‘Magnificent!’ said Magir. ‘Never have I seen the tumbler’s roll so brilliantly executed. You could be of the Cheiam yourself.’
Scaler sat back against the wall, sword dropping from nerveless fingers.
Pagan crashed open the door. ‘Are you all right, Rek?’ he said. Scaler turned to see the giant black man filling the doorway like an ebony statue, while the door itself sagged on broken hinges.
‘You could have merely opened it,’ said Scaler. ‘Gods, the drama around here is killing me!’
‘Speaking of which,’ said Pagan, ‘I have just killed two men in my room. Belder is dead – they cut his throat.’
Scaler pushed himself to his feet. ‘They killed him? Why?’
‘You shamed the prince,’ said Magir. ‘He must kill you – he has no choice.’
‘And what of the spirit of Joachim? What was the point of bringing him back?’
‘I cannot answer that, Lord Earl. But you must leave now.’
‘Leave? He killed my friend – probably the only friend I ever had. He was like a father to me. Get out and leave me alone – both of you!’
‘Don’t do anything foolish,’ warned Pagan.
‘Foolish: It’s all foolish. Life is a farce – a stupid, sickening farce played out by fools. Well, this is one fool who has had enough. So get out!’
Scaler dressed swiftly, buckling on his sword-belt and taking his blade in his hand. Moving to the window, he leaned out. A rope swung in the night breeze and Scaler took hold of it, leaping from the window and sliding hand-over-hand to the courtyard below.
Four guards watched him in silence as he landed lightly on the marble flagstones. He walked out into the centre of the courtyard and stared up at the windows of the prince’s chamber.
‘Prince of cowards, come forth!’ he shouted. ‘Prince of lies and deceit, show yourself. Joachim said you were a sheep. Come out!’
The sentries exchanged glances but did not move.
‘I am alive, prince. The Earl of Bronze is alive! All your assassins are dead and you are about to join them. Come out – or I will shrivel your soul where you hide. Come out!’
The curtains of the window moved and there stood the prince, his face flushed and angry. He leaned on the carved stone sill and shouted to the sentries.
‘Kill him!’
‘Come and do it yourself, you jackal!’ yelled Scaler. ‘Joachim called me his friend and so I am. In your own temple you heard him, yet you send assassins to my room. You spineless pig! You defile your ancestor and break your own laws of hospitality. Offal! Get down here!’
‘You heard me – kill him!’ screamed the prince. The sentries moved forward, lances levelled.
Scaler lowered his sword, his bright blue eyes fixed on the leading warrior.
‘I will not fight you,’ he said. ‘But what will you have me tell Joachim when next I meet him? And what will you tell him when you walk the road to Sheol?’ The man hesitated as behind Scaler Pagan ran across the courtyard, two swords in his hands. Magir was beside him.
The sentries braced themselves for the charge.
‘Leave him be!’ yelled Magir. ‘He is the Earl and his challenge is laid down.’
‘Come down, prince of cowards,’ shouted Scaler. ‘Your time is come!’
The prince clambered over the sill and leapt the ten feet to the flagstones, his white robes flaring out in the breeze. Walking to a sentry he took the man’s tulwar, testing it for balance.
‘Now you will die,’ said the prince. ‘I know you are a liar. You are not the long-dead Earl – you are a deceiver.’
‘Prove it!’ snapped Scaler. ‘Step forward. I am the greatest swordsman ever to walk the earth. I turned back the hordes of the Nadir. I broke the blade of Joachim Sathuli. Step forward and die!’
The prince licked his lips and stared into the blazing eyes. Sweat trickled down his cheeks and in that moment he knew he was doomed. Life was suddenly very precious and he was far too important a man to allow some demon from the deep to trick him into combat. His hand began to shake.