The Tyranny Of The Night Part 58

"He isn't here yet. They're in a running fight with the Brotherhood. Have been all day."

Ghort said, "That puts us in better shape than I hoped.

They'll all be focused on that kid and how to use him to confound the work of the Lord."

Even Doneto seemed taken aback by Ghort's sudden pa.s.sion.

He grinned. "Got you going, eh? But am I wrong? Princ.i.p.ate, what we need is a way out of here. When you guys found this, back when, you said there was one."

Zaino came sliding out of the large drain. His candle had gone out. He had a gray cast to him. He did not like being in tight places in the dark. He rasped, "That goes on for maybe a hundred feet, uphill, curves left, goes past these big cistern things. There's ladders in those. It goes on to the downhill end of a dead-end street that looks like it runs through the middle of everything."

Ghort asked, "Can we get out that way?"

Zaino glanced around. "I could. Some of you would have to be greased up, though. All the water from this one long street is supposed to run down to this drain thing that's about ten inches high by three feet wide."

"Say no more," Ghort said. "I've got you. Can we get into the cisterns?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. We're on our way."

Fifteen minutes later Else peered out the cracked doorway of what his memorized maps labeled Waterhouse Four. By twilight al-Khazen appeared to be an abandoned ruin. Nothing bigger than a rat moved or made a sound.

"Move! Sir," someone said behind him.

There was not much room. People were supposed to come get water and go.

Else slipped outside, followed Ghort. "You know where we are, Pinkus? This is almost too good to be true."

The party moved into a cramped structure that, until recently, had housed Devedian jewelers, letter writers, and moneylenders.

"Pinkus, you've done an incredible job."

"But you're gonna take it away from me now, eh?"

"In part, yes."

"You're the boss, Pipe."

"What were you going to do next?"

"Me?" Ghort grinned. "You want the truth?"

"Yes."

"I figured whoever was tagging along, you or somebody from the Collegium, would take it away from me before this."

"Eis's b.a.l.l.s, Pinkus, you're the sorriest, most cynical b.a.s.t.a.r.d on the face of the earth."

"Does that make me wrong?"

"No. Princ.i.p.ate. What's the story now? Does it look like we can steal Lothar back and make the Grail Emperor love us?"

"Yes. And no. And yes. And no."

Ghort said, "Women love a man who's confident and knows right where he stands."

Doneto gave Ghort a look that suggested the Princ.i.p.ate was considering rendering him down for fat.

"I take it back if I'm wrong."

Doneto told Else, "We're perfectly positioned. When they bring their captives in they have to pa.s.s by here to reach the palace and the citadel. We can jump them, grab Lothar, and run like h.e.l.l. I'd leave b.o.o.by traps to slow them down while we escape back to our covering force."

"That sounds just plain totally alluring," Ghort said.

Else scowled. He was in that cleft between Else Tage and Piper Hecht. "Can you tell what the Brotherhood has managed to do?"

"No. Sit down and be quiet."

Time pa.s.sed. Else napped. A hand shook him. He found Ghort and Doneto looming over him.

Doneto murmured, "The Pramans have shaken the Brotherhood. They kept hold of their prisoners. They'll arrive soon. There's less celebration, now. They got hurt, badly. As you might expect, seeing they had to break through a band hand-picked by Grade Drocker."

Pinkus Ghort asked, "How many people do we need to rescue?"

Doneto ignored him.

Else asked, "How many of them were there?" He recalled seeing about twenty pa.s.s the wine-pressing house.

Still, Doneto said nothing. Else prodded. "Is it a secret, Your Grace?"

"I don't know," Doneto snapped. "There should be seven prisoners. Most all wounded."

That made sense. The Braunsknechts would not give up without a fight "Now we're getting somewhere," Else said. "What else? We're going to be in a fight in a while. What you hold back might get us all killed."

Scowling, dejected at having to share any knowledge with anyone, Doneto replied, "There were nineteen men with Lothar. Two were his servants. Two were priests. Two were Brotherhood of War. Ten were Braunsknechts. The rest were more mysterious. Though we saw them in Plemenza."

"Ferris Renfrow. Of course. The Emperor's head spy. He was under foot a lot when we were getting ready for this squabble."

"Yes. I don't think he's one of the captives."

The Sha-lug who captured Lothar, Else believed, deserved the greatest honor.

Else asked, "Do you know anything that might be useful now?" His tone informed the whole band that he was straining to remain patient "Reminding you, what you don't say could get you dead with the rest of us."

Doneto said, "They're sending out more of their best men to cover the raiders. For their trouble they're getting Lothar, a priest who made no effort to avoid capture, two half-dead brothers from the cult of war, and several Braunsknechts in equally bad shape, still alive only because those in charge want to interrogate them."

Doneto intoned, "Tell me about that building there. Two up and across the street It feels empty."

"It should be," Else said. "It was the Dainshau temple and exchange. They abandoned it after the Unbelievers arrived."

"Do you know every building in the city, Hecht?"

"Only the ones that the refugees said were important."

"Suppose some of us occupy that building and the rest stay here. The ones over there hit first. Then those of us here s.n.a.t.c.h Lothar once the Pramans start to react there. They'll be feeling safe and relaxed. We can hit and get."

Else was not pleased. But he was no Grade Drocker. He could not tell a Princ.i.p.ate to shut up and get out of the way. "Pinkus, you'd better warn the reserves to be ready."

"That's their job, Pipe. They're on it now."

Else asked Doneto, "Can you tell, is that building really empty? There have been a lot of cold, snowy nights since the Dainshaukin fled."

"Go check," Doneto suggested. "If n.o.body cuts your throat, it's safe."

Else did exactly that. But alone. He could pa.s.s himself off as a Dreangerean for as long as it took to become invisible again.

The Dainshau structure had not remained empty. Soldiers had moved in but were not at home now. But, as Else was about to summon reinforcements, the Pramans with the Imperial prisoners appeared.

Else muttered, "Pinkus, I hope you have smarts enough to manage."

Of course he did. A better question might be, would Doneto refrain from interfering?

The Pramans were not alert. And why should they be, deep inside their own stronghold, when they were now confident of their ultimate victory? They were hurrying, in no formation, cracking the dark jokes men make after they have stuck a thumb in Death's eye and gotten away. The first dozen wore Lucidian helmets and rags that had started out as the uniform clothing of Indala al-Sul Halaladin's home cavalry. Next came the prisoners, in the care of Mafti al-Araj el-Arak's lifeguards. Eight or nine Sha-lug brought up the rear.

Something dark and noisome rose from the cobblestones in front of the Lucidians. The stench made Else want to retch. Then Ghort struck from the downhill side. The Lucidians and Calzirans panicked. The Sha-lug were less affected. Even so, Else was embarra.s.sed by their feeble resistance.

Ghort reclaimed the prisoners with little effort.

Many of the fleeing Pramans ran into the building whence Else was watching.

A second stinking shadow hoisted itself up in the gap between the Pramans and Ghort's raiders.

Else had no opportunity to get away. He dove into a shadowy corner, burrowed into a pile of junk and equipment needing repair, pulled some rags up to cover his face, and fought to control his breathing.

It had been a long time since he had heard his own language spoken. It took several minutes to get back into it.

There were twenty angry men within fifteen feet. Some cursed. Some threw things. Some wanted to counterattack right now, never mind that they had no idea what they faced. Never mind that they were so exhausted that they could barely stand.

A hand pa.s.sed through Else's limited field of vision. It grabbed a broken saddle from near his hidden feet, flipped it onto its side. A man sat down. He panted, having trouble breathing. He slumped in defeat and a despair beneath which lay anger like molten stone. The man believed he had been misused, wasted, possibly even betrayed.

The twenty were a mixture of Lucidians, Calzirans, and Sha-lug. They went out again after a few minutes. The man seated on the saddle did not join them. Those who spoke to him received only grunts in response.

This was the man in charge, Else realized. And he was hurt. He did try to follow the others but did not have the strength.

Else slapped a hand across the wounded man's mouth as he came out of hiding. He would do no harm if he could help it. Then he gasped. "Bone?"

The wounded man looked at Else like he had met his own ghost.

Else turned. "Bone? That is you, isn't it?"

"Captain Tage? But you're dead. For more than a year."

"Hunh. I hadn't heard. When did this happen?"

"They said you were killed by an infidel sorcerer the day you landed in Firaldia."

"They did? Interesting." Inasmuch as he had been sending reports until the city regiment left Brothe. "Who would that 'they' be?"

"Er-Rashal, Captain. He told everybody. The Marshall was seriously disappointed, mostly because he didn't get more use out of you. He wasn't sorry you were dead."

Else's deepest, most secret suspicions seemed confirmed. "Is that our company out there?"

"What's left. And some Lucidians and natives we've been working with. Captain, I'm pretty sure we're here to get wiped out. We get all the worst jobs. We keep losing men. We left Az out there somewhere this time."

"I don't want anyone to know I survived. Not yet. The third sorcerer. The mystery man. That would be er-Rashal himself. Right?"

"Uh... Yes. But how could you know?"

"You know. And probably shouldn't. Right? Bone, we know almost everything there is to know, over there. We have copies of the pay lists of the Calziran companies."

"The Deves."

"They aren't happy about how they were treated here."

"You said 'we.' Who are you now, Captain?"

"Still Else Tage. Your Captain. I was given an a.s.signment. I'm living it. I've had tremendous success, news of which apparently hasn't gotten back to al-Qarn." Else shielded Bone from details the man might be tempted to pa.s.s along.

"Bone, I have no idea what er-Rashal is up to. He's managed to waste Dreanger's fleet and a lot of Sha-lug. He isn't going to win here. He seems blind to the real situation. Do us both a favor. Get out before he gets you killed. Get out and carry the word back to al-Qarn."

Bone looked distinctly uncomfortable. Pained in his heart and flesh. "Can't, Captain. We swore the oath. We all did, back when we thought this would stop the crusaders from coming."

Else did not argue. This kind of commitment might seem foolhardy but it was critical to Sha-lug. "Will his death release you?"

"Yes."

Else rested a hand on his old friend's shoulder. "Don't chase us tonight, Bone. Don't make us kill you when we come back. I'm leaving, now. Forget you saw me."

Else darted out of the temple. There was action around Waterhouse Four but the big racket was somewhere else, off to the east Else caught s.n.a.t.c.hes before he clambered down into the cistern of Waterhouse Two. Braunsknechts had seized a gate. Imperial troops were in the city.

Else's escape attempt ended quickly. Scores of Pramans had gotten into the drainage system through Waterhouse Four, chasing the raiders. Else stayed where he was, hoping to go unnoticed, wishing he wore less distinctively Chaldarean clothing.

34. Stalkers' Hour