Marcellus could feel, rather than see the dark figures circling them. Nyori's breathing quickened, her hand drifted to the satchel at her belt as she drew closer to Marcellus.
"You are a good king's man, Harlin," Marcellus said. "But you protect an imposter. Have you not heard his words? Think, man! Do not let your loyalty blind you from the truth."
Lucretius laughed. "You reveal your ignorance with every word, Marcellus. This man is bound to me by forces beyond your understanding. His only thought is to serve me. And these meigi are bound by contract to kill at my order. Would you like to see a demonstration?"
He casually raised his hand. "Kill the man. Capture the woman."
As the meigi's silent blades unsheathed, Harlin struck like an unfurling whip, as though his heavy bulk was weightless. Marcellus heard the wasp-like hum as the slim blade nearly grazed his cheek. He seized Harlin's wrist and plunged the blade into the chest of an attacking meigi. As the poisoned blade killed instantly, Marcellus snatched the meigi's sword and whirled. The razor edge sliced through Harlin's throat with barely a sign of passing. The Doorkeeper clutched his neck with a gurgle as he sank with widened eyes. Both men's bodies struck the floor at the same time.
Nyori snatched Eymunder from her satchel, but stumbled over Harlin's legs. The glittering wand skidded from her hand across a room full of shifting bodies. Marcellus cursed as he engaged with the next shadowy figure. He risked a glance at the king. Lucretius strode away with a dark-armored bodyguard of five men. He reached into a depression in the wall and pressed. A hidden doorway opened, and they disappeared inside.
"Stay clear of the fighting, Nyori!" Marcellus wasn't sure if she heard him and prayed that she stayed out the way. Fortunately for her, the meigi appeared focused on their order to kill him.
He growled and stabbed through the man he fought, then rolled to avoid a whistling slash from behind. His counterattack was off balance, but he felt the shock of impact. The shadow screamed as Marcellus quickly rose to parry a blow from a third foe. He knew he would not last for long against such skilled opponents. The vengeance he sought was a fading dream, replaced by the bloodstained reality of the shadowy death that danced around him.
The doors opened, flooding the room with light. Josef led the young knights of Kaerleon into the fray, shouting battle cries.
"For the Golden Lion, and the Silver Horn!"
"For the glory of Kaerleon!"
The lithe combatants readjusted their attack to meet the men of Kaerleon with quick and grisly efficiency. The meigi wielded a number of strange and new weapons — three pronged daggers, star shaped throwing blades, hooks and spiked orbs on whirling chains. The battle that should have been easily in the knights' favor instead turned out to be an evenly fought, close quartered bloodbath.
Dradyn fought his way to Marcellus' side. He brandished a keen war axe, perfect for the close-quarter fighting. After dispatching his opponent, he slung the sword belt from around his shoulder and handed it to Marcellus. "The Shama opened the doors, milord. We saw what was happening."
Marcellus buckled the belt quickly and whipped out the gleaming blade. "I am in her debt again, it seems. Where is she now?" He looked around. The knights were keeping the meigi occupied, though at great cost. Already more had died than their foes.
"Here, Marcellus." The corner of the room brightened as Eymunder flared in her hands, once again a glittering staff.
I thought for sure that she would have run. Instead, she risked her life to recover her staff. Marcellus had to admire her courage. She might have claimed to be afraid, but time and again proved that she was anything but fearful.
He dashed to the hidden doorway where the king had fled. "Quickly then, while we have the chance."
He plummeted down the stairs into the depths of the shadows. As the clamor of fighting echoed behind them, Nyori brightened their way with the light of her staff.
"Where does this passage lead?" Dradyn asked as they half-stumbled down the winding, wickedly sloped stairs. The air in the narrow hall was old and musty, thick with dust that had lain undisturbed for years. It now rose in a powdery haze from the men who fled ahead of them.
Marcellus followed without regard for safety. He skipped two or three stairs with every step, the naked sword in one fist and his other hand sliding against the dusty brick walls to counter his suicidal descent.
"This was a secret escape route for the king and his family in the case of the direst circumstances. Not many know it exists. No more questions."
A whistling noise made him duck, and a throwing star clattered against the wall where his head had been. He barely saw a dark figure duck back into the shadows. He cursed and began his breakneck decline anew.
They caught up with their quarry at the point where the stairs ended and opened to an equally dusty rounded chamber illuminated by a few fluttering torches. Marcellus stopped and turned to Nyori.
"Wait until we clear the room, then follow. Understand?"
She nodded. "Go."
Marcellus dashed forward and rolled, avoiding the sword thrusts he knew were waiting for him. As the two men missed, he bounded up with a whirling sweep that cut down one of the surprised meigi.
A whirring sound alerted him to the other, who swung a spiked mace on a thin chain. Marcellus caught the chain on his blade and pulled, snatching the weapon from the attacker. The meigi never hesitated, flowing into a spinning kick that caught Marcellus hard in the chest. He fell backward toward another warrior who rushed at him with a trident spear.
Dradyn flung an axe past Marcellus' head and struck the spear-wielding man in the chest. As their bodies collided, Marcellus snatched the axe out and hurled it at his still-advancing opponent. The meigi dodged it with insulting ease.
Marcellus rolled to his feet. He and Dradyn faced off against three shadowy figures. Lucretius folded his arms and viewed the battle as though a spectator in the arena from his stance at the far side of the room. Marcellus ignored the king, focusing on the foes in front of him. They were all that stood in the way of his vengeance.
They would not be enough.
He feinted a strike at the one to his right. As the man instinctively jumped back, Marcellus switched in mid-swing and struck at the man to his left. His sword bit deeply in the man's side, biting through the armor. As the warrior sank without a sound, Dradyn engaged the other.
Marcellus returned to the first man, barely parrying a vicious thrust, then a second, and a third. He knew he had been lucky against these men so far, but now he was fully engaged in a one-on-one with Shiru, their leader. The man had all the speed of a striking cobra. The air rang with their furious strikes and counter-strikes; their blades caught the torchlight and sent it flashing back across the chamber like lightning.
Marcellus felt the storm surge inside of him. His sword blurred in his hands as he flowed from one attack to the next. He was the wind, and his sword was lightning.
Shiru's eyes widened as Marcellus slashed, cutting deep into the meigi's protective vambrace. Marcellus pushed as the blade caught the flanges, forcing Shiru's arms to twist awkwardly. Marcellus took advantage by punching Shiru in the face as hard as he could with his free hand.
Shiru staggered but quickly counterattacked with a stiff kick hard against Marcellus' chest. The meigi somersaulted backward and landed in a crouch. His fingers made elaborate gestures as though he traced symbols in the air before speaking a foreign command.
"Huoyan."