The Rebels' Assault (6 page)

“Master? M-master?”

Slavious Doom slowly turned his head to face the spineless servant with the annoying voice who seemed intent on bothering him.

“If you say another word, I will have you KILLED. Do you underst—”

“We're under attack, Master!” The words were spluttered out. “We're under attack!”

Doom's face froze for a moment, and then he spoke very slowly, turning the guard away from the gathered merchants as he did so. “Where?” he muttered. “And do speak quietly, for your life does depend upon your discretion.”

“The gate, Master.” A shaking finger was pointed back toward the entrance to the courtyard. “A ship arrived. We thought it was a slaver, so two of the sentries went down to talk to 'em . . . but now they're dead, and there's an army of slaves heading for the main gates. There must be fifty of 'em!”

Slavious Doom signaled to a group of guards who were standing idly between the merchant crowd and the scaffold. They quickly marched over to join him.

“You will come with me to the main gate,” he said. Then, turning back to face the scaffold, Doom cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the top of his voice.

“Kill the other two slaves!” he cried. “Now!”

As the wall of merchant faces focused on the brave Gaul who was dancing nimbly among the snakes, Slavious Doom turned and ran for the entrance.

Behind him, Drin Hain rushed headfirst at the still-trembling Gladius, while Teo's trapdoor was quickly pulled out from under him, leaving him kicking in midair while the noose stretched his bony neck . . .

D
ecimus Rex saw Slavious Doom approaching long before the pair came face-to-face. He and Olu had been ordered to the back of the line by the
Caveat
slaves, who were so grateful for their freedom that they had insisted on leading the assault against the Suvius Tower without them. Decimus had quickly refused the offer, but had nevertheless been held back while the slaves, all armed with cutlasses, made short work of the sentries on guard at the tower. More guards had arrived, but none were a match for the slaves, who fought with a bloodlust born of the terrible treatment they had received on the
Caveat
.

Then, suddenly, everything changed. The great doors of the courtyard were thrown open and a new wave of guards flooded out. Among them was Slavious Doom.

Resplendent in his golden armor, the overlord of Arena Primus cut his way through the slave line like a man swatting away flies.

“We don't stand a chance,” Olu whispered. “Look at him! The man is absolutely insane! If he finds out we're here—”

“He already knows,” Decimus interrupted. “Don't ask me how, but he does. And you're right—we can't fight him. We need to use the slaves as a distraction and sneak around him. Otherwise, Gladius and the others are dead.”

“They're probably dead already!”

“We need to know for sure!”

Decimus grabbed Olu by the arm and dragged him toward the edge of the rocky path. Keeping a firm hold on his friend's arm, he crept very quickly around the edge of the battle. The pair stopped only once on their careful journey toward the tower gates to watch with bewildered awe as Slavious Doom hoisted one unfortunate slave into the air and hurled him at several others. Then they were on their way again, past struggling sentries and screaming slaves, over giant rocks and burning sand, and, finally, through the great double doors that led to the tower courtyard.

Ruma descended the chain like a spider monkey climbing down a tree. When he reached the very last link, he hung there for a moment, realized that he was still too far from the ground to let go, and promptly began to swing back and forth in slow, determined sweeps, picking up speed as he went. After one final pass, he let go of the chain and swung out over the mostly distracted merchant crowd, crashing onto the roof of the scaffold and rolling over several times before slamming into an expanse of dirt directly in front of the audience. The pain ravaged his body, but he fought through it and leaped to his feet, screwing up his face and screaming like an enraged banshee at the wall of faces before him. This was too much for the merchant crowd, who, noticing the sudden lack of guards around them, began to scramble to their feet and head for the exits.

Delighted at this reaction, Ruma quickly scampered over the edge of the stalls and leaped upon a stunned merchant, snatching the man's dagger before taking a second, longer leap down onto the courtyard's main stage. A quick glimpse told him everything: Gladius was being taken apart by Drin Hain, but in a manner that suggested the assassin was intent on providing him with a slow death, while Argon had managed to evade the snake swarm and was already scampering up the side of the pit, a cascade of dirt flying in his wake. It was Teo who needed the help. The Oriental slave was still kicking frantically, but his strength was visibly waning.

Ruma dashed for the stage.

As Decimus and Olu entered the tower courtyard, they were greeted by a horde of rampaging merchants. The group, which looked to be more than a hundred strong, was all visibly terrified, and washed over them like a great wave breaking over rocks: not one of them looked back. Decimus and Olu both drew their swords and advanced.

Ruma had failed to raise the trapdoor beneath Teo's feet. Instead, he'd had to use an old plank he'd found wedged against the lion cage, and was now balancing precariously over the hole while trying to lift Teo up in an attempt to take the pressure off his neck. Teo had stopped moving several seconds before, but Ruma was determined not to give up.

“Come on, Teo!” he yelled, his feet scrambling for footing on the wood. “Don't you die on me!”

Gladius raised his sword and tried to lunge at Drin Hain, who sidestepped the clumsy assault and brought his own blade down in a swift arc. Steel met steel and, to Gladius's surprise, his sword was shattered. He stepped back and looked down at the broken hilt in his hands, but the shadow continued to stalk him. A fist flew out of the cloak like a rock and slammed into his face. He felt blood begin to flow from his nose and tasted the sweet liquid as it dripped onto his tongue.

Hain didn't stop there. A second blow doubled him over, and a knee was driven into the side of his face. The world flew away, and Gladius hit the dirt hard.

Hain released a pitying cackle and raised his sword to finish him. Then, wanting to take a moment to make the final strike worthy of an expectant crowd, he quickly glanced around him . . . at a very different scene.

The merchants had all rushed for the doors, where it looked as though a larger, separate struggle was taking place. Slavious Doom was nowhere to be seen, and the gangly Etrurian slave was attempting to save his friend from the noose by balancing over the trapdoor and lifting him up. As Hain tried to decide where his attention was most urgently required, a shrill whistle at his shoulder shook him from his reverie. He spun around . . . and Decimus Rex plunged a sword straight into his heart.