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killing each in turn --
Until, when he d almost reached the end, he heard a bellow of alarm and rage
from the hall outside. The dead guard had been found in the entry hall. Men
were springing from their beds at the noise, confused in the blackness,
staring toward the sound. Several groped for their weapons on the wall. Nils
moved like a giant beweaponed dervish then, slashing, slaying. There were
shrieks and shouts. The double doors burst open, and a man stepped in with a
lamp. More men were turning toward the uproar;
swords were being drawn. Nils s great blade swept and hewed, and men fell,
until only eight or ten still stood, desperate. Seeing death upon them, they
rallied.
Nils gave way then, backing quickly toward the far end of the barracks, and
the guardsmen, encouraged, pressed him. The foremost he slew, and the second;
the rest hung back. One called to bring halberds, another called for a bow.
Nils reached the door, slipped the bar, threw it open and ran into the
courtyard.
Instantly they were after him, though not too closely.
He raced to a stairway and up the wall. The guard at the corner waited for
him, and struck down at him with his sword.
Nils fended it as others reached the stairs behind him. His huge left hand
shot out, grabbed the guardsman s ankle, shoved upward, twisted, jerked. The
man s arms flailed to keep his balance, and Nils s sword thrust up into him.
Then the Northman pounced to the top of the wall, spun, and struck down his
leading pursuer. The rest hung back again; there were only a handful left, He
turned his back to them, hopped onto the parapet, and sword in hand jumped
off.
He lit crouching, not falling, and loped off into the night. He was outside
the skirt of garden walls, and no one was willing to pursue him.
PART V
CLOSURE
THIRTY-SIX
Baver sat on the sleeping shelf in his cell.
It was night, and the only light was the faint glow from an oil lamp down the
corridor. He was grateful for that much. Charles DuBois had told him about the
dungeon in the City of Kazi, and like the rest of the crew he d gotten a
mini-briefing on what had happened to Chan and Anne there. Then there was the
canto in the Järnhann Saga, about the dungeon Nils had been in in Hungary.
This is probably one of the most civilized prison cells on the planet, he told
himself. No leg irons, I ve got my own
latrine bucket, my own water pail -- and the sleeping shelf has a straw mat on
it! It s not even really filthy!
He half grunted, half chuckled. Semi-barbaric accommodations for a
semi-barbaric prisoner. He had become semi-barbaric, at least outwardly. But
semi-barbaric hadn t been enough. The true, hundred percent barbarians had
escaped.
Or was Nils actually a barbarian? In antiquity, barbarians had evolved into
civilized men -- men whose society was ruled from towns, by governments. Could
barbarians evolve into something besides civilized man? Maybe Nils was that
something else; maybe he only seemed to be a barbarian because he lived in a
barbarian milieu. Or was he simply a new and fuller flowering of barbarianism?
Flowering of barbarianism! This time Baver s chuckle was genuine.
What, he asked himself, would Nils do if he were here? The answer seemed
obvious: Nils would sleep. He wouldn t fret, and he wouldn t try anything
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heroic. Not unless there was a good prospect that it would work, or some
prospect anyway.
Or -- If there was no prospect at all that it would work, no prospect at all
of freedom, probably Nils would do something to go out on his own terms. To
create an effect, probably dramatic, instead of going down silently.
Or would he? Baver shook his head. When it came to Nils Järnhann, guesses were
suspect. Good guesses required understanding, he told himself, and he
certainly didn t understand Nils.
Admired him, liked him, was intrigued by him -- yes. But he didn t understand
him.
He stood up, stretched, bent and touched his feet. And told himself he should
try exercising to exhaustion; maybe that would help him sleep. But somehow . .
. He sat back down. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]