One of the guards nearby recognized him even before Blade could shout out his own name. «The Pendarnoth!» screamed the man. «Oh Holy Guardian spare us, the Pendarnoth himself has come against us! Fly, fly, fly!» The last word broke off in a scream of surprise and agony as one of the man's comrades cut him down. A moment later Blade's own sword whistled down onto the killer's shoulder. It sliced through the man's collarbone and half of his ribs before it came to a stop. The man toppled sideways so fast that he jerked the sword out of Blade's hand. For a moment Blade stood in the midst of Klerus' men armed only with his dagger.
But most of them were not so brave or so defiant of the Pendarnoth as his first victim. Most of them were scrambling backward, moaning and crying pleas for mercy. Few of them found it: Klerus' guards went down whether they fled or fought, and Blade could not have called off his men if he had wanted to.
Blade himself barely had time to snatch his sword from the body of his first victim and raise it again when a tall figure sprang at him from beside Klerus. Blade recognized Threstar, the High Captain of the Council's Archers. The man was fighting with two swords and both of them whistled and leaped about Blade's ears. He ducked and leaped and parried, realizing that Threstar was trying to drive him away from the stairs. That would open a path for Klerus to flee into the safety of the temple.
Blade stood his ground as Threstar came at him, although it took all his strength and speed to keep both of the man's swords away from his flesh. The man was fast and strong and determined, and Blade knew he couldn't take any chances. For a moment both men went at it with everything they had in them, but Blade knew he could not afford a prolonged duel with Threstar. Behind the High Captain he could see the massive bulk of Klerus. He was edging around to Blade's right, about to make a dash for the door. Beyond Klerus the darkness was a hideous tangle of fighting and screaming figures. Klerus' guards had realized they could expect no mercy, and they were fighting for their lives.
Threstar closed again, and this time one sword reached out far enough to slice open Blade's scalp just above his left ear. But that reach was a fraction of an inch and a fraction of a second too long. For a moment Threstar's left armpit was turned toward Blade and open to his attack. Blade's dagger lunged out and up, stabbing deeply into the armpit. Threstar gasped and twisted away so fast that the dagger pulled out of Blade's hand. But that was the last time Threstar would move so fast. The dagger had reached his lungs. He choked, and bubbles of blood appeared on his lips. As he slowed, Blade's sword flashed down and smashed Threstar's right-hand sword aside. Then it kept on going, plunging down and sinking deep into Threstar's thigh. This time the High Captain not only reeled but fell.
Blade did not wait to see him go down, because Klerus was rushing forward. A sword gleamed in his massive hands and darted back and forth as he charged. If he could not have safety, he would at least have Blade's life.
Blade gave way before the assault, and for a moment it looked as if Klerus would have a clear run to the door. But Klerus was too blind with fury to see anything but Blade. He lurched forward again. This time he slipped on the blood now flowing freely on the pavement, but he stayed on his feet. Blade parried one of Klerus' slashes, but it came down on his sword like a hammer on an anvil and nearly knocked the sword out of his hand. Again he stepped back, and again Klerus followed him.
But the High Councilor was short-winded from too many years as an intriguer rather than a fighter. He could not keep up such a furious attack for very long. In the swelling dawn light Blade saw sweat pouring off Klerus' jowls, and heard the man's breath rasping in his throat.
Blade waited until Klerus had committed himself to a slash, then closed. He was relying on his own superior speed and the dagger which flashed in his hand. It drove straight forward into Klerus' massive belly. It was not a wound fatal at once, but it stopped the High Councilor dead in his tracks. His mouth opened, and he let out a high-pitched scream of agony and surprise. Blade dropped his dagger, stepped back, and raised his sword with both hands. As Klerus' sword sagged toward the pavement, Blade's also came down. It flashed down at an angle, slicing into Klerus' massive neck, slicing through it. In a spray of blood, Klerus' head leaped from the neck and arched down to the pavement to land with a thud. The huge body stood upright for another moment, blood fountaining from the severed neck. Then it toppled with a much louder thud. It did not even twitch.
Blade stepped back and looked around him. Dawn was breaking over the city, revealing the blood scattered bodies in the street. He counted them. Nearly all of Klerus' men and less than a third of his own force were dead. Perhaps some had fled, but he was not going to worry about them now.
Guroth came toward him, picking his way cautiously across the littered and blood-smeared stones. The High Captain had a strip of cloth bound roughly around his left hand, where the thumb and forefinger were missing. But his unhooded face shone with joy as well as sweat.
«We have done it, oh Pendarnoth. Now for the Lanyri!»
Blade grinned and nodded. «You're wounded, Captain.»
Guroth pointed at Blade's blood-caked scalp. «So are you, Pendarnoth.»
«A little. Perhaps we had both better clean ourselves before we wait on King Nefus. He will want to hear the news that he is now truly King of Pendar.»
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Blade was able to lead his men back to the palace before the sun rose much higher and the streets filled with people. Those few who were up early scuttled hastily away from the large band of armed men carrying a shrouded body through the streets. Over the past few years Klerus' men had made people wary of being too inquisitive about such sights. Even as he was being carried dead through the streets of Vilesh, Klerus' reputation was clearing the way for the men who had killed him.
But rumors move faster than marching men. Before he was halfway to the palace, Blade heard alarm gongs and horns sounding in the palace. Yellow smoke began to spiral up from signal fires and he heard the roll of drums. The palace garrison must already be pouring out of its barracks. Blade knew that it contained many of Klerus' sympathizers. Though nothing these men might do could bring the High Councilor or his plots back to life, they might still send Blade and Guroth after Klerus. Blade was prepared to pay that price. But he was hardly enthusiastic about the idea.
Blade ordered the guardsmen to step up their pace, and they moved through the streets at a jog. Guroth brought up the rear, urging the men on. Soon they broke out into the main square of Vilesh and saw the white walls and gilded roofs of the palace gleaming in the rising sun. But that same sun also shined on the armor of the palace garrison already filing out into the square. With strung bows ready, they stood in a deep line across the gates.
Blade realized that he had to move fast before some officer sympathetic to Klerus decided to stage an «accident.» But the only effective move he could see might be as suicidal as doing nothing. He would walk out into the empty square alone, calling to the soldiers, relying on their unwillingness to fire on the Pendarnoth.
He called Guroth to him and explained his plan. The High Captain was too surprised to say anything, either in praise or in protest. He stood there gaping as Blade turned and strode out into the square, head up and arms at his side.
Silence fell fog like on the square as Blade strode out toward the waiting soldiers. He kept his eyes roaming along the line, trying to seem as if he were looking each soldier individually in the eye. Only one soldier was needed to nock an arrow and fire to bring things to an end. But at least the guardsmen behind him could see what happened and perhaps run for cover.