Complete In the Service of Dragons

by William Robert Stanek

  Nijal was growing quite pleased with his performance as the night drew on. His lack of common sense and his vanity cost him the next two matches, but he won the third quite skillfully with three neatly thrown scores. He winked at Pilio as he exchanged blades with him, taking careful place from the target. He also cast a wink towards Xith and Noman as he cast his first knife.

  The wink cost him dearly, for he twitched just as the blade released from his fingers. Pilio’s eyes went wide as the tip struck one of the outstretched fingers of the left hand. Suddenly the room filled with the noise of people shifting heavily in their chairs or coughing. Nijal smiled at Xith and turned to Pilio and shrugged his shoulders. Xith was clearly worried and angry, but he walked over to where Nijal stood and calmly said to him in a low tone, “You must get two more fingers of the left hand. Do not miss.”

  “Or what?” whispered Nijal in jest.

  “Just do it!” snapped Xith, greatly displeased.

  Nijal stared at Xith as he walked away and retook his place beside Noman. The many eyes fixed upon him, quietly watching, bore heavily upon him. He didn’t understand what he had done, but he knew when to listen to Xith. For a very long time, he stood contemplating the dagger in his hand and the target before him. Xith took in a deep breath as the second dagger struck the middle finger.

  As Nijal stood poised with the third dagger, he could feel the room stop with him as if everyone waited to draw in a breath. He closed his eyes; the air was charged about him as he heavily breathed it in. He opened his eyes and fixed on the target, drawing his hand back slowly, releasing only after he calculated the balance of the blade in his hand. “Yes!” he cried as it hit. Xith shook his head at Nijal, who still did not understand the gravity of his situation.

  Pilio was more tedious and cautious than ever as he stood at the ready. He insured the placement of his feet just behind the line, but then he had to insure the validity of the line again, so he paced it off and then repositioned himself. The whole process was long and very meticulous. The joyful expression had long since left Pilio’s face. He closed his eyes in relief as the first took the index finger of the right hand cleanly on mark.

  Pilio paced back and forth as he concentrated on his next mark. He even went so far as to measure the balance of the dagger on the tip of his finger and to check the movement of the air within the room. All of a sudden, he stopped and placed the two remaining daggers he held onto the table, rubbing his sweaty palms until they were dry. Then, after flexing his fingers and cracking each knuckle, he picked up only one of the daggers, moving slowly and methodically back into his stance.

  His face showed displeasure as the knife tumbled from his fingertips, but it hit its mark, and he sighed deeply in relief. He was growing visibly nervous as he placed the last blade carefully in his hand, also insuring its balance before he drew his arm back and released it. The entire process took the better part of a quarter of an hour.

  Astonished as it struck, Pilio rushed to the board to check, as did several onlookers. The tip of the knife had struck directly on the line of the third finger. Being an honest man, the only virtue he held to, Pilio accepted his loss.

  Pilio pulled the blade from the target and handed it to Nijal, saying, “I didn’t mean to offend. Take whichever one you like.” Pilio placed his hands outstretched onto the table. Xith jumped up from his chair and ran towards the two, afraid of what Nijal would do. “We will be quite satisfied with quadruple our original wager.”

  “Quadruple?” asked Pilio, raising his quivering voice high.

  “Quadruple,” replied Xith.

  Pilio sighed, hurriedly pulled from his purse a handful of gold, and passed it to Nijal. He thought the sum was a very fair amount, given the circumstances. “Good match, master,” said Pilio. Xith immediately took Nijal away. The three of them hurriedly left the Clenched-Fist.

  A little confused and slightly hurt, Nijal turned to Xith and said, “I didn’t know.”

  “Never mind,” returned Xith.

  Noman’s response was somewhat gentler than Xith’s and he made a valid point. Xith had not told Nijal all the rules of the game. “I think he did well, quite well, all things considered.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Chancellor Volnej detached himself from the other six. He was alone, pacing heavily across the floor. Many thoughts weighed on his mind: the kingdom was without council, without an heir, and soon to be without a capital. He had watched the keepers fall, the council fall, the priests of the Father fall, noble hearted men fall. His heart could not endure all the pain, nor could his mind.

  He was too weary and old to have the will to go on a prolonged journey of any sort, let alone try to escape. He would only slow the others down and surely cause their capture. His mind was resolved; he would stay in Imtal. In his own way he could not stand to leave it nor could he abide to see it fall, but he was sure that he must stay.

  The venerable chancellor thought of a way to insure that the others would leave him. He thought about it as he listened to them. He had served king and prince and long-ago queen while on the high council. He considered his life to have been very fulfilled and fruitful, but now he saw only an ending before him. As he approached the others, it was Calyin who understood the message upon his face first and she begged him to come with them, but his mind was sternly set.

  “With three, we are seven,” whispered Calyin as she held his hand firmly.

  “No, that is not true. I do not believe I was included in those words. In fact, I am almost positive.”

  “I think the chancellor is correct,” said Swordmaster Timmer. “I also believe my place is here.”

  “As do I. We stay!” said Captain Brodst.

  “No, Captain Brodst, your fate is with them; of this I am also sure. Listen to an old man, who is many years your elder speak to you with wisdom.”

  “Do not worry,” said Timmer, moving towards the chancellor. Timmer also understood the reasons Volnej thought it best to stay. His sword arm was not what it used to be, and if a real fight came, they would not survive it. They needed speed, and on foot they did not need old men to slow them down. “I will take care of Chancellor Volnej. We will find a way through this, but you, my friends, must go. I think together we can get you past the city gates, but beyond it there will just be the five of you, as it was meant to be.”

  Lord Serant’s voice turned icy cold as he stared at Captain Brodst; he could tell that the captain still was not convinced that he should go. “I have never fully accounted what occurred in the square after the struggle and the mysterious two who appeared before us wearing faces very dear to our hearts. I have not even spoken fully of this to Calyin, my beloved wife, for he bade me speak to none until the time had come when the truth could be prolonged no more. But in fact, few ever saw the face of the stranger. Of those they were mostly Geoffrey and his men, who are now twice indebted to the one, if I am correct.”

  Geoffrey lowered his head and then raised it.

  “The remainder who saw him are gone save a few of us here at this very moment. I know questions lie in your minds as they do in mine, and I am also afraid that in truth I know little more than Lord Geoffrey, but I believed then and I wholly and firmly believe now the words that the one called Noman spoke to me. He said, ‘Our paths are coming to an end and a meeting, and our time is at an end and a beginning.’ He spoke of many things quickly and carefully, for he wanted me to remember in full detail when the time came, if it came; but he had little time to tarry. He told me that none would question what they had seen on the square that day beyond what I offered, and no one has. He told me the names of the three I would journey away from the darkness with, and of that I had my doubts, for how could anyone hold the future so well in their hands and still not know it in its entirety? But now the faces stand before me in an hour of grave peril. Geoffrey, Midori, and Captain Brodst.”

  Calyin raised her eyes as if wondering if she had been mentioned.

  “Yes, my dear
, he also said he saw a hand clasped in mine, but not a face and that is you. So you see, Captain Brodst, you must come. Your fate lies with us.”

  “What of the seven the others spoke of?”

  “Of this, I am sure. It will be revealed to us all in good time. Come, we have delayed far too long.”

  Turmoil, the thing they counted on to make their escape possible, was decreasing. The ebbing of the sounds of battle and the emptiness of the halls and courtyards told them this. Although they were still using obscure corridors and rooms, they still expected to meet some resistance as they made their way; however, up to now they found none. They hid themselves some 200 feet from the rear wall of the palace, staring in disbelief at the open, unoccupied gate.

  “There is some trick about. There must be,” whispered Lord Serant.

  “I do not believe so,” replied Volnej.

  “I side with Lord Serant. I do not trust it, but we have no choice but to move forward and soon,” added Geoffrey.

  “Let’s go!” said Midori moving from their guarded spot. Lord Serant put out his arm to halt her. “Wait,” bade Serant. He squinted to the far corner tower. “There, do you see it,” he said pointing.

  “I’ll be,” said Geoffrey as he also caught a glimpse of the forms hiding in the shadows.

  “How do we get past?” asked Captain Brodst, considering the options himself as he asked the question.

  “I see two options: run or take them out.”

  “I’ll vote on running,” quickly stated Timmer, even though he had the least chance of success for such a measure.

  “Surely there are more in waiting. I say we find another way.”

  “I do not believe we have the time. Timmer, Volnej, and Geoffrey, you take the right, and we three will take the left. Captain Brodst, your job is to get their attention.”

  “And then what?” whispered Captain Brodst.

  “Don’t worry; I trust your judgment. We’ll follow.”

  “Thanks, thanks a lot!” muttered Brodst as he crept carefully away from the wall. The others behind him split into two groups as Lord Serant had requested, one moving left and the other right. The captain counted his blessings; at least he knew the back wall better than the others. Stairs stood in each of the towers at either end of the wall with two more narrow staircases on either side of the gates within the guardhouses.

  Captain Brodst was very careful of the sound of his footfalls on the hard-surfaced stairs, but even so the rock carried an echo upward. He was fortunate to know exactly what lay around each turn, and as he passed the last stair, he stopped. He shrank down to all fours and peered around the corner, looking in both directions. He noted two sentries to the left and several more far to the right.

  He watched them for a time, hoping the others were doing likewise before they swept forward. One of the guards, a tall, lanky-looking fellow clad in a loosely fitting robe with a heavy mailed suit beneath, was signaling to someone in the square opposite the palace walls. “Damn it,” cursed Brodst. The man fell as he was clubbed from behind. His companion was quick to follow him.

  Captain Brodst ran forward, still bent over, coming up behind one of those to the right. Before he reached him, Geoffrey had already waylaid his companion and the man was about to scream, but Brodst clipped his tongue just in time. Captain Brodst pulled Geoffrey down behind the wall, signaling for the other two to do likewise.

  “What is it?” asked Geoffrey.

  “In the square there are more. Pray that they did not see your foolishness.”

  “We had to act,” said Geoffrey, but as he turned back, the captain was gone. He had already crept back towards Lord Serant. Fortunately, Lord Serant had the good sense to crouch down after the successful attack. Captain Brodst whispered the news to him, “There are others in the square.”

  “Yes, I know,” replied Lord Serant.

  “Fool, then why did you stand and take him.”

  “The sentry below had turned his back to us.”

  Captain Brodst swallowed any further words. He knew Serant wasn’t a fool, so he should have known better than to think he would be careless in so grave a matter. He thought to offer an apology, but Lord Serant had already turned to other matters.

  “We were not seen, I am sure,” spoke Geoffrey as he reached the place where Captain Brodst perched, peering over the wall ever so slightly.

  “Good, good. Timmer, Volnej?”

  “They watch the stairs at the tower and the guardhouse.”

  “Come, we must be swift. Two more approach,” said Lord Serant, springing to action. He carried everyone with him as he made for the place Timmer watched. Serant issued hurried orders; he supposed that two men were positioned on either side of the gate. Geoffrey and Timmer would take them out. He would go straight for the one who stood in the center of the square. He assumed that that one was the leader, and was the one he had seen signaling the others. Volnej was to make certain that Calyin and Midori reached the far side of the square and the alleyway beyond. And Captain Brodst had the two who approached from the palace proper; he was to take them out as he saw fit, only doing so if it became necessary.

  As Serant reached the bottom landing, he stopped firm, waiting for Geoffrey and Timmer to pass him before he began to move again, meanwhile drawing his sword and a small blade. He touched the two on the shoulder as they passed, so instructing them to halt. He waited for the one to turn his back to him and as he did, Lord Serant whispered, “Go!”

  Lord Serant sprinted across the square, his feet softly striking the stones. His boots lay discarded some distance away. His blade was swift and true as he released it from his hand, dropping the man where he stood. His sword soon followed up to insure that the man was dead. He whispered in his mind as he did so, “Fool, soft leather does little to protect you in battle. Death has found you.”

  Lord Serant carefully scanned the area around the square in a wide circle. He saw Calyin and the other two reach the safety of the dark alley. Timmer and Geoffrey had felled their opponents and were also on their way to hiding. Only Captain Brodst was absent. “Come on,” whispered Serant under his breath. He turned nervously, pausing only to take in the surrounding shadows again. “Come on,” he thought again.

  “Yes,” struck his mind as he saw the captain’s form racing towards him. He retrieved his dagger and relieved the dead one of his blade while he waited for Captain Brodst to catch up to him; then the two crept off across the square.

  From the shadows of many alleys, byways, and small paths the seven stole from the city center toward the postern gates on the lower east side, a direction that Lord Serant hoped would not be as closely watched as the others, since it was not an obvious exit. It had been sealed for decades; furthermore, it lay just off the lower market square in plain view.

  Lord Serant was pleased to see that Calyin and Midori had wisely collected several blades for their own use, so he stashed at his own side the short sword he had obtained; an extra blade would always come in handy. The streets were mostly empty, which did not surprise Lord Serant. His heart sorrowed for the citizens of Imtal, whom he could not protect from King Jarom’s greedy hands, but he vowed to return and amend the situation at the first opportunity. Under other circumstances, he would have thought his deeds cowardly, and cowardice did not sit well with him. But for now, in view of what he had seen, he considered his actions a tactical, necessary retreat.

  Sore bodies carried them and weary legs moved tired feet, but their minds pushed them on beyond their limits. Soon they found themselves on the edge of a small deserted marketplace. Lord Serant marked the progress of the sun as he planned their movements. They would move just after dusk; the wait would not be long. All things considered, he thought this day was the longest of his life. It seemed to him that the sun fought to linger in the skies overhead to prevent darkness from arriving.

  The minutes, or hours, of waiting seemed to go on forever, but darkness eventually began to fall. The air around them had a peace
ful silence as it had since their arrival. The beating of their hearts seemed to echo around them. Their breaths became great bellows and the shifting of their feet a blade on a grindstone. Eyes flickered nervously back and forth, up and down, ever watching.

  “Are you sure you know how to open this?” whispered Brodst to Serant.

  “I am sure,” replied Calyin, speaking before Lord Serant could reply. “A certain boy I knew long ago had taken a fancy to this very exit, or entrance rather—” Her voice died on the last words, and no one heard them save for Serant who was directly beside her.

  “Yes, he did show me,” he softly whispered into Calyin’s ear; his voice was also saddened. “With luck he will return, though I hope not soon. The goings-on would shrivel his heart and pluck out his eyes.”

  The sound of horses’ hooves froze his heart and his lips. Everyone drew tight against the wall, withdrawing into the gray shadows as best they could. Two horsemen broke into the square directly across from their position, coming straight for them. Serant edged back along the shadows, but he held firm for a time, hoping the riders would not come near.