Kery rose, catching his stride even as he did, and dashed from the
garden toward them. The familiar helmet and tunic might assure them for
the instant he needed but he had to run lest they notice.
"_Vashtung!_" shouted one of the men.
His meaning was plain enough. Kery launched his pike at the other who
still looked a bit uncertain. It was an awkward throwing weapon. It
brought him down wounded in a clatter of metal. The other roared and
stepped forth to meet the assault.
Kery's sword was out and whirring. He chopped at the pikeshaft that
jabbed at him, caught his blade in the tough wood and pushed the
weapon aside. As he came up face to face he kneed the Ganasthian with
savage precision.
The other man reached up and grabbed his ankle and pulled him down.
Kery snarled, the rage of battle rising in him. It was as if the pipes
of Broina skirled in his head. Fear and indecision were gone. He got
his hands on the soldier's neck and wrenched. Even as the spine snapped
he was rising again to his feet.
He picked up sword and pike and ran up the stairs and through the door.
Now--Sathi! He had one ally in this house of hell.
A long and silent corridor, lit by dim red cressets, stretched before
him. He raced down it and his boots woke hollow echoes that paced him
through its black length.
Two men in the dress of servants stood in the room into which he burst.
They stared wildly at him. He stabbed one but the other fled screaming.
He'd give the alarm but there was no time to chase. No time!
A staircase wound up toward the second story and Kery took it, flying
up three steps at a time. Dimly, below him, he heard the frantic tattoo
of a giant gong, the alarm signal, but the demon fury was fire and ice
in his blood.
Another servant gaped at him. Kery seized him with a rough hand and
held the sword at his throat.
"Sathi," he snarled. "Sathi--Ryvan--Sathi!"
The Ganasthian gibbered in a panic that seemed weird with his frozen
face. Kery grinned viciously and pinked him with the blade. "Sathi!" he
said urgently. "Sathi of Ryvan!"
Shaking, the servant led the way, Kery urging him ungently to greater
speed. They went up another flight of stairs and down a hallway richly
hung with furs and tapestries. Passing lackeys gaped at them and some
ran. Gods, they'd bring all Ganasth down on his neck!
Before a closed door stood a guardsman. Kery slugged the servant when
he pointed at that entrance and ran to meet this next barrier. The
guard yelled and threw up his pike.
Kery's own long-shafted weapon clashed forth. They stabbed at each
other, seeking the vitals. The guardsman had a cuirass and Kery's
point grazed off the metal. He took a ripping slash in his left arm.
The Ganasthian bored in, wielding his pike with skill, beating aside
Kery's guard.