Prince Fianor did as he was asked, disappearing down the hall. Akeela tried to relax, sure that he had bought himself some time.
'General Nace," he said cordially, "would you mind giving up your seat for the signing? I should be next to King Mor, I think."
The general was about to sit down but stopped himself. He gave Akeela a peculiar look, then glanced at his king.
'It's tradition, Nace," said Mor. "Sit at the other end, will you? Let King Akeela have your chair."
Akeela thanked the general and took the seat to Mor's right. This close to Mor, he could smell the oldman's breath and the odor of his cat, still perched lazily in his lap. Breck remained standing. Knowing that he needed to stall for time, Akeela leapt on the first idea that came to mind.
'Great Fate, I'm starving," he said. "And look at all this food! Shall we break our fast together, my lord?"
quickly explained to them about the treaty, and how they were to witness its signing.
'Yes, the signing," Mor insisted. Again he held out the pen for Akeela. "Or are you changing your mind, my lord?"
'No," said Akeela. He wanted to stall further, but couldn't think of another ruse. Just as he reached for the pen, his salvation came.
'My lords!" cried a voice. "Soldiers!"
Akeela moved like lightning. While Mor sat up, confused by the call, he dashed his hand beneath his cape and freed his waiting dagger. Breck and the three Chargers did the same. Akeela exploded out of his chair, took a handful of Mor's shirt, and put the dagger to his throat.
'Don't you bloody move!" he ordered. "Or I sweat I'll cut your throat."
Breck had his own blade at Fianor's throat. A panicked page boy stumbled into the chamber, crying that soldiers were approaching. Outside the chamber, men were shouting amid sounds of struggle.
General Nace and his men stood still as stone, unsure of what was happening.
'Get out of the chair!" Akeela roared, pulling Mor from his seat.
'What is this?" Mor sputtered.
'Shut up and listen," said Akeela. Quickly he maneuvered himself behind the gasping man, wrapping an arm about his throat and keeping the dagger to his cheek. "Do as I say, you stinking toad, or you're a dead man."
'Let him go!" barked Nace, even as the Chargers held him, too. All three of Mor's men were subdued, as was Fianor. The prince fought violently against Breck.
'You cowardly scum!" gurgled Fianor. "What are thinking? You can't get out of here!"
'Quiet!" snapped Breck, pressing hard against Fianor's throat.
'Release us!" the prince wailed Breck dragged him roughly around, faced him against the wall, and drove his head into the hard stone. Akeela heard the crack of his skull, then watched him slump slowly to the floor, 'Certainly, my friend," said Mor. Then he took the pen from the inkwell. "But let's eat after we take care of business, hmm?"
Akeela reached across the table for a loaf of bread. "Well, my witnesses aren't here yet, so we have some time." He held the loaf out for Mor. "Bread, my lord?"
Mor shook his head. "No."
'Well, I hope you don't mind if I help myself." Akeela tore off a great hunk of bread and stuffed it into his mouth. Seeing a servant in the corner, he said, "You there. Pour some wine for me, will you? I'm as dry as the Desert of Tears! Breck, sit down and eat. We've a long ride ahead of us."
'King Akeela," said Mor, "don't you even want to read the treaty?"
'Ah, yes, of course," said Akeela. As the servant filled his glass, he pulled the paper closer to him.
"Yes, have to read this carefully indeed."
'As I said, it's not complicated."
'No, no, you're right, my lord. Let me read this carefully. Don't want to sell my country into slavery, now do I?"
Mor sat back impatiently. "No, of course not."
With both eyes on the treaty, Akeela pretended to read. As he did he snuck a peripheral glance at the chamber's only window. The stained glass began to lighten, warning him. Soon he would get his signal.
He quelled his growing nervousness by draining his glass.
'Yes, well, this looks fine, mostly," he said. "But we'll have to work out a payment schedule, to make sure Luria isn't cheated. The treaty should address that, I think. Perhaps I could leave a man or two behind to account for the ships that pass?"
'Cheated?" The word made Mor bristle. "Why would you say such a thing? Norvor only wants whatit deserves."
'Oh, I'm sure you're correct, my lord," said Akeela. "Still, a strict accounting is necessary. Do you think you could have some changes made before I sign it?"
'Changes? No, King Akeela, I don't think so. I-"
Before Mor could finish, Fianor returned with three of Akee-la's men. The Royal Chargers greeted their king, then bowed to King Mor. They were, as Mor had insisted, without swords. Breck Mor was panting in fright, unable to answer. "Well, watch then," said Breck, and quickly ran his blade over Nace's throat, slicing it open. The general's eyes widened as blood poured down his chest. The Charger holding him let go, and Nace hovered in shock for a moment before falling in a gurgling pile to his knees. Stunned by the murder, Akeela almost dropped his dagger. Before Nace was dead, Breck rushed to Mor and put his own blade to the king's throat. "Believe me now?" he asked. Mor erupted into cries. "Great Fate, don't kill me!" "Are you going to open the gate?"
'Yes!"
Breck looked at Akeela, instantly in charge. "Get him out of here." He whirled on the rest of his men.
"Get their weapons and come with us."
The Chargers took the swords from their captives, then lowered their daggers and hurried toward Breck. The terrified page went to the Norvans, who all stood in shocked disbelief.
'Follow us and the old man dies," Breck promised them. His men were armed now, and having Mor as a hostage buoyed his confidence. With only his dagger in hand, he said to Akeela, "All right, let's move. Slow and easy, my lord. They'll let you pass once they see you have Mor."
Akeela barely heard Breck's orders. Still riveted by Nace's corpse, he stood like a cold statue near the door.
'My lord, what's wrong with you?" shouted Breck. "Get going!"
Collecting himself, Akeela fixed his dagger beneath Mor's chin and inched to the door. He began to perspire and shake, but he kept his blade against his frightened captive and stepped out into the hall. The fortress rang with sounds of battle, the screams of men and clashing steel. Breck and the others formed a ring around Akeela as they slowly crept out of the room. Breck took the lead, waving frantically when he saw his men up ahead, battling their way into the fortress.
'Randa!" he called. "Randa, Hanas, here!"
When the two soldiers saw Breck and Akeela, they shouted at their Norvan opponents. "Look there!
Your king is captured!" leaving a smudgy trail of blood down the bricks. Mor writhed in Akeela's grasp, crying out for his son. Breck turned like a wildcat on Nace and his men.
'Still don't believe us?" he hissed, brandishing his dagger.
Mor's fingernails tore at Akeela's arm. "You won't get out of here! You won't escape!"
Akeela pushed the blade against Mor's cheek so that the old man wailed. "We will, and you're coming with us." He barked at the page, "Get in here!"
The boy stepped into the room. He looked at his king helplessly, then back into the hall where the commotion was rising.
'How many men are approaching?" Akeela asked.
The page barely stammered a response. "I... don't know. Maybe a thousand..."
Satisfied, Akeela dragged Mor toward the door. "Now listen to me, General Nace. We're going to leave here, slowly and in order. I promise you, nothing is going to happen to Mor unless you disobey me."
'I don't take orders from you!" Nace spat. With the blade of a Charger still at his throat, he laughed defiantly. "Go ahead and kill us. You'll never get out of here."
'No?" Akeela tightened his arm about Mor's thin neck. The tension in the chamber had overcome him, drowning him in a flash of madness. "Is that what you want, you greedy old reptile? You want to die?"
Again he pricked Mor's cheek with the dagger.
'Stop!" wailed Mor.
'Who's the coward now, eh?" Akeela asked, jerking him backward. "You dirty bastard. I should kill you for what you did to me!" 'My lord, stop!" ordered Breck. "We have to get the gate open!"
Still breathing hard, barely able to think, Akeela glanced at General Nace. "You heard him, General.
You're going to order the gate open, understand?"
'Never!"
Breck cursed, took hold of Nace's hairy head, and put his dagger to his throat. "Mor, do you think we're bluffing you? Do you think we actually won't hurt you?"
The Norvans continued pouring against the Chargers. Akeela knew he had to act fast.
'Lower your weapons!" he cried. "Or your king dies!"
One by one the Norvans noticed their captured king. Slowly the combat ebbed. Randa, Hanas, and the other Chargers fell back, joining Akeela. Mor continued sputtering, blood trickling down his slashed cheek.
'Stop!" he gurgled. "They'll kill me!"
'Open the gate," Akeela ordered them. "Now!"
The Norvans simply stared. More of them entered the hall, ready to fight, but their brothers held them back, gesturing to the king.
'My lord," called one of them. "Are you all right?"
'Do I look all right, you idiot?" spat Mor. "Open the gate!"
'But my lord, there are soldiers coming!"
'Open the gate and surrender," Breck ordered, "Or Mor dies."
'Surrender?" gasped the Norvan. "My lord?"
'Seven hells, Virez, they've already killed Nace. Just do as they say!"
The soldier stood in mute shock, then reluctantly ordered his men to open the gate. Relieved, Akeela started forward again, protected now by a wall of Chargers. Virez and his men slowly parted as they approached, careful not to imperil their king.
'The gate's being opened," Virez said. "Now let him go."
'When we reach the gate he'll be released," countered Breck. "Not before."
King Mor let Akeela guide him through the hall, clumsily keeping step with him. His breath came in nervous rasps. "Akeela, you won't get away with this, you vile little snake. You'll pay for what you did to Nace. And my son!"
'Quiet," said Akeela, "or I'll kill you."
Remarkably, Mor began laughing. "You won't kill me. You're a coward! You'll have your dog soldiers do it for you!"
Akeela tried not to listen, concentrating instead on reaching the courtyard. At last they came to the double doors of the fortress, both open wide and letting in the morning sunlight. Akeela could hear the calls of his men outside the fortress gates, and the thought that Hogon was near eased his fear. The yard itself was full of Norvan soldiers, but none moved against Akeela and his band. Akeela spied the gate in the distance and saw that Mor's orders were indeed being heeded. A handful of men were opening the great gates. And beyond the gates, sitting triumphantly upon his horse with a broadsword in hand, was Hogon. The chancellor looked harried and proud, and when he saw Akeela emerge from the keep a disbelieving smile lit his face. Beside him was Raxor, stunning in his black armor, an army of his fellow Reecians at his back. Breck, who had taken a sword from one of the Norvans, waved the weapon at Hogon. A rush of exhilaration passed through Akeela. Like Hogon, he couldn't believe he'd actually succeeded. His thoughts were suddenly of Lukien, and how impressed he'd be when he learned of this day.
As Akeela moved toward the gate, Hogon and his men began entering the huge courtyard. The feeling of victory overswept Akeela. But only for a moment. Mor began squirming angrily in his grasp, staring at the gate and rasping hatefully.
'Reecians?" he growled. "Reecians!" He exploded, thrashing wildly to escape Akeela. "No Reecians will ever take my fortress! Never!"
Akeela struggled to control the old man, but Mor's sudden anger gave the old man strength. He kicked at Akeela and elbowed him, fighting to get free. As Akeela hurried him toward the gate, Morbegan screaming at his men, "Virez, it's Reecian scum! Stop them!"
Breck shouted, "King Akeela, shut him up!"
'I'm trying!"
'Virez! Attack!"
'Akeela!"
Panicked, Akeela looked toward Virez and knew that he could hear his king. The soldier lifted his gaze toward the gate and realized that Reecians rode with the Lurians.
'Virez!" Mor cried. "Fight them!"
'Quiet!" Akeela pleaded. "We're almost free!"
But Mor would not be silent. With Akeela's dagger still at his chin, he continued to call for attack, screaming against his strangled throat for his men to fight. Breck was screaming too, shouting for Akeela to silence their captive. Akeela looked Hanging Man could muster only a clumsy defense. They had been caught unaware by Akeela's deception, and with the gate of their fortress open like a wound, it didn't take long for their enemies to overwhelm them. What might have been a long, bloody siege lasted only hours, as the determined Norvans barricaded themselves in the many structures of the fortress, refusing to surrender to their long-time foes. Raxor, eager to avenge the many wrongs Mor had done his people, saw no reason to give quarter. He was as merciless as he'd been in his battles against Luria, and he relished the fight Akeela had brought him, cherishing it like a long-anticipated gift. Prince Fianor awoke just in time to join the battle, but didn't survive long. The blow to his skull made him sluggish with his sword, and he died shortly after he awoke, run through by a Reecian spear. Hogon and Breck and the other Lurians joined the bloodletting without reluctance, for they were soldiers and believed in the righteousness of war.
Akeela had run far from the fortress, but not far enough to drown out the screams of the dying men.
He had run until his lungs burned and his legs turned to water, and when he could run no longer he collapsed on a hillside overlooking Hanging Man. For hours he lay there, still covered in Mor's blood, which would not come off no matter how hard he rubbed. He wept at the ruins of his plan and watched the men battle for the fortress with the detachment of a dream, his eyes blurry with tears. Finally, when the battle was over and the afternoon sun was high overhead, he saw Hogon and Raxor emerge from the iron gates. A train of defeated Norvans streamed out of the courtyard. Without food or horses or weapons, they began the dismal trek into the interior of Norvor. Akeela knew the wounded among them would die on the way, because Hanging Man was remote and Norvor was rugged. Yet he didn't seem to care that more men would die, and he puzzled over his lack of sympathy. Not long after, he heard Breck calling his name. He did not answer, but Breck discovered him anyway, sitting alone among the rocks of the hillside. Akeela had his arms wrapped about his knees.
'My lord?" Breck asked warily.
Akeela said nothing. His eyes blinked lifelessly.
around impotently, wondering what to do. To one side was Hogon and his army, struggling through the gate. To the other side was Virez, finally comprehending his king's cries. There was no time to waste.
Akeela panicked. Mor was bellowing, ordering their deaths. Akeela's tenuous control snapped.