Free Thinblade by David Wells Page B

secret?”
    Jack smiled again, this time with a hint of puzzlement. “That I do not know. I suspect the General Commander of the Reishi Protectorate saw no point in killing you until it became clear that Phane would wake. From what I know of the man, he appears to value life and only kills when necessary. Of course, that is only speculation on my part. He may have only recently become aware of your lineage.”
    Abigail nodded in thought but before she could speak again, Anatoly motioned for silence. Everyone stood as one at the sound of several sets of heavy boots coming up the stairs. Anatoly motioned for them to grab their gear. It sounded like half a dozen men were gathering outside their door.
    Everyone in the room jumped when a heavy hammer smashed into the door. The frame cracked and the wood around the bolt gave way, sending splinters flying into the room, but the bar across the door held.
    Anatoly took up his war axe, Abigail nocked an arrow, and Lucky went to the window to see if they could get out that way.
    Alexander acted without hesitation. He stood, swept his chair aside with one hand and drew his long sword with the other. Before the heavy hammer could crash into the door again, Alexander took a long step and drove his sword through a newly formed crack in the door. A man screamed. Alexander hoped it was the man with the hammer but it wasn’t. When he drew his sword back, the hammer fell again. This time it struck higher, at the level of the bar.
    The door held, but only just. Alexander knew it wouldn’t withstand another blow like that. They were about to be in a pitched battle with a superior force and he felt surprisingly calm, almost like he was watching the scene unfold on a stage.
    Anatoly tipped the long table up to provide some cover. Alexander found himself between it and the quickly failing door, so he vaulted over it just before the door burst from the force of another hammer blow. The bar shattered and the broken door swung wide and slammed into the wall, revealing a cluster of armed and armored men in the hall poised to rush the room.
    The first man through the door fell back with an arrow sticking out of his breastplate. Abigail stood, feet planted, face set in stone as she drew a second arrow from her quiver.
    “Grab the table and push!” Anatoly commanded.
    Alexander and Jack took hold of the table and helped Anatoly use it like a cross between a battering ram and a shield wall to drive the next man back and block the door at the same time. Another arrow whizzed past them and buried itself in the shoulder of another enemy.
    Lucky came up behind them just as they heard a whoosh followed by the shattering of glass. A wave of heat and the bright orange glow of fire rose up behind them. The wall facing out onto the street was ablaze.
    “Rangle is hurling fire at the windows to make sure we can’t get out that way,” Lucky reported.
    They were trapped.
    Abigail loosed another arrow but it glanced off a shield.
    Jack Colton was surprisingly calm in the midst of the sudden violence. He was squatted down low, lending his weight to the table to keep it in place blocking the door. “I don’t suppose there’s another way out of here?” he asked no one in particular in the most nonchalant sort of way, almost like he was asking if someone could please pass the butter.
    Lucky actually chuckled, “I believe I might be able to help with that. Anatoly, where’s your rope?”
    The big man-at-arms motioned toward his pack on the couch, then took a swipe with his axe at an arm that had the poor judgment to come over the table.
    The heavy hammer slammed into the table and drove it back about a foot, just enough for a man to slip between the table and the wall only to be pinned there as the three pushed back. Another hit with the hammer and he’d be in the room. The enemy had a couple of heavy shields held high to protect against Abigail and her bow. She stood, arrow nocked, waiting for a clear