2

⁠—⁠—⁠— II ⁠—⁠—⁠—

Guin swung his sword swiftly to right and left, sweeping down the stone stairs like a black and gold tornado, cutting down a never-ending stream of wildlings on both sides as he ran. He showed no signs of tiring. “Out of my way, wildling monkeys!” he yelled, his sword flickering and slashing, leaving tumbled mountains of corpses in his wake. His blade moved like lightning, dealing death with accurate blows—he was like the blood-soaked war god Ruah come down to earth.

As the leopard-man battled, he noted grimly to himself that the wildlings did fight bravely. It was almost as though the pre-human brains in those fur-covered skulls lacked the portions responsible for fear and self-preservation, so recklessly did they charge forward over the fallen bodies of their kin. He had little time to spend in observation, however, for they gave him little pause. A feline demon, he raged down the stair, not slowing until he reached the door to the cell chamber he thought he had left for good.

Oddly, the wildlings seemed to decrease in number as he went further down. Perhaps the main force had gone after other prey, leaving this tower to the group fighting Guin. The Sem had already abandoned this level—there were no keep forces here left to fight. Bodies—some Sem, some black knights, and a few prisoners—lay where they had fallen in the corridors and cell chambers. The cell doors stood ajar, some still swinging eerily. Yet Guin still had to deal with a new group of Sem who now ran up from below to face him, as well as the wildlings who were coming down after him from above.

Still, the odd quiet of the lower chambers puzzled him; and from outside… nothing. He could hear no sounds of the battle that had raged so furiously in the courtyard below.

So the keep has fallen.

Guin growled, and increased his pace. He had reached the place where Remus had said he would find the keys… and there, in the small open trough running against the wall that served as plumbing in the tower, he saw a metallic gleam. But he had no time to reach out for it, because at just that moment the Sem who had pursued him from the upper levels arrived. They fell on him ferociously, a dozen or two strong, and it was all he could do to keep them back with his sword.

If the final blow had been dealt to the keep, and the last of the defenders had fallen, the wildlings’ next move would surely be to set fire to whatever buildings remained. Guin didn’t have much time left.

He knocked the stone axe from one of the monkey-men’s hands with a skillful blow, then cut another small Sem from shoulder to gut on the backswing; then, with his back pressed against the wall, he fought, waiting for an opportunity to reach down and grab the key ring.

But the relentless onslaught gave him no pause—more drastic measures were needed if he was ever going to get those keys. Gritting his teeth, he turned his eyes from the swarm of fiends attacking him; then in one motion he hunched down and snatched the keys from the trough with a swipe of his left hand.

All this he did in the flicker of an eye—but in turning he had left his broad back exposed and undefended for that one moment. The Sem closest to him had hesitated for a tenth of a second, thinking that perhaps this was some sort of tactic, a trap to lure them in—but when they saw his eyes on the keys, they came in quickly with axes held high.

By that time, Guin was already starting to stand, but he had thrown away the advantage he had held before, and he looked up to see an axe whistling through the air, coming right at his head. Rapidly he blocked the blow with his sword, but the blade was slick with the blood of more than a hundred wildlings, and instead of bouncing off it, the axe slid along the steel, scraping Guin’s upper arm on its way down. Guin’s sword slipped out of his hand, bouncing off the wall with a clang.

“Look out—here!” came an unexpected cry from somewhere behind the Sem. It was followed by a new sword, arcing over the mass of furry heads towards the leopard-man, who snatched it out of the air with ease. Shifting his grip, he swung in a semi-circle, mowing down the wildlings closest to him just in time. Had the sword not come to him just then, a stone knife would surely have bitten into Guin’s left shoulder.

What a fine weapon he had received! The blade wasn’t even notched, and Guin cut into his foes with renewed strength, all the while searching for the one who had come to his rescue. There he was—fighting for his life against a group of wildlings who had broken off from attacking Guin to assail this newest combatant.

Guin’s mask was expressionless as always, but a satisfied laugh spilled out from underneath the rigid leopard jaw. The one who had thrown him the sword was none other than Orro, the young soldier from Torus.

“That is twice you’ve saved me, Orro of Torus!” roared Guin as he merrily dispatched a never-ending stream of wildlings.

Orro had his hands full with his group of Sem, but he shot a glance over at Guin and curled his lips into a smile. Still, he had taken many wounds, and he did not know whether he would be able to stop that big Sem that was—where did it go? His sword cut through empty space. During the fraction of a second that Orro’s attention had been turned to Guin, the wildling had slipped behind him and was now leaping, its axe raised above its head in mid-strike.

Orro sensed the attack and turned to meet it—a mistake, for the blade took him squarely in the forehead. His head was bare—he had already lost his helm down in the courtyard—and the axe cut deep. Orro staggered and spun around twice like a top, blood streaming from the cut, before falling heavily to the ground.

“Orro!”

Guin shouted the youth’s name and ran towards him, sending Sem flying through the air with every swing of his weapon. At last, the barbarous stream had abated—there were only a few left now. Lifting Orro from the ground with one hand, Guin turned on the remaining wildlings with his sword in the other, finishing them off in a couple of blows. Then he gently shook the young knight.

“Orro of Torus, don’t die on me!”

“I’m sorry…” gasped the youth in reply. “Ye… ye’d best get out of ’ere, while ye can. They’ll be back with more, they will…”

“E-Even if ye are the war-god Ruah, ye canna fight ’em all yer-self. There’s more of ’em than there are ghouls in the Roodwood…” Orro’s voice trailed off.

“Don’t talk,” said Guin. He had laid down his sword and begun looking about for a piece of cloth or anything else that might be used to bind Orro’s wound. The skin of the knight’s forehead was cleanly split, and it seemed that the axe had cracked his skull. Orro weakly shook his head.

“Flee, leopard-man. I did what I came ’ere ta do, and… on me way in I saw black smoke rising from the white tower. Wouldn’t do for a warrior like yerself ta b-be burning up in a foul place like this, eh? It… was good seein’ ye fight.”

“Don’t talk, Orro. You’ve saved me twice, now it’s my turn to return the favor.”

“All’s I did was give ye me sword. Y-You were the one what used it. You saved yerself… leopard-man? Wh-Where are ye?”

“Right here.” Guin waved his hand in front of Orro’s face. The youth’s eyes were staring into nothing, unfocused. “You want water?”

“No, I… ahh! Stafolos! Was she not beautiful? And now… what an ’orrible fate ta befall ’er… A captain fell, right before me eyes, ’e did, and Leede from back ’ome, and Eke—a good friend e was—all of them killed by those monkeys. Ach, curse the ’undred ears of that bloody geezer Jarn and the unjust fate he weaves.” Orro coughed. “I was supposed ta finish me tour here this spring, I was. Out of the Marches and back ta the beautiful streets of Torus…”

Orro’s throat made a rattling sound, and he fell silent. Guin held the youth still in his arms and watched the color of life slowly drain from his face.

Then the youth twitched. “Ach… it hurts. Aaah…”

“Do you want anything?”

“No… not anymore, not…”

“Have you family in Torus?”

“Well, I…”

Orro slowly licked his lips, then spoke with some difficulty. “Listen. Should ye ever need ’elp in Torus, ye go find Godaro at the Smoke and Pipe in the markets. That’s me father. ’E’s a good man, and ’e’ll want ta know ’ow ’is son died—fighting them Sem barbarians… a warrior’s death…”

“Godaro of Torus. I understand.” Guin took Orro’s hand. It was already cold, the grip weak. “You did good by me, Orro.”

Orro’s wounded face twisted into a smile. He opened his mouth. “Ye… yer a great warrior, leopard-man,” he whispered with the last of his strength. “If I’d not thrown ye me sword, I’d be no true war… warrior of Mongaul.”

His voice broke off, and Orro of Torus was gone.

Guin solemnly picked up his sword and laid the young knight’s body on the stone floor, swearing, ‘’The next dozen heads I take are for you.” The expressionless leopard mask tilted slightly forward.

Then Guin looked up from his crouch. His nose had caught a whiff of smoke, and he heard the sound of another commotion nearby. Sem reinforcements in the tower!

“Iyee! Yee!”

“Aiyy! Aiyy!”

Faintly Guin could hear the strange cries coming up the stairs. He leapt to his feet, and leaving Orro’s body behind, he sprang up the stairs once again. In a single breath he had reached the stone door that he had placed as a barricade. As he pushed it aside, he heard Remus’s voice choked with tears of relief.

“Oh, Guin!” Remus ran down to the foot of the last stair. “Guin, Guin, I thought they killed you…”

“What’s this?” said Guin, by way of reply. “It looks like you handled yourself in a manner befitting a prince!” He noted the five or so dead wildlings in the space beyond the barrier. “I had thought you a meek little dove, but I may have been hasty in my judgement.”

Remus’s cheeks glowed with pride. Guin brought out the keys and began trying each of them in turn in the door.

“That’s the one!” he growled at last as the lock emitted a soft click. The solid stone door swung open and Rinda came flying out.

“Remus!”

“Rinda! Rinda!”

The last hours had been the loneliest the twins had ever known—the Pearls of Parros separated for the first time in their lives. Now they hugged each other tight as though they would let nothing keep them apart again; they cried and kissed each other’s cheeks. They stopped only when Guin gave a sharp snort, his eyes flashing as he peered into the room behind Rinda.

A shrill scream came from the darkness. Rinda spun away from her brother and ran into the chamber, grabbing Guin’s raised sword arm with both hands.

“Wait, Guin, stop! That’s my friend! Suni’s harmless, she’s good! Stop!”

“Your friend?”

“The Black Count captured her—that’s why the other Sem are here, they’ve come to save her! Once they see that she’s okay they’ll let us go, I know it!”

“I think not!” howled Guin. “Children, behind me! They’re coming up the stairs!”

“Suni will talk to them!”

“Behind me I said, little fool princess!” he barked. “Doal be burned! They’re bringing fire up with them. Those little monkeys can swing down from here on vines, but we’ll be cooked to a crisp in this tower, or—they come!”

The first bunch of wildlings rounded the last corner of the stairwell, reaching the top floor of the tower. Suni ran out of the room, going forward to meet them. But when she saw the first few Sem, she gave a shrill cry and leapt back behind Guin and the twins.

“Suni, what’s wrong?”

Suni was chattering rapidly in her high voice.

“What is it? Your friends are here to save you! Talk to them, Suni! Tell them we’re friends!”

“That won’t help,” said Guin. “She says they aren’t from the Raku tribe she belongs to. These Sem are her tribe’s enemies, the Karoi.”

“Guin!” Rinda raised her hand to her mouth, which was gaping in surprise. ‘You understand her language!”

“So it seems… but that’s of little use to us now. It seems our luck has just run out. This girl cannot help us; and below we have Sem chieftains who are unlikely to spare us, and raging fires, which certainly won’t—and the Mongauli garrison is sure to be wiped out by now, which means—”

“Guin, look out!”

Guin deftly knocked aside an arrow that came flying up the corridor. “Into the room!” he shouted. Swiftly he pushed the three children ahead of him into the narrow chamber, then slammed the stone door shut.

He locked it firmly behind them. “That should hold them for a while—not that we’re much better off in here than out there.” Outside, the wildlings rained curses on the door, furious at having missed their quarry by mere seconds.

“At least now we’re together,” said Rinda. “Even if we’re to die here, it’s better than being apart.” She and Remus embraced again, but the little wildling girl Suni scampered over to the corner where she curled into a shivering ball.

“Now, come here Suni,” Rinda called gently. “Poor Suni, if they had been from your tribe you’d be safe by now, wouldn’t you. Come here, come…”

Suni hesitantly sidled over to the larger girl and clung to her arm.

Guin, watching them, said gruffly, “I will not die here.” He paced around the small stone chamber. “I do not even know who I am, or how I came to look like this, and no Nospherus monkey is going to stop me from getting my answers.”

“But…”

“Guin!” shouted Remus suddenly. “The door! They’re breaking down the door!”

From the other side of the door came a horrendous crash as something very heavy slammed into it. Another crash followed, and another and another until the four in the room could hardly hear themselves think.

“Aram!” Guin laughed. “Those monkeys are smarter than I thought!”

“Guin!” Rinda held her hands together and raised them over her head toward the ceiling. “The Nospherus barbarians take their captives and offer them to their gods—they torture them, and eat them alive, I’ve heard! If they should break through that door, Guin, I beg you—take your sword and kill us first… and Suni, too, if she wishes it!”

“Rinda!” Remus sobbed, grabbing onto her.

Then they looked up. Over the increasingly deafening crashing of the ram, they could hear Guin laughing.

“The accursed Black Count had it right! You were born with a queen’s pride, Rinda Farseer. But you’re a little quick to give up. We still have a chance… We must hope until all hope is lost, until our very last breath; we must hope—and fight! That is the true meaning of pride.”

Rinda started to protest, but just then the stone door cracked, jagged fissures radiating from a small hole that had opened in its center. Dust and small fragments showered the room. Guin picked up his sword.

“Guin, give me a sword! I’ll fight, too,” Rinda shouted.

“Get your backs against the wall so they can’t surround you,” was Guin’s reply. Pushing the three children behind him, he began backing toward the wall farthest from the door, which was concealed behind a thick-woven tapestry.

With a wild cry of victory, the wildlings came leaping through the breached door, waving their stone axes above their heads. Guin found himself fighting for his life once again, but this time the roof was close above him and the room was dark, putting him at a disadvantage. Each time he swung his massive sword, it would hit a wall or skip off the ceiling after taking a Sem’s head.

Guin growled and kept retreating.

“We can’t go back any further, Guin!” shouted Remus, “we’re right up against the—whaaat?” Remus put his hand through the tapestry and toppled. The wall behind had entirely disappeared!

“Ahh!” Rinda’s scream trailed off as she, Guin, and Suni followed Remus, sucked into the darkness that opened behind them. An instant later the secret portal that had opened swung back shut, leaving the startled Sem staring at the gently swaying tapestry, a solid stone wall, and nothing else.