Shadows of Doom - Ed Greenwood [98]
"He'll find you, after, if you shirk your duty." "Let him," the first voice responded bitterly, "if he lives. You haven't seen these idiots fight!"
Belkram grinned savagely, stepped around a dalesman who was falling with a groan, two swords through his body, and drove his sword point into the mouth of another Wolf. "Friend," he called out, "which way is this great hall?"
After a startled moment, the first voice said laconically, " 'Twould be the most foolish treason to tell you that it's through here, turn right, and behind the double doors at the end of the straight passage-so I won't tell you that."
The voice started to say something more but suddenly rose into a scream and abruptly fell silent. "So die all traitors," rumbled a new voice. "Hey!" Belkram called, hewing down another Wolf. "I liked that man!" "Who speaks?"
"I do," Belkram yelled. "Who are you to ask?" The last Wolf fell, and he hurried to join Itharr's rush forward to the room beyond.
There stood a hulking armored form as wide as them both but of their own height. It lowered its war helm, and they had a brief glimpse of blond hair, scarred cheeks, and cold, calculating eyes. "I am Gathen Srund," the rumbling voice came hollowly to them. "I was Left Axe to Lord Longspear. I will avenge him, rebel traitors." The armored man lumbered forward, hefting a huge warhammer. There were other Wolves behind him, but they stayed well back to watch.
The two Harpers looked at each other and darted a glance behind. All the Wolves were down, and three dalesmen were with them. A fourth dalesman sat against a wall, clutching his broken wrist and cursing softly.
"Have you noticed," Itharr remarked, "how pompous these Zhent bully blades always are? They occupy some place, usurping rightful rule and law, and then squeak of 'rebels' and 'traitors.' It's odd… "
"I have noticed that, yes," Belkram replied as the war-hammer swung, and they ducked and hastily sprang apart. "Scatter, men!" he added urgently over his shoulder to the dalesmen.
They needed no urging. Belkram heard the clatter of hasty booted feet receding, then the helm of their foe rang with hollow laughter. "Hah! See them run, large-mouths! What say you now?"
The two old men threw down their swords, halted by the overturned table, panted for an instant, and then heaved it up to their shoulders and came back to the fray in a stumbling rush.
Itharr attacked, slashing repeatedly and jabbing at the helm's eye slits, forcing Srund to use his hammer to parry, and pulling it to one side. The table was driven in through the gap Itharr had created, crashing into the Wolf and sending him staggering back.
"Well met," Belkram replied mildly in answer to Gathen Brand's taunt, as he sprang forward to get the war-hammer. He got a good grasp on it and was promptly dragged and battered about the floor as the awesomely strong Left Axe tried to wrench his weapon free.
"I wonder what the Right Axe is like?" Itharr asked him, stretching over the struggle to bury his blade in one of the eye slits of the Zhentilar's helm. Gathen stiffened, dropped the hammer, fumbled for it with failing fingers, and fell over on his side with a room-shaking crash.
The dalesmen rushed forward, but the room was emptying of Zhents as fast as they could flee. The warriors all ran down a passage to the right.
Belkram got up, breathing heavily, and watched them go. "I wager," he said slowly as he fought for breath, "that we'll… soon find out… once they get where they're going… and tell their tale."
Itharr nodded. "You're right," he said simply.
Then the two Harpers embraced each other and roared their delight. "What a fight this is!" Itharr shouted happily. "What a fight!"
The oldest dalesman looked at him, unsmiling, and shook his head. "They're still young, indeed," he said to another white-haired veteran, who only nodded.
Then they heard men begin to scream, down the passage.
* * * * *
Sharantyr came down the dark stairs like a vengeful wind. The lighted passage below was full of worried, running