A thought struck me and I called out. “Hamath, slow down a bit.”
He looked back, “Come again?”
“Slow down. They’re getting tired. We don’t want to lose them yet,” I huffed.
“Why not?”
“Because they’re just going to go back and find the others.”
He grunted. “So, what’s the plan?”
“You peel off and get back to the wagons. Make sure Captain Nehab wasn’t targeted. If he was, then meet us by that lake we passed on the way to the city. If he’s all right, help him get the wagons hitched and out of the city to that same lake. Direct others who make it out of the city over to that point. We’ll try to buy you some more time.”
“All right.”
He took the first right and disappeared. Ira moved up and took his spot. I tried to focus on the pace he kept rather than the burning in my legs. It was disheartening that just after a short time on the road, I already felt out of shape.
Dragging or not, we all had to keep moving. Ira made sure of that as we weaved in and out of alleys and side streets that cut through several more commonly traveled roads. Twice we had run-ins with small groups of citizens trying to box off our escape. Twice we survived, leaving dead and dying in our wake.
The swarming mob had begun to catch up to us for a third time, pushing our path farther west of the city center. Ira led us down another trash-filled, grime-covered, death-smelling, alley. The alley banked right, hiding the fact that it ended in a dead end with the brick walls of buildings all around us.
Ira swore.
“Turn around. Hurry,” I huffed.
We wheeled quickly, Dekar leading as we retraced our steps. We only made it back as far as the bend before Dekar pulled up. A small horde of citizens pushed their way into the mouth of the narrow pass, stopping as they realized they had us.
“Xank be damned,” said Ira behind me.
I counted fifteen men, which were at least ten too many, and fifteen more than I preferred. They held their position hunched over and huffing for air. Thankfully, they were in far worse shape than we were and that was after a night of drinking. I wasn’t going to let that advantage slip by.
My eyes scanned the dark alley, seeing for the first time a ledge above our heads jutting out from the building to the right. It was only about two feet wide and looked to be of no use other than adding an architectural touch to the structure. It would have to do. Another eight feet above the ledge, closer to the alley’s entrance, rested a small balcony that hung off a third story window.
“Tyrus?” asked Dekar.
“Up the ledge, then to the balcony. Quick,” I hissed.
“That ledge has gotta be nine feet, Ty. I ain’t no frog,” said Ira.
“Better become one,” I muttered. Having recovered enough from their jaunt through the city, Damanhur’s citizens started coming forward.
Someone from the mob shouted. “Why don’t you boys come along now? We can end this nonsense and take you to the watch for questioning.”
“Under what charges?” I hollered.
“Arson. Assault. Murder.”
“All done in self-defense,” I said. “What about the charges against you for attacking us?”
The man said nothing more. I took that to mean that our conversation was over.
I whispered. “Dekar give your brother a boost and then get up afterward. I’ll buy some time.”
Sword in hand, I strode toward fifteen men like a legend of old, ready to take them all down in a single blow. At least that’s how I hoped I appeared. The lingering effects of the alcohol gave me a false bravado, even if the spots of vomit on my shirt worked against the image.
Grunting sounded behind me as the brothers worked on getting up to the ledge. The mob saw their efforts, called out, and picked up their pace. I ran ahead six steps to a stack of old crates, stopping where the alley narrowed. I figured that the four men running abreast would narrow down to two or three once blades started swinging. Odds were still in their favor, but I could at least hold out for a little while against that number. Hopefully, Dekar or Ira would figure out a way to get me to safety in the meantime.
At the last minute, I kicked over the crates. The three men in the lead stumbled over the debris and themselves while crashing in a heap. Most of the men behind them got tangled up in the mess, slowing their attack further. I killed the two closest to me as they struggled to right themselves.
A young man, probably twenty at best, broke free first with the bright idea of leaping over the others in order to reach me. It was a dumb move. I rammed my sword into his chest before he landed. Wide eyes hinted that in his last moments he likely agreed with my assessment of his decision.
The next two attacked together, immediately putting me on the defensive. I blocked the first wild cut, and then ducked under the next, sword clanging against brick to my left. After a few more quick sweeps of their blades, I managed to slip my sword into the armpit of one. Someone took his place before I could take advantage and dispose of my other opponent. The newcomer carried a pitchfork.
Given the weapon’s reach, I found myself giving ground, swearing the whole way.
I deflected a stab of the pitchfork and tried to move in close where the weapon would be useless. It worked, for a moment anyway. I sliced the man’s unprotected arm. He staggered. However, the man beside him used the opening I gave him to drive his sword through a weak spot in my boiled leather, piercing the flesh below my collarbone. I pulled away before it went deep, but that didn’t stop the thing from hurting.
“Back up, Tyrus!”
I jumped backward without thinking, reacting to the sound of Dekar’s voice.
Stone rained down on the men in the alley, felling many as heads and limbs were struck. Dust took to the air, blinding most others. I waved the cloud from my face and seized on the moment. I pounced at the closest swordsman with a stab through the gut, then finished off the man with the pitchfork.
“C’mon, Ty. Hurry up.”
I looked up. Ira and Dekar waited for me next to a hole in the wall. I wondered how they managed to knock so much stone loose, but that would be a question for another day. I sheathed my weapon, took two quick steps, and jumped, grabbing onto the ledge. Ira reached down and helped me up while holding onto Dekar with his other hand. I managed to get up just before those in the alley recovered.
“The balcony,” I gestured.
We climbed up to the balcony and eventually to the roof as the men below pelted us with the rock Dekar had toppled on them. We took a few welts and earned several bruises, but made it up alive.
Taking the high ground we continued our trek through the city, jumping from roof to roof, no easy task in any circumstance.
We lost our pursuers after a couple of blocks.
Eventually, we made it to Damanhur’s outer walls.
* * *
Many of our group had lucked out.
Unfortunately, some others had not.
Our attackers had overlooked the captain and our wagons. Hamath made it back in time to warn Nehab. By the time they rode out of the city, the first few returning soldiers left with them.
The captain pulled the wagons off the road into an apple orchard near the lake a few miles outside of the city. Hamath stayed by the road to direct survivors.
Men had escaped Damanhur any way they could. Most jumped over the city’s obscenely low wall as we had.
Dekar, Ira, and I were among the last group to arrive-bruised, tired, and exhausted.
When all was said and done, we lost twelve men. Ten more were seriously injured. I tried to take solace in the fact that Dekar, Ira, Hamath, and I had killed well over a dozen citizens of Damanhur alone. Based on the reports of others, we gave a lot worse than we got.
The unevenness in casualties was a small consolation though.