D & D - Red Sands (35 page)

She held the bottle high in the air. "What is this, Phraxa?"

A scraping sound filled the courtyard. Marix plucked a torch from the wall and waved it over the ground. "Here!" he called.

Scratched in the sand was a word: CURE.

"Can we trust him?" said Marix. "It might be poison."

"I don't think so," Jadira replied. "I understand. Phraxa wants to do Frolder an injury." Invisible fingers stroked her cheek. It was a queer, disturbing sensation, but Jadira forced a smile and said, "We understand. Thank you."

Marix cut each of their companions loose. He and Jadira laid them carefully on the ground. Jadira held Uramettu's head and put the neck of the bottle to her slack lips. "I don't know how much to give," she said. Marix shook his head. Jadira poured a small measure in Uramettu's mouth. "Swallow," she said, squeezing the black woman's throat slightly.

The light of reason returned to Uramettu's face. "Keep to my back, little thief, and we'll hold them off—" She sat up suddenly. "Jadira? You're back? It's night! What happened?"

"A very long story. We're in danger."

"Same as it ever was, eh?"

They dosed Tamakh, Elperex, and Nabul with the potion. Each one came to thinking he was still at the exact moment he had lost his wits.

"... dispel this evil in Agma's name!"

"I can't see them! How can I fight them when I can't see them?"

"I sense the heat of their flesh! There and there—!"

"On your feet everyone!" said Jadira. "It's time we left this place."

Flames gushed from a higher section of the citadel. Someone had set the wooden structure afire. They watched aghast as the flames licked quickly along the shingled gables. The hand of the unseen Phraxa tugged on Jadira's robe. It pulled her toward the opposite wall.

"He wants us to go this way," she said.

A soldier ran in, wielding a short spear. Uramettu grabbed the weapon by the shaft and slung the Maridan-tan into the wall. His helmet didn't save him, and he collapsed, leaving a deep dent in the wood. Uramettu stripped him of spear, shield, and short sword. The latter she offered to Nabul.

Phraxa jerked impatiently on Jadira's robe. "Come on!" she said.

Smoke was filling the corridors when they entered. Maids and footmen ran pell-mell through the reek, clutching valuables and coughing. The invisible Phraxa led them down the hall, up a twisting set of steps and left them standing before a wide oak door.

"What's this?" said Marix.

"I don't know, but I think we're supposed to go in," said Jadira. She pounded the panels with her fist. "Too solid. We can't break it down with our bare hands."

"Wait!" said Nabul. "This is my specialty." He knelt-in front of the door and ran quick fingers over the black iron lock. Taking off his left sandal, he extracted a length of iron wire from the sole.

"So! That's why you insisted on keeping those city-sandals," said Tamakh.

Nabul put the pick-lock in the slot under the latch. He worked it round and pulled down the handle. The door swung in.

"Easy as clay," he said.

The room was an armory, with all types of weapons standing in racks and lying on tables. The companions helped themselves. Elperex hopped over a stand of swords. He chirped with delight. Nabul came to see what excited him so.

"The efreet bow," he said. He gave it to Jadira.

Elperex also found something for his own use: a rolled up net of finely stranded hemp, the edges of which were weighted for throwing.

The skylight overhead blossomed red with fire. Ash and hot cinders sprinkled down on them. "Out, out!" yelled Marix.

In the corridor, a group of soldiers blocked the way. Uramettu, Marix, and Nabul moved to the fore, as they were best armed to meet them. Tamakh stood back with Jadira. He tried to cast his glamor over the Maridantans, but the noise was too great for his spell to be heard.

"I see we shall have to do this the old-fashioned way," said Uramettu.

"Hai-yah!" cried Marix, bounding forward with a kick. His blade clashed with a soldier's, rebounded, whirled, and caught up the foe's point. Marix lunged. In the narrow hallway, the Maridantan couldn't avoid his thrust. The keen tip passed through the brigandine. Marix recovered, and the soldier fell, blood pumping from his pierced heart.

Uramettu fought off a pair of men with her longer spear. Nabul made a lot of noise and jumped up and down, but never closed with his opponent. In the end, it wasn't necessary; the fire above burned through the ceiling beams. The upper floor cracked and fell on them.

"Back out! This way!" Jadira said. Separated by flaming beams, the soldiers and companions drew apart. More burning logs joined the heap, and everyone fled for their lives.

Somehow they reached the outer wall of the barrow. The only way down the hill, the baffled gate, was clogged with screaming, desperate people, retainers and soldiers alike. They jammed the narrow gap so tightly no one could escape.

"Can we go over the wall?" asked Nabul.

"We're at the top of a tall hill," saidjadira. "The fall would break our necks."

The uppermost portion of the citadel, flaming logs standing out in the night like burning bones, collapsed to one side and broke apart. An avalanche of hot debris slid into the bailey, sending the packed crowd into new paroxysms.

Uramettu leaned into a section of the palisade. She pushed and rocked the rough-hewn logs. The others fell in beside her and assisted. Soon the section of wall was wobbling in and out.

"Now, together, push!" Uramettu said. The wall went down with a splintering crack. "Get on!"

The five clambered on, with Elperex flying close overhead. On the left Uramettu and Tamakh dug in their feet; on the right, Marix and Jadira did likewise. At a count of three, they shoved off.

The section, six oak logs pegged together with planks and pins, slid down the steep earthen bank. Gouts of dirt flew in their faces, while stones and jagged splinters of wood tore at them with every bump and bound.

"We're going to hit! We're going to hit!" yelled Nabul frantically.

Everyone could see the ditch rushing to meet them. Jadira clutched Marix; Marix grabbed Nabul. Uramettu kept a hand on Nabul and one on Tamakh. Overhead, Elperex screeched wildly.

The wall section hit bottom. The pins gave way, and the whole assembly flew to pieces.

The Lame Count

It was daylight when Jadira next knew the world. She was on her back in the dirt and bright sunshine was in her eyes. Marix was lying across her waist, unconscious. She moved her right hand and felt wood. A log as wide as her leg had buried its sharpened peak in the dirt and pivoted overhead, finally smashing down a hand-width away from her head. She blessed Mitaali and tried to sit up. Pain lanced through her chest, and she decided it wasn't worth the effort.

"Marix," she cried hoarsely. "Marix, can you hear me?"

He groaned. Shaking his head, he got to his hands and knees. "Are you all right?" asked Jadira.

Marix put a hand to his chest and inhaled. "All is well. I seemed to have landed softly."

"Yes, on top of me."

"Oh! Are you hurt?" He stretched out alongside her.

"My ribs. I may have broken them."

Coughing nearby proved that Nabul lived. Then he said, "Elperex? Where are you, monkey?"

"Nabul, come here," Marix called.

The thief, his clothing hanging in tatters and his eyepatch askew, stumbled into view. His good eye was well blacked. "Have you seen Elperex?" he said vaguely.

"No," Jadira and Marix said in unison.

"Can't find the little monkey. Hope he's not dead. Was going to train him to be a thief. . . what a second-story man he'd make. Small . . . can fly . . ."

"Sit down, Nabul. I think your brain has been scrambled," said Jadira.

At the top of the barrow, smoke poured out of the ruined citadel. Shading her eyes, Jadira could see other segments of the stockade had been thrown down by fleeing inhabitants.

A large figure obscured the sun. Uramettu looked down and said, "My sister, are you hurt?"

"In my ribs. Where's Tamakh?"

"Over there, resting. He broke his arm, but I straightened it and put on a splint."

"Elperex? Elperex?" Nabul called in an odd, off-key voice.

"See to the thief," said Uramettu to Marix. "I will tend Jadira."

Marix took Nabul aside and picked splinters out of his scalp. Nabul had a swelling the size of a goose egg on the crown of his head. Marix sat him down and ordered him keep still, while he shaded him from the sun and fanned him with the tail of his burnoose.

"This will hurt," Uramettu warned. With a hunter's wisdom, she knew the only treatment for cracked ribs was a tight bandage. White-lipped, Jadira nodded that she was ready. Uramettu lifted her just enough to slip a broad band of cloth under her. Jadira clenched her eyes shut and smothered a scream in her throat. Uramettu let her down as gendy as possible. She pulled the bandage across and split the ends.

"Inhale as deeply as you can bear," she said. Jadira sucked in her breath carefully. Uramettu quickly tied the bandage ends. Jadira let out her breath, and the cloth strip caught her. "Y>u won't die, my sister. "You are too strong to do that."

"Ai," she said. "It hurts too much to be fatal."

Elperex flapped in with a flurry of wings. "Walking friends!" he said shrilly. "Many walking humans in iron approach from the north. Many more go with them on the backs of horses!"

"Faziris?" asked Jadira. Elperex didn't know the difference. "Do they carry any banners or pennants?"

"Yes, a cone of black with stripes of yellow, like the tail of a hornet."

Marix heard and came over. "That's the standard of Maridanta. Count Tedwin is near."

"Is this count friend or foe?" said Uramettu.

"That depends on who survived the fire," saidjadira.

They sent Elperex to keep an eye on the oncoming army. Meanwhile, the other companions extracted themselves from the wreckage at the bottom of the ditch. Tamakh's right arm hung from a crude sling around his neck. Uramettu had bound strips of oak around the broken limb. Nabul was still befuddled, but able to walk. He and Marix carried Jadira between them up the less steep slope of the counterscarp into the wattle-hut village of Vitgis.

The muddy streets were clogged with the dead and injured. Little difference was made between them; often they lay side by side. Helpful villagers washed faces and tended burns of the victims. No one paid the companions any heed.

Elperex returned. "The Hornet People are at the town fence," he reported. "A twisted man in black leads

them."

"Tedwin the Lame," said Marix.

"Since we've no time to hide and no strength to flee, there's no point avoiding him," said Jadira. "Shall we go to meet His Lordship?"

The tired, battered companions limped down the main street to the village baffle. Once outside, they saw the host of Maridanta drawn up in battle array. At the front of his troops was Count Tedwin. His cuirass was lacquered in black. A soft velvet hat swept low over his thick, black eyebrows. He rode a black horse with his bad leg draped over a special saddlehorn. A blond giant clad in mirror-bright armor stood by his lord with a drawn six-span sword. The standard of Maridanta whipped in the wind over the giant's head.

Marix moved out in front of his friends. Dirty and smoke-stained, he still managed to convey the attitude of an aristocrat in his stance. He bowed in the shallow western style and said, "Hail, my Lord Tedwin."

"Who are you?" said the lame count. Unlike his sister's, his voice was smooth and powerful.

"Marix, third son of Count Fernald of Dosen."

"Indeed. What has happened here? Where is my sheriff, Frolder, Narken's son?"

Marix explained in barest detail the events of the past day and night. Tedwin took the news of Frolder's treachery without so much as a blink.

"Does he live?" asked Tedwin calmly.

Marix hesitated, feeling the menace from the black-clad lord. He said, "I know not, lord."

"And my sister?"

Marix stared at the ground and shook his head.

Tedwin summoned his general. He ordered his army to surround Barrow Vitgis and allow no one to leave. The count, his personal bodyguard, and fifty men-at-arms would enter to secure the town.

"You will accompany me," he said.

"I?" said Marix.

"And all your companions. Come."

The giant led the way. As Count Tedwin rode by, the villagers prostrated themselves in the filth and ashes. The men-at-arms spread out behind their lord, searching among the fallen for Frolder, Countess Liantha, and the two Faziris.

The street wound through the silent village to the foot of the barrow mound. There the giant raised his hand for a halt. He readied his huge sword.

Out of the swirling smoke strode Fu'ad, straight-backed and commanding even though his beard was singed and his face smeared with soot. In his arms, he carried the still form of Count Tedwin's beautiful sister.