Freed from their grip, Salomdhi turned to run but was tackled around the ankles by Lendle, who then expertly flipped the merchant onto his stomach, twisting his arm behind him, inflicting enough pain to keep the man motionless but not, unfortunately, silent. Salomdhi, unused to physical distress, began screaming that his arm was about to break.
The other pirate knocked down by Fritzen had regained his feet and was circling the half-ogre with long, twin daggers drawn.
"Stay back," Fritz warned, "or I'll slit your friend's stomach as if he were a pig at the slaughterhouse, and his blood can wash all these pieces of gold."
Undaunted, the standing pirate laughed and circled closer. Fritz, frustrated, balled his fist and struck the downed man hard in the face, knocking him out and breaking a few of his teeth in the process.
Maq, still on Mandracore's back, didn't like the situation. Though the pirate facing Fritz was a human, and quite a bit smaller, he seemed agile and practiced, a potentially deadly foe.
"Tell him to drop the daggers!" Maquesta barked at Mandracore, pressing the flat of her borrowed dagger against his throat. The pirate clenched his jaw closed, refusing. "I'm not kidding!" Maq turned her dagger, pressing the point into the soft underside of his chin until a trickle of blood appeared. "Tell him!" she ordered.
"Yega!" Mandracore called in strangled tones. "Drop your daggers." Such was the fear-driven obedience that the Reaver commanded from his crew that the pirate obeyed his order immediately. Fritzen picked up the daggers, sticking them in the sash at his waist, and pointed to the ground.
"Lie down next to your friend!" Fritzen commanded. Again the words reverberated inside the helmet. Shaking his head, he pulled the thing free and dropped it on the ground. "How could anyone wear something like that?" he whispered to himself.
"Lendle, do something about that noise!" Maq sputtered as Salomdhi continued to wail. Lendle tore a strip from the bottom of Salomdhi's silken tunic, and to the merchant's obvious indignation stuffed it in his mouth, muffling the noise, though not completely stopping it. The merchant broke out into a cold sweat and squirmed harder.
"Slowly now, let's walk into the other part of the cave," Maq ordered as she tightened her grip on Mandracore's back. "Yega and the other one first, with Fritzen following, then Salomdhi and Lendle. We'll save the best for last, Mandracore." Maq assumed there would be rope in the first section of the cavern, rope they could use to tie up Salomdhi and the pirates. Then they would need to get back to the Perechon as quickly as possible. The charm on Lendle's ankle was still blinking. She didn't know if it was summoning anyone else to the merchant's compound, but she didn't want to take the chance.
Yega dragged the unconscious pirate to his knees and began pulling him like a sack of potatoes, angling him toward the outer cave. He threw Maq a look of icy contempt as he went. Just as the men were inside the entrance, Maquesta's eyes grew wide.
"Fritzen! Look out!" The warning came too late for the half-ogre. Mandracore had stationed a third pirate to keep watch in the garden while he and the others accompanied Salomdhi inside. That pirate, wielding a curved saber, now lunged at Fritzen from just outside the treasure vault's sliding door. Fritz ducked away at the last minute, but the blade still caught him solidly in the shoulder, causing him to wince in pain. The halfogre brought his purloined blade up to parry, catching the next slash and easily deflecting it, but he was stunned from his injury.
This gave Yega an opening. The pirate darted away from Fritzen, in toward his armed companion and pulled a dagger free from his belt. Now the two stood facing the half-ogre, and they moved in closer.
"Lendle! Go help him-I'll watch the merchant." Though Lendle was a skilled fighter, Maq was afraid if she went to Fritzen's side Mandracore would be able to overwhelm the gnome. Therefore, Mandracore was her responsibility, and hers alone.
Before the third pirate could strike at Fritzen again, Lendle leapt forward. The gnome dashed underneath the half-ogre's blade and swung out with a small gardening trowel, slashing the pirate's leg and causing him to howl. As the pirate bent over to inspect his wound, the gnome jumped as hard as his stubby legs allowed, thrusting the trowel at the pirate's chest. The point plunged through the man's colorful garb, finding his heart. He pitched forward, a glassy expression on his face. At the same time, the pirate with the dagger pressed forward, trying to slice at Fritzen's stomach. Still off balance, Fritzen was able to hold on to his borrowed blade, but the saber wound prevented him from using his right arm. Seizing the advantage, the remaining pirate jumped at the half-ogre. Fritzen rolled to the side, striking out with his good arm, bringing his sword up under the pirate's ribs until the tip of the blade passed out his back. The pirate fell, with a wounded Fritz practically on top of him. The last pirate, finally regaining consciousness, crawled toward his fallen comrade's saber. But Lendle hopped between the pirate and the weapon, holding him at bay with the small trowel.
"Dropitrightnow!" the gnome shouted.
The pirate looked at Lendle waving the bloody gardening tool, glanced at Mandracore, and pitched the dagger to the cave floor.
"Now, down on your belly," Lendle added, slowing his speech to make sure the pirate understood. When the pirate complied, the gnome sat on him and looked over at Fritzen. "You all right?"
The half-ogre groaned and pulled himself off the dead pirate. He looked at Lendle and grinned sheepishly. "So you can do more than cook," he jested. Then his eyes squinted in pain and he glanced at his shoulder.
Only the point of Maquesta's dagger and the certainty that she would use it kept Mandracore still. Salomdhi, on the other hand, slowly got to his feet and stood paralyzed by fear and horror, not even bothering to take the makeshift gag out of his mouth. His wide eyes took in the bodies and the blood.
"Lendle, tie up that pirate you're sitting on, and Salomdhi, too. Then help me with Mandracore," Maq directed. "Fritzen, how are you? Press down on that wound!" The half-ogre was sitting with his back propped against the wall, holding his bleeding shoulder.
"I'm doing what I can, Maquesta. I've lost some blood, but I'm better off than those two." He raised his arm in the direction of Mandracore's dead pirates. "I'll be able to make it back to the Perechon."
Maq slid down Mandracore and pulled his hands behind him, tying them with a piece of strong hemp. She jostled him to his knees, then shoved him forward. He turned his head to the side just in time so his nose didn't hit the stone floor.
"This gives me another score to settle with the Kar-Thons," he said bitterly. "I guess I'll be taking that account up with you from now on, now that Melas is out of the picture," Mandracore sneered.
"What do you know about my father?" Maq asked sharply. "What have you heard?"
"I have friends in Lacynos," the pirate replied. "I know Melas is living on a temporary stay, pending your return-and provided you're successful."
Maq frowned, troubled that the Reaver should know the purpose of the Perechon's voyage. "Do your masters in Lacynos have anything to do with that treasure and weapons cache in there?" Maq asked, trying to puzzle out a connection.
"I didn't say masters, I said friends," the pirate answered harshly. "I have many interests, and in this instance my friends' interests and mine coincided in a way that is filling my purse," Mandracore added, enjoying Maq's discomfort.