of robes?' He waited, listening, then looked again at Kollar. 'You see, he didn't object.'
'But-'
'Get them!' Dumarest looked at the injured men then at Angado. 'Violence,' he said bleakly. 'It's everywhere. The strong bearing down on the weak with demands and threats. Scum like Gengiz or some puffed up lordling or a faceless bureaucrat all issuing their orders. Pay or be punished. Obey or suffer fines, imprisonment, execution. Well, to hell with them. There's only one way they can be stopped.' He looked at the robes Kollar had fetched. 'Good. Now, Brother, go outside and bring in those clubs.'
* * *
As Dumarest had expected the clubs were weighted with lead. Long, slender wands with the vicious capacity to shatter a skull or snap a bone. He hefted one, sent it whining through the air, lifted it in a curve, sent it darting forward to halt an inch from Angado's chest.
'Fast,' he said. 'See?'
'What are you trying to tell me?'
'When you decide to act don't hesitate. That's the mistake you made out there. Don't waste time in talk. Attack, do it fast and don't be gentle. A hurt man can hit back, a dead one can't. Now hit me with your club.' Dumarest shook his head as Angado lifted the weapon, his own reaching out to jab hard against the other's chest. 'Not like that. It leaves you too open. Thrust as I did.'
Angado was slow. Dumarest swept aside the club and jabbed again. The next attack was faster, the club circling to avoid the parry. Dumarest knocked it far to the opposite side, jabbed, stood waiting.
'Earl, I-'
'Don't talk! Act! Kill me before I kill you! Move, damn you! Move!'
Hard practice within the body of the church, sweating inside the hampering robes, learning how to compensate for the heavy material. As they moved the axe fell from Angado's belt, Dumarest picking it up and thrusting it beneath his robe. Finally he called a halt.
'That's enough. We'll rest for a while.'
'Do you think I've improved?'
'You're better.' Angado was still slow but had lost his initial hesitation. Dumarest said, 'You killed a man tonight. Was he your first?'
'There was another. We had an argument and he came for me. It was an accident, really, he had a gun and I grabbed at it and it went off and shot him in the chest. A laser. The stink of burned flesh stuck in my nose for days.' Angado paused then said, 'I suppose you find killing easy.'
'No,' said Dumarest. 'It's never that.'
'But you intend to kill again.'
'You've left me no choice-I told you why. Gengiz has to dispose of us as a matter of pride. He's got a good thing going here and others know it. Once he shows weakness they'll try to take over. So we have to go. As we can't avoid it we have to meet it. Pick our own time and place.'
'But why the robes?'
Dumarest shrugged, 'It gives us an edge-who's afraid of a monk?'
They rested, dozing, waiting for the dawn. The best time to attack when the guards would be sleepy and Gengiz unaware. In the infirmary Brother Kollar kept vigil over the sick, two of the other monks sleeping, the third standing awake in case of need. Dumarest started fully alert as a hand touched his shoulder. In the dim light he saw the strained face of Brother Galpin.
'Something is wrong,' whispered the monk. 'There are people outside.'
'Suppliants?'
'No. I think they intend to rob us.'
Thieves working under Gengiz or others eager to seize an opportunity. The dead thugs, untouched where they lay, no longer served to keep the vultures at bay.
Dumarest rose, stretched, looked at the translucent roof of the church. The stars, paling, had left a blurred glow and he sensed it must be close to dawn. Others knew the best time to attack.
They could be heard working at the wall to one side. A rasp of metal against the stubborn plastic the sound like the ugly grating of teeth. Dumarest crossed to it, knelt, listened, looked to the other side.
Angado said, 'Wouldn't they break directly into the storeroom?'
'If they knew just where it was,' agreed Dumarest. 'Or if that's all they wanted.'
'You think they're after us?'
'Gengiz knows we're in here. We killed his men. Now he has the chance to kill us and wreck the church at the same time. If monks die we'll be blamed. Either way he can't lose.'
'The church eliminated and used us as an example of what happens if anyone steps out of line.' Angado drew in his breath. 'We shouldn't be here, Earl. Nor wearing these robes. The monks don't deserve this.'
'If you're tired of life just strip and walk outside.' Dumarest was curt. 'If you're not just shut up and listen.'
The grating had grown louder, a sound impossible to miss and one sure to attract attention. Dumarest moved to the far wall where, dimly, he could see the vague outline of shadows.
'Here,' he whispered to Angado. 'They're coming through here. Remember what I told you.'
'Are you going to attack without warning?'
'I thought you'd learned.'
'Sorry. I wasn't thinking.'
'Don't think,' advised Dumarest. 'Just act. Hit hard and fast.' He shifted the grip on his club. 'Here they come!'
The wall opened like a flower, petals of plastic parting to reveal a cluster of shapes, men who ran forward, metal glinting in their hands.
The first went down, choking, vomiting from savage thrusts to throat and stomach. Others followed them as the clubs whined through the air to land on shoulders, backs, skulls. Victims of a ferocious and totally unexpected defense. Monks did not fight, yet monks seemed to be everywhere; in the dark interior of the church only the robed figures could be seen.
Calm followed the violence, a period that Dumarest knew would be followed by a more calculated attack. One which, surprise now lost, would give numbers the advantage.
He blinked as a vivid beam of light streamed from outside to illuminate the scene.
It came from where Gengiz stood at a distance from the structure, a powerful flashlight in one hand, a laser in the other. The pale light of dawn gave him a somber appearance, accentuated by his scowl and the weapon in his hand.
He fired as Dumarest watched, the beam searing plastic, burning a hole high and to one side.
'Drop those clubs!' The laser fired again adding a second hole to the first. 'Drop them, I say!'
Again the laser vented its energy, closer this time, and Angado grunted as he slapped at the smoke rising from the edge of his robe.
'Your last warning! Drop those clubs!'
'Earl?'
'Do it!'
His own club followed Angado's to the floor, his eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. The attackers had dropped at the signal of the firing, hugging the ground to give Gengiz an open field. The man himself stood too far away to be reached by a thrown knife even if the blade could travel fast enough to beat the speed of his finger. The clubs were gone.
'Raise your hands,' said Dumarest quietly. 'Walk toward Gengiz. Stumble a little as if you're hurt. Beg if you want but do what he tells you.'
Angado threw him a glance then obeyed. He was a good actor. Dumarest followed him, stooped, one leg dragging, a hand clutching his chest.
'Please!' Angado turned his raised hands palms outward, the fingers spread to demonstrate his defenselessness. 'Don't hurt me. I had nothing to do with this. Look, I've got money, I'll pay-'
