The Alabaster Staff - Edward Bolme [92]
"Ekur!" she gasped, and her knees began to tremble.
He whipped his shaven head around like a bull to face the young woman. She stared in shock. He'd gained more wrinkles, built himself a sag of pudge beneath his neck and a mantle of fat over his body, and removed the priestly third circle from his forehead, but there was no longer any mistaking the piggish, hateful eyes that burned beneath his brow. He raised one sodden arm and pointed.
"Kill her," he shouted hoarsely. "No quarter-I want her dead!"
Kehrsyn didn't have the leeway to make a break for the front door, so she fled up the stairs. Behind her she heard Ekur begin working some magic as the guards gave chase, yelling for help.
As she rounded the stairs, she saw a flash of magical magenta light flare against her trailing hand. She winced from the flare, but felt no ill effects as she ran.
Not knowing any better way to leave the building, she sprinted to the second floor, passed the startled guardsman in the center of the hall before he could figure out what was happening, darted down to and through her room, and leaped out the window to the alley below. She landed poorly on the hard dirt and had to roll to avoid injuring her knee. Soaked through with muddy water, she regained her feet and checked to ensure the wand was still in her sash. Then, just as she was about to put her cloak on, she saw that it was glowing with a bright magenta light, the aura of Ekur's spell.
She put it on anyway and ran off into the rainy night.
Several of the inhabitants of Wing's Reach lounged in the common dining area, enjoying the fire and gambling at dice and sava. Demok sat to one side, whetting his long sword and occasionally offering advice on odds and plays, sipping a goblet of dry wine purchased from some Chessentan mercenaries during the campaign season.
An outcry rang through the building, a pair of voices calling the building to arms. Behind it, Demok heard the unmistakable sound of magic being woven. He leaped to his feet, sheathing his long sword and drawing his short sword, the better tool for indoor work.
He burst into the hall and ran to the foyer, where most of the commotion seemed to originate. Ahegi stood by the open front doors, leaning with one hand against the jamb and panting heavily, soaked through and absent his rain cloak.
Demok ran up to him, a questioning look on his face.
"That whore," panted Ahegi, pointing up the stairs. "The new one. Kill her."
Demok turned to the stairs and heard the heavy clatter of the two guards charging after the lone fugitive, shouting imprecations and calls for assistance. Instead of following them, he sheathed his sword, snagged the lantern that hung over the guards' table, and ran outside, heading for the stables. He kicked open the stable boy's door, which stood to the side of the big barn doors. By the light of his lantern, he saw the stable boy sitting on his bale of hay, bleary eyes wide with surprise. Demok grabbed the loose end of the blanket in which the stable boy was wrapped and gave it a hard pull, spinning the boy out of the blanket and into the cold night’s s air.
"A bridle, boy!" ordered Demok, raising his voice to help the command cut through the haze of sleep. "Now!"
The boy stumbled to his task, not even yet fully awake or aware of his surroundings.
Demok moved quickly through the stables to his mount's stall. The lantern he hung from a nail that jutted from a post. He opened the paddock's gate, pulled the blanket from the horse's back and spoke gently to it. His hand on the back of the horse's neck, he began to lead it out.
Near the front of the stable, he saw the boy trying to figure out why he was up and around with a bridle in his hand.
"Here, boy!" shouted Demok, and the boy tripped over, one hand offering the reins.
With the skill of a lifelong horseman, Demok strapped the bit and bridle to his horse.
"Open the gate!" he shouted, and