Ligne chuckled. “Well, well.”
Kherda smiled at her. He could take Bronwynn on this move, and Ligne would then be free to take Danyilyn three to one to one, a victory for the Queen. Or he could take one of Ligne’s pieces, and her succeeding move could not prevent Pelmen from seizing that same winning margin.
The cry of “Razor” was normally the cue for a vigorous round of negotiations between players to begin. Often the player with a Razor walked off with more gold in his pocket than the winner himself. But Pelmen felt no desire to negotiate. He had lost. He only wondered why, this time, Serphimera had been wrong.
“Go ahead,” Ligne ordered. “Take her.”
Kherda looked Bronwynn straight in the eyes and took Ligne’s piece instead!
Queen Ligne stared. The act was so incomprehensible, she could think of nothing to say. Pelmen grunted in surprise, and stared as well.
Unbelievably, he had won. He turned his head to gaze at Kherda, and found the man was looking at him. Whether or not he understood the import of the change in Pelmen’s face, Kherda remembered the befriending of the fool and Ligne’s back. Now, he’d repaid them both.
“Kill them!” screamed Ligne. “Kill them all!” Before she finished the phrase, swords were whistling out of their sheaths and armed warriors were advancing on the players.
Not only does she cheat, she’s a welcher as well! bellowed the Imperial House suddenly, and the bells on the wall broke into a horrendous clamor.
Pelmen threw back his head and laughed joyously. “I wondered when we’d finally hear from you.”
Joss did not pause an instant Already his sword was in the air, and he charged forward, intent on dispatching Bronwynn first, then the rest.
Ligne’s game had gone on far too long. It was time to restore some cold-steel discipline to this castle. “Hold, Joss!” cried someone on his right, and he whirled to see who challenged him. He stared down the blade of Rosha mod Dorlyth.
“How did you Carlad!” Joss roared, as he watched the guard sprint for the wall to tear another sword from it. The lad’s guard had proved himself a mudgecurdle!
“Yes,. Carlad cut me free,” Rosha shouted as he whirled the guard’s blade into motion above his head and leaped between Joss and the knot of players. “And Queen Bronwynn will reward him for it.”
No welcher dwells within this House! trumpeted the castle, and the room started quaking. The House was angry and it finally found the energy to express its rage.
Rosha kicked a sword from one warrior’s fist and slammed shut the visor of another as the floor shuddered and then buckled. Soldiers and spectators alike tumbled to their knees, and the room filled with panicked screeching. People scrambled for the exits, jamming the hallways beyond the doors just as tightly as they’d jammed the game room. Many warriors dropped their weapons and raced to join them.
Others, fearing their lords’ reprisals worse than falling stones, staggered to their feet and struggled forward. The floor shifted again, and the walls shimmied, and still more guards chose to abandon the fight to join the flight. Those few who kept shoving forward through the scattering mob suddenly faced a dilemma. Ligne’s piercing voice still rose above the roar, but once they got into the open space where the troupe clustered, they faced the whirling blade of Rosha mod Dorlyth. Steel clashed on steel only by accident, as warriors seeking to brake their charge came into range of his weapon. No one wanted to battle the brawny savage.
None save Lord Joss himself. “Come then, young warrior,” Joss called grimly. “We shall see if the Golden Throng might be avenged for the battle of Westmouth on the son of the Mari commander.”
“There is some vengeance I crave as well, Joss,” Rosba snarled back.
“Vengeance for a broken promise and a cowardly betrayal!” As the room rocked from side to side and the screeching became intolerable, the two warriors clashed together over the giant Drax board.
Pelmen spent these chaotic minutes whispering reassurances and struggling with knotted ropes. “Relax,” he soothed, “the House is angry at Ligne, not us.”
“Maybe so.” Gerrig quaked in terror. “But are you sure it can control on whom it drops its walls? Look out!” A chandelier came crashing to the floor, crushing half a dozen unfortunate spectators.
Pelmen turned his attention to the sword battle. Joss was letting the younger warrior do all the work, circling him warily and parrying each blow with a skill born of experience. Rosha attacked him doggedly, his face twisted by a fierce scowl. Their swords rang together twice before they tangled in one another’s arms, and Joss quickly booted Rosha in the thigh and jabbed him under the breast with his elbow.
Rosha hurtled backward, his chest unhurt but his leg suddenly cramping.
He planted that leg to dodge the General’s onslaught, but it couldn’t hold his weight, and Rosha tumbled to the floor. Joss grinned and plunged his sword through the sprawling lad
At least, he thought he did. But when he pulled back on his haft, he felt no resistance then he noticed his blade had liquefied. He stepped back in astonishment, then quickly tossed the useless pommel aside and dragged out his dagger. Before he could raise it above his head, its blade liquefied as well, and he staggered, staring at yet another useless haft. He glanced up then, and saw Pelmen standing ten feet away, his arms extended, his palms up. “Are… are you doing this?”
Joss choked out. “Oh, not I,” Pelmen said. “But it is being done.”
Joss threw up his hands and backed away. “How can a mortal withstand such powers?” he shouted. Then he knelt and bowed his head. “I’m ready to die,” he called. Throughout his life, Joss had been a gloating victor. But somewhere through it all he had learned how to lose gracefully.
Pelmen sighed. “That’s the nice thing about miracles,” he told Bronwynn and Serphimera, “They’re so very special.”
She’s getting away, announced the Imperial House, and Pelmen jerked his head up to listen. “How?” he demanded.
Through the walls.
“Bronwynn, she’s leaving through the walls!”
“I know where she’s going. Get me loose!” Pelmen nodded, and dropped to his knees to tear at her knots with his teeth.
“Here,” Rosha grunted, and he pushed Pelmen aside to slash through her bonds with Carlad’s sword. Another quick slash and her hobbles were cut, and Bronwynn dashed to the wall to rip down a practice sword.
Pelmen sprinted right behind her and grabbed off a pair of blades.
“What about us?” Gerrig hollered. Right above them a chandelier identical to the one that had fallen swung wildly. Gerrig’s eyes never left it.
“You’ll be all right,” Pelmen called as he raced back and stooped to hack at Gerrig’s bonds. Carlad quickly joined him, and soon the actor was free. “Here. Protect the rest of them.” Pelmen shoved one of his swords into Gerrig’s hands and took off after Bronwynn and Rosha, who had disappeared into a gaping hole in the wall.
“There’s a tiny dock on the northern face!” Bronwynn was calling as Pelmen started down a dangerously steep stairway in the dark. “She’s headed for the escape craft”
Actually, she’s already in it, the castle corrected.
“The House says she’s there,” Pelmen shouted as he stumbled. It was impossible to move quickly and cautiously at the same time. “Can we stop her?”
“If we hurry ” Bronwynn started to yell back. Then there was a heavy thud, and Bronwynn groaned. “She’s bolted the door!”