The Mercenary Knight (11 page)

“We’re all trying to escape, mate.”

“I know that well enough, friend, but with that chest and body we’re all going to bake in here. Don’t stand there, help me move the chest. Stay here, love. I’ll be right back.”

The man’s gaze riveted to Tanya and an uneasy feeling swept through Conrad, but he forced it away. This was no time to be possessive. With a reassuring smile to her, he clapped a shoulder on the man and led him down the stairs. Edgy, he turned one more time to look at Tanya. He was comforted to see that she was standing in the middle of the steps, her hands on her hips, trying to force people to wait for them to clear the way.

With a groan, they lifted the heavy container in unison. A step at a time, they carefully moved down the remaining steps. When they were almost at the bottom, a man and his wife tried to sweep past them, but Conrad stilled them with a glare.

Breathing heavily from the exertion, they finally made it to the bottom floor. They placed the chest to a side where it wouldn’t bother anyone. A stream of people rushed down the freed passage, the body of the dead man trampled over without a thought. Conrad watched them go, but Tanya was not with them. A sense of foreboding invaded him and he glanced up, hoping that she was where he had left her. She was not. Taking two steps at a time, he hurried back up the wooden staircase.

“Tanya!” he bellowed.

Conrad raced down the hallway, dodging the few remaining lodgers who were trying to flee. He kept peeking into every room in hopes that she was in one of them but they were all empty and abandoned. Finally, he reached their suite. It was also empty.

“Tanya.”

Conrad turned a full circle inside the empty chamber. Despair threatened to overcome him. For the first time in his life, he was at a loss of what to do. The window and the burning fire without caught his eye and he stepped towards it. The sight he saw sent his heart leaping into his throat. A man, hooded by a cloak, dragged a slumped, unconscious Tanya over his shoulder. Conrad glanced downwards into the courtyard and saw a fallen ladder.

Fury and determination flowed through his veins. The empty helplessness that had assaulted him moments before vanished. They had taken Tanya, and his mission was clear: get her back. He ran outside into the empty hallway and down into the common room. The innkeeper was hoarding his remaining precious coins into a bag behind the long bar before leaving his establishment. He looked up startled as Conrad pounded a fist on the bar.

“In the kitchen, to the left, but that will lead you---” Conrad didn’t hear the rest as he leaped behind the bar and burst through the double doors that led to the kitchen. The kitchen was eerily quiet and dark after the commotion in the hall and common room. It was late at night when the fire had started and the inn’s employees had not yet started their morning routine. Conrad observed a shaft of light entering from the far corner of the room near an assortment of empty baskets. He rushed towards it, certain that it was the door left partially open by a worker in his haste to flee.

The glare of the flames welcomed him as he stepped into the courtyard. The fire had spread quicker than he thought possible and the main building was already beginning to catch on.

He hurried across the empty space towards the direction in which he’d seen Tanya and the stranger escape. They had entered the building to the far left, the addition to the inn that looked nearly finished.

Conrad passed through a pair of double doors thrown wide open. He slowed his pace and cautiously drew his sword. Light snuck from above and he realized that the ceiling was not completed. Calmly, he surveyed his surroundings. He was in a room of some sort. His boots struck the stone floor loudly as he inspected the small chamber. Timber lay piled in stacks, along with other materials that he could not distinguish in the gloom. There were no windows and two doors.

The one to his left held a solid wooden door, firmly closed. He guessed that its purpose would have been to lead into the main building or perhaps a new kitchen. To his right, an entrance yawned into a dark passage. Conrad bit the inside of his cheek. He had no way if knowing if the kidnapper had taken Tanya through the closed door. Had he been outside he would have searched for tracks, but in a stone building, dimly lit but for the burning inferno outside, he didn’t stand a chance to find proof. If his men had been with him he could have divided the group, but he was on his own.

As he did in the direst situations, Conrad followed his gut. Turning right, he entered a dark stone tunnel, lit by scone torches hanging from the walls. Initially narrow, the tunnel expanded until he could open his arms wide and not reach the walls. He assumed that the innkeeper was building this as an escape route in case of a fire or if the city fell under siege. Conrad treaded carefully through the dirt ground. The channel was becoming darker, the spaces between each hanging torch wider. As he turned a corner, all light vanished. He stopped and waited, straining his ear for any noise. He did not have to wait long. He heard a pair of feet running away and then the unmistakable noise of a heavy sword being lifted. Only his fast reflexes saved him as he crouched and parried the weapon meant for his neck. Taking a step back, he tried to bring his enemy into the light. His eyes widened in surprise.

“I’m earning enough gold to retire for life.” Johann indicated with his head and Conrad watched in terror as the retreating form of the hooded man, with Tanya in his arms, fled back the way he had come.

“Who is he?”

Johann laughed. “Who do you think he is?”

Conrad’s eyes narrowed as he recalled the inn in Wilton. He should have realized it before, when he had encountered the man with the moustache on the stairs. They were no strangers, these were the men Tanya had fled from and he would bet his fighting arm that the hooded man was Reynard himself.

Without another word, Johann swung a vicious blow at Conrad. As he stepped back, he noticed that his usual sword was gone. In its stead, he held a greatsword with a jeweled hilt, clearly a Knight’s weapon.

Conrad ducked and lashed out at Johann. Steel rang against steel as they clashed. Conrad cut and Johann parried. Due to his build, Johann was faster, but he was not used to the weapon he held. Conrad took advantage of this and slashed at his ribs. Quickly, Johann dodged and lunged. Conrad stepped aside just in time before Johann’s sword pierced through his stomach. Johann riposted and Conrad parried once more. Sweat trickled off his brow as they fell into a pattern. Up and down the sword went, to the side, parry, lunge and repeat.

Conrad was patient. He knew that Johann was not used to the heavy sword and he would tire before Conrad would. Suddenly, he saw an opening. Quickly he performed a series of blows that made Johann stagger and step back. Using the advantage of his bulk, he threw his weight forward and lifted his sword in a sweeping arc severing Johann’s head from his body.

“You were always a sad fool,” Conrad said as Johann’s body folded over and his head rolled away.

Conrad cleaned his broadsword on Johann’s tunic. He stared down at the head of the man who had been his comrade for the past five years. He couldn’t believe he had trusted the man. With a shake of his head, he turned his mind to more immediate problems. He had to find Tanya.

Grabbing a torch, he tried returning the way he had come, but upon reaching the tunnel’s entrance a wave of burning heat and the acrid smell of burning wood reached his nostrils. He swore loudly. The bastard had likely set the storage material on fire.

Conrad swiveled and plunged back through the tunnel hoping that it would lead him to a fire-free exit.

He didn’t know how long he had been running through the darkness. It felt like an eternity but the truth was that it probably was no more than a few minutes. Sudden light assaulted his senses. His eyes teared and he blinked repeatedly trying to regain focus. He was at the stables. The horses were gone but the torches were intact in their places.

Conrad raced through the barn and out into the open. A long line of people carrying buckets of water assembled before the inn trying to douse the roaring flames. He quickly scanned the crowd for Gregorii and Wybert, afraid that they had also betrayed him. He breathed a sigh of relief as he caught sight of them at the far end of the line, helping the populace.

They hurried away from fire to a clearing close to the city’s postern gate. A score of horses grazed peacefully on the grass, the boy that had greeted them when arriving at the inn watching over them with another youngster. A blacksmith and his apprentice urgently dug a few stakes into the ground so they could secure the animals. Gregorii approached one of the lads.

Conrad nodded grimly. He tossed the redhead another coin and turned to find his friends and horse. The other young man was already bringing their mounts. The horses were unsaddled, except for the bridle. Everything had been left behind, the animal’s safety a priority before any material equipment. Conrad climbed atop Splendida, sure that Wybert and Gregorii would be but a step behind him as they thundered past the gates and into the road.

They couldn’t be far off; the knights only had a few minutes’ advantage. Conrad kicked his heels to Splendida’s flanks, urging her to run faster. The horse whinnied and obeyed, hurtling through the path, kicking stones and dirt at every step. The path was barely lit by the light of the moon. However, dawn was not far off and soon the sun’s ray would clear their way. A high-pitched scream sliced the air, causing Conrad’s chest to constrict. Tanya had probably recovered consciousness.

“Faster, Splendida. Faster.”

The horse was at its limit, charging across the trail in the gloom, foam forming at her mouth from the effort. They took a bend on the road and suddenly two riders were crashing upon them. Conrad began to draw his sword but another rider sped past him. He watched in awe as Wybert, balancing himself atop his beast, released his reins and jumped onto the other man’s mount, throwing them both to the ground.

“Go, just go,” Gregorii shouted.

He didn’t look back as he rode on. He heard Tanya scream again, nearer this time. A strange mix of pride and fear for his woman suffused his body. She was fighting against Reynard but God knew what the bastard was capable of doing to her.

Speeding past another twist he caught sight of them. Tanya sat upright before the cloaked rider. She was biting, scratching and screaming, trying with all her might to get the man to release his hold on her.

“Let her go!” Conrad bellowed.

Reynard looked back and Tanya took the opportunity to bite down on his hand. The knight cursed, and lifted his uninjured hand to strike at her but she grabbed it in mid-air. They struggled and suddenly, Tanya was falling. She cried out as her body crashed to the ground with a dull thud.

“No!”

Conrad hurried to her side. Without thinking he halted his horse and jumped off, rushing to kneel next to Tanya’s still form. His hands shaking, he caressed her brow and laid a hand over her chest. She was still breathing but he had no way of knowing if she was bleeding internally. The hairs at the back of his neck stood and the sharp edge of a sword cut through the skin on his neck.

“She’ll be all right. The horse wasn’t going that fast.”

“Why won’t you leave her alone? Why do you want her?” Conrad rationalized that Reynard had plans for him, if not he would have killed him right then. He needed to distract him enough to be able to back away from under the pressure of his sword.