the window and took a quick look inside. The scene was un-
changed. The prisoner was still wrapped in his blanket and ly-
ing on the floor at the rear of the cabin. Four of the men still
sat at the table. Damson and Matty exchanged a quick glance,
then started toward the front. They reached the comer and
looked onto the sagging porch.
The sentry was gone.
Matty’s face clouded, but she edged into the light anyway.
sword held ready, and moved for the open door. Damson fol-
lowed, glancing left and right, thinking. Where is he? They were
almost to me door when the sentry reappeared out of the dark,
come from checking me animals perhaps, looking off that way
and muttering to himself. He didn’t see the women until he
stepped onto the porch, tfien grunted in surprise and reached for
his weapons. Matty was quicker. She shifted the sword to her
left hand, reached down with her right, brought out one of the
throwing knives, and flung it at the man. The blade caught him
in the chest and he went back off the porch with a hiss of pain.
Then they were through the door and inside the cabin, Matty
leading. Damson at her back. The room was small and smoky
and cramped, and it seemed as if they were right on top of the
slavers. Damson could see their faces clearly, the sweat on their
360 The Talismans of Shannara
skin, the anger and surprise in their eyes. The men leaped up
from the table, weapons wrenched free of belts and sheaths.
Shouts and oaths rose up, glasses and tin cups tipped away, and
ate spilled onto the floor. Many killed the nearest man and went
for the next. The table flipped over, scattering debris every-
where. One of the men turned toward the captive, but Matty
was too close to be ignored, and he twisted back to meet her
rush. A second man went down, blood pouring from his throat,
clawing at the air and then tumbling away. The two who re-
mained rushed Matty Roh with swords and knives glinting
wickedly in the lamplight and forced her back toward the wall.
Damson stepped away, looking for an opening. Someone
grabbed her from behind, and the fifth man, blood leaking from
his chest wound, lurched through the doorway, clutching at her
with his fingers. She twisted away, slippery with his blood, then
shoved him back out the door and down the steps. Outside, the
mules brayed and kicked at the cabin wall in terror.
Matty darted and cut at the men before her, fighting to keep
from being cornered, yelling for Damson. A lamp shattered,
spilling oil everywhere, and flames spread across the cabin
floor. Damson threw herself onto the back of the man nearest,
tearing at his eyes. He howled in pain, dropped his weapons,
and fought with his bare hands to fling her away. She let
go, throwing herself clear, reaching for her knife. The man
went for her in a frenzy, heedless of everything else, tripped,
and went down in the fire. It caught on his clothing and began
to bum, and he ran screaming out the door and into the night.
The last man held his ground a moment longer, then bolted for
the door as well. Flames were racing up the walls now, streaking
across the rafters, eating hungrily at the dry wood. Damson and
Matty raced for the back of the cabin where the captive had risen
to his knees and was tearing at the ring that chained him to the
wall. Matty shoved him down wordlessly, brought the big hunt-
ing knife out from her boot, and hacked and cut and pried at the
wall until the ring broke loose. Then in a knot they rushed for
the cabin door, the flames all about them, the heat singeing their
hair and flesh. They were almost clear when the captive twisted
free and turned back, charging into the smoke and fire with the
chains trailing behind him, searching the debris on the floor until
he came up with the Sword of Shannara.
The Talismans of Shannara 361
It wasn’t until they were all outside, gasping for air and