Lakhoni held still. “You won’t take me alive.”
“I will.”
Gimno slashed, quicker than the eye could see. Lakhoni saw the movement in the man’s eyes and twisted while moving his dagger to deflect the attack.
Gimno nodded. “You remember.”
Lakhoni smiled grimly, never taking his gaze from the man’s eyes. “Everything. And more.”
“You cannot best me,” Gimno said again.
“We will see.” Every movement, every attack. He envisioned them all, knowing how Gimno would fight. And I just have to get away. As long as they don’t have me, Alronna’s safe.
Gimno cocked his head. “You don’t even have your first kill, do you?”
“I will soon.” Lakhoni twisted left, as if to move into position for a low slash, but as soon as Gimno countered with a leap and thrust, he straightened and slashed at the tall man’s right side. Immediately he forced his body into a tight curve and allowed Gimno’s countering slash to sail wide.
Lakhoni rocked forward as Gimno brought his arm back, feinting for Gimno’s other side, but then scored a deep slash on the man’s knife arm. He twisted his hips, dropping a foot back slightly and raised his dagger to the ready position again.
Gimno stepped back, eyes wide. “Formidable servant indeed.” Surprise dripped from the man’s voice along with something else. Lakhoni didn’t know if it was fear or respect. Gimno glanced at his side, where a thin line of blood now oozed, and then his arm. The man’s eyes no longer danced with laughter.
Lakhoni waited. He pushed all thought from his mind. The heat of rage in his middle acted as a counterpoint to the cold focus he found. He drew upon the rage to burn doubt and fear away. Resolve took their place.
Perhaps twenty seconds had passed since they first traded attacks.
He drew a final thought into his mind: a memory of the fury and grief the day after his village was destroyed, then dancing for his loved ones, the young man’s murder, Simra’s tender touch. A moment of perfect stillness: the stone beneath him, evening breeze stirring the warm air of the quickly darkening room. Lakhoni willed his rage into an inferno. Gimno had been a part of it all along. Gimno was guilty of murder just as much as Shelu and the Bonaha.
Lakhoni swept into motion, feinting high then twisting low. A flurry of slashes, parries, kicks, and punches. Gimno arced back; Lakhoni’s blade cut air. Lakhoni directed his dagger down toward the man’s stomach, aiming a knee at his groin. Gimno sprang backward, flipping over in a smooth motion—kicking out as he went. Not quite fast enough to dodge, Lakhoni felt the impact in his knife arm, but held onto his blade. He twisted with the attack, forced to take two steps back.
With a whisper of movement, Gimno stood again, dagger at the ready. Lakhoni feinted a slash to Gimno’s left arm, twisted, and feinted again—this time at Gimno’s chest. He parried a blow with his wrist, then drove his blade toward Gimno’s face.
Gimno took a small step to his left, his knife hand reaching for Lakhoni’s side.
Lakhoni spun away, dancing back to regain his balance.
Gimno’s foot caught him as he leapt away, right behind his knee. Lakhoni spun with the movement, but still fell.
A little harder and my knee would be shattered. He rolled backward once and pushed to his feet.
Gimno’s lips stretched thin in a grim smile. “Well done.” He glided forward and launched a series of feints that ended in Lakhoni stumbling back again. Blood oozed from another slice across Lakhoni’s right shoulder. “But I have had enough play.” Gimno danced closer again.
An exchange of blows, loud grunts, blossoming pain along Lakhoni’s left ribs. The warriors parted.
“Stop!” Alronna’s voice cut through Lakhoni’s crisp focus. Gimno turned to her.
“No, Ronna.” Lakhoni crouched low. “Say nothing!”
“Please don’t kill him! I’ll tell you! Just leave us alone,” Alronna’s voice shattered on the last sentence. Fury erupted through Lakhoni’s veins at the sight of his formerly strong, bossy sister, broken and empty.
“Alronna,” Lakhoni said, “if you tell them, they’ll kill both of us.”
“I watched them kill mother and father!” Her sobs dripped through the throne room. “I won’t watch them kill you.”
“Please, Alronna. You can’t.” He envisioned his next moves, set each motion firmly in his mind.
“In the western mountains. A cave.” She stared at Gimno, tears flowing. “Let him go and I will show you.” Something in her tone, in the way she held her body, caught Lakhoni’s attention. Lakhoni knew his sister, had seen her fake her way through stories for years. This was an act.
He watched his sister in amazement. A moment ago she had been broken, now she was fooling Gimno and the other halkeen. And she was doing it to keep him alive. No, Ronna. I’m here to rescue you, not the other way around.
“Find the Bonaha,” Gimno said, directing the order at the halkeen. “Tell him. We will leave immediately.” The halkeen began to drag Alronna toward the door.
“You have to let him go! You said you would let him go!” Alronna’s voice cracked.
“I said nothing,” Gimno replied. “But you don’t need this brother. We have another.”
Alronna’s screams slashed into Lakhoni’s mind as halkeen muscled her toward the door.
Another brother? Lamorun? Impossible. But then what the Bonaha had said earlier came to him. That the other had not spoken yet. Lamorun? Furious hope flared, but he forced it down. If they had Lamorun somehow, after all these years, what had become of his brother?
Lakhoni shoved the thought away, focusing on Gimno, setting his next moves back into his mind, seeing them clearly. He backed toward the portal to the king’s balcony. They had Alronna. He had to get away from them, get ahead of them as they left the city, steal Alronna away. Or if nothing else, find the Sword first, somehow. But he had to move fast.
Gimno’s smile stretched across his red-dyed face. “Are you ready to meet the Great Spirit, formidable servant?”
“You first.” Lakhoni dipped a shoulder and barreled at Gimno.
Gimno barked a laugh. “Childish!” He opened his stance and held his knife at the ready.
Right before he reached Gimno, Lakhoni spun on his left foot and slipped the hard edge of his right foot at Gimno’s side. Gimno took a tiny step and avoided the kick.
But Lakhoni had not stopped. He pushed off the cold stone floor with his left foot, launching himself at the wall outside the balcony portal. His knee bent, his leg thrumming with tension, he pushed of the wall. A feather leap.
The force and speed of his reversal caught Gimno off guard. Lakhoni slammed into the tall man, his dagger aimed at the man’s stomach. But, faster than the eye could follow, Gimno twisted, muscles as lithe as a panther. Gimno caught Lakhoni around the neck with his right arm as tight as leather drying in the sun. In the same movement, the tall man flipped his knife to his left hand.
Lakhoni pushed against the hold, punching Gimno in the side and driving his dagger at the man’s stomach. Gimno tightened his grip, his dagger plunging toward Lakhoni’s inner leg.
Now. Lakhoni threw his weight into Gimno’s grip, no longer pulling away. The next moment, Lakhoni bent his legs low. Gimno fell slightly off balance and was pulled down somewhat. Lakhoni jabbed at Gimno’s dagger hand, scoring a line across the wrist and threw himself down and backward.
Lakhoni hit the stone ground first, but used his momentum to roll backward, tucking his legs between him and Gimno. Harvesting the strength from every muscle in his body, he shoved hard, launching Gimno over him and out onto the balcony. At the same moment, Lakhoni slashed at Gimno’s inner thigh.
Gimno tumbled as Lakhoni flung himself to his feet. In a moment, his former teacher stood again, still holding his dagger. Pale white light from a waning moon just above the ocean lent extra shadows to the man’s face. Gimno grinned. “Is that your only tr—”
Lakhoni watched Gimno’s eyes
go wide. Gimno look downward to where blood streamed down his leg. Then his leg buckled.
On his knees, the strength leaving his muscles, Gimno met Lakhoni’s gaze again. “Formidable.” Gimno’s dagger clattered to the stone of the balcony, a sharp sound that sliced the air. A slow smile creased Gimno’s cheeks. “You have a bite now.” Gimno slumped forward, then fell on his face.
Chapter 48
The Wall
First kill. He thought of Vena and the others in Gimno’s circle. They were likely all in the army surrounding the city. A pang of guilt struck. Would Vena ever know what became of Gimno? I took him from her. But I had to. Unsure of how he should feel, Lakhoni let the reality sink in. In the last . . . hour? Less? More? I am nephew to the king. My family are guardians of the two most powerful objects in the land. Were the other dog-boys safe?
He had to move. Alronna was in the clutches of the Bonaha and his murderous servants. Soon, the entire capital city would be under their control, making it worse than impossible to rescue Alronna from the evil men’s possession.
Lakhoni spun, scouring the throne room, furiously planning his next move.
Ree and Alronna ran through the door. Ree held one of the heavy candle stands and was breathing hard.
Shock speared Lakhoni, paralyzing him.
“Don’t just stand there,” Ree shouted. “We have to go!”
“Ree?” He looked from Ree’s round face to Alronna’s exhausted, gaunt face. “Alronna? How?”
Alronna’s eyes were wide. “Right when we got in the hallway, the red man fell. I turned, and she was there.”
Ree held the candle stand up. “I followed you.” She smiled. “He never saw me.” She shook the heavy metal object. “And he never saw this. But he felt it.”
“You were supposed to be escaping!” Lakhoni said. He swept Alronna into a tight hug.
She squeezed him quickly, then pushed him back. “Let’s go.”
“Yes,” Lakhoni met Ree’s gaze. “Thank you.” Everything threatened to spill out, but there was no time.
Ree grinned fiercely. “I knew she was your sister. I’d seen her before.”
“We have to get out and get you safe.” Lakhoni led them toward the door, grabbing a candle stand for himself. It was surprisingly well balanced, with heavy weights on both ends. “Then I have to stop them. They can’t be allowed to find the sword.”
“You have to stop them?” Ree asked.
“We’ll all go after them,” Alronna said.
“But you can’t,” Lakhoni said. “I came all this way to rescue you and—”
“I can.” Alronna stopped next to Lakhoni as they studied the hallway. “I heard them say it too, you know.”
“About another one? Another brother?” Lakhoni asked. “Who might know where the sword is?”
Alronna didn’t say anything but held Lakhoni’s gaze. “It might be Lamorun.”
“They said he died in the last war with the Usurpers,” Lakhoni said. “And how would they know who Lamorun was?” The answer came to him immediately. Lamorun had looked like a twin to their father. If Shelu or anyone close to the king had spotted Lamorun, he would have been recognizable as related.
“What? What is it?” Alronna had seen something in his expression.
“Later, first let’s get out.” He looked at Ree. “Which way?”
Ree’s lips were tight. She shook her head. “The whole city is panicking. The guards will never let me out with a slave girl.” She slammed the candle holder against a stone wall. “With you all covered in blood, that will make things worse.”
She was right. Lakhoni studied the throne room and looked past Gimno’s body to the terrace.
“There has to be a way,” Alronna said. She lifted a candle holder now too, but struggled to carry it. She was so weak!
“There is,” Lakhoni said. “I will distract them and try to catch up to the Bonaha. I think they’ll go out the north gate, since that’s the quickest way to go west. Meet me out there.”
“What? Meet you out where?” Alronna asked, reaching for him.
Lakhoni dodged and ran across the throne room toward the balcony. “Outside the gate. Ree, get her out!”
“I will!” Ree called after him.
Sparing a momentary glance at Gimno’s still form, Lakhoni darted to the balcony’s inner edge. The balcony was seven paces wide and ran the entire length of this side of the temple. The outside edge of the balcony was where the tall step-like structure he had seen earlier began, running down the entire front of the building. He assumed the balcony ran all the way around the exterior of this top level. The moment he stepped away from the wall, the archers above would see him and the soldiers below would alert the archers—
No time! He had to use the huge blocks that made a giant’s staircase. He darted out from the wall, shooting a glance up and behind. Shouts came from the entry just behind him. “Stop him! Assassin!”
A moment later, an arrow whizzed by him as he dodged left. Weaving like a puppy with one front and one back leg, he ran to the outer edge of the balcony and jumped.
His heart slipped sideways, then grabbed hold of his throat in the second of terror when he thought he had miscalculated. He made out the stone platform below him a moment before he hit. He instinctively rolled to absorb the impact, but was going too fast.
He dropped over the platform’s edge, toward the next one.
Twenty hand lengths, a single heartbeat, then impact. His left shoulder flared with a sudden gout of fire that instantly stretched down his arm and up his neck. A grunt escaped his lips. Then ice, followed by stinging pain in his side. The arrow’s jagged tip shattered on the stone beneath him.
He dropped again. This landing was better, but still painful. Every cut and bruise on his body screamed with the impact. Shouts rose up behind him.
Lakhoni joined in. “Assassins!” He pointed up. “Assassins from the Separated!”
He dropped to the next level. Two, maybe three to go until the ground. Each impact jarred his wounds, his bones. “Assassins!”
He dreaded the next drop, but forced himself to move. Another arrow flew over his head. “No! They’re inside the temple!”
The final drop hurt less. Lakhoni pushed himself toward the gate. He called out, “They’re trying to escape! Assassins! In league with the Living Dead!”
The soldiers at the gate, obviously taken aback at one of the king’s servants leaping down the outside of the temple, said nothing. Lakhoni kept going, hurtling for the gate leading to the city. Several more soldiers stood between Lakhoni and the temple door, none of them appearing to know what to do about the crazed servant running at them. Lakhoni swept the legs out from under one, spun past two more, and simply barreled over the last one. More shouts rose behind him as he emerged into the city, heading toward the north gate.
He shouted again, hoping to draw as many soldiers after him as possible. Please get out safely.
The plaza stood empty as Lakhoni dashed across it. The denizens of the city had obviously decided that home was the safest place for them on this night. The absence of the usual noise and bustle left an almost tangible emptiness behind.
Body weary, legs feeling like willow branches, Lakhoni pushed himself to go faster. If he was fast enough, he might even be able to get ahead of the Bonaha, somehow stop him. Digging deeply, he poured his strength and will into his legs. He forced concern for Cho, Balon, and Falon out of his mind.
Behind him he heard running and shouting. A glance told him soldiers were in pursuit. It was working.
It couldn’t have been more than three or four minutes of all-out running later when he came near the north gates, where soldiers stood at varying stages of attention. Exhaustion threatened to lay him low and the soldiers behind him were gaining. The gates had been opened, but now closed with a deep thud.
Lakhoni stopped, dumbstruck with despair. How was he going to get out now? Ree knew the city; she would find a way to meet him. But he had no
place to go. And the Bonaha had escaped.
At least ten compound soldiers broke into view from around the closest block.
“Stop him! He’s one of the dog-servants that knifed the king!” The voice of the soldier he had knocked down.
No use protesting. Lakhoni studied his surroundings quickly.
“Halt,” came a commanding voice behind him. He guessed the soldiers were perhaps ten paces away. “Halt in the name of the king.”
“Take him!” cried the soldier from the compound.
Lakhoni pushed himself to move. Sweat dripped into the cuts Gimno had doled out, adding a constant sting to each movement. He darted left, heading for the stairs that led up to the city wall. Only one way out now.
A line of ice opened up on his left side, followed by razor-sharp stinging. Cursing his exhaustion, he dodged and weaved, bouncing off building walls. Arrows skittered and clicked on the stones.
“Stop him!” The shouts came from multiple soldiers now. “He killed the king!”
Lakhoni noticed the irony of his predicament. If I am executed for doing what I failed to do . . . He reached the stairs, still brandishing his dagger, and tripped the soldier who stood on the bottom step. Offering a silent prayer of gratitude to the First Fathers for the falling darkness, Lakhoni twisted left and right, moving as unpredictably as he could.
An arrow shattered on the city wall. Splinters of wood and rock pricked his skin, one only just missing his right eye. He glanced up and found two soldiers on the stairs, both wielding spears. Several more soldiers ran toward him on the wall nearby.
He ran full tilt up the stairs as the two soldiers lowered their spears. A movement came to his mind. When he was within two steps of the spear points, Lakhoni spun right, slashing out with his dagger. The spear on that side spread wide and Lakhoni spun more, pinning the spear against the man, then the wall. He kicked out at the other soldier, sending him, shrieking, off the stairs.
Three more strides and he reached the top. He immediately turned left on the walkway—toward where the city wall met the huge mountains. Three soldiers barred the way. An arrow floated up, but didn’t have the speed or trajectory to do any harm. It wafted over the wall to land somewhere on the other side.
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