with his dagger.
”A double lesson for a second-rate swordsman. Now save your wind for gasping your last breath.” Just then the very tip of Raynald's poniard caught Cord's own right arm, and the scratch thus inflicted burned tike molten fire.
”A kiss in return!” the bigger man panted, with a wolfish smile and gleam of antic.i.p.ation in his eyes.
”You filth!” Gord screamed at him. ”You use venom on your dag!”
”Isn't that tough t.u.r.ds, you whining cheat! You'd have used two weapons to my one - or none, I'll wager. Now I'm the better armed, and you cry foul. Poor little Gordy,”
Sunray mocked.
The wash of anger that coursed through his body seemed to lessen the fiery numbness that filled his 379.
arm where the poisoned blade had cut it Gord allowed the rage to grow, but he checked it short of the point where it would blind him to his situation. The young thief fought carefully but fiercely, defending, countering, and slowly the feeling returned to his right arm again. ”Now, Raynald. we come to the last test!” Cord called to his opponent in cold fury, and he matched the challenge with a combination of attacks that sent the taller man back in panic. - A hit scored! Another!
”Rot you. Gord!” Raynald cried in a fury of his own. ”How do you resist the venom?”
he demanded, for both wounds he had received came from the shortsword wielded by Cord's poison-touched right arm.
”My anger, you vile snake, countered your rotten venom. The blood flows freely and cleanses the wound.” Even as he gave his enemy the truth. Gord laid to with blinding speed and power, sending the falchion flying as his shortsword slashed Sunray's arm in the process. Closing as quickly, Gord pinned the man's poisoned dagger with his own while he pressed his sword to Raynald's belly.
”Spare me.” the taller man pleaded.
”Why? You would not have granted me mercy!”
”Because I can tell you the whole plot!”
”I told you, scoundrel, I already know everything there is to know.”
The man Gord had once known as Sunray nearly whined in his eagerness to save his life. ”Not quite everything, I'm sure. There's no way you could know everything. I'm152 an a.s.sa.s.sin now, you know.” he hurried to explain before Gord cut him off - literally! ”And because of that I'm privy to everything. If you grant me my life, I'll tell you all. Look. Cord, IVe even got secret papers hidden ...” As he said this Raynald made a move toward something.
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