Questing Knight(科幻战争)-第7部分

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Calard　stepped　away　from　the　door；　his　sword　levelled　towards　it。　It　shook　violently；　but　held。
‘What　in　Morr’s　name　is　going　on？’　came　a　slurred　a　voice。　Calard　looked　over　his　shoulder　to　see
one　of　Merovech’s　knights　stumbling　down　the　stairs；　a　drawn　blade　in　his　hands。　He　was　clearly　still　the
worse　for　wear　from　the　night’s　drinking；　and　he　was　followed　by　several　of　his　comrades；　all　in　various
stages　of　dishevelment。　Other　guests　of　the　inn　were　emerging　from　their　rooms；　their　faces　drawn　and
pale。
‘We　are　besieged；’　said　Calard。
The　banging　at　the　door　subsided；　and　Calard　edged　towards　it；　listening　intently。
‘How　did　they　get　into　the　compound？’　said　one　of　the　knights。
‘Someone　let　them　in；　most　likely；’　said　Calard；　glancing　around。　‘The　innkeeper　would　be　my　guess。
’
‘What？’　said　a　voice。　‘Why　would　you　say　that？’
‘Do　you　see　him　here；　or　any　of　his　staff？’　said　Calard；　gesturing　around　him。　‘They　are　probably　all
holed　up　in　the　gatehouse。’
‘The　bastard’s　sold　us　out　to　Mortis；’　growled　one　of　Merovech’s　knights。　At　mention　of　the　name；
Chlod　whimpered。
Several　of　the　other　guests　began　to　speak　at　once；　their　voices　rising　in　panic。
‘Quiet；’　snapped　Calard。
In　the　ensuing　silence；　they　could　all　hear　shuffling　around　the　exterior　of　the　inn。　There　were　scuffling
noises　at　the　walls；　and　Calard　looked　up。
‘They　are　going　for　the　second　floor　windows；’　shouted　someone；　and　Calard　quickly　looked　around
him。　There　were　over　half　a　dozen　armed　men　in　the　main　room　of　the　inn　now。
‘You　three；’　he　said；　jabbing　a　finger　a　cluster　of　men　holding　weapons。　‘Get　upstairs　and　barricade
the　windows。’
‘I’ll　be　damned　if　I　take　orders　from–’　snarled　one　of　them；　but　Calard　cut　him　off。
‘Do　it！’　he　thundered。　The　man　looked　like　he　was　going　to　argue；　but　the　others　saw　sense　in　Calard
’s　words；　and　hurried　up　the　stairs。　Calard　gestured　towards　other　men　with　his　sword。　‘Get　those　tables
on　their　sides　to　block　the　windows！　You　and　you；　help　me　slide　this　one　in　front　of　the　door！’
Unseen　by　Calard；　Raben　staggered　unsteadily　down　the　stairs　into　the　common　room；　one　hand
pressed　to　his　temple。　He　had　a　sword　in　his　hand；　and　his　eyes　burned　with　cold　fury。　He　moved
purposefully　towards　Calard　as　he　heaved　at　a　heavy　oak　table；　positioning　it　to　block　the　front　door。
A　shuttered　window　suddenly　exploded　inwards　amid　a　shower　of　splinters；　and　feral　peasants　began
clawing　their　way　through；　howling　and　braying　like　demented　madmen。　A　table　propped　against　another
window　was　shoved　aside；　and　more　of　the　cannibalistic　rabble　began　clambering　inside。
‘For　the　Lady！’
Calard　leapt　forwards　and　brought　his　sword　down　on　the　head　of　the　first　peasant　to　scramble
through；　cleaving　its　skull　down　to　the　teeth；　spraying　blood。
He　smashed　another　peasant　back　with　the　pommel　of　his　sword；　but　dozens　more　were　straining　to
get　in。　He　could　hear　banging　from　upstairs；　but　that　was　soon　drowned　out　by　shouting；　the　clash　of
weapons　and　the　sickly　sound　of　blades　hacking　into　flesh　and　bone。
Hands　clawed　for　him　and　he　stepped　swiftly　away　from　the　door；　slashing　with　his　sword。　A　clutch

of　fingers　dropped　to　the　floor；　twitching。
Chlod　backed　off；　looking　around　frantically　for　an　escape　route。　He　ran　behind　the　bar　and　tugged
at　the　cellar　door；　but　he　could　not　lift　it。
The　front　door　was　ripped　off　its　hinges　and　tossed　aside　suddenly；　and　a　flood　of　peasants　streamed
in；　scrambling　over　the　table　slid　up　against　it。　Some　carried　crude　clubs　and　rusted　farm　implements；
while　others　seemed　intent　on　killing　with　nothing　more　than　tooth　and　claw。
Chlod　dropped　to　the　floor　and　crawled　under　the　bar；　trying　to　make　himself　as　inconspicuous　as
possible。
Calard　found　himself　fighting　side　by　side　with　Raben　and　two　other　men。　Despite　the　knock　Calard
had　given　him；　the　outcast　knight　fought　with　poise　and　control。　He　was　fast　and　deadly；　his　timing
impeccable。　Calard　was　careful　not　to　turn　his　back　on　him。
The　devolved　peasants　came　on　like　a　living　tide；　scrabbling　over　tables　and　sending　chairs　flying；
forcing　Calard　and　Raben　back　against　the　bar。　For　every　one　of　their　number　that　was　cut　down；　two
more　squeezed　through　the　windows　and　clambered　through　the　gaping　door。
The　room　was　filled　with　their　stink；　a　mixture　of　sweat；　rotting　meat　and　wet　soil。
It　was　not　long　before　they　started　to　attack　down　the　inn’s　stairs。
‘They’ve　taken　the　upper　floor；’　said　Calard。
One　of　Raben’s　knights　was　knocked　to　the　ground　and　brained　with　what　looked　like　a　human
thigh…bone。
‘This　is　hopeless；’　growled　Raben。　‘There　are　too　many　of　them！’
‘I　have　no　intention　of　dying　here；’　said　Calard；　kicking　a　twitching　corpse　off　his　blade。　‘The　Lady　is
with　me。’
Raben　ran　another　peasant　through；　then　spat　derisively。　‘The　Lady　forsook　this　place　long　ago。’
One　by　one；　the　inn’s　defenders　were　dragged　down；　their　heads　smashed　in　with　sticks　and　their
throats　ripped　out　with　blood…stained　teeth。　The　peasants　descended　on　them　like　starved　beasts；　and
screams　rang　out　from　those　not　yet　dead　when　the　cannibals　began　their　gory　feast。
‘There　must　be　another　way　out；’　shouted　Calard；　now　fighting　back　to　back　with　Raben。　The　notion
of　fleeing　from　mere　peasants　wrenched　at　his　sense　of　pride；　but　it　would　not　serve　the　Lady’s　purpose
if　he　died　here。
Calard　was　wielding　his　bastard　sword　in　one　hand　now；　and　had　drawn　the　Sword　of　Garamont
with　his　other。
A　screeching；　near　naked　peasant　leapt　at　Calard　from　atop　the　bar；　its　body　scrawny　and
malnourished。　Calard　cut　it　down　in　midair；　and　it　fell　in　a　bloody　heap　to　the　floor。　Calard　glanced
around　him；　getting　a　sense　of　their　position　within　the　common　room。
‘The　kitchen；’　he　said；　indicating　towards　it　with　a　nod。　‘That’s　our　best　chance。　There　must　be　a
back　door。’
Both　Calard　and　Raben　were　splattered　with　blood；　and　while　most　of　it　was　not　their　own；　neither
man　was　uninjured。　Raben　risked　a　quick　glance　back　towards　the　kitchen。　It　was　at　least　ten　yards
away；　and　they　were　now　completely　surrounded。
‘We　won’t　make　it；’　said　Raben。
‘Stay　here　and　die　then；　damn　you；’　said　Calard。
With　a　roar；　he　forced　the　enemy　back；　swinging　his　swords　around　in　a　pair　of　deadly　arcs。　Taking
advantage　of　the　space　he　had　created；　he　leapt　atop　the　bar　and　ran　along　its　length　towards　the　back　of
the　inn。　Peasants　reached　for　him　but　his　blades　sliced　out；　keeping　them　at　bay。　He　leapt　off　the　far　end；

slamming　a　pair　of　enemies　to　the　floor。　He　came　to　his　feet　in　the　kitchen　doorway；　blades　at　the　ready。
The　kitchen　was　disgustingly　dirty；　and　rats　scuttled　in　the　shadows；　but　it　was　free　of　foes。　He　spotted　a
door　on　the　far　wall。
Glancing　back　into　the　common　room；　he　saw　Chlod　emerge　from　beneath　the　bar；　scurrying　under
tables　towards　him。
‘Quickly！’　Calard　shouted。　Peasants　were　close　behind　his　manservant；　their　red…rimmed　eyes　wide。
Raben　was　standing　alone；　surrounded。　He　turned　on　the　spot；　holding　his　sword　at　the　ready　as
peasants　closed　in　around　him；　too　many　to　hold　off　alone。　Briefly；　Calard’s　gaze　met　Raben’s　across　the
room。　He　saw　the　outcast　mouth　a　curse。　The　peasants　attacked　as　one　but　Raben　had　pre…empted　them
and　was　already　moving。　He　swayed　aside　from　a　vicious　blow　and　launched　a　lightning　counter　that　took
off　an　arm　at　the　elbow。
Calard　shoved　Chlod　into　the　kitchen。
‘Unlock　the　door！’　he　ordered。　Calard　stepped　back　to　give　himself　more　room　to　swing　as　the
enemy　came　at　him。　The　first　through　the　doorway　was　hacked　almost　in　two　as　he　cleaved　it　from
shoulder…blade　to　armpit。　He　dragged　his　sword　free　and　waited　for　the　next　to　enter；　but　the　peasants
hung　back；　none　willing　to　be　his　next　victim。　Glancing　over　his　shoulder；　he　saw　Chlod　at　the　back　door；
and　began　to　edge　towards　him。　The　peasants　came　after　him；　spreading　out；　but　they　were　wary　now　of
his　blade。　There　was　a　commotion　behind　the　peasants；　and　he　caught　a　glimpse　of　Raben　barging　his
way　through　the　press　of　bodies。
‘Wait；’　he　ordered　Chlod　as　he　heard　the　bolts　of　the　back　door　sliding　open。
The　knight　burst　into　the　room；　but　the　leg　of　a　chair　wielded　as　a　club　struck　him；　and　he　stumbled。
Three　peasants　were　on　him　in　an　instant。　Without　thought；　Calard　moved　to　his　aid。　He　hacked　into　the
bare　back　of　one　of　the　peasants　crouched　over　the　outcast；　severing　its　spine。　He　kicked　another　away；
sending　it　flying　face…first　into　a　bench　top；　bringing　a　pile　of　dirty　pots　down　with　a　crash。　He　slashed　at
another；　and　it　reeled　backwards　with　a　screech；　blood　spraying　from　its　neck。　The　peasants　had　now
circled　around　them；　filling　the　kitchen。
Calard　gripped　Raben　under　the　arm　and　helped　him　to　his　feet。　Blood　was　dripping　from　bite
wounds　on　his　cheek　and　neck。　The　outcast　knight　had　lost　his　grip　on　his　sword；　and　drew　a　slender
knife　from　his　boot。
‘You　should　have　gone　without　me；’　said　Raben。　‘I　would　have。’
‘And　that　is　the　difference　between　your　kind　and　mine；’　said　Calard。
The　peasants　came　at　them　in　a　rush。　Two　died　to　Calard’s　bastard　sword　and　another　to　Raben’s
stabbing　knife　before　the　two　knights　were　overwhelmed。
Seeing　his　master　disarmed　and　dragged　to　the　ground；　Chlod　slid　back　the　last　bolt　on　the　door　in　a
rush　and　threw　the　door　open。　The　cold　night　air　washed　in　and　without　a　backwards　glance　he　bolted
out　into　the　darkness。
Before　he　had　made　two　yards；　a　hand　locked　around　his　throat。　His　legs　went　out　from　under　him；
and　he　was　hurled　back　into　the　kitchen。　From　the　floor；　he　looked　up　to　see　a　gaunt　peasant　appear　in
the　doorway。　His　eyes　widened　as　the　figure　came　into　the　light。
‘No；　no；　no；　no；　no；’　said　Chlod；　scrambling　backwards　on　his　hands　and　knees。
The　figure　was　covered　in　crude　tattoos　and　wore　a　necklace　of　fingers　around　his　scrawny　neck。
Splinters　of　bone　had　been　pushed　through　the　skin　of　his　forearms。　He　looked　down　at　Chlod　and
smiled；　exposing　stained　teeth　that　had　been　filed　to　points。
‘Hello；　Chlod；’　he　said。

CALARD’S　ARMS　WERE　wrenched　behind　his　back　and　his　wrists　bound　with　tough；　sinewy　cord。
‘Chlod；’　he　said。　‘What　in　the　Lady’s　name　is　going　on？’
His　manservant　stood　nearby；　shivering；　his　eyes　wide　and　staring。　He　avoided　Calard’s　gaze　as　he
too　was　bound。
‘By　all　that　is　holy；　I　swear–’　said　Calard；　but　his　words　were　cut　short　as　a　hastily　tied　noose　was
looped　around　his　neck。　A　foot　between　his　shoulder　blades　pinned　him　down　as　it　was　yanked　taut；
making　him　gasp　for　breath。
Alongside　him；　Raben　was　suffering　similar　treatment；　held　face　down　on　the　floor　while　he　was
trussed　up　like　a　prize　hog。
The　tattooed　leader　of　the　peasant　rabble　barked　something　indecipherable　in　a　repulsive；　guttural
tongue　and　Calard　and　Raben　were　dragged　to　their　feet。　Another　barked　order　and　they　were　hauled
out　into　the　night。　The　tattooed　peasant　followed；　holding　Chlod　tightly　around　the　back　of　the　neck。
‘We’ve　missed　you；　Chlod；’　he　hissed。
VII
FOR　OVER　THREE　hours　they　were　dragged　through　stinking　marshes　and　haunted　forests　by　the　loping
parade　of　filthy；　cannibalistic　peasants。　Their　captives　were　not　the　feral　brood’s　only　spo