"You are to come with me!" he ordered. He did not look happy about it.
"No longer a musical fan, Ljotur?" I said, climbing slowly to my feet.
"I have orders." Orders that he obviously did not like. Which of course he would obey since independent thought had never been encouraged in the military. Floyd followed me out and the squad formed up. Four in front, four in back of us. Ljotur checked the formation, nodded, took position in front and raised his spear.
"Forward - burtu!"
We burtu'ed at a slow trot, down the road and turned right at the corner. Which put us directly on the route to the red brick lodgings where Iron John lurked, as I remembered from our first visit. Trotted down the road and into a tunnel under a, row of buildings. One of the guards to the rear tapped me on the shoulder.
"Give me a hand, will you?" he asked in a hoarse voice.
Then swung sideways and planted his fist in the stomach of the guard next to him. Who folded and dropped without a sound.
This was easy enough to understand. I had turned when he tapped me so I kept turning to face the rear. I reached out and got a hand on the other two guards' necks. Squeezed as they turned their spears towards me.
"Floyd!" I gasped out, putting all my energy into my throttle grips so these jokers would pass out before they harpooned me. "The others!"
One of the guards dropped but the other one, with a stronger neck, kept his spear coming. Into my stomach
No, not quite. The first guard, who had called to me, gave him a quick chop under the ear. He and I whirled about, ready to jump to Floyd's help. And stopped.
The four other guards were lying in a silent, tumbled heap on the ground. Floyd had a spear pressed firmly under Ljotur's jaw, was holding him up with his other hand.
"You want to talk to this guy?" Floyd asked. "Or you want him down there with the others?"
"I've nothing to say… "
"No talk. Drop."
Before I could finish speaking a limp Ljotur joined the rest of the sleeping patrol.
"What about this one?" Floyd asked, fingers arced, pointing to the soldier who had called to me.
"Wait! He started this thing. There has to be a reason for it.
"There is," the soldier said in the same hoarse voice. "I am going to tell you a few things. You will not laugh at anything I say — understood?"
"We're not laughing!" I said. "Great, guy, thanks for the help. And what's the plan?"
"First off - remember about the laughing! I'm not a guy. I'm a girl. Do I see lips bending?"
"Never!" I called out, to disguise the fact that a little flicker of emotion had appeared. "You saved us. We are in your debt. We are not laughing. So tell us about it."
"All right. But let's drag these so-called soldiers out of the way first. Then we go on. The orders were to bring you to Iron John and that is what I am going to do. Your friend is in danger. Do nothing precipitate. Forward."
We went. Disbelieving perhaps, but still forward. Floyd started to talk but I raised my hand.
"Save the discussion. Explanations will be useful after we make sure Steengo is all right. But Floyd - stop me if I am wrong - did I see you take five guys out while I was just about managing two?"
"You didn't see it. It was over before you turned to look." He was the same old laid-back Floyd - but was that a new touch of firmness to his words? It was a day of surprises. And he was right - I had not seen him at work, just the results.
The brick palace jogged into view ahead. Apparently not all of the troops had been told that we were no longer heroes, for the guards at the entrance did a snappy jump to attention and salute as we trotted past.
"Halt!" our newfound friend (girl…?) called out and we stopped before the guards at the door. "Orders to bring these two to Iron John. Permission to enter?"
"Enter!" the officer in charge called out. The doors opened and closed behind us as we trotted by. There was the large room ahead and inside it was Iron John. And just one other person.
Steengo. Collapsed against the wall, covered in bruises and blood. One eye swollen shut. He started to speak but could only rasp out something incomprehensible.
"You are all here now," Iron John said. "Soldier - guard the entrance. No one to enter or leave. I have a score to settle with these interlopers. Because I have changed my mind about keeping this thing quiet. I listened to my advisers and I am sorry that I did. Secrecy is at an end and justice will be done to the blasphemers. Here is what will happen. First I will kill this aged devil who spoke such filth. You two will watch. Then I will kill you as well."
He started towards Steengo, a red giant of unleashed power. Hands extended to kill.
Chapter 19
"Let me have your spear." I called out to the soldier at the door. She shook her head in a silent no, then said, "I have my orders." No help from this source.
Iron John had turned and was walking towards Steengo. I ran two silent steps in his direction and launched myself into a flying kick to his back. Heel punching out, a killing blow.
Then I was batted from the air. As big as he was - Iron John was just as fast. He had turned while I was in the air and had swung one hand. Knocking me aside, sprawling me onto the floor. His voice was as deep and ominous as a distant volcano.
"Do you want to be first, little man? You wish the others to watch your destruction? Perhaps that is only fair since you are their leader."
He came slowly towards me and I found myself trembling with fear. Fear? Yes, because he was not human, more than human. He was Iron John a part of the legend of life, I could not hurt him.
He wasn't. I scrabbled to my feet, my leg ached, moved away. He was much bigger, wider, stronger than I was. But no, he wasn't a legend. He was a man.
"A big fat red slob!" I shouted. "A hairy conman!"
His eyes were wide, red, angry. His arched fingers reached for me. I feinted a fist at his jaw, saw him move to block it. Kept turning in an unstoppable kick to his knee.
It connected - but he made no attempt to avoid it. My foot hurt. His knee, his kneecap, looked unhurt.
"I am Iron John!" he shouted. "Iron - iron!"
I fell back, there was no escape. I swung a twisting punch that he took on his biceps. It felt like striking stone. Then his fist to my ribs sent me skidding down the room.
When I gasped in breath it hurt. Felt like something was broken there. Stand up, Jim! I got as far as my knees and he came on.
I blinked as I saw two arms encircle his legs, send him staggering. Kicking out. It was Steengo who had crawled behind him, tried to trip him. Who was now sent crashing back into the wall. To fall and not move again.
I was barely aware of this because the instant Iron John's attention had wandered I had jumped. Getting an arm around his neck, grappling my own wrist. Pulling my forearm tight against his throat to crush his larynx, to cut off blood and air. The armlock that kills in seconds. My face was buried in his rank red fur as I tightened hard, harder than I ever had before.
To no avail. I could feel the tendons in his neck stiffen like steel bars, taking the pressure that should have been on his throat. He lifted one hand slowly, then sank his fingers deep into my flesh - hurled me across the room to crash into the wall, fall.
I realized that the voice wailing in agony was my own. I could not move. The soldier at the door looked at me, looked away. Steengo had lain, motionless, since that single, terrible blow. Nor could I do much better myself, just able to crawl.
At least Iron John had felt my hold; he was rubbing at his neck. The smile had gone and frothed saliva now coated his lips. Death would be a single blow…
"Iron John - you have forgotten something. You have forgotten me."
Floyd was speaking. Thin, black-bearded, uninvolved. He must have stood and watched while Steengo was stricken, I was felled. Only now did he move.
Quietly forward. Hands extended, fingers lightly bowed. Iron John was in a rage. Leaped and lashed out.