 |
|
Preview
Large, razor-sharp bolts from crossbows suddenly impaled the two soldiers to the frame on either side of the heavy, ornately carved door they were guarding. Ten warriors, half again as tall as most men, rushed forward. Two of them stood in front of the portal and aimed their crossbows at it. A third, muscles bulging, pushed the great door open as if it weighed little, and ducked to the floor as his companions behind him loosed their arrows. Two more guards, even as they rushed forward from beside a wooden table in the inner room, were slain.
An older, gray-haired man, seated at the table covered with scrolls and baked clay tablets, glanced briefly at the bodies lying on the floor on either side of him. As he slowly rose he looked up at the huge soldiers, each armed with a long sword and crossbow, standing before him. "I am Cephar," the old one stated matter-of-factly. "I have been expecting you."
The crossbowmen who had killed the guards in the room retrieved their bolts from their victims' bodies. Two others did likewise with the first sentries who were still pinned grotesquely to the outer doorframe, and then dragged their corpses into the chamber.
"Quickly!" Cephar motioned to them to close the door.
Each warrior was clad in a rough leather vest and breeches, and his shaved head was protected by a tight fitting leather skullcap that extended from above the forehead to the back of the neck. A short, pointed beard adorned the chin of each of them.
"I am Uwl, First Warrior of the High Mellek," responded the leader of the giants brusquely, as he stepped forward. His coarse, stern visage was rarely if ever softened by a smile; scars gave mute evidence of past battles. He removed his skullcap, emblazoned with two fierce eyes painted on the leather just above the temples, and wiped sweat from the top of his head. Carefully he scrutinized the room. Rich, reddish panels covered the walls, and the strong smell of cedar scented the air. Two massive, stone columns supported the high ceiling. From each of the four walls protruded a white, glowing globe that provided light. The room was otherwise unadorned but for the heavy, intricately carved table and chair that Cephar had used.
"Well?" Cephar was growing impatient.
"The information you gave my lord has led us here. Hmph. Only a Sethite would choose to work in a hole two levels below the ground," snorted Uwl as he replaced his head cover. He rubbed his hand over the ornate carvings on the edge of the table. "You lowly, weak people take great pride in exhibiting your wealth, even down here. Your betters know that there are other matters of greater importance." Suddenly, he struck the tabletop with his fist. "Where are the tablets?"
|
| |
|
