The First Compact: The Karus Saga (The Karus Saga: Book Book 3)

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  Turning, he looked up toward the landing. Ord was gone. In his place, two determined men waited at the top. One had a sword and the other a dagger. Just as Karus registered the dagger, the man flicked his wrist and threw, aiming for Karus’s head. It was a smooth, well-practiced motion. Karus just barely managed to bring his shield up in time and felt the dagger thud home. The point emerged from the back side of the shield, a half inch from his forearm.

  Lowering the shield, Karus continued his advance up the stairs to meet the two men. The one who had thrown the dagger stepped back and away, while the other lunged downward with his sword. Karus deflected the blade to the left and used the side of his shield to pin the man’s sword against the wall. At the same time, he stabbed over the top the shield and into the neck of his opponent. The blade ripped the throat open to the bone. A torrent of blood sprayed outward at him. Karus blinked, momentarily blinded, as blood shot into his eyes. He tasted the strong copper tang of it in his mouth.

  His opponent fell backward, landing hard, before thrashing and kicking out his last. Karus sensed movement behind and glanced back. Tal’Thor was making his way up the stairs. Aven’Terol had clearly gone to help Ugin and Kol’Cara. Behind Tal’Thor and shouting as they came, legionaries from First Cohort began pouring through the door.

  Pleased he wasn’t alone, Karus stepped over the man he’d just killed and onto the landing, were he was greeted by an empty hallway. It was not what he had expected. Karus paused, scanning the way ahead. Two grime-covered glass lanterns mounted on the walls by hooks provided a dim light, barely enough to see. From the stairs, the hallway was fifteen feet in length. Karus counted four doors on either side.

  “Great,” Karus said, for he hated clearing rooms. In his experience, doing so was extremely hazardous.

  “They don’t seem to want to come out,” Tal’Thor said quietly behind him. The elf’s voice was barely above a whisper. “We may have to go in after them.”

  “You think?” Karus glanced back at the elf. Tal’Thor was grinning and seemed as if he were enjoying himself. Shaking his head, Karus took a step forward.

  Above, there was the sudden sound of chopping. Dust drifted down from the ceiling. Flaccus’s boys were at work, cutting their way through the roof. The fight down in the common room was continuing to rage. Shouts, screams, roars from Ugin, and the harsh clash of steel drifted up the stairs to them.

  Tightening his grip on his sword, Karus started down the hallway. The first door to his left was slightly ajar. Using his shield, Karus pushed it open. The room was dark, silent, and small. Nothing stirred. Light from the nearest lamp in the hall showed him it was empty. There was a rope bed without a mattress and some broken furniture … nowhere for someone to hide.

  The door to his right burst open. Karus spun as the man who had thrown the dagger at him came charging out, sword raised and screaming a war cry. Tal’Thor was there, his sword moving impossibly fast. Karus’s attacker never saw the blade coming, as it landed and bit deeply into his neck with a sickening sound.

  Karus twisted aside and out of the way. The attacker’s momentum carried him bodily by and into the room that Karus had just been peering into. Before his attacker even hit the floor, he was dead, his head nearly severed from his body.

  Once again, blood and gore had sprayed over Karus. With the back of his sword arm, he wiped what he could out of his eyes. Karus found his heart racing as he gazed down at the body. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, realizing just how close to death he had come.

  “I guess you could say,” Tal’Thor said, glancing into the room over Karus’s shoulder, “he just about lost his head.”

  “Elf humor?” Karus asked as he turned his gaze down the hallway. He pointed with his sword. “Ord will be in one of the rooms ahead.”

  “Let us go find him, then,” Tal’Thor said. “It’s rude for us to keep him waiting. Perhaps the better word is inconsiderate.”

  “Right.” Hefting his shield, Karus moved down the hallway to the next set of doors. Both had been left open. He peeked first into the room on the left. It was empty. On the right side of the hallway, two bodies lay on the floor. They had clearly been shot from the window, each having taken an arrow to the chest. A third man, no more than a boy barely into his teens, was injured and lying on a bed.

  He’d also taken an arrow to the chest. The missile had gone clean through and he was struggling to breathe, spitting up blood with each agonized breath. The wheezing of his lungs was a pathetic sound that Karus had heard too many times before. The boy would likely not last an hour.

  Anger once again surged in Karus’s breast. The dying boy potentially represented the loss of a good soldier … or really the loss of potential … what could have been. Ord, Logex, and Garvin had seen to that. They had led their people to disaster.

  “Such a bloody waste,” Karus breathed.

  “Indeed.” Tal’Thor slipped past Karus and into the room. Without hesitation, the elf cut the boy’s throat, sawing it open with his sword, nearly to the bone. The youth, eyes going wide, kicked violently as it was done. He gagged as he drowned on his own blood, then went still, eyes fixed and staring in horror at his killer.

  Looking grim, the elf returned to Karus’s side.

  “We elves mourn and detest death,” Tal’Thor said, “but that does not mean one should be allowed to needlessly suffer.”

  “This is a grim business we’re in.” Karus turned his gaze back down the hall and proceeded to the next set of doors. The door on the left was ajar. Using the point of his sword, he pushed it open. The hinges creaked loudly, almost painfully so.

  Empty.

  He turned to the door on the right and tried the latch, lifting it. The door was locked from the inside.

  Karus glanced down to the last set of doors. In the dim light, he couldn’t tell if they were open or closed. He knew there were likely men hiding, waiting to pounce—at least Ord was. He could not proceed until he was sure the locked room was clear. He turned and gave the door a mighty kick. The lock gave and snapped.

  The door crashed open. Inside were two men. One was Ord, who immediately launched himself at Karus with a sword, stabbing out and shouting as he came.

  Bringing his shield up, Karus easily blocked the man’s first strike, which was almost clumsy. Ord’s sword cracked against the shield. The blow hurt, the pain radiating up the back side of his forearm, where it rested against the shield. Karus took a step back to gain space and room to fight. He wanted to draw Ord out into the hallway, where there was more room. As he did, two more men emerged from a room at the end of the hall and started for him.

  Before they could advance, Karus leaned forward and jabbed a strike at Ord, who had lunged out into the hall for another try at Karus. The tip of Karus’s blade stabbed deeply into Ord’s hip. Dropping his sword and gripping his damaged hip, Ord cried out and hobbled back into the room.

  The men at the end of the hall charged. Karus turned to face them, bringing his shield around and up as he retreated two steps back. Thankfully, the hallway was not large enough for two to fight abreast.

  There was just enough room for one, and Karus had a shield. This was his kind of fighting, straightforward and far from fair. There was nothing deadlier than a trained legionary armed with a shield and short sword. He settled into a combat stance, braced himself, and allowed the first man to close. The second was fast on the first’s heels.

  Thunk.

  Ignoring the pain from the strike against his shield, Karus immediately shoved back, taking three quick steps forward and pushing with all his strength. The move was unexpected. Both attackers were close to one another … too close. With one’s momentum going backward and the other forward, they crashed together. Karus gave another powerful shove and both men went down in a tumble of arms and legs.

  Pulling his shield aside, he jabbed, stabbing down, taking one squarely in the stomach. He stabbed again for good measure, feeling his blade go deep and through to
the floor below, where the point impacted with the wood planking. Mouth open in a silent scream, the mortally wounded man curled up on Karus’s blade, gripping it with bloody hands. Karus yanked back, severing fingers as his sword came free. The injured man choked in intense agony, rolled onto his side in a fetal position, and vomited blood onto the floor.

  The second attacker had lost his sword and was scooting backward on his butt, attempting to get away. Karus advanced, stepping over his first victim. He jabbed, stabbing the man in the leg before he could scoot farther away and get his feet under him. Wounded, the man cried out as the blade pierced his thigh.

  “No,” the man screamed in Common. “Please. I want to live.”

  Ignoring the pleading, Karus drove a second jab into his neck. The man collapsed, dead, his personal story ended on the second floor of a seedy tavern in an abandoned city. Karus felt no regrets about that. He, like the others in this tavern, had earned his fate.

  Behind, Tal’Thor finished the first man off.

  “A grim business, indeed,” Tal’Thor said.

  Before Karus could respond, the man who had been in the room with Ord emerged and launched a furious assault, hammering the shield repeatedly with sword strikes. Flecks flew into the air with each strike against the shield. So furious was the assault, that Karus retreated a step. The man came on, moving with him. Stepping carefully back, Karus allowed his attacker to step over the body of the man he had just killed. Once he had, Karus stopped retreating and pushed forward with his shield. So caught up in the attack was his new opponent that he was thrown off balance and he tripped over the body, falling onto his back. Karus pounced on him, stabbing down and into his collar, just above the armor breastplate he wore. A second stab, this one deeper, ended the man’s life too.

  “That was a little spirited.” Karus was breathing heavily. He glanced back at Tal’Thor, who gave him an encouraging nod. Karus once again moved forward and stepped into the room Ord had retreated back into.

  He found Ord sitting on the floor, leaning his back against the wall, which was badly stained and in need of painting. Blood formed a growing pool around him. He held a hand to his damaged hip. Face pale, he grimaced in pain as he looked up at Karus.

  “You’ve killed me,” Ord said through gritted teeth. “You’ve killed me, you bastard.”

  “Where’s Logex?” Karus asked. “Tell me and I will make your death quick.”

  “Piss off,” Ord spat. “I’m already dead. It’s just a matter of when, now.”

  Karus glanced back toward the door. Tal’Thor was there, keeping watch. Sounds of the fight below could still be heard as it raged unabated. Overhead, with a crunch, an axe broke through. Karus looked up as part of the ceiling was ripped away and chunks of dislodged roofing tile fell to the floor. In the near darkness, Karus could see someone gazing down into the room from above, but not who.

  “Karus,” Flaccus called down. “Is that you?”

  “Took your bloody time,” Karus said and turned his attention back to Ord. He felt an intense stab of anger bubble up. “I gave you a chance and now you will pay.”

  “You gave us a chance to be your lapdogs.” Ord spat bloody spittle at Karus’s feet and then groaned in pain. “My people are proud, free, subject to no one.”

  “Proud they may be,” Karus said, “but now you have led them into slavery. Take that thought with you into the next life.”

  “Get on with it,” Ord spat, “and stop wasting my time.”

  Give him to me, the sword hissed. He will suffer beyond imagining. Let me take his soul.

  Karus felt his anger toward Ord surge to new levels. The sword burst into flame, blue tongues of fire licking at the air. Karus’s loathing for this man was strong. Ord’s eyes went wide, and he attempted to draw back, clearly afraid. Needing no further encouragement, Karus stabbed the man in the chest, thrusting hard. The sword went in, as easily as if he were stabbing a sack of hay on the training ground. There was a sizzling sound and the sword hilt grew warm in his hand.

  Ord’s eyes went dull as the light of life faded from his gaze. His head slumped to the side and he gave a soft sigh as the last gasp of life escaped. Karus drew the blade back. Incredibly, Ord’s blood boiled off the burning steel blade. When all the blood was gone, Karus turned his gaze back to the dead man and somehow felt unfulfilled.

  The rage slackened. Killing Ord had not made up for Dio’s loss. He knew it never would. Till his dying day, Dio’s death would be an open wound.

  “That is a dread weapon,” Tal’Thor said quietly. “Use Rarokan with care, for should you grow too fond of the sword, something terrible may come of it.”

  “Terrible?” Karus gazed down at the burning sword. There was no reply from the sword. Karus looked to the doorway, but Tal’Thor had already turned and left the room. He was moving down the hall, clearly intent on checking the last two rooms.

  “Karus,” Flaccus said from above, his head poking through the hole, which had been widened. “Is that Ord?”

  “It is,” Karus said, glancing down at the body.

  “Serves the bastard right,” Flaccus said, then eyed Karus’s burning sword. “How did you get it to do that?”

  Karus did not feel like answering. “Get down here with your men. The fight’s not over yet.”

  “Yes, sir,” Flaccus said, pulling his head back. “You men, widen that hole more.”

  Stepping back out into the hallway, Karus saw that Tal’Thor had finished checking the last two rooms.

  “There’s no one else,” the elf said.

  “Logex must be downstairs in the main fight,” Karus said and headed back the way they had come, stepping over and around bodies. The wood planking in the hallway was slick with blood and gore. He made sure to step carefully so as to not slip. This was more difficult than it sounded, for his sandals and feet were thoroughly wet. In truth, Karus felt like he had bathed in his opponents’ blood, for he was literally covered by it and it was not a comfortable feeling.

  When he got to the bottom step of the stairs, he found the fight below petering out. The common room was filled with legionaries. Bodies lay all around. At the center of it was Ugin. The Vass’s fur was drenched in blood. When the last man went down, a heartbeat after Karus emerged from the stairs, Ugin leaned his head back and gave a mighty roar of exultation.

  Sheathing his sword, Karus scanned the room. Incredibly, he saw only two legionaries down and injured. One had a cut on his forearm and another a stab wound to the leg, which he held with both hands as he rocked on the floor and moaned. Karus had expected their casualties to be far greater and immediately felt a vast wave of relief.

  “Pammon,” Karus snapped, spotting the centurion. “Get the wounded help. Ord is upstairs. He’s dead. Find Logex. He must be down here.”

  “Yes, sir,” Pammon said and turned to two legionaries. “You two, help the wounded to the surgeon.”

  The two men started forward as Pammon began moving about the room, searching amongst the dead and injured for Logex.

  “What?” Karus asked Ugin when he noticed the Vass looking his way. The Vass’s gaze was intense, almost suspicious.

  “You were upstairs?” Ugin asked him. It sounded more like a statement than a question.

  “They’re all dead up there,” Karus said, “no more for you to kill.”

  Ugin scowled slightly, then made for the stairs, roughly pushing aside two legionaries who had just made their way down from the roof. Karus wondered why the Vass bothered, but then put it from his mind. He wanted Logex and began checking the wounded and dead. He rolled one man over halfway that he thought had the same build, but was disappointed.

  Straightening, Karus glanced around the room. Something was not quite right. The number of holdouts seemed considerably less than the intelligence indicated. He saw no more than twenty refugees.

  “He’s not here, sir,” Pammon said, after a quick search. “The bastard’s got away.”

  Karus felt the intens
e sting of anger that Logex had somehow escaped.

  “He’s probably out in the city, sir,” Pammon said. “He must have somehow gotten through our cordon.”

  There was a growl at the stairs. Ugin had come back down. Behind him was Flaccus. The Vass seemed enraged that there were no more to fight.

  “Sir,” a legionary called for Karus’s attention, “over here. Look at this.”

  A ratty rug was lying near the fireplace. The legionary had pulled it aside, exposing a trap door that had been cut into the wood planking. Pammon stepped forward and pulled a metal ring affixed to the door. With effort, he swung it open, the rusted hinges protesting loudly.

  Darkness greeted them, as did a flow of cold air that rushed up and into the room, along with the smell of mold and dust. Karus grabbed a lantern from its hook on the wall and brought it over, shining the light downward. He had expected perhaps a basement.

  “A bloody tunnel,” Karus said, gazing down into the hole. He could see it was wide enough for a single man and appeared old, ancient even.

  “This city seems full of tunnels,” Flaccus said. “Everywhere we turn there is a tunnel.”

  “Was Rome any different?” Pammon said as he straightened.

  “We’re close to the city wall.” Flaccus squatted next to the tunnel entrance and peered into it. “The tunnel moves off in that direction … toward the wall. If I had to guess, this tunnel is likely for smuggling things in or out of the city.”

  With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Karus gave a nod. Logex had most certainly escaped. Bloody gods! The man had gotten away.

  “You won’t find them,” a wounded holdout laughed. “Logex has escaped you.”

  Two legionaries were standing over the man, guarding him. He was sitting up and holding his stomach tightly, which had been ripped completely open. The prisoner was attempting with little success to keep his intestines in. Blood flowed thickly through his fingers, onto his legs, and then to the dirty floor.