The Minstrel Boy was a little tired of taking attitude from Billy. So the guy had had it bad. Well, which of them hadn't had it bad at one time or another?
'All I've been trying to say is that I find it more than a coincidence that the three of us have been reunited right whenthe world looks like it's going into the start of a new, all-over phase of violence.'
Renatta looked up. 'What makes you think the world's going into a new, all-over phase of violence? How would you know? You've been holed up in the Caverns all this time.'
'I'm only guessing, but it sure looks like it. The Hunters are loose in the Caverns, Baptiste and his gang are running amok among the stasis towns, and Billy's seen nothing but violence since he left the Sanctuary. Even that river settlement we stumbled into was being blown apart by air pirates.'
For once, Reave was on his side. 'He's right about that. There's trouble all over. Baptiste's bunch isn't the only one out raiding the settlements. It sure seems like something's on the boil.'
'All I know is that the three of us ran as a bonded triad and — '
Reave switched back. 'A bonded triad? Is that what we were? Hell, I thought we were just three guys who hung out and got into trouble together. Where've you been getting all of these high-priced words?'
The Minstrel Boy flashed with drunken irritation. 'Can I get to finish a thought, goddamn it?'
Billy laughed. 'Be our guest.'
The Minstrel Boy picked up the brandy bottle and found that it was empty. That was the last straw. 'This is pointless. I'm going to get another bottle.'
'Why don't you just ring for the steward?'
'I could use the walk. Think about this, though, while I'm gone. I may be crazy for looking for some external force that's brought us together, but if there is one, we'd be in a lot better position if we could figure out what it was.'
Swaying slightly, the Minstrel Boy left the room. Outside in the corridor, he had to lean against the wall for a moment. He was drunker than he had thought. He took a couple of deep breaths and pushed himself upright again.
'Pull yourself together, boy. You've got to make it to the Great Hall.'
The dim, smoky gaslights that were the only illumination in the corridor refused to keep still as he lurched toward the steps that led down into the hall. His head was swimming, and he started having second thoughts. Maybe he didn't need thewalk, after all. Perhaps he should just go back and call the steward. He stopped, and that moment of hesitation saved his life. Something sharp and metallic struck the stone wall in a flash of sparks, just inches from his head. If he had not halted, the power shirakin that lay humming on the flagstone floor would have been buried deep in his skull.
'What the. .'
There were muffled footfalls behind him. He turned stupidly. His reactions were shot. A shadowy figure came at him. There was a high-voltage crackle, and a foot-long lightslicer glowed into dazzling life. The short ribbon of pure energy was more than capable of carving him into paper-thin strips. The figure launched itself. The Minstrel Boy's body responded more readily than his brain. His legs, with a seeming will of their own, gave way under him and he dropped to his knees. That appeared to be the very last thing his attacker expected. The mystery figure had aimed both its feet in a high flying kick that was supposed to hit either his head or his upper body. As it was, the blow only brushed his shoulder. His assailant overshot and collided with the wall. There was a metallic scream and another shower of sparks, and the lightslicer touched stone.
The Minstrel Boy fell awkwardly. His right arm was twisted behind him, but his fingers were all but touching the Colt auto in the waistband of his pants. His hand closed around it. The attacker had quickly recovered. He swung the lightslicer. The Minstrel Boy rolled. There were more sparks as the bright weapon bit into the flagstones where he had just been lying. His gun was out. He did not bother with the lasersight. He pulled the trigger, firing blindly. The roar was deafening in the narrow corridor. There was a scream, and the lightslicer fell to the floor.
The door to the room he had just left flew open, and light spilled out. Reave was in the corridor with a pistol in each hand. 'What's going on out here?'
The Minstrel Boy lowered the Colt. He was shaking all over from the clash of adrenaline and alcohol. 'Don't shoot! It's me. Someone just tried to kill me.'
'Who?'
The Minstrel Boy got to his feet. He put a hand on the wall to steady himself. 'I don't know. The bastard came right out of the darkness. Like a fucking ninja.'
Reave pushed past him. He seemed more interested in the fallen attacker than in whether the Minstrel Boy was hurt. 'There hasn't been a ninja in two thousand years.'
Reave gingerly picked up the lightslicer and held it out at arm's length, using its crackling radiance to illuminate the body. He let out a low whistle. 'You pretty much got the next best thing.'
The Minstrel Boy straightened up. 'What do you mean?'
'What we've got here looks awfully like an urthugee.'
'You're kidding?'
'If he ain't, he got himself a full darksuit, lightsink panels, and the whole bit. The kali-rouge don't give those away with every major purchase.' He bent down and peeled off the face mask. 'He's got the yellow headband and the facial tattoos. It really looks like he was going to do the full and ancient yuga on your ass.'
The Minstrel Boy shook his head. 'I wasted an urthugee? Me?'
'You're quite the stud, boy.'
'This isn't real.'
Reave laughed. 'We know it was really blind luck, but nobody else needs to.'
The Minstrel Boy was not amused. 'What the hell was an urthugee doing coming after me?'
Reave was kneeling over the body. 'That's something you're going to have to think about.'
'I'm well aware of that.'
'And if there are any more where he came from.'
'I wish you hadn't said that.'
Reave was searching the assassin's clothes. The Minstrel Boy looked a little shocked.
'What are you doing? Robbing the corpse?'
Reave slipped a number of small metal objects into his pocket. 'These boys have all kinds of killer trinkets. Things you've never seen before.'
There was the sound of heavy boots coming quickly up the stairs. Reave glanced quickly at the Minstrel Boy. 'Sounds like the local law. Try and look casual.'
The Minstrel Boy shook his head in despair. 'Sure, casual.'
It turned out to be not only the local law but also Diamenti himself with his two lieutenants, Axel and Heet. Ramilles Diamenti might not have actually been as big as God, but he was majestically huge. He stood more than seven feet tall and must have weighed over three hundred pounds. Despite his size, though, he seemed to be possessed by a burning inner energy and was able to move his bulk with surprising agility. He was a presence. His florid cheeks, framed by graying muttonchop side whiskers, told of profound self-indulgence, but his eyes showed a calculating, dynamic intelligence. Even his clothes were larger than life. His purple robe, trimmed with ermine and wolf pelt, was like a tent built for an emperor. The gold chain with its massive sampling cup was like his badge of office, host general in his own kingdom.
His two lieutenants were equally unmistakable. Somewhere along the line Axel had been extensively rebuilt. Over a third of him was crude prosthetics, with servos and circuitry exposed. Heet scarcely looked human — he was totally hairless, and his skin was a bright daffodil yellow. His bare skull was strangely ridged, and his ears were elongated and pointed at the tips.
As Diamenti and his men marched down the corridor, Reave and the Minstrel Boy all but started like small boys caught red-handed at some guilty endeavour. Diamenti's roar could have chilled blood.
'So what do we have here? Been indulging in a little slaying, have we?'
The Minstrel Boy looked Diamenti in the eye and decided that maybe casual was not such a good idea. Even though he was telling the truth, there was something about Diamenti's gaze that made him feel as if he were lying.
'I know it looks bad, but I was only defending myself. He came out of the dark at me.'
'You know the stiff?'
