Crypt of the shadowking - Mark Anthony [6]
The guard made his way down the Street of Jewels and then turned onto the Street of Lanterns, disappearing from view. This had not been a particularly savory part of town even seven years ago, and now it was worse. Bold, red-eyed rats scurried in the refuse-lined gutters, and wicked laughter drifted down from open windows above.
Caledan turned the corner and then paused. The guard was gone. He must have entered one of the doorways that lined the street. Caledan muttered an oath, but there was nothing he could do. He turned around to make his way back toward the Wandering Wyvern.
He found himself facing the tall warrior with scarred cheeks.
"Don't you know, friend," the guard said with an evil grin, "it isn't safe to be about on the streets at night." The guard's sword glimmered dully in the dim light. "I'd best see you to Lord Cutter's dungeon. Trust me, you'll be much safer there."
Caledan started to back up, but the grating of a boot heel on the cobbles behind him brought him to a halt. He looked quickly about to see two more guards step out of a shadowed doorway a dozen paces away. He was outnumbered.
Caledan swore under his breath. This wasn't the sort of homecoming he had envisioned.
Two
The two guards advanced on Caledan from either side, short swords drawn. The captain watched with a satisfied leer, his dark eyes glittering.
"Don't worry, friend," the captain said with a coarse laugh. "I'm sure you'll find Cutter's dungeons most inviting."
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to be rude and turn down that gracious invitation," Caledan replied cheerfully. He had already developed a serious dislike for this fellow.
The captain nodded almost imperceptibly to the guards behind Caledan, but Caledan was ready. He feinted a lunge at the guard to his left, a pot-bellied fellow whose stupid grin displayed a half-dozen jagged yellow teeth. The guard swung his blade wildly with enough force to cleave Caledan in two, but Caledan dodged to one side. The force of the guard's swing carried him forward, and his companion screamed as the sword bit deeply into his side. The snaggle-toothed guard watched in confusion as his companion slumped to the street, a rivulet of dark blood trickling into the gutter to mingle with the filth.
"Kill him, you idiot!" the captain snarled. The pot-bellied guard roared in rage, rushing at Caledan and shaking his bloodied sword.
In a flash Caledan dove for the dead guard's sword, rolled, and came up standing. He thrust the blade out before him just in time to meet the guard's rush. The man's eyes went wide. He slipped backward off the sword, the blood-smeared blade making a sucking noise as it pulled from his chest. Like a felled tree, the guard toppled to the street.
The captain regarded the bodies of his fallen men dispassionately for a moment, then turned his glittering gaze toward Caledan. "You're full of surprises, friend," he said, stepping across the corpses. "It appears I'll have to deal with you myself. It will be worth it, however. Lord Cutter will be most interested to meet you, I think." He lifted his gleaming sword, his stance practiced and ready, his eyes deadly.
"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint your master, then," Caledan said wryly. He dropped the bloodstained short sword and tensed as if to run. Victory glimmered in the captain's eyes as he lunged for Caledan, but he was far too slow.
In the space between heartbeats, Caledan reached down, drew the knife from the sheath inside his boot, and let it fly. For a frozen moment the knife spun in the air, glinting in the light of a nearby torch. Then the captain stumbled backward, his dark eyes filled with dull astonishment. He clutched weakly at the hilt of the knife buried in his chest and slumped wordlessly to the cobbles.
Caledan quickly surveyed the shadowy street around him, but it was empty. Apparently there were no more city