Voyage of the Fox Rider (90 page)

Wrapped in shadow, Jinnarin watched as Trolls thundered by, her breath coming in gasps, for these were terrible monsters. And she prayed to Adon that Tivir and Tink had escaped, and that Bokar and the warband had managed to free the galley before the alarm sounded.

“Ready!” hissed Aravan. “The Trolls are past. The
Yrm
come after. We cannot let them get by to take command.”

Jinnarin peered out into the corridor. In the distance oncoming torchlight shone ‘round the bend. “Let’s go!” she hissed, and into the passageway scurried dark clusters
to run alongside each wall, Aravan following, his crossbow cocked and loaded.

As they came to the side passage leading to the Trolls’ den and Aravan stepped within, ‘round the main passage came the torchbearing
Rûpt
, the Spawn armed and armored and heading for the quay. And into the innocent shadows they stepped, but of a sudden they clutched at necks and cheeks, as if stung by bees. And as those in the fore were felled, those bringing up the rear shrieked in alarm and turned to flee even as the Pysks set arrows to string.

Aravan sighted his crossbow, but from behind there came a grunt, and he whirled about just as a monstrous grasp caught him up and slammed him against the stone wall, stunning him, his crossbow clattering away in the dark.

Into the hallway lunged the Troll, roaring in monstrous glee, dazed Aravan trapped in his crushing grip.

Shouting for help, Jinnarin loosed her tiny arrow at the brute, but it merely bounced off the scaled hide.

In the water below the galley, Tink and Tivir clambered into a dingy and then up the line to the deck of the galley, where they found Dwarves and Men desperately hewing at a Troll, gallantly trying to bring it down. But their axes and cutlasses and Jatu’s warbar merely clanged against scales like stone, while the Troll smashed the warriors and sailors aside as if they were nought but pests, and bones were broken with each of his blows. And Trolls ashore jeered as the defenders were whelmed away.

Tink grabbed Tivir by the arm. “C’mon! Let’s kill’m!”

Together they ran to one of the ballistas and set it up on its footing. As Tivir wound the crank, Tink opened one of the boxes of javelins, taking care not to touch the dark smut smeared along the length of the steel point.

Tink placed the shaft in the ballista groove.

Then, while Tivir braced the pedestal, Tink stepped to the stock and aimed. “Dona hit no Dwarf nor Man!” barked Tivir.

“‘Don, guide me,” Tink prayed, and then loosed.

Thnn!
the shaft hurtled through the air, the recoil knocking Tink and Tivir flat to the deck, the ballista landing atop them.

Thok!
the spear slammed into the Troll, striking him in the full of his back, running him through, the dark-smeared point emerging from his chest. His eyes wide, the Troll looked down at this thing piercing his body and opened his mouth to roar, but staggered hindwards instead, toppling over the rail and into the water with a great splash, to plummet from sight.

From the deck where he’d been knocked, a ballista in his lap, Tink looked at Tivir and said, “I’ll be damned, Tiv, we got him!”

Laughing insanely, and ignoring the shadows, the Troll raised up Aravan, preparing to dash his skull against glittering stone, while all about him Pysks loosed their tiny arrows, to no avail, for they merely bounced from the monster’s scaled hide.

But before he slammed the Elf into the wall, a look of cunning swept over the Troll’s face, and instead he clutched Aravan’s chest in both hands, the thick fingers wrapping completely ‘round, the creature preparing to crush the life from the Elf, to slowly squeeze the air from him, to shatter ribs, to hear him bubble on his own blood, the brute now leering at this most clever plan. And deliberately he tightened his grip.

The pain brought Aravan awake, and with his ribs creaking under the strain, gasping, he heard Jinnarin shouting, “Do him in the eye, Aravan! Do him in the eye!”

Desperately, Aravan scrabbled at the long-knife strapped to his thigh, while the monstrous Troll laughed in cruel glee and slowly squeezed. In an agonized groan, air hissed out from Aravan’s lungs, and there came the crack of breaking ribs. The Troll’s eyes flew wide in delight at this sound of damage and torment from his helpless victim, and he held the Elf up to his ear to hear better, and squeezed again. But as another rib snapped, Aravan jerked his long-knife free and before the Troll could react, he slammed the dark blade straight into the monster’s ear, the grume-smeared
tip punching through, delivering Fox Rider poison directly to the creature’s brain.

In agony, the Troll sucked in a great breath of air as if to shout, but instead collapsed sideways, slamming Aravan to stone, while shadowy clusters scattered away to escape the falling monster.

And the passage filled with a sickening stench as death loosed the Troll’s bowels and bladder.

Struggling, Aravan managed to free himself from the creature’s grip. He painfully stood and tried to take a deep breath but could not, for five of his ribs were cracked.

“Quickly,” commanded Bokar, “set the ballistas in place. Burak, Fager, Jatu, you others, tend the wounded. Tink, Tivir, jeer at the Trolls. We must keep them here until Captain Aravan deals with the Black Mage.”

“Ar,” shouted Tivir, grasping the foremast rigging and leaping to the rail and waving at the Trolls, “y’ stupid gobs of snot! We kilt y’r mate, we did. Me ’n’ Tink done it, roight enough.”

“Right you are, Tivir me lad!” shrieked Tink, climbing up to stand beside Tivir. “And if any of you ugly toad suckers want a taste of th’ same, come and get it. We’re waiting, or are you too frightened to face us mighty Troll killers, eh?”

“‘N’ besides bein’ toad suckers,” added Tivir, “y’r so oogly y’d spoil milk. O’ course, that’s th’ way y’ loike it, Oi shouldn’t wonder, good ’n’ blinky!

“’N’ lemme tell y’ about y’r oogly mothers…”

It is uncertain whether any of the Trolls understood a single word shouted at them by the two lads, but that they were being jeered at, the creatures had no doubt at all. And while some Dwarves hammered spikes to mount the ballistas to the deck of the drifting ship, and others uncrated the javelins—javelins whose blades were coated with Fox Rider poison brewed in secret by the Pysks in Tarquin’s woods—and while Fager and Burak and Jatu and sailors tended the wounded, the Trolls roared out Slûkish curses and raved back and forth along the dock, and two or three,
frothing at the mouth in anger, disappeared into the passageway behind.

Groaning and holding his rib cage, Aravan stepped to the dead Troll and retrieved his long-knife. Then in the shadows of the side passage he found his flung-away crossbow, the weapon spent, the quarrel gone, the bow having fired when it had hurtled against the wall, though the bow itself was unbroken. Sissing in pain, he managed to cock it and lay another poison quarrel into the groove. And through clenched teeth he said, “Let us go on.”

Down the passage they scurried, did the shadows, ‘round limping Aravan, while behind from the direction of the quay there sounded the roaring of Trolls. Moments later the Pysks and Elf came to the side passage leading to the Ruch and Lok quarters, and they could hear scrabbling down that way. Squatting, wincing, Aravan whispered, “Anthera.” When a shadow approached, he jerked his head toward the passage and said, “I would have no
Rûpt
at our backs; take half and deal with them while the rest of us go on. Follow as soon as ye are done. —Jinnarin, Farrix, stay with me.”

Six clusters of darkness broke away and headed down the rough-hewn side corridor, while Aravan and the others pressed forward along the main way.

’Round a long curve limped Aravan, shadows running fore and aft, and at last they came to the split where to their right lay the gathering hall and the three chambers on past, and to their left lay the crystal chamber, Durlok’s quarters beyond. Again Aravan squatted, his breathing shallow, labored. “Who is left?” he whispered.

Jinnarin dropped her shadow as did the others. Aravan scanned them all. “Fia, Dwnic, Lurali, Temen, again I want no
Rûpt
at our back; if any hide in the gathering hall, galley, privy, or prison, deal with them. If there are prisoners, I would know that as well.” Aravan gestured at the passage leading toward the crystal chamber. “Seek us yon when ye are done.”

Once again all the Pysks gathered shadow unto
themselves, and four slipped down the right-hand way, while Aravan and two went left.