Taken by Storm (ROMANTIC REALMS COLLECTION) (20 page)

Tahj ignored his remark. “I am willing to offer you one hundred thousand Abbas to step down as…leader of Avistad, so I may resume the throne given me by birth.”

“Don’t you mean given
Kadeesh
by birth?” Boltar emphasized Tahj’s dead brother’s name in the hopes of infuriating him and forcing him to act, which he almost did.

Tahj clenched the hilt of his sword, and then consciously relaxed his grip, his eyes never leaving Boltar’s face. That was why he noticed the briefest flick of the man’s eyes upward. As he continued to talk, Tahj also glanced in that direction, and caught the smallest shadow of a figure behind the banners gracing the upper railings.

“Yes, you are right.” Tahj stuck his hands behind his back and began to walk around in an oratory fashion. “It should have been inherited by my brother, Kadeesh, but he met an untimely end, didn’t he?” He chanced a glimpse at the south end of the balcony as he turned back to Boltar, and realized they had been led into a trap. Archers were stationed above, and he and his men had now become easy targets for their bows. While Boltar formulated an answer, Tahj’s gaze darted about, searching for a solution.

“Yes,” Boltar said slowly, “what an unfortunate end.” The servant arrived with a jar of wine and Boltar accepted a cup. “Perhaps he was in need of a swordsmanship lesson.”

Before Boltar could even bring the glass to his lips, Tahj lunged, drawing his sword in one swift motion and whacking at a torch above the servant’s head. The torch, cut in two, dropped onto his tray, upsetting the jar of wine and knocking it all over Boltar’s lap even as the alcohol caught fire. It was just the distraction Tahj needed.

“They’re above us! Take cover!” Tahj shouted.

How could I have been so stupid?
Radeem thought, even as he buried his sword in a man’s chest after ducking and barely missing having to part with his own head. As he fought off those around him, Radeem located Tahj halfway up the steps. The prince was exchanging thrusts with one of Boltar’s personal guard, sword against spear. Radeem took another man down and tried to move through the throng toward Tahj. From his position slightly above the fray, Tahj’s back was totally vulnerable, but Radeem knew he was after Boltar.

* * *

I should have killed him when I had the chance. If my men weren’t so inept, he never would have escaped Avistad in the first place.
Boltar’s anger raged.
But then the boy waltzes in here, just waltzes right in. So like Tahj, so trusting, the little fool. The boy’s father, who I had little trouble disposing of, was smarter than that, as was his treasured brother, Kadeesh. And now, to have turned the tables on me when I was just about to squash him for good.

Boltar was not unaware there were many who had been hoping for the prince to return someday. The overlord had sent out parties far and wide, offering huge sums of money to the person who would find and kill the prince, but without success.
And now the boy sees through my own trap?

Boltar was seething on the inside even as he blistered on the outside from the burns the flaming alcohol had left.
Well, no worry,
he thought as he brushed at the charred edges of the robes he wore, knocking off bits and pieces of the ashes, striding quickly down the back hall to his bedroom,
my men may have to work a bit harder, but I’m sure they picked off a great number of Tahj’s group before they were able to scramble for cover, and will dispatch with the rest of them quickly.

And as for the boy prince—well, Tahj was sure to be killed in the first few minutes of battle. He was an excellent swordsman, probably even better than Kadeesh was, but he didn’t have the businesslike attitude of a true fighter, like his brother once had. Tahj just didn’t have the killer instinct. Boltar knew for a fact
, each blow Tahj dealt created a wave of remorse in the prince. Any emotion at all was an opening for death in a battle.

“Lord Boltar!”

Boltar turned slowly and recognized the man on top of the steps at the end of the hall right away. Hurmoz, a friend of Kadeesh’s. The boy had an arrow stuck in his right bicep and blood dripping down his leg from some other wound. He had a lighter complexion than most, and though probably in his thirties by now, still looked all of eighteen. His face was wide and expressive, his hair curly.

He stumbled down a few steps. “I have come to fight for Prince Tahj’s throne and to revenge a good man, Kadeesh!”

Pain was etched on the young man’s face, and he looked pale. He held his leg stiffly when he advanced, but there was a grim determination about him. Boltar wanted to kill him, but he just didn’t have the time. He swirled around, his back to the younger man. “Go home,” he said dismissively. “I’ve no time to kill you today.”

Boltar climbed the two or three stairs to his bedroom and opened the door. He heard the
stomp, drraag
of Hurmoz as he made his way down the hall and rolled his eyes.
Very well
. He stood just behind the door, drawing a short dagger from the inside of his cloak, counting with a bored expression until the young man entered, listening as the
stomp, drraag
got closer, his hand on the doorknob.

But Hurmoz, who knew how wily Boltar was, turned out to have a plan of his own. As he passed through the doorway, Hurmoz yanked hard on the outside doorknob, swinging around the edge of the door, ready to slay Boltar on the doorstep.

But since Boltar grasped the handle on the other side, the unexpected move threw Hurmoz off-balance, saving the older man’s life. The soldier’s blow only nicked him as he fell forward, and he still managed to find an unnatural sheath for his dagger in Hurmoz’s chest. The young man dropped his dagger with a clang and fell hard on his knees with a tortured cry, his hands trying feebly to disengage his enemy’s hand from the dagger piercing him. Boltar lifted with all his might on the handle of his weapon, wreaking further damage to his opponent’s insides, from which a sickening noise issued, then Boltar released his grip, letting Kadeesh’s friend fall face-forward onto the tiles.

Boltar straightened up to his full height, slightly winded, and examined his side. His tunic was torn, a long but shallow scratch oozing a little blood onto the edges of the fabric. “Everyone of you is out to ruin my wardrobe today,” he muttered disdainfully, stepping on, rather than over, the body at his feet.

Hurmoz groaned loudly, his breathing labored as the dagger probably punctured his lung, and the impact of the hilt, as deeply as the blade had gone in, would have crushed some ribs. But the groan turned to a scream of pain when Boltar grabbed his arm, dragging him across the floor to the bed, the pressure on his rib cage so intense it would feel like being ripped apart. Hurmoz screamed in agony.

Blood poured from his wounds upon the tile, and smeared in a trail to the spot where Boltar finally released him, his body falling with a loud noise to the ground. Ignoring the man’s pain, Boltar reached around the side of an ornately carved bedside table and found the minuscule hook there, flipping open a secret door. He pulled the front of the table open and reached in, taking out sack-loads of coins.

* * *

Following Tahj’s order to take cover was a little easier said than done, as the balcony encircled the throne room on all four sides, so even the huge columns in the room could only provide cover on one side. Not only were they surrounded from above, they also had soldiers hemming them in from all directions as well. But at least Tahj’s warning saved them from a full-out slaughter.

Tahj fought desperately on the very steps where many of his father’s counselors had been butchered, several of whom, he recalled now, were weaponless. Well, he had a weapon, and he would put it to good use. His opponent jabbed with his spear, and Tahj jumped high in the air, tucking his knees up under him and landing lightly on his feet as if playing some dangerous game of jump rope. The soldier then rushed at him with a roar, holding his spear across his chest. He hoped to push Tahj backwards and impale him on the sword of a soldier who was rushing him on the other side, who the prince didn’t seem to be aware of yet.

Tahj took a mighty, two-handed swing at the spear handle and cracked it in two, but his momentum took him crashing to the steps, which turned out to be a good thing, as the man behind him was just bearing down on him with his sword. As Tahj looked on with surprise, the guard he had been fighting was run through by his own man’s sword. Both soldiers looked at each other with wide eyes as the guard collapsed to his knees, inches from Tahj, his mouth open in a scream.

Above the sounds of clashing metal, death screams, and victory howls, Tahj heard Radeem yelling his name in warning. The prince looked up and saw the second guard, spear raised high above his head, charging down the stairs above him. He rolled to the left just as the spear came down, ringing on the steps, the pole shattering and launching the man who bore it head over heels until he came to his final resting place at Radeem’s feet, the captain’s sword penetrating his chest.

Meanwhile, the soldier who had killed his own man had managed to pull his sword back out of him and was cutting a path to Tahj on the stairs. Tahj had regained his footing and was sparring with another soldier. He saw the second soldier approaching out of the corner of his eye, but was too preoccupied with his own fight to do anything about him. His sword
was tied up in a test of strength with another man, each pressing forward, their muscles straining. Just before the second soldier reached him, Tahj managed to finish off the first by throwing his elbow hard into his face. Without hesitating, he brought his sword around while the first man crumpled to the ground, slicing through the second man before he even had a chance to react.

Momentarily unchallenged, Tahj took a second to glance around the room. To his horror, he saw one of Kadeesh’s old friends slumped in a seated position against a column, blood smeared behind him, more splattered on his face, his eyes wide open and lifeless. It was easy to see they were outnumbered. Several of his men were taking on two opponents at a time, and as he watched, several more fell. He heard shouts and a loud banging at the door, whose very timbers shook. Suddenly Radeem was at his side.

“If they break through that door, it’s all over.” Radeem lunged suddenly and went to the aid of a friend.

Tahj took a deep breath and found his next target.

It seemed as if the fighting had gone on forever. The prince’s muscles began to shake with each new strike. Several times it looked as if he were about to meet the wrong end of a sword, and one of his men would bail him out. In turn, he fended off numerous attackers for others, saving their lives, but the battle was still pitched against them.

He heard the sound of the door finally splitting in two. Alarmed, he turned his head to behold a strange sight. In pushed Bagrat, Jahmeel, and their youngest brother, Cyrus, along with several dozen tribesmen, still in their dusty work clothes, but now with stolen swords—swords won off of the men they’d fought to gain entrance to the throne room. Bagrat caught Tahj’s eye and grinned, then dove into the fray like it was a party.

Tahj finished off his man, trying to fight his way over to Bagrat. Soon it was clear the tide had turned in their favor. Tahj worried about the newcomers. They were field hands, not swordsmen, but what they lacked in skill, they seemed to make up for in enthusiasm. Not realizing he had gotten so near, he was surprised to find himself fighting back to back with Bagrat, who said in a jovial voice, “Good to see you, Tahj.”

“
Fantastic
to see you, brother!” Tahj returned with a grin.

“Why don’t I handle things here and you go off and take care of that ugly King Boltar? You’ve got to hurry up and get back to Bashea and your daughter.”

Tahj froze, until a blade whistled past his head. He came alive, arcing his sword and meeting his opponent’s next maneuver easily. “My daughter?”

* * *

Boltar looped each coin sack through his belt and tried to secure them as best he could. He was so intent on his project, he didn’t hear Tahj enter behind him.

“I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Boltar whirled to face the grim-faced prince. His eyes flicked to his sword, left by the door, and back to Tahj’s.

Tahj lowered his sword. “Retrieve your weapon,” he ordered.

Boltar smiled. Tahj was nothing if not predictable.
Instead of finishing off his enemy, he offers him a sword. Fool!

“I won’t kill an unarmed man,” Tahj stated.

Boltar’s eyes went hard and he recovered his weapon. “You should not have come back, Tahj.” In a flash, Boltar reached up and lowered the wooden bar, which locked the door with a thud.

The two began to circle each other. Hormoz sputtered, coughing, and Tahj took his eyes off Boltar for a second to check on him. A second was all Boltar needed to strike. At the last moment, Tahj brought up his weapon and was
at least able to keep the shot from being deadly, but Boltar stabbed him in the right shoulder. With a cry of agony, Tahj fell to one knee, his sword clanging to the floor. Without his sword hand, he was useless.

Radeem began to shout outside the door, and they could hear him ramming himself against it in an effort to get in.

“Did you really think you would come here and defeat me?” Boltar taunted. With all his strength, he kicked his boot into Tahj’s wound, knocking him back several feet. Tahj let out a cry of pain.