But every time, that rage passed. Ryder would always forgive Liam. This time was no exception. Liam was his younger brother, and if he was in trouble, it was Ryder who was going to get him out of it.
Gritting his teeth, Ryder charged forward, launching himself at Liam. With the vampire attached to his back, he crashed into his younger brother and the creature trying to bite his neck. Everyone tumbled, and for the next few instants, Liam, Ryder, and the two vampires were nothing more than a spinning pile of elbows, fangs, and chains.
When they came to a stop, Ryder leaped to his feet, grabbed Liam by the arm, and lifted him as well.
Liam had lost his long sword in the tumble, and he pulled a shorter blade from his belt and pointed it at his brother.
Ryder held up his hands. "I'm sorry, Liam," he said. "I don't want to kill you."
Liam grimaced. "Great," he said, pointing over Ryder's shoulder. "Because if you still did, the line forms over there."
Ryder turned around to see more than a dozen vampires charging at the two of them. "Just like back in the old days," he said as he slapped away the first attack with a chain. He could feel Liam's back against his. "I'm afraid this is where we left off last time."
The Crimson Awl surrounded Ryder and Liam, hissing as they closed the circle.
Chapter 27
Captain Beetlestone spurred his horse on. It wasn't far from the back entrance to the front gate of Zerith Hold, but the ride seemed to take an eternity.
Behind him, he heard the alarm bell toll. Under other circumstances, he would have turned back. But right now, there was nothing he could do to help those men. His baron was in jeopardy.
"Onward," he shouted, pointing toward the front gate just to make sure the rest of his men knew his intentions. He didn't look back. They would follow. They always did.
Reaching the northeast corner of the Hold, they made the turn around to the front of the fortress.
The Crimson Awl was nowhere to be seen.
Beetlestone relaxed. That's right, he thought.
They fled before the arrows of the elite guards on the wall. He looked up to salute the archers who regularly guarded the entrance to Zerith Hold.
They were nowhere to be seen.
Now it was time to panic. If the guards had abandoned their posts, it could mean only one thing.
The Awl was already inside.
Kicking his horse again, Beetlestone tried to make his mount run faster. He wasn't going to lose the baron, not this way. Reaching the drawbridge, he could see that the portcullis and the heavy wooden doors behind it were only partially open-just wide enough for them to sneak in single file. Pulling up on the reins, Beetlestone leaped from his horse.
"Dismount," he shouted. "We go in on foot."
The others soldiers in his unit followed his lead, unsheathing their swords as they hit the ground.
"That'll be far enough," came a voice.
Captain Beetlestone turned to look up at King Korox sitting on a magnificent black steed.
"Drop your weapons and give up your allegiance to Lord Purdun, and the Magistrates will go easy on you," demanded the king.
Beetlestone stood firm, torn between his obligations to his baron and his king. Beside him, his men stood their ground, waiting for his order.
"I will not tell you again," shouted the king. "Drop your weapons and bow before your king, or we will use force."
Captain Beetlestone lowered his head in a simple bow. His hands were shaking. "I apologize, my liege," he said. He could feel his palm sweat against the hilt of his sword as he thought on what he was about to do. "But I cannot abandon my baron in his time of need." Then he turned and ran toward the portcullis.
The twang of crossbow strings sang through the night air, and the drawbridge before him suddenly sprouted bolts. Beetlestone froze in place, turning to face King Korox. He dropped his sword then dropped to one knee.
His men did the same.
"My king," he said, looking up into the eyes of King Korox, "please forgive my rash actions, but the baron's life is in mortal danger."
Giselle led the Broken Spear through the winding hallways of Zerith Hold. Neither she nor any of the men with her had ever been inside the building. They had no idea where they were going and even less of an idea where Ryder would be.
They had dealt quickly with the guards at the rear entrance. There were surprisingly few of them there, and Curtis's invisibility spell had given the Spear an advantage.
But as they worked their way through the stone corridors, Giselle began to grow nervous. This wasn't right. They hadn't encountered anyone. The halls were empty. The rooms were empty. There was no one home.
"This feels like a trap," she said to no one in particular.
"I don't think so," replied Curtis. "No. I really don't think so."
"Why not?"
"Well," said the illusionist, "they didn't know we were coming. How could they set a trap, if they didn't know we were coming?"
Giselle thought about this as they continued to run through the halls of the second floor. "Maybe they did," she said finally. "We don't know what Nazeem told them. He might have tipped them off about us."
"I doubt it," replied Curtis.
"How can you be so sure?" asked Giselle.
"I can't," replied the illusionist.
Giselle threw up her hands. "If this isn't a trap, then where is everyone?"
"Outside," said Curtis.
"What?" Giselle stopped running and looked the skinny man in the face.
Curtis smiled and pointed at the window in the far wall.
Giselle sprinted over to the edge and looked down through the warped glass at the huge battle raging below.
"When did you know they were out there?"
Curtis shrugged. "The first time we passed a window." He thought about it. "Yes, on the first floor, after we passed through the dining hall."
Giselle turned and took off toward the stairs. "Then why didn't you say something?"
"No one asked me," said Curtis.
"Come on," she growled at the rest of the Broken Spear. Then she bolted down the stairs.
Two flights later, Giselle found the entrance hall and the open front door that led out into the courtyard. She couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. Pockets of fighting were scattered all over the place. The bodies of dead men lay on the ground, their blood staining the flagstones. And though he looked far different than he had the last time they had been together, in the middle of the swirling madness, Giselle spotted what she was looking for.
"Ryder," she said, smiling. "He's alive." Lifting her sword high in the air, she shouted the Broken Spear's ululating war cry. "Yie, yie, yie, yie, yie!"
The other warriors behind her did the same, filling the entire courtyard with the bouncing sound.
Then they charged into the fray.
Ryder stood facing Montauk, a chain swinging in each hand. Behind him, Liam held off the vampires coming from the other direction.
"I never did like you," said the master of chains.
Montauk smiled. "That's funny," he said. "I thought I'd had you killed."
Ryder nodded. "I'll hand it to you. I never would have guessed it was you."
Ryder's chain lashed out, wrapping around Montauk's sword arm. He pulled, attempting to disarm the man before caving his head in. But Montauk proved to be much stronger than Ryder, and he pulled back on the chain with the force of an elephant. Ryder was jerked forward and sent sprawling onto his belly at Montauk's feet.
"How could you have guessed?" taunted Montauk. "You with your miserably short lifespan."