Azel shook his head as the Dartars came piling out of Tosh Alley. That dumbshit Ishabal did not know they were there. Fool. Why hadn't he scouted thearea again before he made his move? Now he would pay.
Ishabal used some flash. Big deal. That wasn't going to change anything now.
Whoa! What was this?
Four men charged into the chaos from up the street.
Azel chuckled. Those were Bruda's boys, come to see about the ruckus. Theymust have followed Ishabal's men when they'd lost him.
The Dartars didn't give a shit who they worked for. They weren't wearingblack. They piled on.
Ha! Ishabal had given up on flash and changed to punch. He'd opened a clearpath out, downhill, and he wasn't wasting it.
Azel prized himself up off the roof and bounded away, muttering because hismuscles had stiffened up in the few minutes he had lain there in the cool anddamp.
It was easy to figure what a man was going to do when you knew what he had todo. Ishabal had to shut that kid up or he wasn't going to get away. And he hadto do it without hurting the kid or the whole exercise was pointless. He wouldneed a lead, which he had, then a place where he could get his back to a wallfor a minute.
Azel knew a perfect place. If Ishabal had done his scouting right, he wouldknow it, too, and would be headed there right now.
Azel took the shorter, straighter route over the rooftops.
The place was a cul-de-sac between buildings, three feet wide and ten deep, black as Nakar's heart inside, a deathtrap that would be avoided by anyone notarmed with the confidence that came of having flash and punch and whatever else at hand.
Azel dropped into that place and folded himself up in a ball in the back, waited, wondered if he would stiffen up too soon.
Ishabal came, a vagueness moving in blackness. He faced out of the narrowplace and went to work doing whatever he needed to do to quiet the brat down.
Azel used the last of the racket to cover whatever sound he made unwinding andmoving forward.
He did something to give himself away. The vagueness that was Ishabalstiffened, started to react an instant before Azel set the point of his knifeagainst his spine and said, "Don't."
Ishabal froze. "Azel?"
"You really screwed it up, Ish. Going to have the whole city going crazy, trying to figure it out. And they're going to figure it once they startdigging."
"I told them. They don't care. She says this kid is the one she wants. Look, we got to get out of here. They aren't that far behind me."
Ishabal was pretty good. Azel almost missed the minuscule warning hitch as hewent to his belt. Almost.
Azel thrust. Ishabal bucked away from the killing blade. The flash packet flewfrom his fingers unopened, hit, spilled a few grains, began to burn slowlyinstead of exploding. Azel pushed the dying man away and squatted to collectthe now unconscious boy.
A foot scraped. He looked up into the eyes of the same Dartar he'd run intotwice before.
He clamped down on the rage that seized him, surged upward, flung the boytoward the sky, so that the upper half of his body landed on the roof and heldhim there. Then he faced the Dartar and his companion in the light of thesmoldering flash.
So. He would leave them here with Ishabal. It would make a fine puzzle forwhoever found them, the three of them all dead and the boy gone.
"You just got in my way one time too many, camel boy. This one is the lasttime." He moved forward.
In response the Darter uncovered his face. Hell. He wasn't nothing but a kid.
A shaky kid carrying a knife in his left hand, with his right hand tucked upbehind him like he was wounded or something.
Azel moved in.
The Dartar's hand came out thrusting with a javelin.
Azel dodged and blocked just well enough to keep from getting killed. The headof the javelin sliced along his left cheek and ruined his ear. He grabbed thejavelin's shaft and pulled.
The Dartar hung on and kicked violently with his left foot. Azel turned hiship to take the blow but it came higher than he anticipated, struck squarelyon his right elbow, numbing his arm so badly he could not hang on to hisknife. He kneed the Dartar and at the same time flailed the numb arm hard enough to knock the knife out of the boy's left hand. The Dartar pulledhimself in and clung. Azel started to crush him in a bear hug.
The second man's knife came in and ripped along his ribs, a hairline of fire.
The kid was trying to hold him while the other man killed him.
He kneed the Dartar again and felt his grip go watery with the pain. Azelshoved him back into the other man, backed away, jumped.
First try, his still half-numb arm betrayed him. He slipped back. He jumpedagain. As he went up, the Dartar's companion buried a knife in his right calfand tried to pull him back down. He kicked the guy in the head with his rightfoot, pulled himself onto the roof. He yanked the knife out of his calf, dragged the brat all the way onto the roof so nobody could grab a leg and pullhim back down.
Azel heard nothing stirring below. He lay there panting and hurting for aminute, till he heard cautious voices approaching in the darkness. Then he gothimself up, picked up the brat, and started moving.
He ignored the fires in his cheek and ear, his calf and side. He told himselfhe was too good to let a little pain distract him.
When the uproar broke out outside, Zenobel growled, "What the hell?" andheaded for the door.
"Hold it!" bel-Sidek snapped. "Kill the lamps. Whatever it is, we don't wantit getting interested in us."
By the time the lamps were out and bel-Sidek had gotten to the door and hadopened it a crack, the uproar was that of a battle. Bel-Sidek said, "It's aband of Dartars slaughtering a bunch of Qushmarrahans."
Carza asked, "Why?"
"How should I know?" bel-Sidek was troubled.
Zenobel asked, "What are Dartars doing in Char Street at this time of night?"
"Why don't you go ask?" bel-Sidek backed away so the others could take turnspeeking. Zenobel ended up being the sentinel at the crack who reported to therest, sitting there in darkness. "They've gotten a torch lit. Collecting upthe dead and wounded. Looks like three prisoners and seven dead. None of themDartars. Make that eight dead. They just brought in another one. Looks likethey're getting ready to question the survivors. Some more around a doorwaydown there, talking. Funny. Nobody's come out to see what's going on."
Bel-Sidek said, "It isn't strange, here where the night belongs to the beastsof the maze. Close it. They aren't interested in us. Let's keep it that way.
Light a lamp, King. Just one. Can't anybody think of an alternative to Hannobel-Kaifa?"
Salom Edgit asked, "Why don't you trust him?" "I trust him, Salom. That's not the problem. I don't like him. The dislike is so strong I think it would affect my ability to work with him."
Zenobel took another peek outside. He planned to sneak another in a minute. He held the door closed with his hand instead of latching it.
It exploded inward.
The Dartars helped Aaron out of the alley. By the time they reached Char Street he could move under his own power. Mumbling, he invited them to bring Yoseh into his home so they would have light to look him over.
Aaron stopped in the doorway. A Dartar with bare saber stood guard inside. The fallen invaders had been removed. Laella, battered but apparently all right, knelt over her mother, in front of the hearth. Across the room Mish satagainst the wall and held Stafa tight against her breast. She sobbed softly.
Laella looked up. Aaron shook his head. Her face turned to stone. She rose, came to examine his injuries. He moved aside so the Dartars could bring Yosehin. They invited themselves to bring all their injured. Laella did notprotest.
She touched his face. He winced, asked, "How is she?"
"I think she's hurt inside." There was an edge of hysteria in her voice.
"Take it easy. What about you? How about Stafa and Mish?"
"We're all right." She leaned against him. "What did we ever do to those men, Aaron? How could they do that?" "I don't know. I'm going to find out." He pushed her away gently, went to his toolbox, and took out a heavy, bronze-headed maul.