The Labyris Knight

by Adam Derbyshire

  “Where has the axe gone?”

  * * * * * *

  Another black arrow streaked through the air, slamming through sinew and bone and knocking a Minotaur guard off the steps with the force of the blow.

  “To the left.” Mathius pointed calmly and Weyn fired another deadly shaft, piercing the unfortunate target’s eye and dropping him to the floor, his bow hand instinctively reaching for another arrow even as the latter left the string of the taut bow. The third arrow ricocheted off a minotaur helmet and twisted away off into the crowds.

  “Oops!” The archer winced as it slammed into a spectator’s seat pinning a high up member of the Taurean society to their seat whilst others screamed and ran for the exits.

  “Careless.” Mathius remarked, tutting loudly. “You pulled your shot.”

  “No I didn’t.” Weyn retorted. “I’m still having issues with my arm.” Mathius grinned then looked over his shoulder at Thomas still climbing the stairs, then down towards the floor where a stream of guards clambered up the stairway towards them. “How long did he say we had to hold them back?”

  “Until he gets to the top.” Weyn replied loosing an arrow that took one Minotaur in the knee and felled him. “Uh oh.”

  “Don’t you ‘uh oh’ me!” Mathius snapped. “What is the problem? Oh, on the left” Weyn fired his bow to where Mathius had indicated, his arrow slamming through plate and stabbing cleanly into a Minotaur chest, before he indicated the far wall, away over the sea of spectator heads, where another staircase rose from the floor. Guards were swiftly charging up the stairs, hoping to cut the three men off.

  “Uh, oh!”

  * * * * * *

  Colette fell to the floor, her face stinging from the slap administered by Wanessa, her concentration holding her magical illusions in place broken. The spell shattered just as Drummon swung the axe up high and with the illusion removed the weapon reverted back to its true form in the black Minotaur’s hands growing heavier and throwing off his downward swing.

  The Warhammer Drummon was now holding smashed into the back of the chair, missing Rauph’s head by inches, driving the back legs down into the floor and causing them to shatter. The chair disintegrated under the force of the blow, dropping Rauph down and freeing him from the hands of the guards who had been holding him.

  The navigator did not need to be told twice. This was the only opportunity he was going to get to escape. He lashed out with his hands, the remains of the chair legs still tied to his wrists now impromptu weapons that he flailed left and right with, feeling satisfying ‘thwacks’ and ‘thunks’ as he took out the legs of those nearest him.

  Drummon roared his frustration, finding himself over balancing as the Warhammer dragged him off to the side, the head of the immense weapon chipping the stone floor and leaving the Prince Regent with no opportunity to reverse the swing and kill his brother. He spread his stance, gripped the haft of the weapon and finally wrenched it from the floor, spinning it around, just as one unfortunate guard received a blow to the back of his knees from Rauph and dropped his face directly into the hammer’s path. The Minotaur’s skull cracked like an egg, blood flowed and the hammer dropped to the stone floor again, dragging Drummon down and invoking another roar of frustration from him, as his brother finally regained his feet.

  As soon as Rauph stood up, the pain in his calf exploded making the navigator stagger backwards, directly towards Wanessa, who drew a dagger from the folds of her robes and raised it to strike. Ashe tried to cry a warning but Mora yanked on his hair, making his cry a sob of anguish, drawing her son’s attention towards concerns for the Halfling thief rather than the Minotaur about to plunge her dirk between his shoulder blades.

  Colette grabbed the sandwich platter and swung it with all her might, smashing it into Wanessa’s head and leaving her staggering before she reversed the swing and slammed it in behind the Minotaur’s legs, dropping her to the floor, her face now a mess of blood, bruises and egg and cress sandwiches.

  “The statue.” Colette gasped. “It’s over at the statue.”

  “What is?” Rauph stood there perplexed, looking this way and that but not any clearer as to what he was supposed to be looking at.

  “The Labyris axe!” Colette pointed, banging the tray down onto Wanessa’s head once more for good luck. “The axe is where it has always been, over on the central pedestal. Rowan has got it.”

  Drummon roared again, pushing the guards aside. His gaze meeting Rauph’s as Colette inadvertently revealed where the prize lay. Both Minotaur turned towards the lattice orb noting the petite figure of Rowan still struggling to keep the axe from sliding from its station, then their eyes turned to each other, they snorted a challenge, then the chase was on.

  Rauph was further into the room and had a clear head start but Drummon was still fresh having clearly faced very little of the trials and tribulations met by the other contestants. He leapt forward with a battle cry, swinging the Warhammer to the left and the right, sweeping the scrabbling guards from his path without any concern for their wellbeing. They were between him and his birthright and as such their lives were expendable.

  The navigator turned and ran for the orb, feeling fresh pain lancing through his leg each time he placed his weight upon it. He could almost feel the floor shaking as his brother charged relentlessly towards him, could see the fear etched on Rowan’s face as she struggled to support the Labyris axe and stop it slipping from her grasp. She was so far away, the distance between them closing in agonising slow motion.

  Drummon swung the war hammer in a clumsy arc, meaning to knock his injured brother from his feet, maybe break a few ribs or crack his skull but Kristoph’s unsteady gait from his injury threw off the Prince’s aim and the hammer merely smashed into the navigators left shoulder.

  The blow threw Rauph forward as if he had been hit by a tree. He stumbled out of control, falling flat on his face and sliding over to the edge of the twisting walkways, just short of where he had originally climbed up into the room. He slid across his own bloody boot prints, his chin hitting the ground, painfully snapping his teeth; his shoulder screaming in agony as his arm bent back against the joint, his chest landing on something that had been left discarded on the floor, the collision pressing the wind from his lungs.

  Drummon laughed as the blow landed, then struggled to control his own momentum as the swing of the hammer made his own feet skip. He allowed the massive weapon to follow through on its momentum slamming the head of the hammer down hard onto the very edge of the opening in the floor, cracking the stone and sending tremors through the delicate structure of the orb.

  Rowan squealed in alarm as the vibrations ran through her body and the axe tilted further towards the edge. The damned thing was too top heavy, too difficult for her to hold onto. She tried to pull it back, standing on tiptoe, her arms outstretched. How had she let Colette talk her into this?

  “Hello puny human.” Drummon shouted. “Why don’t you give the axe to me?”

  “That is going to be easier said than done.” Rowan replied, her outstretched fingers barely touching the huge axe.

  “Now!” Drummon roared, swinging the war hammer down and smashing it onto one of the delicate walkways leading out to the pedestal. Rowan screamed as the pathway cracked and the axe shuddered beneath her fingertips. Drummon laughed at her distress and casually walked around to the next pathway.

  “Do I need to ask you again?” he warned.

  “You will have to come and get it yourself.” Rowan shouted back. “I’m barely managing to hold onto it.”

  “Wrong answer.” Drummon replied swinging the hammer, sweeping it up then letting it crash down onto the second slender walkway, demolishing the path and causing the whole pedestal to groan at the weakness of having two supports removed.

  “What are you doing?” Rowan screamed, her eyes glancing down through the gaps in the stonework, seeing all the little people running around down there like ant
s from a disturbed nest. A wave of vertigo passed over her and for a second, she felt she would lose her balance and fall. “You will make me drop the axe.”

  “I can always retrieve the axe.” Drummon grinned swinging the huge hammer around in a circle as he walked calmly towards the next support. “Only three left now.”

  “Please don’t.” Rowan cried out. “I can’t pass you the axe, it’s too heavy and I am afraid I will fall.”

  “Too bad.” Drummon replied swinging the hammer again with equally devastating results. The pedestal tilted, sliding the axe back into Rowan’s outstretched hands just as further structural cracks raced along the remaining struts. One Minotaur statue slowly leaned out then tumbled away into the pyramid base, causing Rowan to scrabble to regain her footing. The whole orb was unstable now. Rowan knew she had to get off before the whole thing dropped sending her to her death and the idiot Minotaur was continuing his walk around the perimeter of the hole swinging his hammer and actually whistling to himself.

  She looked over at Rauph, still prostate on the floor, struggling to rise, noted the others advancing between the thrones, silent witnesses to an execution of someone who was not guilty of any crime towards the Taurean people. She saw Mora screaming at Drummon to stop, Ashe thrown from her grasp, landing hard, rolling away across the floor. Then she saw Colette who was clearly trying to gather enough magical power to cast a spell in Rowan’s direction but by the look on the young mage’s face, it was clear she recognised the futility of trying to do so. There simply was not enough time.

  Then the orb dropped.

  * * * * * *

  There are 1860 steps from the main foyer of the Empire State building up to the 102nd floor, taking an average person approximately forty minutes to complete the strenuous climb. Thomas knew some keen athletes who ran as far as the 86th floor, managing 1576 steps in a little over ten minutes. However, in comparison to his current ascent, he knew deep in his heart that such an undertaking would have been a walk in the park.

  His knees ached, his lower legs screamed at each step, his clothes were stuck to his body with perspiration and his lungs were sounding like old bellows wheezing. If he had been an old jalopy, he would have been condemned to the junk pile! Just how had he managed to get in such a poor shape?

  The scream from above diverted his attention from his own woes and he looked up, initially bemused, as the orb in the ceiling appeared to snap on one side and drop downwards, swinging over to the side, where it was still attached to the stonework. A pale Minotaur sculpture dropped away, falling end over end, only to smash into pieces on the ground far below. He shrugged, not concerned with the fate of a statue, only to realise that the screaming continued.

  He looked back up to the orb and felt his heart skip a beat. A small, petite shape was hanging from it, her hands grasped around a staff of some kind that was wedged into the intricately carved design that made up the ball. Vague shapes were moving towards the edge where the structure had come away from the ceiling but Thomas was unable to see exactly what was going on, his eyes repeatedly being drawn towards the slim figure swinging in the air. He knew that body, he knew that scream… Rowan. Dear lord it was Rowan!

  Thomas felt a sudden rush of energy as the terrible desperation of the situation sunk in. He had to get up there, had to strive to save Rowan, although in his mind a little voice was already warning him it was pointless to attempt. He could only save her if he got down onto the slowly spiralling staircase but it was all folded up, its point bent over under the weight of the stone orb sitting on top of it. Thomas gritted his teeth, clutching his cutlass firmly in his hand and started to take the steps faster, knowing he had to try, no matter what the cost.

  He turned the last corner at a sprint, charging up the steps, only for a huge Minotaur to drop down onto the step above him and bring to bear a halberd it held, the huge blade gleaming brightly in the torchlight. The captain did not miss a step, leaping aside as the guard lunged, before swinging his cutlass down hard across the shaft of the huge weapon. The halberd staff snapped, the blade ringing loudly on the stair, the guard staring at his weapon in disbelief as Thomas charged towards him. Then the cutlass swung again and the guard’s left horn was sheared cleanly off.

  “Move!” Thomas yelled. The guard felt for his horn then staggered to one side leaving the stairway clear for Thomas to ascend to the final landing. He only hoped it would not be too late.

  * * * * * *

  “Drummon stop what you are doing!” Mora roared. “You need the axe.”

  “I know and when it falls, I’ll send one of the guards to fetch it.” The huge Minotaur shrugged, moving over towards one of the last two remaining supports. “This won’t take long.”

  “And then that Minotaur will become king.” Mora replied quietly, her nose and nostrils flared. “For whoever holds the axe this eve becomes the new ruler of Taurean. Drummon, you did not think this through, did you?”

  Drummon’s confident smile dissolved as he regarded the young woman swinging under him, her hands tightly clutching to the shaft of the axe, her face a mask of terror, her legs swinging out over nothing but a terrifyingly long drop.

  “Oh.” The Prince looked about confused. Just in time to see a human erupt from the nearest stairwell, a cutlass held in his hand, his face set like thunder.

  “Humans are not permitted up here.” Mora shouted. Then her eyebrows rose as she realised who she was addressing. “Thomas Adams? But that’s impossible. You’re dead.”

  “I’ll take that as a confession and will deal with you later.” The captain replied coldly. “Don’t just stand there! Somebody save her!” He turned in desperation to Colette, saw the resignation in her eyes, then to Rauph who was crawling over to the opening and peering down inside it, his arms reaching for the woman Thomas loved. The captain dropped to his knees and stared down towards where Rowan swung, her face red, her fingers white from holding on. Rauph’s arms were painfully short of his target. It did not take a genius to realise he would never reach.

  “Don’t worry Rowan, I’m right here!” Thomas called down to her, feigning a smile to try and put her at ease. “Don’t look down, just keep looking at me. We are going to have you out of this mess before you know it.” He glanced about, desperate for more help, noting the hulking shape of Drummon hovering on the other side of the orb. The Minotaur appeared to be in some kind of conflict, smacking his head in agitation as he watched the unfolding spectacle, as if unsure of what to do.

  “Please hurry,” Rowan tried to force a smile in response but the strain was telling on her arms. “I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”

  “Let me assist.” Aelius replied stepping forwards and dropping to his knees alongside Rauph. “Hold me, I can reach out further than you and I am not injured.” Rauph looked at his mentor’s eyes, read the sincerity in them and reluctantly nodded his head, gesturing that his help was needed.

  “Guards, arrest these people!” Mora shouted, indicating that Aelius and Rauph be taken away. Thomas regained his feet and viciously whipped his cutlass around, making the guards swiftly step back.

  “The first one that tries is dead.” The captain’s face was set like granite, his eyes blazing with emotion. More Minotaur came out of the stairwell the other side of the room and started to charge towards them. Thomas took one look, swiftly counting the odds but refusing to back down. He would die before he gave up on Rowan. He turned and offered the approaching troop a salute with his cutlass and turned side on ready to meet them.

  “Just get my girl up fast.” He spat, fighting back his panic and preparing for what he thought would be the inevitable. “Or I will personally ensure you all face the consequences.”

  “Hold!” Aelius shouted making every guard stop at their commander’s stern tone. “That human can wait. I need help here now!” The guards looked at each other and then leapt to assist, grabbing Rauph around the waist and sliding him forwards, so that he in turn co
uld lower Aelius into the opening.

  “Just a little further.” Aelius ordered, his fingers outstretched for the young woman swinging desperately beneath him. “I can almost reach her.” Rauph suddenly slid forwards off the edge, almost dropping the commander along with himself, the guards holding him grabbed for his legs and piled onto his lower body causing the Minotaur to roar in pain as they landed on his wounded leg.

  “Steady Kristoph.” Aelius warned, aware that his life and the young woman entirely depended on the strength of his young charge. “Don’t you dare drop me or I shall be very disappointed in you.” The orb groaned and creaked alarmingly.

  Rauph gritted his teeth, tears running down his face, his breath coming in short spasms, the agony in his lower limbs almost more than the Minotaur could stand, yet he remained focused, refusing to let his mentor fall. Something snapped loudly in the masonry as the tension on the structure increased.

  “Human, look at me!” Aelius stated calmly, trying to ignore the troubling sounds around him. “I’m going to grab your wrist, then I want you to let go of the axe. Do you understand me?” Rowan stared up at the old Minotaur and saw the concern in his eyes. The inner belief in the majestic animal that it would not, could not fail. She nodded her head and stilled her kicking.

  “I don’t know if I can let go.” She confessed, a tremor to her voice. “I’ll fall.”

  “If you don’t, you will fall anyway.” Aelius replied, reaching out, his fingers inching down across her tightly clenched fist. “And I for one would not like to face your man and admit I had failed to save you. He looks very intense.”

  The Minotaur grunted above him, voicing their concern over the weight they were supporting. Rauph had a glazed look in his eyes as he pushed down the pain in his legs and focused on a purple line drawing in his mind that was turning into the largest scribble he had ever seen. His hide was slick with foaming bubbles of sweat but he refused to give in, refused to pass out. There was too much at stake.

  “On three.” Aelius stated, inching his hand further down to her wrist. “One… Two…”