Unfortunately, the mute couldn't call for help.
Possessing the man would only distract him and hasten his death. Trying to do the same to Radu had already proven futile. Chaney simply didn't have the power to overcome the assassin's implacable will, especially when the man was so fully empowered by the spirits of the dead.
The same spirits that circled Chaney, moaning and pulling at him. What were they trying to tell him?
"Blast me for an imbecile!" Chaney cried.
He had failed to possess the assassin, but he'd tried it alone, without the obvious help that surrounded him. Chaney beckoned the other ghosts to follow him. As one, the wave of souls rose above Radu Malveen, and plunged into his body.
It felt like diving into churning ice water, but this time Chaney wasn't paralyzed. Rather, he could feel his own touch on Radu's arms and legs. It was like grasping the limbs of a life-sized marionette.
Except this puppet fought back. Chaney felt a black force struggling against his own will. It wrestled him for control of Radu's limbs and sought to thrust him from his body.
He tried speaking through Radu's mouth, but the most he could evoke was a low gasp. Instead, he jerked the man's sword arm out of his defensive line.
Vox hesitated, apparently sensing a trick.
"Doo iiitt…" croaked Chaney through Radu's mangled throat, then he kicked out, tumbling Radu's body down on the stairs.
He looked up at Vox, imploring him with his borrowed eyes to strike before it was too late. The barbarian squinted, and for a moment Chaney thought Vox could see through Radu's mask, even through his skull, into the ghosts that lay beneath the flesh.
The barbarian inverted his sword-breakers and plunged them into Radu's belly. One of them sank so deeply that it bit hard into the stone stairs and stuck fast.
The twin wounds were exploding stars in Chaney's brain. The pain threatened to overwhelm his will, to force him to retreat from this agonized body. He felt his hold on Radu wavering, but he struggled to hold fast. For an instant, he had never felt so powerful, so certain of his success. He watched through Radu's eyes as Vox pulled free one of his sword-breakers and raised it for the coup de grace.
All at once, the other ghosts fled, leaving Chaney helpless and alone within Radu's body.
"Cowards," spat Chaney.
Radu's lips didn't echo his sentiment. Instead, he kicked Vox in the chest with such force that the big man flew backward into the slanting stone ceiling.
Even within his prison of bone and flesh, Chaney could hear the horrible crack of Vox's skull against the stone-first against the ceiling, then again upon the stone steps. There he lay, as still as death.
Realizing he'd lost what sway he'd held over Radu's body, Chaney tried to follow the treacherous ghosts in their escape. To his horror, he found he couldn't move, nor could he exert the slightest influence over Radu's movements.
He was trapped inside.
Radu gripped the sword-breaker that pinned him to the floor. With a grunt, he pulled it from his body. Chaney felt the nauseating agony of the aggravated wound. An instant later, he felt an infernal heat fill the cut, burning it away. The pain lingered, but Radu rose to his feet.
As he stepped over the body of his fallen foe, Radu sketched a quick salute with his blade. In the years Chaney had spent at Master Ferrick's academy, he'd never seen Radu make such a gesture to a fellow student. In truth, none had ever come so close to stopping him.
Radu entered the cellars. He passed through the iron racks and beyond the tasting room, then he came to a room lit by torches.
Inside, all the casks had been moved away to make room for a freshly dug hole. The excavation had revealed a stone archway inscribed with arcane symbols. It surrounded not an empty space but a great plug of blue stone with veins of many colors. Before it stood Tamlin Uskevren, and before him stood a team of six men holding picks and shovels, who stood defensively before their lord.
Chaney had known Tamlin Uskevren since he was a boy. He'd last seen Talbot's older brother almost a year before. Since then, Tamlin's handsome features had grown leaner. He had been a youth prone to slouching, and leaning on mantles and in doorways, but he stood tall as he faced the intruder. His eyes were as hard and as brilliant as emeralds.
"Please, my lord," said one of the workers. "Flee, while we hold him off."
He was a young man with a face still too smooth to want shaving. He watched Radu Malveen's slow approach, and his hands trembled upon the haft of his weapon.
Radu nodded toward the lad in acknowledgement of his brave speech. Chaney knew he would be the last to die, after he had seen the fate of his fellows.
"No," said Tamlin. He drew his sword and raised it to a steady guard position. In his left hand he fiddled with a ring of keys, rubbing one of them like a prayer bead. His gaze never left the assassin's eyes, and his expression remained assured. "Stand down. No one else will die in my place tonight."
"But my lord!" the young man protested until one of his elders drew him away by the arm.
"Run, you idiot!" Chaney screamed.
He knew perfectly well that no one but Radu could hear him, but he couldn't bear to remain both useless and silent.
"Leave us," Tamlin ordered. "I presume our visitor has no objection?"
Radu nodded. He stepped to the side, allowing the workers to pass. They filed out slowly, past the assassin, then they beat a hasty retreat.
"Well spoken, Lord Uskevren," said Radu. His voice had faded to the rustling of dry leaves. He bowed slightly and raised his blade.
"Who sent you?"
Radu cocked his head in a disapproving gesture.
"It was worth a try," said Tamlin, "but I see you're a professional. I don't suppose you're open to a counter offer?"
Radu took a step forward and raised his sword.
Tamlin stepped to the side, holding his guard high and to the center. When Radu mirrored his motion to cut him off, Chaney suspected Tamlin had been attempting to run past, toward the wall. Perhaps there was a hidden escape there.
Too bad Radu wouldn't let him try it.
Tamlin made a shallow feint toward the intruder's thigh. The trick didn't fool Radu, and his guard never wavered.
The assassin attacked. His first feint lured Tamlin's guard outside, and he thrust again. Tamlin barely recovered from the first false thrust in time to parry the second-at a cost of a searing cut on his shoulder.
Tamlin retreated a step, then two more. The man followed him, maintaining their distance with a dancer's grace.
"At least let me lead," quipped Tamlin. "It's my house, after all."
The assassin replied with another attack, this time beating Tamlin's blade before cutting under his guard and pinking his thigh.
Tamlin fell back, stumbling over the loose stones of the excavation. His opponent allowed him to recover before advancing once more.
"Don't you dare toy with me, you beggar!" Tamlin bellowed.
Briefly, Chaney thought of Talbot's mocking imitations of the boys' father. In anger, Tamlin sounded much the same.
Radu and Tamlin heard the clamor on the steps at the same time. Help was coming, and the assassin could no longer afford to taunt his prey. Tamlin knew it, and he made a hasty retreat-right into the open hole.
He fell hard on his back, the air whooshing out of his lungs. To his credit, he held his blade firmly upward, anticipating Radu's leap after him. He even kept the keys in his hand, and Chaney saw a blue gleam from the largest one.