The Vacant Throne - Ed Greenwood [101]
Kether trotted to catch up with his friend and resume their endless laconic converse about great riches and grand lives far from here, beautiful women to share it with, and warm beds one could snore in, from one end of every last Three-blessed night to another-and not spend the dark hours shivering along boundary rounds as a night guard.
They never talked about it, but Kether knew Borthor thought about waiting death just as often as he did. Prowling forest-cats and bears and brigands, he was sure, watched the Flagon from the dark forest depths on many a night-and it would only take one of them, once, to reach out at the right moment with claw or arrow or swordblade, to make the inn defenses permanently one night guard shorter.
Walking well away from the trees protected against a reaching attack, but made one a moonlit target for archers and those who liked to hurl daggers. And even the heaviest armor wouldn't stop a dagger through a visor-slit, or-
There was a faint crashing sound, and shouts, from deep inside the Flagon. Borthor's head turned, and he stopped to listen. More shouts, and a few clangs like swords meeting.
The two guards exchanged glances. More confused noise from within, but the alarm gong they were standing under remained silent. Out of habit they looked up at it-and then at the next one along the fence, about a hundred paces away-but the reign of silence continued.
The muffled tumult continued, as well. Borthor shook his head. "Wild time in the old inn this night," he observed in level tones, eyes roaming vainly in search of wisps of rising smoke or open shutters that might show more.
They stood listening for a time, looking at the silent gong once or twice, and then shook their heads in unison and resumed their patrol. "Some folk have a lot more life to them than I would, at this hour, for carousing," Borthor grunted.
"Our luck runs true," Kether replied with a rueful grin. "We always miss out on the fun."
"Invading armies, I'd not welcome," Borthor announced to the watchful night, "but I'd not mind a chance, just once, to join in a little lesser excitement. Even on this night, O watching gods, if it's not too much trouble, hmm?"
"We never have that sort of luck." Kether grinned, shaking his head.
Steel shrieked along steel as Hawkril strained against the largest guard, Embra reaching past him with flame to hold back the bladesman's fellows.
"Thought we'd be… easy prey, did you?" the armaragor snarled, as the guards of their blades locked together and he used his strength to carry them both sideways, to crash into the rail.
His foe, sweat streaming down his face beneath tangled hair, was panting too hard to reply. The other bladesmen tried to scramble around his flank, to strike at Hawkril-but were met by Embra's flame and table leg barring their way-and some tentative sword-thrusts at their backsides, as the inn guards advanced cautiously up the stairs with calls of, "Hoy! Down blades, now! Let this be ended!"
One of the bladesmen whirled around to hack a guard across the face. Blood spurted, a dozen men in the stairwell shouted at once, and the guard toppled back down the stair, fetching up in a loose heap against Nortreen's furious bulk.
"A rescue! A rescue!" the tapmaster bawled, waving his sword wildly. "To me, men of the Flagon!"
Abruptly steel clashed once more between Hawkril and the most weary of the bladesmen-and this time their striving blades bit together into the stair-rail. Hawkril followed it with a knee, catching the man in the chest.
The bladesman staggered, turned by the impact but reluctant to let go of his deep-sunken sword-and the thud of his armored body against the rail was followed by a splintering crash as the riven rail gave way, spilling him off the stair amid a cloud of tumbling splinters.
Sleepy guards were boiling into the stairwell from all directions, looking up at the battle on the stair and raising their swords. One of them was smashed flat under the falling bladesman-and his fellows pounced, slitting the man's throat before he could