The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) (43 page)

‘Why didn’t you tell me you were warriors?’ Leopold asked her.

‘It was not my place to tell you anything,’ she replied. ‘Those who needed to know, knew. For an emperor, you seem remarkably uninformed.’

She freed the other two in the same manner as the first and the women stretched their legs and rubbed their chafed wrists. From the way they cracked their knuckles and necks, stretching their fingers, Leopold could tell they were readying to have their revenge.

‘They will suffer for this,’ Storm declared angrily, and Leopold believed her.

When they turned to leave, Salu and Toby were already gone. Leopold bolted into the passage, where the old man was already opening the far door.

‘Oh, no!’ Leopold said and ran as fast as he could after him, drawing his sword between strides.

‘What are you doing?’ came the roaring voice of a Eudan guard, for Salu had stepped through the doorway and was now standing in the man’s face. He probably had no idea what they were saying to him, and he was incapable of making any kind of coherent reply even if he did.

Leopold pushed past Salu to fill the space between the old man and the Koian. Three burly guards filled the small antechamber and they pulled out their swords as they saw Leopold’s weapon in his hand. He had passed them earlier, but they had been far less intimidating when they were sitting quietly, looking rather sleepy.

Leopold glanced from their blades to his, and wondered what had gone through his mind to make him draw the damnable thing. There was barely enough room in here to swing a fist, let alone a weapon.

The nearest guard’s face twisted with anger as he saw the four women coming along the corridor. He took a step back to make room and lunged forward to skewer Leopold on the end of his blade. Leopold could not find the capacity to move and thought that moment may be his last, watching the sword driving at his middle. With inches to go, Salu stepped in, shunting the flat of the weapon aside with his body. The blade slipped past Leopold and dug into the wall. The old man then shoved the guard backwards with both of his hands, knocking the fellow off balance. His sword end followed him, slicing upwards dangerously as he flailed.

Thank goodness! Leopold thought, stumbling aside, but the old magician was not finished.

Before the guard had fallen too far, Salu reached out as quick as a monkey and grabbed him by the hand. He pulled the fellow spinning back upright and just as quickly pushed him face first into the wall. The Eudan dropped his sword with the impact. He staggered as he regained his balance, sputtering colourful Eudan insults. Finally, he found his wits and turned to his companions, about to order them to action, when Salu struck him again, lashing out with his walking stick, cracking him on the side of the head. His eyes rolled in his head and he fell straight down with legs turned to jelly.

The other guards had taken that long to recover from their surprise, and they now stepped in to hack at the old man. But Salu lithely avoided their attacks as if they were nothing more than weary toddlers poking at him with wooden spoons, and he overwhelmed them deftly and precisely.

Salu hobbled as he moved, but somehow, when he needed to, his old steps became remarkably spry, shifting him about on the floor in rapid, distinct movements that Leopold could never hope to match. His stick flew like the wind, striking the back of their knees and systematically debilitating their defences, dropping them to the floor, then tapping the tops of their skulls with resounding clunks and sending them likewise senseless or dead to the floor—Leopold could not tell which, but from the magnitude of the noise, it was probably the latter.

Toby was standing to the side of the small room, watching the entertainment with glee and clapping his hands as the last man hit the deck.

‘Emperor Leopold,’ Kali said, staring through the doorway towards them. ‘Your old companion is also much more than he seems.’

‘Isn’t everyone around here?’ Leopold said. ‘I’m just waiting for Toby to start breathing fire and throwing lightning. I seem to be the only one around here who is normal, and that’s saying something.’

Salu had already started out towards the main deck.

‘What are you doing?’ Leopold asked him. ‘We need to free the soldiers before we go out there!’

Salu grumbled at such a suggestion and Leopold caught something like ‘thankless dolt’ trailing at the end.

‘We’ll release them,’ Kali said. ‘The old man is either mad or knows more than he’s letting on. Either way it will be dangerous out there. You should stay with us.’

Leopold sighed. ‘I’d better follow him. I can’t let him go out there alone. Although, if he calls me any more names I may just reconsider.’

Kali nodded, and continued past with her sisters. They opened the next door that led to lower decks and the noise of combat sounded at once as they pummelled whatever guards they found waiting there.

Old Salu shuffled along the passage and out into the open. The main deck was illuminated by all the ship lamps set about the railing and hanging from the mast poles, and the man continued out with Toby and Leopold trailing him—Toby as happy as ever and Leopold with his sword shaking unsteadily in his hand.

‘Go back, Toby!’ Leopold kept hissing to the boy, but Toby was oblivious to the commands and looked past the high masts of the ship to the star-filled sky with wonder and joy, as if this was his first time ever let out of his room.

The multitudes of Eudan soldiers on deck turned their heads as one, watching the trio tread down the stairs. Some of the nearest climbed to their feet, intrigued.

‘What are you doing?’ one of the Eudans asked them. ‘Get back to your room!’

He looked to Leopold with a moment of confusion before Salu’s stick relieved him of his wits with a sharp, cracking blow to the side of his head. Soldiers gasped in surprise. Several drew their swords and some even laughed at the sight of their fellow being overcome by such a feeble old man. There were thirty of them within a few steps, and perhaps three hundred and fifty more across the deck. The nearer ones were not taking chances and they stepped in to cut the old man down. They, too, fell in a heap.

The Eudans began to realise their error. More drew their swords, rising from their resting points and coming at the old man in earnest, one after the other.

Salu’s stick went to work, striking each deftly and soundly, hitting them with expert precision. No more than three hits was required to put any man onto the floor, and although he never raised his gaze from the floor, the old man seemed to detect each incoming attack before it arrived, moving aside with fluid ease. With each Eudan he felled, he took another step forward, seemingly intent on taking on the whole lot of them.

Leopold followed behind, holding his sword in readiness, but Salu took care of the enemy without exception. All Leopold could do was follow along in the old man’s wake, letting his blade wander around, doing his best to keep Toby behind him.

More soldiers came together, ten in a line and Salu roared and whipped his stick along them all, forcing them to step back, and for the first time the old man made an effort, grunting as he moved. With their initial assault broken, he surprised them by diving lithely, rolling behind them and coming to his feet like a well-versed acrobat, striking them in rapid succession as they spun to follow him, their heads sounding like a row of struck coconuts.

The other soldiers over the decks of the Farstride had gathered nearer. The sense of amusement had fully left them as the old man continued his work.

Some had bows and fired their missiles from short range, either well-skilled enough to avoid hitting their comrades or uncaring if they did. Salu struck the arrows from the air in mid-flight, slapping them to the deck or away with rapid snaps of his weapon, setting the cloth of his sleeves cracking like whips.

With alarm, Leopold realised Toby was missing. The boy was no longer behind him and as he looked about desperately, he saw more Eudans readying their bows on the third level decking behind him. Salu seemed oblivious to their presence, his back turned, and the old man refused to respond to Leopold’s calls of warning. All Leopold could do was run to the steps and attempt to dispatch the bowmen by himself.

The first one was unprepared and screamed as Leopold’s blade penetrated halfway through his forearm. The ease at which it pierced the flesh was alarming, but Leopold had no time to marvel. The fellow continued howling as he fell and Leopold stood over him, wondering if he should finish the poor sod or not. The Eudan was desperately covering the blood-gushing wound with his other hand, staring up with terror.

The other Eudans, however, were far from helpless. They dropped their bows and drew other weapons, the nearest bearing a jagged knife.

Leopold stepped over their fallen comrade and pointed his sword toward the other two. They looked fearless, like hunters set on the kill, the whites of their wide eyes and their snarling teeth bold against the black of their skin. The first one thrust out with his dagger and Leopold stepped back, unsure, nearly tripping over the fellow still screeching behind him on the floor. The Eudan followed closely, stabbing the air until Leopold realised he could not continue stepping back—he was nearly at the stairs.

With a mighty yell he drove forward, springing lightly on his bare feet. His blade slipped past the Eudan’s knife and went deep into the man’s chest, finding its way between his ribs and slipping neatly inside. The Eudan shrieked and fell away, nearly pulling the blade from Leopold’s hand. At the last instant Leopold had the sense to hold tight so that his weapon drew free. This man did not continue screaming, but lay choking and writhing, spitting up blood.

The last Eudan had sensibly exchanged his bow for a sword and stepped past his fallen companions, swinging at Leopold. Leopold raised his own weapon and blocked as he had been trained, but when steel met steel it nearly broke his wrist. The Eudan hit down again, each time battering Leopold’s defence.

In desperation, Leopold dropped flat onto his back, swiping his blade towards his opponent’s shins. The sword stroke homed true, cutting through meat and revealing white bone beneath. The man squealed, still gripping his sword, but did not fall. His wound poured blood, but he hacked defiantly at Leopold, who was now on the floor.

Leopold was quicker and scrambled backwards, regaining his feet. This time he did not feel compassion, for his opponent was determined to fight until the bitter end. Leopold plunged his sword into the fellow’s belly, forcing it in deep. Again the Eudan howled. Leopold withdrew his blade and stabbed it forth once more, this time towards the heart. The Eudan gasped and fell dead.

Leopold now had time to catch his breath, and he looked down upon the carpet of bodies strewn upon the main deck. Salu was a quarter of the way towards the fo’c’sle and did not look like slowing down, somehow forcing the crowd of soldiers away from him. Toby had reappeared, following him, climbing over bodies.

To Leopold’s dismay, one of the far doors opened and more Eudans came pouring out, adding to the numbers of those already there, encircling Salu completely, catching him between the second and third mainmasts. Accompanying them were five of the Koian warrior men and they raced in at Salu as quick as foxes, throwing Eudan soldiers aside in their haste to be at him.

Even against five superhuman warriors, Salu held his ground. Indeed, it looked as though the Koians and Salu were evenly matched, for neither of them were able to better the other. The old man was kept busy, in constant motion, lashing out at any foolish Eudan who dared venture within striking distance, while defending himself against the constant attacks of the Koians.

Toby ran between Salu’s legs as if in play, miraculously avoiding the battle around him. Everyone seemed too busy with the old man to pay him any mind, but a single strike or untamed sword swipe—even a misstep from Salu himself—could be disastrous.

‘Toby! Toby!’ Leopold called, striving to raise his voice above the din of the battle, but the boy was unresponsive even if he heard.

The crowd around Salu surged in and the old man and Toby disappeared beneath their numbers. Koian and Eudan both were atop of them, all grasping and grabbing and stabbing, and Leopold took in a sharp breath of anxiousness. But a roar sounded from beneath and the pile of bodies flew aside. Salu stood at their centre, looking furious but unharmed. Without a pause he continued with the onslaught. Toby, however, was gone.

Leopold spied the boy, at the side of the deck and away from the throng, clambering up onto the railing to get a better view, struggling to get his little leg on a foothold.

A hatchway at the far end of the deck burst open and more men came out. This time, Turian soldiers came streaming into view, wielding their swords and intent on revenge. Kali and her sisters were amongst them and together they commenced demolishing the Eudans who turned to meet them, leaving Salu to deal with the male warriors.

Given a little breathing space, Salu gained a new level of dexterity, matching the Koian men’s athletic feats, the wooden stick in his hand a blur that kept them at bay. Somehow the stick never snapped or broke. It slapped wildly, stinging, but lacking the weight to do them any true harm.

Salu hit out at one Koian warrior and the man easily ducked, letting Salu’s attack slap uselessly against a mast pole. The Koian grinned and stepped closer to strike the old man, but Salu brought his stick back, the lantern hanging upon the mast with it, smashing it into the side of the Koian’s head and setting his face ablaze. The man yelled, staggering away as he patted frantically at his face, stinking of burning hair and oil. The deck bloomed with the light of that fire.

The other four came in savagely while the fifth recovered, and Salu fought back. He smacked and battered them, but he could not make any headway with just a slender wooden stick. He moved rapidly, almost desperately, and his face glistened with sweat. They pursued him all around, and sometimes he pursued them in return, but he could never get the better of them for more than an instant, outnumbered four to one as he was.