Banners of The Sa'yen, page 13
“Fidor! Quickly, find four good men. Good swordsmen! We must hurry to the shop of Fadah the Armorer as quickly as possible.”
“Aye, Magdar!” Fidor nodded, stepping forward and sliding down the ladder to the main deck swiftly.
I hurried down the open hatch and stepped to the cabin door of Tallsus, the lover of the woman that was Fadah’s great-granddaughter.
’Tallsus! Tallsus! Awake and come to the deck at once!”
Tallsus opened his cabin door, pulling his trousers up at the same time. There was sleep in his eyes and his hair was a ragged mop, and I had to smile at his wild, unkempt look. But I grabbed nun by an arm and almost dragged him to the poop deck.
“Tallsus! I and Fidor and a few men are hurrying to Fadah’s shop to rescue the Charolarl Priest we met at the inn a few weeks ago!”
“What? Jamilia! What of Jamilia! Tallsus shouted, fear coming into his eyes as we stepped out onto the poop deck of the small black-hull.
“She is safe, my friend!” I lied, for I knew nothing yet of her fate. “But you stay here and we’ll return shortly with them all! Arouse the crew and be prepared to cast off the moment we return. Bahir Kandar will want our hides if we pluck the priest from his grasp a second time!”
“Where is the Lord, Magdar?” Tallsus uttered, looking around and confused in his actions still.
“He is below. He yet sleeps, as He should! There is no need to arouse Him now. If we hurry, we may yet remove the priest, Jamilia, and Fadah from the hands of Bahir Kandaris agents before they arrive. Give us until the beginning of the Virgin’s Watch before you tell the Lord anything, Tallsus! If we have not returned by then, it will be too late. But do not fear! All will be well! But you must stay and prepare the ship to flee. Load cannon and run them out. We may yet have a glorious fight before the day ends!”
And I found myself grinning with delight at the thought of a fight I am, basically, a warrior, and little of anything I fear. I may sing and lust while cooling my heels in a port, but at heart I prefer a good fight and stiff danger to nothing at all. I am a poor man for this, I know. And foolishly, I shall never change. That is the way of the Ha’valli—the tribe of my ancestors.
I shook Tallsus firmly by one arm and smiled into his face. He watched me with a long, worried face as I jumped from the poop deck to the main deck and waved to Fidor and his four stout-looking men to follow me. We six quickly descended the gangplank from the ship and entered the tall, common landing tower the Black Falcon was moored to. Hurrying down the spiraling stairs, with four of the men holding above our heads brightly burning torches, we descended the tower and stepped out into the dark streets of the city.
The street below the tower was empty. Not a soul could be seen where thousands had milled only hours before. It was an unnerving sight to see the street empty of the Sa’yen’s followers, and I saw the looks of surprise and fear come into the faces of the four warriors chosen by Fidor. I did not halt long enough for the fears of the men to subdue them and the absence of the Lord’s followers to work upon their minds. Motioning for them to follow me, I quickly began hurrying through the dark and deserted streets of Triisus to Fadah’s shop on the Street of Armorers in the heart of the city.
Twice we stopped to catch our breath, and on each occasion I thought my ears heard the sounds of steel scraping against stone behind us. We were being followed! I held no doubts for I had expected it from the moment we left the Black Falcon. Hurrying on, the long, heavy-looking blade old Fadah had given me in my grasp, I expected at the opening of each alley we came upon to be assailed by lurking assassins. We moved rapidly through the street, with the men behind me heavily armed and clutching gleaming weapons in their hands as well. That we were not jumped worried me more than if we had been, but I did not allow my fears to keep me from hurrying through the narrow streets and reaching at last the Street of the Armorers. Coming to the mouth of the street that opened onto the wide Avenue of Thieves, I raised a hand and the men halted behind me. The Street of the Armorers is a narrow, cobblestone one that leads away from the Avenue of Thieves and ends only three blocks away at the stone wall of a huge landing tower owned by the noble House of Mykar. For a thousand feet this landing tower rose above our heads. By a bright full moon that regularly was shielded from our view by angry, fast moving clouds which were hurried on by die growing wind of an approaching storm, we could see several large skyships moored to the tower’s landing balconies. The Avenue of Thieves is a wide thoroughfare that runs like a lance from one end of the city to the other and, for the most part, is lined by the estates of nobility. But in the heart of the city, where we were now, several ancient streets and the oldest part of the city lines its sides. The Street of Armorers is one, and as I stepped around the comer of a large warehouse, I found myself peering down a narrow, dark street of stone warehouses and shops draped in evil-looking shadows. The “shadows created by the clouds moving across the face of the moon seemed a bizarre, unnerving sea of phantoms dancing, whirling on the walls of the buildings and the street itself. The wind was nearly at the stage of a tempest, and the heavy cloak I wore snapped in the wind angrily. Gripping my sword firmly, I stepped into the middle of the narrow street of shadows and motioned for the men to follow me. With the wind howling in our ears and the clouds above us fleeing across the full moon, the five men followed me up the Street of Armorers, swords drawn and determined, hard looks upon their faces.
Halfway up the dark, threatening street the long, piercing scream of a terrified woman came to our ears. I waved to the men to hurry, and then I broke into a fast run headlong up the narrow, blackened street. The woman screamed again, a high, dreadful sound that almost froze the determination in our hearts, but then the crashing sound of tables and furniture being smashed and broken came to us in the wind. I started to move on, certain that the troops from the House of Kandar were tearing the shop of old Fadah to pieces. But suddenly torches lit the street ahead of us immediately in front of Fadah’s shop, and we saw many aimed warriors in the livery of the House of Kandar dragging the struggling form of a woman from within the shop. There was no doubt within me as to who it was. The fiancée of Tallsus. Jamilia! Anger intense and supreme flushed through my body, and I turned and hurriedly whispered orders to Fidor and the men behind me. Quickly and silently the five mm disappeared into the shadows close to the walls on either side of the street, leaving me alone facing the armed warriors of the House of Kandar. A smile played across my lips as I gripped my sword and began moving slowly down the street toward the armed warriors. Only a few steps had I moved when one of the warriors in front of me held up a torch and yelled out a challenge.
“Who slinks about on a night like a thief? Halt and identify yourself, warrior?
“I seek Fadah the Armorer and his granddaughter Jamilia. Is this the old man’s shop?”
“Aye. That is, it was, warrior. Step forward and let Thordak, the Captain of the guards, look upon your face!”
Thordak! The Captain of the Household Guards of Kandar commanded these looting troops! Smiling even more in pleasure at a good fight soon to begin, I stepped boldly into die light of the torch the warrior held above his head. One look at me and I saw he recognized me. Turning, he yelled for his captain to come and look at what had crawled out from die shadows like an insect Among the fifteen or twenty of his kind, this warrior from the House of Kandar felt safe. Safe enough to be arrogant and cruel. The House of Kandar Troops moved to surround me, nevertheless giving me a large space when they saw the cold steel I held in my hand. I smiled at their arrogance tempered with caution as they surrounded me, holding my smile even though the struggling figure of Jamilia, held in the merciless grip of two burly Kandarian warriors, appeared before me. The boyish face of Jamilia, wild fear in her brown eyes, looked upon me from between her two captors and she ceased struggling. Her red lips parted in surprise and terror at seeing me but she said nothing. The many warriors around me were talking and pointing at her, their voices and their words none too pleasant to listen to. Evidently, from bearing what they had to say, Thordak had generously given Jamilia to the troops to use as they saw fit, and they were eager to see what pleasures she had to offer. Their talk was rough, obscene, and I seethed in fury at the degradation they had subjected her to. But I kept my anger in control and was soon rewarded by the appearance of Thordak himself as he stepped through the crowd of his troops and faced me.
“You! Dog of a whore! What has your master done with that old fool called Fadah the Armorer?” Thordak hissed in a deep, coarse whisper of hatred and dripping evil.
I was surprised at the voice that spoke to me. Once a powerful, booming voice of vibrant strength and clarity, a voice that made many a man quiver in fear and terror when it spoke to them, it was now nothing but a vague shell, a menacing shadow of a whisper of what it once was. Yet, hearing it, I could fed the tendrils of undeniable evil and strength hiss from it, and as I looked upon the twisted, scarred face of the man, I knew that in his heart was nothing but an evil, cruel monster filled with hatred at what had happened to him. I looked at his neck and saw for myself the pink scar of where the Master had run His sword through the throat of this man and it pleased me. Pleased me so much that I lifted my head a little and laughed carelessly into the face of the wide-shouldered, strongly built warrior in front of me.
“Ah, Thordak! My Master sends you greetings and salutations. He bids me to inquire about your wound. He wishes to know if you would like a surgeon to look at the wound, hearing that you had been misguided and sent to have a butcher from the Street of Meat Cleavers to sew you up."
I heard his men gasp in surprise, mingled with sharp cries of rage, at my words to their captain. I saw the color in Thordak’s face drain and watched his hands ball into fists as he stepped closer to me.
“You will die for that, son of a dog! Die a thousand deaths before your soul leaves you this night! And I will be the one that makes sure that you die properly. Seize him and bring him along with us!”
“And when did the noble Thordak and his even more noble master, Bahir Kandar, begin stealing through the night like common criminals to seize defenseless women from their beds? 1 did not know that Thordak and his master were the ones who stole women in the middle of the night for their pleasure,” I shouted before hands could be laid upon me.
“This female is a traitor to the city of Triisus, you dog!” Thordak hissed, pointing to Jamilia with one finger and shaking a fist at me with the other. “As apparently you are tool In league with that heretic Charolarl Priest that seeks to hand the city of Triisus into the clutches of the Hakadians. Well, tonight we shall eliminate two traitors from our midst. And as soon as we find that weak-willed, cowardly priest and the old fool of an armorer, two more traitors will die as well.”
“This woman, a mere girl, is a danger to our fair city? Thordak! Never did I figure that you were a comedian! Ah, but how you make me laugh!”
And again I lifted my head and started laughing with a casual ease I knew would infuriate the proud, arrogant warrior in front of me. And I succeeded in making file deadly man before me throw away all restraints! Jumping back with startling speed, Thordak unsheathed his long rapier and stepped in to attack with death in his eyes. In the torchlight, file exposed blades looked deadly, as if they thirsted for blood as I parried several vicious thrusts. The men around us held their torches up high so that their captain could see better. And in their faces I saw they had no worries that the famous Thordak, file most feared blade in Triisus, would not eliminate me shortly. I smiled, parried another fierce thrust, and laughed into the scowling man’s face.
“Thordak! Are you playing? Or is this the best you can do? My goodness! I thought you were a swordsman! Perhaps I am wrong, eh?”
The wide-shouldered, arrogant Captain of the Kandar Troops spit out a snail of rage and leaped in at me again with another fierce attack. My sword, the gift of old Fadah, danced in my hand with wicked delight. My blade parried each thrust with ease, the sound of steel true and clear to our ears. Circling, I saw large beads of sweat rolling down the warrior’s face and his breathing was labored. I saw looks of concern on the faces of a few of his men, and even Jamilia, innocent and sweet face that it was, seemed startled that I had stood up before the famous Thordak and survived so long. It pleased me to see that all of his men had gathered around in a large circle to witness my demise. I knew that in a few short seconds Fidor and my men would create havoc when they suddenly attacked from the depths of the shadows, allowing us to escape. All I had to do was stay alive just a few seconds longer. Lifting my sword, I saluted the assassin in the pay of Bahir Kandar and smiled easily. The sword in my hand felt light and comfortable to me, as if it was part of me. I was both confident and surprised. Confident that I could indeed survive this match with such a renowned warrior and surprised that Thordak was hardly the deadly swordsman he was reputed to be. Easily sidestepping a slashing blow, I lifted the point of my sword and ran it across the exposed portion of his left arm. A long, thin line of blood leaped to our eyes and the warrior jumped back, wincing in sudden pain. Some of his men shouted in surprise and rage, and I smiled and lowered my sword’s point.
“Ah, Thordak! You disappoint me! And I had looked to have such a hard-fought battle with you, too! Be that as it may, if you and your men will drop your weapons to the street and release the woman yonder, I will yet allow you to withdraw from the field with your lives.”
“Our lives!” the tall man shouted, hatred and rage dripping from his voice. “Why, you incipient fool! Do you think you will walk away from this alive? Look around you! You are surrounded!”
“And you, my dear Thordak, are no swordsman,” I replied calmly, brushing his words aside with a bored wave of my hand. “I suggest you take up another profession. Perhaps a weaver of baskets or a spinner of cloth, eh?”
For my answer came a scream of rage, and the warrior leaped to the attack with such a fierceness that for a few moments I was hard pressed to keep his sword from laying me low. But the sword in my hand was like a living being. It danced and leaped to my defense with an ease and swiftness that was amazing to observe. And then, as if with its own power, die sword given to me by the old armorer Fadah slipped through die web of steel of Thordak’s defense and knifed through the heavy chain mail the warrior wore under his livery and sunk to the hilt into his chest His men gasped at seeing their leader mortally wounded, and as Thordak’s lifeless hand dropped the sword, from the shadows around us came an unholy roar as my men attacked like frenzied demons of the night
Confusion reigned immediately. Surprised, the men who had been with Thordak and who were now leaderless turned to meet the attack as individuals and not as a trained body of men. In the melee that followed, my sword crossed steel twice and left two more bodies behind me. Men all around me, both those of the House of Kan-dar and my own, were shouting and bleeding. The clash of steel created a stupendous din in the dead-end street. I was positive all the city would hear our melee and be aroused from their deepest slumbers. With the flat of my blade I knocked cold one of the men who was grasping the young girl’s wrist, parried the thrust of her other captor and nicked him a severe cut on his cheek. The man dropped his sword, turned and ran for his life. I grabbed her wrist, smiled and bent down to yell in her ear.
“We meet again, young woman) A pleasant surprise!”
“A timely surprise, Left Hand of the Lord!” she yelled back, putting both of her delicate white hands on my arm and tilting her head up to look into my eyes. “Most happy am I to see you!”
I nodded, turned and dealt with another warrior in the livery of the House of Kandar, placing the beloved of Tallsus, our ship’s gunner, behind my back for safety. The warrior sunk to the cobblestone street with a wound in his sword arm, making him useless. I took the delicate wrist of Jamilia in one hand and began fighting my way through the crowd, shouting to my men to rally around me so that we could fight our way out of the street. Fidor was soon at my side, and I was pleased to see that all of the men the dour-faced bull of a man had selected were still with us and still capable of fighting. In a few short seconds we were clear of the men opposing us and we quickly hurried from the Street of Armorers and entered the Avenue of Thieves with none of the survivors of Thordak’s troops following us. Moving swiftly, yet not running, I told Fidor to keep the men together in a tight group, weapons drawn and ready, in case we were attacked again. I then bent to the hurrying figure of the girl beside me and asked her about her grandfather.
“I have no idea, Left Hand of the Lord. He left just after the stroke of midnight in the company of a strange priest, and I have not seen him since. I am afraid something has happened to him.”
“Left with a strange priest, you say? A Charolarl Priest, perhaps? A young one with a hook nose and long brown hair?”
“The one exactly! Magdar! Is my grandfather to be harmed?”
“Eh? Not by the priest, methinks, sweet child,” I growled, turning swiftly up a side street that twisted and turned in the direction I desired. ‘The priest is a Charolarl, girl. Their kind do not harm innocent people such as your grandfather. But why would the priest want to see old Fadah?”
“I heard them talking in low voices down in the main part of the shop. The priest had come seeking information about the Ancient Kings. Somehow the robed figure had heard that my grandfather possessed articles once owned by the Ancient Kings. I know not how, but peeking through the beads that separate the shop from the rest of the house, I could see that grandfather was very surprised the young priest knew his secret.”
