guard Deldar been up to his job he would never have obliged us. My own instructions to my lads back home covered this kind of unpleasant contingency. He was not foolish enough actually to enter our cell carrying the keys. He glowered down, very bulky, sweating, his leather creaking.
“You cramph,” he said, using the insult with relish. “You’d better have something to say. I am not summoned lightly. What do you want?”
I reached over.
“This.”
I took his throat between my fists and choked a little, enough to take his mind off going for his sword. He fell down. We got his sword out and the point only broke off when the second staple was free. I threw the chains on the straw and started in on Nulty.
“Hurry, master. One of his men will be along...”
“Don’t feel sorry for him, Nulty.”
And Nulty laughed. “Oh, no! Not at all.”
Nulty’s staples came out more easily, for he’d been working on them, the cunning old leem. He could not hold a sword. I looked down on the miserable bundles on the straw, and one of them, the one called Nath, showed the whites of his eyes.
“Free me, notor, please!”
“And you will help against this rast Hardil?”
“Aye!”
He was one arm freed when the guard wandered along to see what had happened to his Deldar. The slackness had, indeed, spread. Had it not, we would not have gained our freedom so easily. The guard collapsed and we had a second sword. This I preserved, for it possessed a point.
When the bundle of misery called Nath stood up, he said, “Give me the guard’s dagger, notor.”
I handed it across. We had ourselves a recruit.
Chapter five
Concerning Nulty’s Sword Arm
We stood in the guardroom and surveyed the five unconscious mercenaries. Nulty’s hands prevented him from helping us tie up the guards. Nath and his companion in misery, Lardo — the other two had died on the flogging frames — were not up to taking part in heavy fighting. Refusing to kill the mercenaries in cold blood, I made sure they were bound and gagged securely. Had I wished them slain they’d have died when we burst in here.
“We’ve made a start,” said Nulty, with a considerable return of his husky manner.
“We’ll never—” began Lardo. He was a squat, bushy man with a bulbous nose.
“Not if you do not believe it,” I said. “We must contact the people loyal to Nulty—”
“Loyal to you, master,” interrupted Nulty, a heinous sin in retainers but one in which Nulty had tended to indulge himself freely.
“Loyal to proper management of the valley. From what you tell me, Hardil is a tyrant.”
“And unpleasant with it, notor,” said Nath.
It seemed to me, what with Nulty’s crippled hands and Nath and Lardo walking like crabs with their injured backs, any heavy fighting would devolve on me. Well, and wasn’t that what being the Amak was about — in part, at any rate?
Whatever day it was in Kregen’s Havilfarian calendar was dying. I was not clear how much time had clasped since I’d been thrown into the cells. We slunk out into the twinned shadows of the compound. A few lights were already going on, and the smells of one of the evening meals wafted in mouth-wateringly. A parcel of guards came along to relieve their comrades, and they had to be knocked on the head and put to sleep. Only two died.
Nulty had found himself a length of rope, and he made Nath and Lardo tie a sword hilt to his wrist and crippled right hand. The blade was reasonably firm, and he it was who cut one of the reliefs down, smiting furiously, unable to judge the exact strength of the blow with the strapped-up sword.
“I did not mean to slay him, master. But his god must have turned his face away from him. The rast.”
I did not laugh, for Nulty would not expect that. Grim and horrible though the circumstances were, they were fit subjects for humor, considering what we attempted and the means at our disposal.
All the same, there were men and women loyal to Nulty
“You cramph,” he said, using the insult with relish. “You’d better have something to say. I am not summoned lightly. What do you want?”
I reached over.
“This.”
I took his throat between my fists and choked a little, enough to take his mind off going for his sword. He fell down. We got his sword out and the point only broke off when the second staple was free. I threw the chains on the straw and started in on Nulty.
“Hurry, master. One of his men will be along...”
“Don’t feel sorry for him, Nulty.”
And Nulty laughed. “Oh, no! Not at all.”
Nulty’s staples came out more easily, for he’d been working on them, the cunning old leem. He could not hold a sword. I looked down on the miserable bundles on the straw, and one of them, the one called Nath, showed the whites of his eyes.
“Free me, notor, please!”
“And you will help against this rast Hardil?”
“Aye!”
He was one arm freed when the guard wandered along to see what had happened to his Deldar. The slackness had, indeed, spread. Had it not, we would not have gained our freedom so easily. The guard collapsed and we had a second sword. This I preserved, for it possessed a point.
When the bundle of misery called Nath stood up, he said, “Give me the guard’s dagger, notor.”
I handed it across. We had ourselves a recruit.
Chapter five
Concerning Nulty’s Sword Arm
We stood in the guardroom and surveyed the five unconscious mercenaries. Nulty’s hands prevented him from helping us tie up the guards. Nath and his companion in misery, Lardo — the other two had died on the flogging frames — were not up to taking part in heavy fighting. Refusing to kill the mercenaries in cold blood, I made sure they were bound and gagged securely. Had I wished them slain they’d have died when we burst in here.
“We’ve made a start,” said Nulty, with a considerable return of his husky manner.
“We’ll never—” began Lardo. He was a squat, bushy man with a bulbous nose.
“Not if you do not believe it,” I said. “We must contact the people loyal to Nulty—”
“Loyal to you, master,” interrupted Nulty, a heinous sin in retainers but one in which Nulty had tended to indulge himself freely.
“Loyal to proper management of the valley. From what you tell me, Hardil is a tyrant.”
“And unpleasant with it, notor,” said Nath.
It seemed to me, what with Nulty’s crippled hands and Nath and Lardo walking like crabs with their injured backs, any heavy fighting would devolve on me. Well, and wasn’t that what being the Amak was about — in part, at any rate?
Whatever day it was in Kregen’s Havilfarian calendar was dying. I was not clear how much time had clasped since I’d been thrown into the cells. We slunk out into the twinned shadows of the compound. A few lights were already going on, and the smells of one of the evening meals wafted in mouth-wateringly. A parcel of guards came along to relieve their comrades, and they had to be knocked on the head and put to sleep. Only two died.
Nulty had found himself a length of rope, and he made Nath and Lardo tie a sword hilt to his wrist and crippled right hand. The blade was reasonably firm, and he it was who cut one of the reliefs down, smiting furiously, unable to judge the exact strength of the blow with the strapped-up sword.
“I did not mean to slay him, master. But his god must have turned his face away from him. The rast.”
I did not laugh, for Nulty would not expect that. Grim and horrible though the circumstances were, they were fit subjects for humor, considering what we attempted and the means at our disposal.
All the same, there were men and women loyal to Nulty
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