“No!” she shrieked. “Out of the way!” She threw herself into space as dozens of Liskash appeared around both sides of the building.
No Mrem could make that leap and live, but Scaro moved. To his endless admiration, she tucked herself in a ball in midair, and hit the ground rolling. She came up on her feet with a look of satisfaction. She was hardly even dusty.
“My lady,” he croaked. He and Neer hastened to stand between her and the host of dinos now surrounding them. Cleotra moved her body, hands and tail in a hypnotic pattern. The closer he was to her, the stronger Scaro felt.
Less daring than she, Ysella slid down the ladder in Sherril’s wake. Petru and Emoro brought up the rear with the eight and half-eight of warriors. The big oaf of a valet was gasping for breath. He didn’t matter. What did was obeying the bidding of the Dancer.
“Come with me,” he said. He thrust out the dagger and prepared to fight his way through.
“No,” Sherril said. He walked up to Scaro and took the knife away from him. Scaro nearly kicked him in the belly for that, but Emoro waved a hand.
Sherril held up his hands as the countless uniformed lizards crowded them against the wall.
“We surrender,” he said. “Lord Tae wants us as his slaves. We give up. Take us to him.”
“What are you doing?” Ysella gasped.
“Why, giving in to superior numbers, child,” Sherril said, with a pitying expression. “We are overwhelmed. It is obvious that the noble has decided we are too great a prize to lose.”
A spear nudged Scaro in the side.
“Give us the weapons,” another brass-hat said to him.
Sherril passed over the dagger and signed to all the warriors to do the same. His innocent expression put Scaro on alert. He had to give credit to the wily elder. They wanted to get into the stronghold.
Surrounded by an endless field of ugly slate-colored faces, Scaro marched his warriors toward the keep. Above his head, he saw the flash of metal. More Liskash guards awaited them on the first level. His keen sight picked up not only spears, swords and blades, but chains. Lord Tae intended to bind them before he had them dragged into his sight.
“Clawmaster…?”
“Drillmaster, I see,” Emoro said mildly. “Don’t let it happen.”
“Yes, sir,” Scaro said.
“Climb,” the brass-hat said, as they reached the wall. Scaro put a foot on the rung. “The females first!”
“Sorry, I don’t understand your accent,” Scaro said. He swung up, signing to his men to follow him.
When they had all reached the first walkway, lizard guards reached out to seize him.
“Lord Tae wants only the females,” their commander said to the brass-hat. “Chain them and kill the rest.”
Scaro waited just long enough for one of the lumbering fools to come toward him with the chain in its hands. He stepped forward, grabbed the hanging links, and elbowed the guard in the face.
Momentarily stunned, it let go of the hank of chain and clapped its hands to its face. Scaro came around with a roundhouse kick and knocked the guard off the wall. It wailed as it fell. The guards took so long to react that he had time to whip another with the armful of chain. It dropped its pike. Neer seized it and stuck it between the guard’s feet. It, too, screamed in its death fall.
“Go, Dancers,” Scaro gritted, swinging the chain back and forth in a deadly figure-eight. He backed up toward them, keeping the dinos at bay. The enemy tried to pass, but he smacked down one after another. Blood lust rose in him as white bones pierced through gray skin and green blood spattered the walls.
“We can’t get to the ladders!” Ysella cried.
“Put your foot in my hand, child,” Emoro said. He boosted her upward. She scrambled over the edge of the next level and disappeared. Gilas followed her, finding clawholds invisible to the naked eye. Cleotra shinned up as easily as if it was a level floor. Scaro admired her. He hoped he would get to tell her one day. “Stay alive if you can, Drillmaster. I’d hate to lose you.”
Easier said than done, Scaro mused. But the others had gone, climbing the walls like spiders. It didn’t matter now what happened to him. He hissed at the onslaught of Liskash guards.
“Get me if you can, worms!”
Ysella sprang to her feet on the stone walkway and spat out a mouthful of dust. Gilas pulled her up by the elbow.
“Are you all right, my lady?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she said. She wanted to glance over the edge, but the roiling masses of Liskash at the base of the building terrified her. She felt the pounding in her head. Lord Tae was calling them. She would not submit! “Will he die?”
Gilas twisted his mouth and his ears lowered. “I don’t know, but he’s good, Dancer. I have to protect you.”
“Run, Ysella,” Cleotra said. Her eyes glowed with anger, Ysella hoped not at her. “We must reach the throne room.” She sped fleetly toward the next ladder. Two guards panted in her wake. Ysella and Gilas ran to catch up with them.
Their goal was all the way at the corner of the building. Ysella concentrated on reaching it, and not hearing the screams and the clashing of metal. Scaro must live!
A cry came, not from the walkway, but from behind her. Ysella spun. Gilas lay at her feet. Looming down on her was a gigantic Liskash with a metal helmet and a tunic covered with plates. More of his kind were coming up behind him.
He reached for her. Ysella cowered.
“Cleotra!” she cried.
Her mentor was almost to the ladder.
“You are a Dancer, Ysella!” she shrieked. “Act like one! You have the skills! I must reach Lord Tae!”
With that, she leaped for the ladder and swarmed up it. Petru and Sherril stayed close behind her. A claw of warriors went with them.
Emoro ran back with the rest of the Mrem. He wielded a bronze-hafted spear. “Behind me, Priestess!”
“No,” Ysella cried. “Cleotra is right! I can do it!”
She began to weave back and forth before the enormous Liskash. It watched her in fascination as she bounded in past his guard. The ritual of the Destruction of the Great Mountain would serve here. Ysella felt deep inside herself for the connection to the infinite. The power of Aedonniss was with her, as were her distant sisters. She felt the power growing inside her.
Emoro charged past her and struck the Liskash with the polearm. The point caught between the plates on the creature’s chest. It grabbed for the shaft and twisted. Emoro staggered within a hand of falling over the side. His warriors swarmed over the huge guards. They screamed out war cries that stirred Ysella’s blood. She Danced faster.
The guards began to look confused. The throbbing in her head subsided. Lord Tae’s presence was driven not only away from her, but from the Liskash as well!
“That’s it, girl,” Emoro said, encouragingly. He took swift advantage of the first guard’s wavering, and plunged the spear into its open mouth. Green blood spurted out. It splashed on Ysella. She gasped, looking down at the green liquid running through her fur. It was hot.
The shock made her lose her place in the dance. The constricted feeling came back in force. Lord Tae wanted her to surrender, to kneel on the ground. She felt her knees go weak. The hot sun beat down on her head, making it ache more. She trembled with fear. Emoro glanced away from the guard he had just smashed in the teeth.
“Help us, Priestess!” he shouted. “Do it for the sake of that boy, if nothing else! He worships your very feet! If you don’t Dance us out of here, I can’t see how we can retrieve him and heal his wounds.”
“Gilas?” she asked, shakily. “Not Scaro?”
“Yes, Gilas! He’s a good youngster. I want him to grow up and be a mighty warrior. Help us! Help him.”
Ysella put her soul into her Dance, more deeply than she had ever done in her life. Gilas was in love with her. She should not have ignored that. When a heart was given, it was a precious gift!