“Time to move, Royce,” Hadrian said, casting off his helm. The standard-issue sword of the castle guard felt heavy and awkward in his grip.
Royce removed his helm as well as he moved past the dwarf, running quickly down the hall.
“Stop him, you fool!” Braga ordered the dwarf, but he was too slow to react. The thief was already far down the hall and the small dwarf ran after him. Braga drew his own sword and turned his attention to Hadrian.
“Do you know who I am? I know we met in the dungeon recently when you were hanging in chains, but are you aware of my reputation? I’m Archduke Percy Braga, Lord Chancellor of Melengar and, more importantly, the winner of the title of Grand Circuit Tournament Swords Master for the last five years in a row. Do you have any titles? Any ribbons won? Any awards bestowed? Are there trophies shelved for your handling of a sword? I have bested the best in Avryn, even the famous Pickering and his magic rapier.”
“The way I heard it, he didn’t have his sword the day you two dueled.”
Braga laughed. “That sword story is just that—a legend. He uses it as an excuse to account for his losses or when he is afraid of an opponent. His sword is just a common rapier with a fancy hilt.”
Braga moved in and swiped at Hadrian in a savagely fast attack that drove him backward. He struck again and Hadrian had to leap backward to avoid being slashed across the chest.
“You’re fast. That’s good. It’ll make this more interesting. You see, Mr. Thief, I’m sure you have the situation all wrong. You may be under the impression that you are holding me at bay while your friend races to rescue the damsel in distress. How noble for a commoner like yourself. You must entertain dreams of being a knight to be so idealistic.” Braga lunged, dipped, and slashed. Hadrian fell back again, and once more, Braga smiled and laughed at him. “The truth is, you are not holding me at all. I’m holding you.”
The archduke feinted left and then short-stroked toward Hadrian’s body. He dodged the attack, but it put him off balance and off guard. Although Braga’s stroke missed, it allowed him the opportunity to punch the hilt of his sword hard into Hadrian’s face, throwing him back against the corridor wall. His lip began to bleed. Immediately, Braga lashed out again, but Hadrian had moved, and the archduke’s sword sparked across the stone wall.
“That looked like it hurt.”
“I’ve had worse,” Hadrian said. He was panting slightly, his voice less confident.
“I must admit, you two have been quite impressive. Your reputation is certainly well earned. It was very clever of you to slip into the sewers behind those rat catchers and use them as decoys. It was also intelligent of you to send that note causing me to direct you right to the princess but your genius ended there. You see, I can kill you whenever I want, but I want you alive. I need at least one person to execute. The mob will insist on that. In a few moments, Wylin and a dozen guards will come up here, and you’ll be taken to the stake. Meanwhile, your friend, whom you are sure is rescuing Arista, will be the instrument of her death and his as well. You could run and warn him, but—oh, that’s right—you are keeping me at bay, aren’t you?”
Braga grinned and attacked again.
Royce reached a door at the end of the hall and was not surprised to find it locked. He pulled his tools from his belt. The lock was traditional, and he had no trouble picking it. The door swung open, but immediately Royce knew something was wrong. He felt, more than heard, a click as the door pulled back. His instincts told him something was not right. He looked up the spiral stairs that disappeared around the circle of the tower. Nothing looked amiss, but years of experience told him otherwise.
He tentatively put a foot on the first step and nothing happened. He moved to the second, and the third, inching his way up. Listening for any telltale sounds, he searched for wires, levers, and loose tiles. Everything appeared safe. Behind him down the hallway, he could hear the faint sounds of swordplay as Hadrian entertained the archduke. He needed to hurry.