“Don’t touch the banister,” Shard directed.
“Why?” Ryan demanded, a hand hovering above the wood railing.
“Never seen any of the sec men or the heirs do it,” he replied. “And they don’t let servants. So mebbe it’s old and will fall over.”
“Or booby-trapped,” J.B. said.
Slowly, they proceeded down. The staircase led into the main hail, a cavernous room with vaulted ceilings. Muttering voices, garbled by distance, sounded somewhere. Feeling incredibly vulnerable, the companions stood in the hail, ready to flee or fight. That decision had been made in the aerial dungeon. They would fight to the death before letting the fat man get hold of them.
“Well?” Ryan demanded, looking at Shard.
“We go right toward the branching corridor.” He lowered his voice. “No talking. We’ll be near the barracks room.”
Ryan frowned and took the point position. Krysty was backup. Jak at the rear position.
As they entered the hall proper, the torches were replaced by electric lights In chandeliers. A roaring fireplace threw out waves of heat. A sleeping dog lay prone on a bearskin rug before the crackling flames, its hind legs moving as it chased imaginary quarry. Ryan moved quickly and swung his chain once to build speed, then struck. The dog jerked at the impact, then went totally still. Mildred and Doc rolled the dog in the rug and shoved it against the wall behind a chair.
The friends moved through an arched doorway and faced twin doors. Rising to twice the height of Ryan, and made out of polished ironwood with huge hinges, the portals had bronze knockers bigger than barrel hoops. A very normal-appearing lock was visible at key height.
Ryan raised a hand and closed it into a fist. Everybody halted. He motioned at the doors to Shard, and the man vehemently shook his head and pointed onward.
“That leads to the servants’ quarters,” Shard said, glancing about nervously. “Hack room is around the corner, past the kitchen.”
J.B. checked the lock, but indicated he couldn’t see through the keyhole. Doc tapped his wrist, and Krysty agreed.
Ryan felt something was wrong, but couldn’t put his finger on the problem, so reluctantly continued onward, deeper into the prison. A long hallway of doors stretched before them and the companions proceeded as quietly as possible. A woman’s laughter rose from the other side of a door, followed by a slap, and the sound of sobbing. From another came the steady sound of a whip striking bare flesh. Snoring from another, the sound of enthusiastic sex, more snoring.
At the end of the corridor was a T-shaped intersection, and Shard pointed to the tight. Dropping to his belly, Ryan risked a fast look around the corner.
“Two men with blasters near the door,” he whispered to the others. “Big boys, but they look bored.”
“Haven’t seen enough action,” J.B. commented. “After a few decades of protecting your own from nothing, a man gets sloppy.”
“Gets dead,” Jak corrected, cracking his knuckles. “I’ll get.”
Ryan stopped him. “With what, the chain? They have blasters. You’ll never get close enough.”
“You got better?” Jak asked pointedly.
“What we need is a diversion,” Doc said.
“Catch them unawares.”
“I’m fast,” Dean offered.
Mildred gazed at the youngster. “Are you good enough with your hands to kill two in silence?”
“Me either, so don’t feel bad.”
Kneeling, Ryan studied the floor. “J.B., you got blood on your boots.”
The Armorer blinked. “So?”
Ryan handed Doc his chain. The old man accepted the weapon and expertly wrapped it around his gnarled fist. Removing his patch, Ryan exposed the puckered hole underneath. Yanking a button off Jak’s shirt, he wrapped it in piece of white cloth from Shard. Stooping-over, Ryan rubbed a finger along the sole of J.B.’s boot and smeared the blood on his face in a line from his socket to his collar.
“Be careful,” Shard said, pulling his bead back from the corner. “I recognize them both. The little one is Hamilton. They call him the Hammer of the Citadel. Be careful, he’s dangerous.”
“What about the big guy with all the muscles. A mutie?”
“Just very large. But Roy is no danger. Has the mind of a child. Stronger than a mule, but he isn’t right in the head.”