The door would not hold forever, and when the guards broke through they could fill the room, attacking from all sides. Relam needed a more confined space if he was going to make a stand. He had no idea where in the Citadel he was, or which direction he had to go to get back to the courtyard.
The door shook on its hinges again as a body slammed into it. Relam backed away and turned around, looking for an escape. He could go up, but that only led to the roof of the tower, where he would be trapped. Finally, Relam’s gaze settled on a door, opposite the one he had come through. He wondered where it led, guessing that it probably opened onto another battlemented walkway like the one he had just vacated. That would be as good a place as any to make a stand.
Relam slipped quietly through the door, closing it quickly behind him, breathing a sigh of relief. With any luck, the guards pursuing him would think he had gone down to ground level to escape. Now all he had to do was wait for an opportunity to sneak back through and help Oreius.
The young prince turned around, grinning, and started to lower his sword. Then the grin slid from his face as he saw four Citadel guards manning the battlements, advancing slowly towards him.
Chapter 42
“Stand down,” Relam said, wishing his voice wouldn’t shake in moments such as this. “In the name of your king!”
The Citadel guards paused, looked at one another, and then started advancing again.
Relam sighed heavily. “It was worth a shot,” he muttered. Then, he ran straight at the four men, knowing that the only way ahead was to move forward. He knew what he had left behind him and he was not going back there.
The guards were spread out, with about three meters separation between each man. Relam ducked the first man’s side cut, then jabbed the point of his sword at his legs. The soldier sidestepped awkwardly and swung his shield in a short horizontal arc, catching Relam on the shoulder and sending him stumbling.
The prince winced, rolling his shoulder a few times to work out the soreness. Then, he straightened and flowed into one of Oreius’ attack patterns, cutting and thrusting and slashing, always staying in control, keeping his feet in perfect time with his sword arm, delivering the maximum power with every blow. The Citadel guard’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in a focused glare as Relam pressed the attack, spinning and hacking. Finally, Relam followed up a thrust with a swipe from his shield, knocking the guard’s sword aside, and ran the man through.
The guard crumpled to the stone walkway, gasping in pain, and Relam vaulted over the body to face the next enemy. He did not pause to size up his opponent or otherwise disrupt the flow of the battle. He simply went right back to attacking, driving the surprised guard back into his fellow soldiers. The second guard fell quicker than the first, but then Relam found himself facing the last two foes simultaneously.
The prince turned and put his back to the battlements so that he couldn’t be outflanked. The only problem was, he now had no room to give ground. Every blow had to be parried and deflected, and he was facing two professional warriors, men chosen specifically for their skill with a sword.
Relam parried desperately with his sword and blocked other strokes with his borrowed shield, slanting it in hopes that the lack of resistance would knock one of his opponents off balance. All the while, Relam searched for an opening, hoping there would be a gap he could take advantage of with a quick thrust. But no such openings appeared, and Relam was tiring quickly. He’d fought in several short battles, while his opponents were relatively fresh and far more experienced.
“Hey! Hello up there!”
Relam ducked a swipe from the guard on his left and chanced a glance over his shoulder. Below him was the main gate to the Citadel, and the River Road. And two familiar figures, peering upwards, their mouths slightly open.
“Tar!” Relam shouted. “I’m a little busy at the moment.” He deflected a thrust from the other guard and shoved back with his shield, trying to gain some space to maneuver. But the first guard closed in again before Relam could take advantage.
“What’s going on?” he heard Yavvis shout from the ground. “We heard fighting!”
“And you’re going to keep hearing fighting,” Relam shouted back. “The Citadel has betrayed the kingdom. Oreius-” Relam broke off to execute a particularly complicated defense, then kept talking. “Oreius is fighting D’Arnlo right now!”
“D’Arnlo!” Agath shouted. “Any chance you can get us in to help?”
“Not unless you have a rope.”
“We’ll get one,” Yavvis promised. “Just hold on a little longer.”
“Great,” Relam muttered. He glanced at his opponents. “You would be fine with taking a break for a minute or two, wouldn’t you? My arms are killing me.”
“Sorry,” one guard grunted. “I’d rather finish this before the sword masters return.”
“Me too,” the other agreed. “You can’t stop D’Arnlo now, boy. He’s too powerful. And when we bring him your head, we will be rewarded.”
“Tell you what, you bring me D’Arnlo’s head, and I’ll reward you,” Relam replied, gasping for breath.
“Not good enough.”
“I’ll extra reward you?” Relam offered.
“Not a chance.”
“In that case-”
Relam broke off as a three-pronged grapnel soared past his head and landed with a clank on the stone walkway. Someone below hauled in on the rope trailing from it and the grapnel slid, then came up against the wall and held.
The young prince straddled the rope, trying to keep the guards from cutting it, and poured everything he had into defending from their questing
