Assassins of Kantara

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Assassins of Kantara Page 53

by James Boschert


  Skleros was either too drunk to move, or he disliked the sounds he heard, for he stayed where he was and shouted, “Malakis! What’s happening? Tell me!”

  The assassin hurriedly hauled the string back on his cross bow and slipped his spare bolt in place ready to deal with Skleros. In the semi-darkness of guttering candlelight that threw flickering, moving shadows onto the walls, the assassin became aware that he was not alone. He shot a hurried glance behind him and thought he saw a more tangible shadow slip out of sight, but it was very difficult to see. Nonetheless, his instincts were screaming at him to leave now before he himself became a victim.

  Casting one last look in the direction of Skleros, he turned away and slipped back along the corridor, glancing uneasily behind him, then headed for his escape route.

  Talon and Maymun huddled in the darkness of the corridor. They had only arrived themselves, in time to hear the crash of Malakis falling over backwards onto the table. Talon saw the assassin just as the slim dark figure reloaded and prepared to take out someone else. At that moment the figure must have had the instinct to feel that he was not alone. He turned but Talon ducked out of sight. The assassin seemed to decide to depart abruptly, leaving his other victim unmolested.

  Moments later, Skleros called out again, and in the ensuing silence he crept out of the darkness with his sword drawn. He gasped when he saw the wreckage and the body lying on the flagstones. “Malakis!” he called out, and stepped forward. “Murder! God help us, murder!” he roared to the world to large.

  Before Talon or Maymun could react, he charged, bellowing at the top of his voice, right past them. He brushed by Talon, who was plastered to the wall with Maymun next to him, without heeding them. The temptation to kill him occurred to Talon, but this man had not been their target, and besides, the alarm was already raised. It was time to leave, but not by the way they had arrived.

  “Come on, we’ll follow that other man,” Talon whispered as they listened to Skleros roaring out the alarm as he laboriously climbed the stairs to the palace ground floor. He stumbled once but never stopped yelling.

  They ran as fast as they dared along the short corridor to the area where they found the storerooms. Talon could see in the dim light ahead a figure slipping out of sight up the wooden steps leading to the ground floor. “That way!” he whispered urgently.

  By now the servants who slept in the storerooms had been wakened by the noise and were sitting up rubbing their eyes. As Talon and Maymun emerged from the cellars into the kitchen, they were confronted by a big bleary-eyed cook who recklessly decided to try and stop Talon. Reaching out to his right, Talon grabbed the handle of a large copper pot off the rack and swung it hard onto the man’s head. The pot gave out a satisfying clang as it came into contact with his skull, and the man collapsed in a heap.

  Leaping over the prostrate man they chased after their quarry, who by now had departed the cluttered kitchen. Another big man began to blunder into their path and reached for Maymun, even managing to grasp his sleeve, but Maymun snatched up a heavy copper ladle and chopped up and down rapidly on the clutching arm. The burly figure cried out at the pain then fell aside, clutching his arm. The two scuttled up the stairs. The figure was racing up yet another flight of steps, so they followed.

  The chase took them right up to the top of the two-storied building and out onto the roof. Climbing out onto the tiles, Talon saw his quarry sprinting lightly along the ridge of the building, moving very rapidly, glancing back from time to time. Then he spun about and Talon could see he was pointing a crossbow at them.

  “Down!” he exclaimed. Both he and Maymun jumped down and ducked below the level of the tiles as a quarrel rattled the tiles between them. Talon shook his head. There would not be another chance. He leapt to the roof, unslung his bow and knocked an arrow. He could just see the figure running away. Bracing his feet wide, Talon took aim. In the clear light of the stars his target stood out as a dark silhouette at twenty-five paces.

  The bow twanged and an arrow sped to thump hard into the back of his victim. With a squawk, the figure threw its arms into the air, then stumbled and fell to its knees before slowly toppling over to its left side and sliding down the tiled roof, c dislodging tiles as it rolled over and over. With one last cry the figure fell over the edge of the roof down into a compound below. What Talon saw then turned his blood cold. Two large cats leapt out of the dark shadows and pounced onto the man, who was still just alive when he landed. With snarls and fearsome growls the two cats set upon the body which ceased to twitch as they rent it. Because it no longer moved, and all the fun having gone out of the kill, the two cats sat back on their haunches and contemplated their uninvited supper.

  Wide-eyed with surprise, Talon shook his head. What was it about tyrants that moved them to keep such deadly animals? This was not the first time he had encountered ferocious, oversized cats. Sounds of alarm jolted him back to the present. Guards were running along the walls to their front, many of them carrying torches; there was no escape there, even if the assassin had come in that way.

  Then someone looked in their direction: in the starlit night they could be clearly seen.

  “Over there!” he yelled, pointing, and another guard hurled a torch towards them. It arced through the night and fell with a thump and shower of sparks on the roof, then rolled away to sputter out before falling over the edge.

  “What is it?” another demanded.

  “I saw someone on that roof over there!” the first person called.

  “Get up there with the archers! Take them down!” shouted someone in authority.

  Arrows began to whisper past them, some clattering onto the tiles; clearly this was not a way out anymore. Talon glanced down at the garden. “Hurry! We have to get back into the gardens and out through that gate!” He pointed to the dark cave of shrubbery that led to the doorway. They made their descent using the thick vines of wisteria which covered the interior garden walls. Then they had to run across the lawns between the shrubs.

  By now the entire palace was wide awake and men were swarming along the pathways carrying torches, their light flickering off the soldiers’ armor and helmets. Lights were even showing in the windows above the garden, as the resident women woke up to the alarms and frightened eunuchs lit candles. All the attention for the moment was concentrated on the roofs, where several men were now unsteadily pacing, trying to keep their balance while holding torches high in the air.

  “Nobody here!” one called back, and promptly slipped and fell, sliding to the very edge of the roof. “Oh God, protect me!” he wailed as he looked down saw the big cats, which stared up at him with their large yellow eyes. Things had become very interesting for the leopards this starry night. The terrified man hung onto the ridge for life itself.

  “The cats have got something down there with them,” another one said, peering downward. “Looks like a body!”

  It would be only a very short time before someone decided to investigate the bushes and shrubs of the garden. Indeed, Talon noticed several servants appear at the doorway of the building that led out onto the terrace overlooking the gardens. They too carried torches with them. There was no time to lose.

  A reckless idea occurred to him. “Stay here, Maymun, but be ready!” he said, and he darted out of his dark refuge and made for the gates to the cats’ compound. With a sigh of relief he noticed that it was heavily barred but not locked. He shifted the heavy bars out of the way and pulled the gates wide open. The leopards were still too preoccupied with the tantalizing activity on the roof above them to notice what Talon had done, but he was sure they soon would.

  He turned and raced past Maymun. “Come along, Maymun, unless you want to be their second course!” he called in a hoarse whisper as he charged past, his arms and legs pumping him towards the doorway set into the wall. Maymun needed no further persuasion. “Dear God help us!” he muttered to himself as he chased after his leader as though the devil himself was after him.

&n
bsp; “There they go! They’re getting away! Stop them!” a guard shouted. A couple of bolts from crossbows snapped into the grass behind the two fleeing figures. The shouts intensified from the grounds as servants noticed the running pair; they had not yet noticed the open gates of the compound.

  They were pointing and calling when someone noticed the two cats cautiously leaving their home. With a shriek of alarm a servant woman pointed at them, initiating a stampeding panic as others noticed the cats. Both animals, being unable to resist a fleeing creature of any kind, promptly decided to enjoy themselves and galloped after the servants as they fled into the palace itself.

  Unnoticed by the cats, Talon and Maymun fled in the opposite direction pursued by flying bolts, arrows and curses from frustrated archers on the distant walls. If they could just get past that gate they could easily evade the sentries on the other side. A spent bolt chipped the stone wall as they dived through the gate and drew it closed. As they leaned against the wall panting, they heard a satisfying scream from the direction of the palace buildings.

  “I think the leopards must have decided to go and investigate the rest of the palace. I hope that lady Tamura has the wits to keep to her rooms tonight,” Talon panted.

  Maymun gave a huff of alarm as they turned to head for the outer walls. A squad of spearmen were running towards them. “Inside here,” he whispered to Talon, and vanished into the dense shrubbery nearby. Talon wasted no time joining him; they crouched, waiting and holding their breath as the soldiers rushed up to halt at the door.

  “Are you sure that you saw someone here?” one asked.

  “Certain of it, Sergeant. They must have gone inside,” said another.

  “Check the door in case it’s unlocked,” came the command.

  There was a rattle close by and a muttered curse. “Damn me! It’s not locked. Whoever they are, they must have slipped inside.”

  “I’m sure I heard a scream, Sergeant,” another said.

  “We’ve got them trapped if they did go in. Check the bushes first, and then we’ll go in.”

  Just at that moment they heard urgent shouting on the other side of the closed door. There were shouts of fear and alarm, then more screams.

  “Come on, something’s going on in there. We’ve got to help! You two stay here and guard the door in case they slip past us, the rest of you follow me.” The door was slammed open and the squad rushed through the entrance.

  Two men remained at the open doorway, but they were so distracted by the bedlam in the gardens that they didn’t see the two shadows detach themselves from the bushes nearby and lope across the intervening space between the inner and outer walls. Neither did they see the figures slip over the parapet of the outer wall and disappear into the streets of the city.

  Inside the palace its inhabitants woke to widespread panic. The distant shrieks and yells woke Asanes from a drunken stupor where he lay in a small windowless chamber near the kitchens. The first thing he knew was a banging on his door, then one of the kitchen servants rushed in, shouting that they were under attack.

  He woke up properly then and seized his sword, swung it about, cursed his headache, and sallied forth to run into a frenzied crowd of palace servants and eunuchs rushing about in all directions.

  “Assassins!” some screamed. “Bandits!” others took up the cry. “The Arabs are here!” “Leopards!” yelled other terror-stricken people as they scrambled away from one or the other of these fearsome threats. He shook his head and cursed again.

  “Where?” he roared, and then caught himself. His head threatened to fall off if he did that again.

  One of the eunuchs paused long enough to cry, “It’s the leopards, they are here!”

  Asanes seized him by the throat. “Where? Tell me, or by your severed manhood I’ll wring your neck!” he croaked.

  “Somewhere,” the eunuch struggled free and fled after the crowd. Asanes wiped his face as he watched their retreating backs. The leopards? How by the saint’s bollocks did they get free? He needed to find Malakis or Skleros; they had been drinking downstairs the last time he had heard from them.

  He made his way down to the cellars and found the corpse of Malakis lying amid the wreckage of his last meal. A serpent of fear began to uncoil in his stomach and drops of greasy sweat started to roll down his face.Hastily he retreated back up the stairs.

  Asanes was just about to charge into the main hallway when he saw one of the leopards stalking a trembling slave, who cowered in a corner, moaning and feebly waving it away.

  “Oooer,” Asanes exclaimed to himself as he hastily retreated out of sight. So the cats had escaped! How in hell had that happened? He would be talking to their keepers, who might find themselves being fed to their animals once the emperor had finished with them.

  Asanes left the luckless slave to his fate and went in search of more men. He came across Skleros and a contingent of men coming into the back entrance of the women’s wing from the gardens.

  “What the hell is going on?” Asanes roared. His head didn’t fall off, although he resisted the temptation to hold it in place.

  “We had an assassin’s visit and Malakis was killed,” Skleros began.

  “I know that!” Asanes croaked. “What are the leopards doing in the palace?”

  “I don’t Goddam well know, and if you would stop interrupting me perhaps I can tell you more about Malakis!” Skleros was obviously very upset.

  The two men were large and almost the same height. By this time they were almost nose to beaky nose as they asserted themselves. Neither liked the other, but under Malakis they had just managed to get along. Now that he was dead it seemed the right time to settle scores. Oblivious of their own astonished men and the chaos going on around them, the two large half-wits faced off.

  With angry snarls they reached for the other’s throats at exactly the same time and then grappled, locked in mortal combat, each trying to throttle the other, their fingers twitching like huge hairy tarantulas fumbling for a better hold on each other’s throats. They swayed slightly, their teeth bared in a rictus of rage, their eyes beginning to bulge as the pressure grew. They were just about to strangle one another when a high-pitched voice interrupted their deadly preoccupation.

  “Stop this! What in God’s name are you two doing? There are assassins killing everyone and leopards running loose eating people inside the palace! If you don’t do something about it I shall report both of you to the emperor who will be here today!” Diocles shouted at the top of his voice. He turned to the squad leader, who was standing behind Skleros wearing a bewildered look on his face, and said in a calmer voice.

  “Sergeant, round up all the men who are not currently on the walls. Find the keepers and get those leopards back in their damned cage. At once! Leave some men for our protection.” The sergeant saluted and told his men to follow him, leaving two chastened giants behind.

  As the antagonists drew reluctantly apart, glaring malevolently at one another, Diocles stated, “You two will settle down, and you, Skleros, will tell us all you know.” He looked around the room apprehensively for any sign of a lurking cat.

  The leopards were otherwise occupied. They had parted ways, the one to torment the poor slave who was nearly dead from a heart attack as the leopard played “hook the mouse” with him; the other had discovered the stairway. This lead to interesting places and it had gone upstairs, where he had wandered about the wide corridors terrorizing the occupants of the women’s quarters. Most of the women at first sight of the pacing animal prudently dived back into their rooms, slamming and locking their doors. Then they sought out their deepest darkest cupboards, where they joined the cowering eunuchs who were already there. They all wept, clutching at one another in stark terror, waiting to be devoured.

  Tamura had not been so lucky. Siranus had been in the corridor when the leopard appeared at the head of the stairs, and he came rushing in to find her already awake but still in bed. “The leopard!” he quavered.


  “What about the leopard?” she asked, puzzled, giving him one of those looks that said, “Idiot”.

  “It’s... it’s here!” he said. His face was ashen and he was wringing his hands.

  “Of course it’s here, you fool. It belongs to the emperor. Oh my God!” she exclaimed as the door was nudged open by a large spotted head with big yellow eyes and huge teeth. The animal slid into the room and looked around as it sniffed the air, its mouth slightly open displaying long white fangs, then it moved deeper into the room. Ignoring Siranus, who had shit himself as he fainted to the floor, the animal padded slowly and silently towards Tamura, who was on the bed watching it with wide open eyes.

  “Dear God, I’m so very sorry for what I did to Gabriella. Please forgive me!” she pleaded in a whisper. “I’ll never do it again, I swear on all that is holy, just... just don’t let it hurt me!” she gave off a pitiful little wail.

  She had pulled the bed clothes up to her chin as though that might somehow protect her. Frozen in place, she stared with wide fearful eyes at the animal as it came closer, its tail lashing from side to side, its yellow eyes fixed upon her with a glare that petrified her soul. Summoning all her will power, Tamura said in a cracked voice, “Go! Get away. Go away!” Her heart was beating so fast she though it would burst out of her chest. The great cat rumbled deep in its throat and continued to move closer. Again it sniffed the air with its mouth slightly open, as though it was assessing the scent it had traced to her bed. It didn’t threaten her other than by its mere presence.

  They observed one another from a distance of no more than three paces, the one warily, while the other seemed to be frowning in puzzlement, a snarl hovering on its muzzle. Then they both heard the noise of many men rushing up the stairs. The moment was gone and the animal, with a growl of anger, spun around and vanished out of the half-open door in a flash. It was as though it had never been in the room, but Tamura felt as though it left a presence nonetheless. Her heart in her mouth, she dived out of bed and ran to the door to slam it shut, just as armed men arrived led by Asanes. He paused to hold the door open and looked her over. His eyes roamed her from head to foot.

 

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