Free Rebel of Antares by Alan Burt Akers Page A

Nath and Kaldu would break it down in only heartbeats.
    “I have met young ladies who have been trained up at Lancival before. I am honored they count me as a friend. Now do you—”
    She had stopped dead when I used the name of Lancival. Now she broke in, roughly, flourishing her claw. “What do you know of Lancival? How could you know...?”
    “Because I am what I told you I am! It is in my mind I know your father, for you bring someone to my mind. But there is no time for that now. I give you my most solemn oath, as the Invisible Twins made manifest in the light of Opaz are my judge! I am Vallian and dedicated to the Empress Delia.”
    “The Empress Delia! You dare use
her
name—”
    “Stand aside from the men who are breaking the door in. For all your claw — and you have no whip? I see not. For all your razor-talons they will eat you up and spit out the pips. Now I am going down to try to stop honest Vallians from murdering those two poor damned Hamalese down there.” I couldn’t say that I was in agony for the fate of my blade comrades, my friends, Tyfar and Jaezila.
    “I cannot believe you! You must give me more proof!”
    “No time, no time.”
    I had worked us around during this conversation so that the open trapdoor lay at my back. I lifted the rapier in salute. She anticipated an attack and came on guard instantly.” Then she saw what I purported — too late. She tried to get at me before I retired from the scene. Her exertions during the pseudo-fight had broken the latches of her tunic and as it gaped I caught the sheen of black leather beneath. A real she-cat, tiger-girl, this Valona!
    I could not refrain from calling, “You fight well, by Vox. Take your friend the guide and go, for those men breaking the door down will deal harshly with you. Remberee!”
    Then I leaped into the open trapdoor and fell headlong into blackness.

Chapter six
    Froshak the Shine
    The thump of landing was not overly painful. The place was little more than a closet, dark and dank. I kicked out and a wooden panel nearly broke my toe. The square of light over my head remained clear: I half expected Valona to jump down after me. I kicked again at the next wall, more cautiously. A distant crash from above was followed by voices raised intemperately.
    “Where are they?”
    “There goes someone — after them!”
    “Get on, get on! The prince is in danger!”
    I leaned more gently against the third wall and fell all sprawling out into a lighted corridor. I did not want Kaldu and Nath the Shaft and Barkindrar the Bullet with me now. I did not want those three blade comrades, Hamalese, assisting me to slay Vallians.
    The panel revolved and shut. I looked up and down and saw a dead man slumped against the wall. He sat with his head on his chest and his arms lax at his sides. He wore inconspicuous clothes. I did not know him. I hoped he was not a Vallian and guessed he was probably the Hamalese spy Tyfar had come here to see. Valona and her merry men had gotten wind of the meeting, had slain the spy and sent their man as a guide to bring us to the trap. Well, the trap had not yet failed. I ran full speed in the direction pointed by the dead man.
    I wondered how Erndor, whom Valona had sent off after Tyfar, would fare against that puissant prince of Hamal. The guide must have been shaken into sense by Valona and the pair of them run off to a prepared bolt hole as our three comrades burst in. Now, Erndor is a Valkan name, and I am the Lord of Valka. But, equally, as the Strom of Valka I cannot know the face of every Valkan, as everyone of that superlative island cannot know the face of his strom. The likenesses on coins are not reliable guides to recognition. If Erndor and Tyfar clashed, rapier against axe, it would make a pretty fight, a fight that would chill me to the core. I had to prevent that confrontation if I could.
    The corridor ended at a door and I simply bashed it open and roared through. Torches in bracketed sconces