“What are you going to do about my brother’s stall?” bellowed a deep voice.
Kerian rolled his eyes to the heavens, annoyed at the interruption and spun around on his toes, his staff whipping around, whistling through the air, intending to smack whoever this was around the head and silence his queries. Instead, it cracked soundly off a heavily muscled torso level with Kerian’s face and then splintered apart. Kerian looked up in shock to face a large bald man with arms wider across than Kerian’s legs!
“By Adden!” Kerian swore under his breath. The man facing him was taller than Rauph the minotaur! “Look let me just deal with this small matter and I will come back and…”
The floor disappeared from under his feet as Kerian was hoisted into the air by his tunic, skin pinching stitching stretching under the incredible strength of the man lifting him bodily from the floor.
“I take it you would like me to reconsider my order of priorities?” Kerian asked meekly before he found himself flying backwards out of the alleyway and straight into the bustling marketplace. He found himself skittering on the cobblestones, trying to stop his relentless backpedalling but the man holding him was refusing to let go. They crashed into a stall and Kerian’s view was momentarily obscured by a cascading waterfall of over ripe oranges, vibrant lemons, purple kale and miniature green skinned pineapples. His breath crashed out of him as he landed, causing Kerian to open his mouth in shock, only for a stray strawberry to drop in the presented opening and choke him worse than the hulking brute attacking him.
Kerian struggled to see his foe through the tumbling citrus avalanche and lashed out blindly, punching several innocent bystanders before landing a good blow right on the end of his foe’s large nose. It cracked as the blow landed, warm blood jetting from the man’s face. Kerian twisted and turned like a wild thing as the stall creaked and groaned ominously beneath him, then it snapped in two, dropping him and his assailant to the floor in another explosion of free-falling vegetables. The brute loosened his grip at the shock of the drop and Kerian saw the opportunity, smashing his fist into the man’s nose once more before trying to slip out from underneath him. Huge hands latched on as Kerian struggled. Several more stitches tore free and Kerian felt the front of his tunic come loose as the man lost his grip.
He slid through the crushed fruits beneath him, quickly rolling under a stall selling plants and cut flowers, coming out the far side with wilted daises hanging forlornly in his hair before ducking under a fishmonger’s stall. Kerian crawled as quickly as his knees permitted, banging his shield along the underside of the stalls, making the fish jump and slither across the table top above him as if they had suddenly come back to life. He frantically scrambled away, determined to put as much space between himself and his pursuer as possible, barely avoiding the feet of the people scurrying around him.
An ear-piercing scream bellowed through the square, causing Kerian to pause in his crawling, wondering whatever this new problem was but before he could investigate something latched onto his ankle and dragged him back out into the open. He turned to find himself facing the burly shape of the second thug from the alley, clearly the guard’s associate intended that Kerian not escape the clutches of the giant menace currently wrecking a rug merchant’s stall looking for his elusive target.
“He’s over here!” The man yelled, holding tightly to Kerian’s leg and smiling as the enraged giant stopped his unruly carpet destruction and spun towards the shout.
Kerian did not hesitate, spinning over onto his back and kicking out hard with his right boot connecting just above the brute’s knee. The joint popped with a sound like pulling a leg off a roast chicken and the man buckled to the ground in agony.
Kerian leapt to his feet, snatching a cooking pot off a stall and swung it with all his might, crashing the metal container into the side of the ruffian’s head with a resounding clang. The man sank to the floor not sure if he should hold his head or his knee. Another blood-curdling scream sounded from back towards the alley, freezing the shoppers in the market who now realised something was very wrong. Fearing the worst, Kerian snatched the nearest thing to hand, cursing his lack of a weapon and ran to assist, only to find his huge adversary lumbering into his path once again.
“I shall make you pay for what you have done to my brother’s stall.” He roared, waving a wickedly curved blade in Kerian’s direction.
“I really don’t have time for this.” Kerian muttered, bringing up the weapon he had blindly snatched from the stall to parry the attack, before looking on in dismay at the realisation he actually held a long stick of bread in his hand. This was not the item he had hoped for. Indeed, he would have considered anything else but the floury item he now held.
The hulk’s blade flashed in the sunlight and Kerian’s trusty stick shortened by six inches. The return swing shortening it by a similar amount as Kerian lunged forwards and watched the bread bend in his hand as he attempted to stab his assailant with what little remained. A backhand from the large figure wiped the look of dismay from Kerian’s face and sent him flying into a group of onlookers, knocking several to the floor as stars filled his vision.
“I’m really sorry.” He gasped, trying to stand and finding himself struggling to place his hands on something sturdy enough to support him. Instead, he found himself in the embarrassing position of pushing off a most indignant heavily endowed woman’s posterior and dodging her deadly swipes with her shopping bag.
“Oh I really, really am sorry!” Kerian blustered, ducking again as the shopping bag whistled through the air where his head had just been. He struggled to untangle himself from the innocent shoppers with minimal damage only to find his neck grabbed once more by the hulking individual still roaring his demand for payment for his brother’s damaged stall.
“Call the guards.” Someone screamed.
“There’s a wild animal loose.” Yelled another onlooker, pointing dramatically back towards the alleyway. Kerian struggled to turn his head and see what the man was pointing at then realised to his horror he was being barrelled straight into a butcher’s stall. He closed his eyes as he crashed into the display of chops, offal and ribs. The butcher chopping up a chicken for a waiting customer dropped his cleaver in shock and it landed straight across the splayed fingers of the brute pinning Kerian to the stall.
There was a startled scream as the man’s index finger came away, blood jetting out across the meat on the stall. He straightened up in shock, grabbing his wounded hand and releasing the pressure on his captive. The uppercut Kerian delivered was fast and brutal, rocking the bald man’s head back and setting him up on his heels. Kerian followed with another blow to the chin and then as the hulk staggered away, scrabbled up onto the butcher’s counter and threw himself bodily at the man as he turned away, his arm wrapping tightly around the titan in an attempt to put him in a sleeper hold.
The reaction was instant, violent jerking and swinging, with Kerian’s legs flying out behind him crashing off onlooker’s heads, catching further stalls and creating yet more havoc. Pots crashed to the ground, fish slithered off plates, chickens escaped from crates running amok and causing further chaos. People ran screaming in every direction, whilst others chose to watch the epic battle going on before them, throwing coins thinking it was impromptu street entertainment.
Slowly but surely, Kerian’s grip across his foe’s windpipe began to win through. The man started turning crimson, sweat beading across his brow as he frantically attempted to tear Kerian from his back. Despite the weakening swipes, the man was still a force to be reckoned with. He staggered backwards smashing into some large vases, sending them to the floor, then turned another way crashing Kerian into a large pile of carpets, that sent a cloud of dust and assorted bugs up into the air all over the two wrestling men. Kerian wheezed and spluttered but refused to let go as his foe’s actions continued to slow.
There was a final groan as the man finally dropped onto his knees, gasping and weakly
clawing at his throat. Kerian squeezed harder, just to be sure and felt the titan go limp beneath him. Somehow, his attacker looked less threatening with his eyes closed, like a giant baby sleeping quietly, with all the energy taken out of him. Kerian staggered away, turning to take in the angry faces of the crowd, holding his hands up, trying to appear unthreatening and ward off any further attacks.
“Look I am really, really sorry about all of this.” He confessed. “I never meant for any of this to happen.” Over the heads of the people gathered around him, he could see the approach of several town guards. It was time to go.
Kerian turned, taking a step away from his foe, only to feel the man’s hand crash down upon his neck once more, yanking him back and pulling tight. Kerian struggled to get his fingers under the constriction at his throat, his feet slipping on the cobbles as he struggled to set himself and step away but the strength of the huge man was astounding. He felt himself leaning over backwards, his shield digging into the back of his neck and the tops of his legs as his resilient foe snarled his impending victory to the crowd, despite being on his knees.
There was only one thing to do. Kerian smashed his head back as far as he could and felt it connect with the man’s nose. It was like hitting a wall, making Kerian see stars but the surprise attack worked to his advantage, his foe releasing his grip at the impact and bellowing with rage. Kerian threw himself forwards, feeling the tightness at his neck increase before something gave and his linen tunic ripped free. He charged forward three steps, then turned to swing a kick at the man, catching the thug on the ear before Kerian surprisingly found himself falling to the ground as the titan grabbed his ankle.
Some of the crowd were actively clapping their appreciation at this acrobatic show, as Kerian’s surprised facial expression displayed his clear amazement that it was him and not his foe who had fallen to the cobbles. He dusted himself off and closed again, a left and right smashing into the man’s jaw, only for Kerian to end up shaking his hands at the pain rushing through his fingers. This brute was unstoppable! His large adversary laughed before slowly getting back to his feet, his movement stopping other stallholders from angrily rushing forward to complain about the damage to their stalls.
A quick glance past the hulk confirmed guards were closing on their position. Kerian needed to get away and realised he needed a swift diversion. He slipped his hand into his trousers and lifted out the handful of coins he had bartered for his gems. It appeared to be easy come, easy go, in Wellruff! He shrugged, mentally resigning himself to the fact that he would have to collect more gems from his saddlebags at the Inn and exchange them tomorrow!
Kerian eyed up his opponent, bowed and then with a dramatic flourish threw his hand up in the air sending golden coins spinning. The crowd took in the sight of the tumbling gold coins then surged forwards, greedy hands grasping at the unexpected bounty. Kerian ducked to the side as they came, noting the hulk losing his balance in the stampede and crashing to the floor as Kerian slipped away through the excited crowd. He angled between the stalls, making sure the guards were occupied with the unruly crowd, before he moved towards the alleyway where the dice man had been attacked. He felt sure that the olive-skinned man would be dead by now, Kerian’s rescue mission now a case of tragic recovery.
He slipped through another crowd of shoppers, snatching a large hat and turning to admire some pots and pans as two more guards ran by. The reflection in one skillet showing a worried bystander having a heated discussion with the two men, waving his arms dramatically as he voiced his concern that he had lost his wife somewhere in the bustle of the market place. His frantic gestures pointed back in the direction of the alleyway and not the stalls where Kerian had been fighting. Kerian eased away, joining a group of shoppers gravitating in the right direction, then peeled away to pushing through a loud crowd now gathering across the alleyway and stepped forward into the shadowy passage beyond, temporarily leaving the chaotic sounds of the market behind him. The scene he beheld froze him to the spot.
Several bodies lay on the ground in congealing pools of blood, their corpses broken and torn apart. Blood was splattered everywhere, arterial crimson arcs painting a detailed tapestry of gore capturing the ferocity of the attacks. At the far end of the alley, the fence used to prevent passage to the market thoroughfare now lay in pieces, smashed and splintered timber lengths discarded as if a hurricane had recently devastated the area.
Kerian dropped to one knee turning the first victim over, catching a quick glimpse of wounds across the man’s chest that could easily have been inflicted by a huge bear or equally ferocious wild animal. Here lay the thug Kerian had incapacitated earlier with the wooden prop from the stall, the man’s days intimidating others now over. A female shopper lay nearby, her face ripped apart, one vacant eye staring blankly out into space. The next corpse belonged to the guard Kerian had tipped so heavily. The man’s throat had been torn out; viscera and gleaming cartilage now exposed to the air. Kerian swiftly glanced around the alleyway, confused at initially not seeing the man he had intended to save.
He moved towards the ruined fence, peering anxiously through the splintered timbers into the alleyway beyond, before noticing a foot sticking out from behind a barrel near the far wall. His heart sank at the realisation the man he had tried so hard to save had also been attacked by whatever beast had killed the others. He ran over, pushing the barrel aside, only to spot the man’s foot twitching faintly. The dice man was still alive. He had to have the luck of the gods!
The man’s wounds looked severe; his clothes ripped to shreds, his body covered in bloody lacerations. His face was a mottled mess and his breathing ragged and unsteady.
“Oh dear lord.” Kerian gasped, quickly staring around and rechecking the shadows of the alleyway just in case whatever did this was still be in the area. “What happened to you? What happened to those men?”
“You should have left me alone.” The dice man groaned. “I could have handled it on my own. Now look what you have done.” Rapid footsteps of approaching men made Kerian stop in his tracks.
“Stop right where you are!” A voice shouted. “You are under arrest for the murder of these people.”
“Murder?” Kerian mouthed, turning slowly around to face the eight guards standing before him, his hands held up to show he meant no harm. “You have made a mistake. My friend and I had nothing to do with this.”
“Of course you didn’t” came a reply tinged with menace.
“Look my friend has been hurt, he needs medical attention.” Kerian turned to gesture to the beaten figure on the floor as the guards closed in.
“So do you.” Came the menacing reply.
“What?” Kerian replied incredulously, spinning back to the guards. “Can’t you see we need hel…”
Kerian never even saw the blackjack blow that connected solidly with the side of his head. One minute he was standing in the ruined alleyway under the mid-morning sunlight, considering how he could escape, the next, someone had turned out the lights, the sights, the smells…
* * * * * *
The horizon ahead of the El Defensor glowed ominously as Colette commenced her gateway spell. She bit her lip in concentration as raw magical power slashed huge glowing runes across a doorway higher and wider than the billowing sails of the Spanish galleon on which she sailed. For a split second the crewmen observing this arcane display forgot the terror of what her actions meant for them, their mouths wide in amazement as the sky peeled back to expose the sickly mustard skies of their destination. Skeletal spars from wrecked ships reached for the heavens like brittle fingers of bone and a stench of decay washed over the deck as the El Defensor surged through the magical opening.
Colette looked at Thomas and waited for his signal that the ship had cleared the sorcerous opening before she held her breath and cancelled the magic rushing from the ruined amethyst in her lap. The magical portal slammed closed, leaving the ship and crew in the one place none of them wan
ted to be.
The waters beneath the ship continued to stream forward, rippling the thick mat of weed that circled the massive collection of maritime ghosts abandoned ahead. The whole flotilla of assorted wreckage creaked in an agonising slow spiral of movement that sent shrieks and groans of protest up from the derelict wrecks as they ground relentlessly against each other. Thomas held his finger to his lips confirming his orders of silence to the crew and signalled to Rauph asking the Minotaur to turn the helm sharply to starboard and start the slow skirt around the perimeter of this ominous place known despairingly by lost sailors as the ship’s graveyard.
Huge archways of crumbling masonry soared to the heavens, running side to side to form a massive circle that reached out further than any of the crew could see, the far distant portals obscured by a heavy haze that reminded the captain of a New York smog. Thomas knew the archways completely encircled the slowly revolving island of wrecked vessels. Each towering construction offering those with the magical means to unlock them, access to thousands of different worlds.
Thomas licked his lips nervously, smelling a stench of rot emanating from the wreckage on the Port side that was so strong it lined the inside of his nostrils and coated the back of his throat. He turned to Abeline and Lubok, gesturing that they swiftly get aloft as the sails that initially billowed with the air of their passage now hung limp as if the life was sucked out of them. No winds blew here in the graveyard unless they came through open archways and Thomas had no intention of slowing their limited forward momentum with drag created from the massive areas of canvas.
A light touch at Thomas’s elbow made him start and he turned to find his companion Rowan had appeared at his side. The captain felt instantly stronger in her presence, although he was surprised that she had managed to prize herself away from Commagin’s crew and the Dwarven engineer’s chaotic workshop below decks. It seemed whenever she had a free moment, she was in there tinkering and helping with the engineer’s mad inventions. He took in her graceful figure, like a lost desert traveller being administered a long cool drink. Thomas loved how Rowan, despite her greasy overalls and mussed brunette hair, pulled back in a tight ponytail, always managed to appear elegant and exotic to his eyes. Fastened around her neck was a bright orange neckerchief, her tanned forehead and forearms had oil smudges across them and a battered wrench swung loosely in her hand, yet she still managed to look stunning as she stood taking in the sense of palpable tension around them. He nodded acknowledgement of her arrival and reinforced the quiet motions with his hand even as a smile warmed his nervous features.
The Labyris Knight Page 6