Sung in Blood

Free Sung in Blood by Glen Cook

Book: Sung in Blood by Glen Cook Read Free Book Online
Authors: Glen Cook
Tags: Fiction, Science-Fiction, Fantasy
of both Emerald's and Shai Khe's races, they decided to contact Rider.
    But their persistent presence over several days had betrayed them.
    The attack was sudden and bold, initiated by a seaman who stepped into their path and shouted,
    "At last my brother's daughter's honor will be avenged!" Another half dozen seamen joined him, a wild, scruffy gang of cutthroats.
    Spud and Soup were not fooled. The easterner pointed a finger, declared, "You have the wrong men, friend."
    The sailor collapsed.
    Spud pointed at another man. He went down too.
    Blades came out. A howl went up. More sailors materialized.
    Soup, meantime, dipped a hand into his pocket and crushed a crystal. That sent a screaming shock through the web. Then he activated an amulet which Rider could track. Then he scattered fistfuls of what looked like gold coins.
    Attackers and onlookers alike dived for the money.
    Spud dropped another two men with his pointed finger, ducked inside a clumsy cutlass, buried a fist in a fat belly.
    Soup's coins started an independent brawl. Then they exploded in the hands or pockets of those who had seized them.
    Spud pushed away from the man he had punched. "Let's get out of here!" he yelled.
    In the confusion that was not difficult. But ...
    Soup laughed. "The idiots! Hoist by their own greed!"
    "Oh-oh," Spud said.
    "Yeah."
    They had slipped into a breezeway to make their getaway. Their path, suddenly, was blocked by men of Emerald's ilk.
    Retreat, too, vanished.
    Tough-looking orientals had appeared behind them.
    "The coin trick won't work this time."
    "I didn't reload my spring gun."
    "Been nice knowing you. Take it out on the gnarly guys?"
    "Let's get them."
    Preacher and Greystone had been butting their heads against a stone wall. There was no Polybos House within fifty miles of Shasesserre, at least on record. They were with Rider, plotting a new strategy, when the web relayed Soup's trouble cry.
    "Ask around the merchants' taverns," Rider said, and loped out. A minute later he passed out the Citadel gate in a racing chariot, sounding a warning trumpet. Though the way was longer, he took the Via Triumpha, which by law was closed to wheeled vehicles. Because there was no commerce there, few pedestrians were about.
    The Via's prime function was as a processional for military holidays, and for the celebration of major victories.
    Rider swung off the Via Triumpha a quarter mile from where his men had found trouble. During his mad flight he had acquired an escort of City Guards, who had recognized him and were carrying warning ahead. They made passage through the waterfront district much easier.
    So quick was Rider to reach the scene that the crowd had not yet dispersed. A dozen people lay unconscious, not yet carried off by comrades. "Collect these and deliver them to the Citadel,"
    Rider told his escort. He left his chariot and set off after the moving disturbance the web noted as the location of his men.
    He found the back-up ambush. There were signs of a vigorous fight, and spilled blood. Had Soup and Spud been slain, their bodies carried off with those of their enemies?
    His heart sank. Shai Khe was a relentless and merciless opponent.
    He allowed his wizard's senses to extend. This was a good time and place to jump someone tracking the missing men.
    They were there, just ahead in the breezeway, hidden beneath trash and inside shadows. There were eight of them. They had several mystical devices that would have been potent had they taken Rider unaware. They were growing impatient.
    Rider produced a deck of plaques the size of tarot cards. He shuffled out the one he wanted.
    It portrayed a man asleep, dreaming hideous devils. The devils were about to seize and drag him through a fiery gap in a background wall. There were graven words around the plaque's margin.
    Rider read them aloud.
    As he spoke each word, it disappeared. After he spoke the last, the picture itself faded. The plaque crumbled into dust which dribbled between his

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