bother her, but this time she was facing two hardened professionals in very
cramped surroundings, with nowhere to retreat and no one to guard her blind
sides. It was at times like this that she realized how much she missed Hawk. She
cut viciously at one mercenary's face, and he stepped back instinctively. Fisher
darted for the gap that opened up, but the other swordsman was already there,
forcing her back with a flurry of blows. Fisher fought on, but she could feel
her chances of getting out alive slipping away like sand between her fingers.
And then one of the mercenaries went down in a flurry of blood, and ap Owen was
standing over him, flashing his lunatic grin. Fisher quickly finished off the
other mercenary, and the two Guards sprinted down the hallway, with more
mercenaries in hot pursuit.
'Where the hell have you been?' demanded Fisher. 'I turned my back on you for a
moment and you were gone!'
'Sorry,' said ap Owen breezily. 'I didn't notice you weren't still with me. Now
save your breath for running. We've got a way to go yet, and those bastards
behind us are getting closer.'
A mercenary appeared out of nowhere before them and ap Owen cut him down with a
single slash. Fisher hurdled the writhing body without slowing, and followed ap
Owen up a winding stairway. Footsteps hammered on the steps behind her, and she
glanced back over her shoulder to see half a dozen mercenaries charging up the
stairs after her. Fisher looked away and forced herself to run faster. She was
already bone-tired after the long day, and her legs felt like lead, but somehow
she forced out a little extra speed. Ap Owen, of course, was running well and
strongly, buoyed up by his battle drug. Sweat ran down Fisher's face, stinging
her eyes, and her sides ached as her lungs protested. She just hoped she
wouldn't get a stitch. That would make it a perfect bloody day.
Ap Owen led her down a wide corridor at a pace she was hard pressed to match,
but somehow she kept up with him. The growing crowd of mercenaries snapping at
her heels helped. It worried her that she hadn't seen any of ap Owen's men.
Surely some of them should have got this far… A growing suspicion took root in
her that they were all dead. That all the house's defenders were dead, apart
from her and ap Owen. Which made it all the more urgent they reach the pocket
dimension and warn the delegates.
Ap Owen darted suddenly sideways through an open doorway, and Fisher threw
herself in after him. She whirled to slam the door shut, but three mercenaries
forced their way in. Fisher cut down one with a single, economical stroke, and
his blood flew on the air, but another swordsman darted in under her reach and
cut at her leg. Her thick leather boot took most of the impact, but she could
still feel blood trickling down her leg inside the boot. She drove the man back
with a frenzied attack, and for a moment held off both opponents by the sheer
fury of her attack.
And then ap Owen was with her, cutting and hacking like a madman, and between
them they finished off the mercenaries, slammed the door shut, and bolted it. It
rattled angrily in its frame as men on the other side put their shoulders to it.
The two Guards stood exhausted over the bodies for a moment, breathing harshly,
and then ap Owen jerked his thumb over his shoulder. 'Let's go. The doorway's
here.'
Fisher looked behind her, and saw an open door hanging unsupported in the air.
Beyond the door there was only darkness. 'About time. I just hope the pocket
dimension turns out to be a damn sight more secure than this house.'
'It is; I guarantee it. Now let's move it, please.'
He grabbed her arm and hauled her through the doorway. The door slammed shut
behind them, and disappeared from the room. There was a brief sensation of
falling, and then Fisher was in the Peace Talks' hidden room. The delegates rose
startled from their seats around a long table, staring at her and ap Owen. She
quickly put up a hand to forestall their questions.
'The house is overrun with mercenaries. We had to cut and run. No choice. How
many more of our people made it here?' She took in their blank faces, and looked
away. 'Damn. Then I think it's fair to assume they won't be coming. We're the
only survivors.'
She looked quickly round the sparsely furnished, medium-sized room, and then
blinked as she found there was no sign of the doorway. All four walls were
blank. She shrugged, and looked at ap Owen, who was sitting on the floor beside
her with his head hanging down. He was deathly pale, with sweat streaming off
his face, and obviously using all his willpower to keep from vomiting. Fisher
smiled sourly. That was battle drugs for you. Great as long as adrenalin kept
you going, but once you stopped there was hell to pay. She manhandled him onto a
chair, and then turned back to the delegates. They were obviously waiting for a
more detailed report, and it was clear from their faces that their patience had
just about run out. Really, the report should come from ap Owen, as the senior
Captain in charge of security, but since he was out of it and likely to stay
that way for some time… Fisher realized she was still holding her sword, and
sheathed it. She drew herself up to parade rest, thought briefly about saluting
the delegates, and then decided the hell with it.
'We're in trouble,' she said bluntly. 'Someone hired a small army of
mercenaries, backed them up with some heavy-duty sorcery, and sent them here
looking for you. Our security forces didn't stand a chance; the mercenaries
rolled right over us. Unless some more of our people arrive in the next few
minutes, you'd better get used to the idea that your entire security force now
consists of ap Owen and me. And there aren't going to be any reinforcements.
We're trapped in here, and the house is crawling with mercenaries.'
'It's not quite as bad as you make it sound, Captain,' said Lord Regis calmly.
'Firstly, we are quite safe here. The dimensional doorways won't open to the
mercenaries, and the only other way in is to open a new doorway. Even a
high-level sorcerer couldn't do that without first knowing the exact coordinates
of this dimension, and those are, of course, only known to a select few. All we
have to do is sit tight and wait for the mercenaries to leave. They won't hang
around once they realize we're not in the house; an attack like this is bound to
have been noticed, especially in Low Tory. I think we can be fairly confident
that the Guard is on its way here even as we speak.'
'Wait a minute,' said Fisher. 'How will we know when it's safe to leave?'
Lord Regis shrugged. 'We'll just stick our heads out from time to time, and see
what's happening.'
Ap Owen chuckled harshly. 'He means you and I will stick our heads out, Fisher.
They're not going to take any risks. Right, my lord?'
'Of course,' said Lord Regis. 'That is what you're here for, isn't it?'
Fisher looked at ap Owen. His face was still pale, but he was sitting up
straight and he looked a lot more composed. 'How are you feeling?'
'Great. The side effects don't last long.'
