Cobblepot let out a yell, dropped his cleaver, and lifted his hand to the side of his head. When he pulled it away, it too, just like the rest of his body, was covered with blood. This time, however, it was his own.
Ryder fell back, trying to catch his balance, keeping the bare-chested man in front of him.
Cobblepot looked up from his place on one knee. "I'll get you for that."
Standing up, he cracked his whip, snapping it forward and back. Pop, pop, pop, pop. The whip sang through the air. The taskmaster began to advance.
Ryder swung the chain, the whistling sound of air rushing through the links growing with each circle it made over his head. He held his ground as the big man charged.
The whip snapped as it came for his face. Ryder dodged to the left and ducked. The whip caught him on the top of his head, making a painful crack as it connected. But it didn't stop Ryder's advance. He lunged forward, sending the chain out at Cobblepot's ankles. The cuff wrapped around the big man's leg and the chain made a full loop, flopping over and tangling itself on its own links-just as Ryder had hoped it would.
Dropping to his knees, Ryder leaned back with all his weight, pulling the chain toward him with every last ounce of strength he had left.
The move caught the taskmaster off guard, and Ryder managed to pull the man's legs out from under him. Cobblepot swung his arms in wide circles, trying to stay upright, but all that did was prolong his fall. The taskmaster landed on his back, sending up a huge plume of dust from the dry plain. Ryder immediately jumped to his feet, the chain on his arm still entangled around the taskmaster's leg. Turning a quick circle to give himself as much slack as he could, Ryder lifted his foot in the air and came down on Cobblepot's head with the heel of his boot.
The big man let out a howl, his whole body convulsing from the blow, and he pulled his hands to his face. The chain around his leg pulled taut, yanking Ryder back. He stumbled to his knees, but the sight of his torturer lying there on the ground drove him on. He leaped to his feet and came at the man again.
Ryder brought his foot up, this time stomping harder. His heel landed against Cobblepot's hands, smashing them into his face. Blood poured out from behind his fingers, and the taskmaster shook, his body twitching. Ryder repeated his attack, nearly losing his balance with the momentum of his foot.
His boot connected with a loud snap, and the front of Cobblepot's face collapsed. Ryder's boot heel sank deeper than he had expected it to, and a jolt of fear and exhilaration ran up his spine. The taskmaster screamed and started to thrash. Ryder was thrown to the ground.
The chain, still tangled around Cobblepot's leg, pulled at Ryder's arm, yanking him around like a dog on a leash. He tried to get closer, to loosen the slack, but the big man was thrashing so hard, there just weren't enough links in the chain. Struggling to his feet, Ryder changed his approach. Risking being pummeled to death by Cobblepot's flailing boots, he looped his arm forward and around, trying to shake the chain free.
Cobblepot sat up and lunged forward, pulling both hands away from his face to grab at Ryder. The piggish man had been ugly before, but now he was downright hideous. His nose had been completely caved in. Instead of a protruding ridge, there was a deep recess. Blood flowed from the wound, spraying out in speckled drops with each labored breath.
The rest of the taskmaster's face had shifted, filling in the gap where his nose had been. Where before the cartilage had held the skin taut, it had now gone slack. Large wrinkles of flesh gathered across his cheeks and forehead. It looked to Ryder as if the man's face was now longer, thinner. His eye sockets were closer together, and his gaze seemed to wander, his eyeballs shaking as they tried to focus.
Ryder easily pulled away from Cobblepot's grasping hands. The man reached, then reached again, as if trying to catch an elusive butterfly. His clumsiness was only accentuated by the agility of his prey. For a moment, Ryder felt pity for the man. Sitting there, bathed in his own blood, the one-time tormentor of men looked like a newborn baby, unable to defend himself against the dangers of the world.
With his arms in the air, the taskmaster's legs had momentarily stilled, and Ryder took advantage of it. Untangling the shackles from the big man's leg, he took several steps back and breathed. He was tired, perhaps more so than he'd ever been in his entire life. Turning around, he looked out to see the rest of the battle.
Huge dust clouds rose off the plain. The bandits' horses kicked the dirt into the air as they rode circles around the surrounded guardsmen. There were screams and the other telltale sounds of battle, and Ryder couldn't get a good sense of what was happening.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of something moving in on him. Leaping back without knowing for certain what was coming, Ryder threw himself to the dirt.
He didn't see much more.
"Now it's my turn." The taskmaster grabbed him by the throat, lifting Ryder from the ground.
Ryder was shocked at how fast the big man had gotten to his feet. He clawed at Cobblepot's hands and kicked at the ground with the tips of his toes as he dangled from the big man's grasp.
"I'm going to break your neck." The taskmaster began to squeeze Ryder's throat.
Ryder struggled as best he could, but there was little he could do. Cobblepot was much stronger, and even beating on the big man's hands had little effect. Ryder's vision blurred and blood filled his head. The pressure built until it felt as though the whole thing would pop off.
Into his field of view came the form of a man. His arms were bare and his chest was covered with gray cloth. Over his head he carried what appeared to be a large rock. The man closed on the taskmaster, and Ryder caught sight of his face-and the tattoo on his forehead.
Nazeem's feet came off the ground as he hit the taskmaster in the head. Ryder could feel the shock of the blow course through Cobblepot's grip around his neck. The big man jerked, then seemed to relax.
Ryder pulled free of Cobblepot's chokehold and fell gasping to the ground.
The taskmaster staggered a step, his upper body swaying. He put his hand on the back of his head and turned around to look at Nazeem. As he did, Ryder could see the oozing wound the rock had made. Both the front and the back of his skull were caved in. Blood ran freely down his chest and back. He took one more step toward Nazeem, then collapsed to the ground in a puff of dust.
"Are you all right?" Nazeem came to Ryder's side, grabbed hold of his arm, and helped him to his feet.
Ryder shook his head to clear it. "I'll be fine." He looked the tattooed man in the eye. "Thank you."
Nazeem smiled, bowing his head. "I am sure you would do the same for me."
A loud hoot came from behind both men, and they spun toward the sound. Ryder grabbed hold of the chain on his wrist and dropped into a crouch, prepared to start swinging.
As the dust settled, Ryder could see men strewn all over the ground. Some of them wore gray tunics. Others wore the dusky robes of the sand bandits. But most of them Ryder recognized as Purdun's men.
The fight was over. The bandits had won. They stood on top of the carriage, holding up handfuls of gold and bolts of silk cloth. Others sat on their horses shaking their clubs, swords, and crossbows in the air. Many of the freed prisoners joined them in the revelry.