The Tower of Bashan (34 page)

Andrasta looked around. “Where is the next one then? Shouldn’t it be attacking?”

“I don’t know.”

“The bones of the ape didn’t form until you walked on a particular square on the floor. That must have triggered the transformation,” said Lela.

Rondel nodded. ‘“
Step heavy and warriors live.’ “
I’ll buy that.”

“During the fight, me and the skeleton must have stepped on another pictured tile,” said Andrasta.

“Probably so.”

“Then why haven’t the others activated?”

“I’ve told you before that Thalamanak was eccentric. Who knows why he did what he did? I’m sure it served a purpose to him.”

“He had to be crazy to build this tower,” added Lela. “I mean he could have just came up with a spell to kill the person entering instantly rather than set up all these guardians to get past.”

“So, how do we do this?” Andrasta asked.

“Well, since it seems we are responsible for activating each one, we take our time and make sure we have a plan in place to stop them beforehand.”

Andrasta grunted. “Toss me a skin of water. We’ll get started on the next one in a minute.”

* * *

Methodically, the three worked their way through each pile of bones, taking on everything from a huge tiger to a minotaur. Each set of remains posed their own problems, but after careful study of each plaque Rondel figured out a strategy to defeat each reanimated skeleton before it could gain any advantage over them.

Just one more left. Well, three actually.

He reread the last plaque to himself for the seventh time.

I think I got it all. But what if I don’t?

“Let me read this out loud so you two can make sure I haven’t missed anything.”

In his youth, he had always wanted to do everything on his own. He never accepted help or advice.

He was no longer so immature.

Better to look like a fool than to be dead.

Rondel began. “The Condescini Triplets were among the greatest swordsmen of their age. Together, they fought in a unique back-to-back-to-back style that involved lightning quick slashes and short stabs while weaving in and out of each other’s guards. In the Battle of Thermaclasius, the brothers were credited with killing over two thousand men alone, holding a breach in the outer wall of the city until reinforcements arrived.”

“Have you ever heard of that battle?” Andrasta asked Rondel.

“Only as a myth. Few believe that the battle actually took place.”

“What do you believe?”

“Considering all we’ve been through, there’s little I wouldn’t believe at this point.”

She grunted. “How long ago did the battle occur?”

“Thousands of years ago. Before even the name Thalamanak was whispered.”

Her brow furrowed. “Then how did he get the bones of the triplets? More of his blasted sorcery?”

Rondel shrugged. “More than likely. I’ll make a note to ask him when I die if you’d like.”

She snorted.

Lela cleared her throat as if annoyed. “What about the rest of it?”

Rondel continued. “The brothers died in the most ironic of ways, each mortally killing another while trying to save a different sibling. This occurred when the great strategist, General Piaz, took advantage of the chaotic nature of battle and played off what he felt was the only weakness of the brothers, an unselfish love for each other.” Rondel snorted. “Tragic. I’m sure the poets of the time ate that story up.”

“I don’t like it,” muttered Andrasta. “The greatest swordsmen in the world would have a better sense of their surroundings. It doesn’t seem like they’d forget themselves to the point of killing each other.”

“Everyone is capable of making a mistake, especially in battle. Besides, it says the general did something to quicken their mistake.”

“But all three at once?”

“Well, it happened.”

“Still . . .”

“And if I recall, you’ve said before that one of the worst things a person can do in a fight is allow themselves to become distracted by their emotions. It sounds like this General Piaz knew this as well.”

“Did we learn anything new?” interrupted Lela.

Rondel shook his head. “No. Not that there was much to learn from given what little information the plaque held. Let’s go check over everything once more before we begin.”

They walked to the altar.

Rondel had prepared almost twice as long for the Condescini Triplets, using everything he could think of, including the discarded bones from other creatures to set up various traps. It was his hope that he could create his own form of chaos to mimic that of a true battle.

He also examined each brother’s pile of bones, identifying their sword arms based on the picture on the plague.
All right-handed.
He tied a rope to each arm.

“Remember,” he called out. “Only pull on the rope when I give the signal. I don’t want a repeat of the vulture.”

“I said I was sorry,” said Lela.

After they defeated the great ape, Urkil, they fought the remains of a massive vulture with a wingspan over thirty feet across. They found out the hard way that the skeleton had to fully form before an attempt to defeat it could be made. His shoulder still smarted from one of the wings knocking him into a wall.

“I’m not bringing it up again so you’ll feel bad. I didn’t know what would happen either. Just trying to make a point that we need to keep our heads. Let’s get into position.”

He walked to his spot on the right side of the altar and grabbed a rope and four strands of smaller twine. The twine would trigger several traps around the altar, two flinging bone gathered from other skeletons, one striking flint in the hopes it would light the lamp oil spread on top of the altar, and the last would send a thick piece of rope through the air at the brothers like a whip.

“Ready?” he asked.

Lela went to the left side and picked up her rope. She took a deep breath. “Ready.”

Andrasta walked in front of the triplets’ altar, stepping over three taut pieces of twine tied to the altar behind her. Each strand led to several stones he had positioned above the altar. He hoped the stones would fall on top of the brothers.

Andrasta grabbed her rope in one hand while readying her sword in the other.

He asked. “Ready?”

She nodded.

Rondel took a deep breath, trying to still his racing heart. “Alright. Press the tile.”

Andrasta stepped on the square trigger near the altar for the Condescini Triplets. The three piles of bones began rising on their own accord, forming the legs and hips of each brother.

“Traps, now!” Rondel shouted. He hoped each would strike the skeletons just as the skeletons fully re-formed. Timing was everything.

Andrasta swiped her sword over three taut pieces of twine which released the overhead stones. Rondel yanked the four he held as the remainder of the spinal column, ribs, shoulders, arms, neck, and head all fell into place on each brother.

“Ropes, now!” he shouted, pulling hard to the right with all he had as stone crashed, bones flew, rope whooshed by, and fire ignited in the cacophony he had hoped for. The fleshless remains of the triplets moved in a blur, dodging and knocking away the distractions in each other’s blind spots.

Rondel had worried that the triplets would recognize the ropes tied to their sword arms quickly enough to compensate for the tugging.

But it worked.

The skeletons of the two brothers nearest Rondel fell apart as the sword of the adjacent sibling entered the empty space between their ribs. The third however, remained standing.

Well, it mostly worked. Just great.

If the skeleton would have had a face, Rondel was sure it would have frowned as it regarded the once more deceased remains of its brothers.

How is that possible?
Rondel quickly looked down and saw the error. One brother had held his sword in his left hand rather than the right.

The picture was wrong.
The skeleton of the surviving brother looked up at Rondel. Somehow, the empty sockets radiated anger.
Aw, crap.

“Andrasta!” he shouted, knowing there was no way he could defend himself against anyone considered a master swordsmen.

The skeleton leaped at him with sword arm extended. A dark blur collided with the bones and the two slammed into the ground with a clatter. Andrasta rolled to her feet as the skeleton reformed itself. The two began trading blows at a frantic pace.

Gods, I can barely see their blades.

Lela ran to him from the other side of the altar. “Why didn’t it work?”

“The picture was wrong. One of the brothers was actually left-handed.” Rondel shook his head, turning his attention back to the altar in the hopes of coming up with a solution to their problem. “As if this wasn’t hard enough.”

“What do we do?” Lela’s voice came out shaky.

Her face hardened. She reached for the dagger at her waist. Rondel stopped her.

“We have to help her,” she pleaded, gesturing with her hand.

“Of course we have to help her, but whatever you’re thinking of doing will only get you killed, likely her as well because she’ll then have to worry about saving you again.”

Andrasta leaped over a low sweep of the skeleton’s blade, sidestepped a quick thrust, and dove aside to avoid a descending slash. She recovered and countered with a flurry all her own. One of her half dozen strikes found its mark. But without flesh, her sword bounced of the one leg of her opponent with no effect.

“Should we say something to her at least?” she shouted over the clanking of sword strokes.

“What could we possibly say to help her right now? Talking to her will only be a distraction.”

“Should we activate the tile again?”

“Are you mad?”

“The brothers are supposed to kill each other and they can’t do that dead.”

“Andrasta is struggling to hold off one now. How are we going to stop three with all our traps sprung?”

“Then what do we do?”

“I don’t know. It’s a bit hard to think with all your questions. Just be quiet for a moment.”

Lela shut her mouth and Rondel did his best to block out the grunting and heavy breathing from Andrasta while the skeleton chased her around the room.

He stared at the bones of the two brothers. An idea struck him.

Not the best of ideas, but an idea nonetheless.

“Quick, grab all the twine you can find and bring it to me,” he instructed Lela.

Rondel began pulling small hand bones from one of the piles, grouping them together with what he thought were the bones of the wrist and forearm. Lela threw down a pile of twine beside him.

“What are you planning?”

“I’m going to bind as much of the arm and hand as I can with the sword. Then I’ll try to stab the last brother with it. I’m hoping that will be enough to do the job.” He swore, fumbling to tie a knot with his damaged hand. “Here, help me with this. Tie off what I’m wrapping.”

Within a few moments Rondel had constructed the ugliest and oddest shape of bones, rope, and sword imaginable.
Hopefully, it works better than it looks.

“Andrasta!” he called out, pushing Lela to safety behind the altar. “Bring the skeleton over this way. Have it give me its back and keep it occupied.”

Andrasta was too busy to openly acknowledge Rondel, but he knew she understood. Sweat dripped down her face as she shuffled toward Rondel. He stood atop the altar to get a more advantageous angle. He held the mess of bone, twine, and sword in sweaty hands.

Please work.

He edged himself closer, knowing he’d only have one chance to attack the brother. It would have to be timed perfectly so that he and Andrasta struck simultaneously.

He can’t deflect two attacks at once.

Andrasta pressed the skeleton so that it backed toward Rondel. Her sword arced downward, and he threw the sword and arm at the same time.

Both missed their mark. Somehow, the skeleton twisted, and ducked away from both strikes. Andrasta’s sword passed through the empty air while Rondel’s make-shift weapon flew into dozens of pieces as the sword of the last brother slammed into it.

Crap. Now what.

The skeleton focused only on Rondel, its arm rearing back. Rondel reached for his short sword out of instinct even knowing he’d never clear his scabbard in time.

The skeleton burst apart, clattering to the stone floor.

He blinked in surprise.

Lela stood a half step behind where the brother had been. In her hands she held a ball of bones, twine and a sword from one of the brothers.

Rondel’s brow furrowed. “How did you . . .”

“I thought it made sense to have another ready just in case. I threw this together quickly.”