His heart lurched in his chest. Xeteskians were everywhere. The hallway could take three in a line with room to swing long swords but for now he faced only two. Behind him, the space to the door back into the catacombs was blocked by the hideous smouldering corpses of the TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar mages. Ahead, the enemy. Guardsmen lined the hallway, more were waiting on the stairs, many armed with crossbows which were swung to bear. Mages stood well back. He saw one on either side of the stairway and others on the stairs themselves.
He threw himself into the front rank of the Xeteskians. A bolt flashed past him, thudding into the door. Rebraal was by him, the elf's speed remarkable, his bow discarded and dagger and short sword now in hand.
'Keep close, watch the peripheries,' called Darrick as the shouts began to ratde around the enclosed space. He blocked two blows in quick succession and shoved his man back, looking for the angle to close. 'Don't give the mages line of sight.'
Darrick's man made his first mistake, attempting a round-arm strike. The general stepped inside, blocked the arm at the height of its arc and punched forward with his right-hand dagger, piercing the man's heart. He shuddered and the strength left him. Ready for it, Darrick leaned into die body shoving him back hard into those behind him.
With no time to admire his handiwork, Darrick leaped the body, hunching low to keep his frame out of sight. His new opponents were off balance but Rebraal hadn't been as quick dispensing with his first man and Darrick was exposed on his right. A blade flashed in. He blocked it, just, catching the blade on the hilt of his dagger and twisting down. Looking left, he jabbed half forwards, drawing a false stroke from his other direct opponent. A third man joined the line but couldn't strike from his far right position. For that he was grateful.
He planted a foot carefully behind and rocked backwards as a second strike came in from the right, feeling it swish past his face. His momentum brought him forwards again and he let it carry him, again getting inside his man but finding the way blocked by a chop to the top of his left arm. He whipped in his right arm, dagger blade planting into the man's side beneath his ribs, driving deep into flesh.
A heartbeat later, the second Xeteskian stabbed forwards. Darrick, not quite quick enough to adjust his body shape, felt the blade slice through his armour and cut across the top of his hip. The wound burned and the blood started to flow. He grunted in pain and dropped back.
'Rebraal, I need you.'
'Right here.' Rebraal's short sword took the right hand from Darrick's tormentor. The elf s dagger slashed across his face, removing an eye. Finally, he stepped up and kicked forwards, knocking the screaming man onto his back. 'Darrick?'
'I'll live,' said Darrick.
And with his right leg soaking in his blood, he drove forwards again.
Auum and Duele shouldered their bows and picked up Evunn again, their beloved Tai unresisting, drifting in and out of consciousness, his head slumped forwards. Auum feared for him but could not let that fear dominate him. He cleared his mind while they moved past the two guards. Duele paused to rip the arrows clear of the bodies and they ran on into what had to be a catacomb hub.
In front of them the noise level had increased. The spells no longer sounded but instead the sounds of close fighting filled the air, coming from an area ahead and below them. They were in what looked like the inside of a house. Wood-panelled and hung with pictures, the narrow corridor was lined with doors, all closed. Auum chose to ignore them, moving his Tai quickly towards the sounds ahead.
At an empty alcove, he motioned Duele to take Evunn while he slipped forwards. The corridor ended in a blank wall and to the right, turned into a similar door-lined landing. He crouched low and peered around the corner. At its end were stairs and crowded on the landing were Xeteskians, he couldn't be bothered to count them. Doors on either side were open. The sounds of fighting and dying were loud in his ears and above it all he could hear the voices of those he knew, one louder than all the rest. Hirad Coldheart.
He was back with Duele moments later.
'We must leave him. We have work.'
'Here?'
Auum looked down at Evunn, his mind darkening anew. The Tai was unconscious now. 'He can come to little more harm than he has suffered already.'
He knelt down and kissed Evunn's lips, taking the stricken elf s head from Duele's lap and lowering it gently to the floor. Evunn's legs protruded into the corridor but that was a further risk he had to take.
'We will not leave you, brother. Stay with us. Yniss will protect you.' He stood, drew a short sword and unclasped his half-empty jaqrui pouch. 'I will not waste arrows on these men. They are less than animals and deserve no respect. We move.'
The two TaiGethen padded away, Evunn lying in their wake, their prayers with him but their thoughts ahead. Their only chance for him was to get a mage to examine him. Whatever spell the Xeteskian had used, it had attacked Evunn's brain.
Auum motioned Duele to run side by side with him. Without pause, he rounded the corner, jaqrui in his right hand, his sword held in defence as he passed doorways should he need it. After two sets of closed doors, the next pair were open. Ten yards ahead, soldiers craned their necks to see the action below them.
Left-hand open door, a figure appeared. Auum didn't even break stride, reversing his blade in his hand and stabbing into the enemy's neck. He choked and fell back, a strangled cry emerging from his ruined throat. Above the clamour of fighting, the soldiers ahead heard it, turning to see their doom approaching at a speed they could never hope to counter.
Auum's jaqrui howled away. Now was not the time for quiet, now was the time to instil fear. The crescent blade scythed into his target's stomach at the waistband. Duele's found the arm of his man. Both yelled the alarm, demanding help, that would not arrive in time. The TaiGethen hit them like a whirlwind.
Duele dragged out his second blade and swept it into his enemy's face. Auum planted a foot, turned a high roundhouse kick and sent his man spinning backwards. Landing, he snapped in a punch to the back of the neck and stepped over the falling man. He jabbed his sword into the thigh of the next as the enemy fought to bring up a defence.
Auum let his limbs work without conscious thought, reaching that plane where he sat almost as an outsider, seeing everything, Tual directing his every move. They were so slow, the Xeteskians, their long blades cumbersome in these close quarters. They paid, every one that fell, for the crimes committed against the elven nation and, more immediately, Evunn and every TaiGethen who had fallen as a result of their masters' actions.
The calm settled on Auum. His blade worked inside the guard of another enemy, spearing into his eye. His free hand worked in double time, balled as a fist to smash nose or mouth, open and upright for the base of his palm to slam into forehead, nose and chest or straight-fingered to crush windpipe.
They couldn't get near him. His legs kept him dancing beyond their attempts to strike back, his feet swift, dealing out blows to knee and ankle if not balancing him to strike again or dodge blow after blow.
He could hear the whispering in his mind, his mantra to the Gods that he served, repeated again and again, over and over. I will serve beyond death, I will preserve all you have wrought.
Auum's blade blocked another attack, he sidestepped a second, ducked a crossbow bolt and killed another.