The Hammer - Cor Series Book I

Chapter 35

Corvan almost fell through the door in shock. Kate was leaning heavily on Jorad's arm. Her face was pale and her eyes dull, as if she had been drugged. He had to get her away from this place but how could he possibly get to her with a sea of armed warriors between them?

A man in the crowd whistled at Kate and a few others joined in. The leader's head snapped around to squint his disapproval, the beady eyes of the stuffed animal head glinting in the red light. The whistles immediately died off.

Dressed in the brilliant white cloak and with her red hair tucked under a tiara that sparkled in the firelight, Kate looked like a queen. She wavered on her feet and Jorad had to pull her closer to hold her up. Corvan pushed the door open a bit wider.

The leader shouted something about his new counterpart, becoming the Cor-van and the upcoming victory over Kadir. All of the men rose to their feet, chanting one phrase of a song over and over as they jumped about and worked themselves into a frenzy.

Corvan stepped back from the door. Tsarek had said Kate would die under the light of the lumiens and she already looked like she was barely alive. If he didn't do something right away Kate would be gone forever.

"Come on, Corvan," he muttered to himself, "there has to be something you can do."

He pulled the hammer from the holster. "I know I was too afraid to help Tarran. But I won't do the same thing to Kate."

He held the handle in front of him and looked at the end but there was light and no sense of power or direction. He snapped it back into the holster. Morgan's black knife would be more useful than a dead hammer. He dug into his pack and pulled out the blade. A bright red cylinder on a stick, one of his bottle rocket fireworks from home, tumbled out.

That could work! With the fireworks to create a diversion, he might be able to get close enough to help Kate escape. Digging frantically through the pack, he retrieved the rest of the fireworks, a pack of firecrackers, the waterproof tube of matches, and a stubby candle.

With the Swiss Army knife, he poked three holes around the leading edge of his last tin can. Sticking the three bottle rockets into the holes, he placed the can just inside the door. With the smallest blade, he drilled three holes just below the top of the candle, placed it on the top of the can, and inserted one rocket fuse into each hole. If his crude calculations were correct, by the time the candle burned down to the fuses, he could work his way around the perimeter to Kate and Jorad. If the man was any sort of priest at all, he would help him get Kate to safety.

Corvan took the can to the door and slid it halfway open. The scene outside had grown more intense and men were slamming into each other. The noise of the crowd was deafening in the enclosed space.

A shower of dust fell past the open door. He had forgotten about the men on the roofs. Those off to the sides could easily see him if they were to look back this way. He stepped back inside, battling the rising fear. How could he ever get over to Kate?

He glanced back to the tube of matches laying next to Morgan's black knife, the long tube of a Roman candle and the pack of firecrackers. It was time to act, not think about everything that might go wrong.

Lashing the knife to his forearm, he stuck the Roman candle under the sheath, stuffed the firecrackers into the back pocket of his jeans and grabbed the matches. Dropping on his knees by his bottle rocket contraption he opened the waterproof tube of matches.

Only three were left.

He struck one but he head broke off and fizzled on the ground.

His hands shook as he pulled out the second. It sputtered and he touched it to the wick. A flame sprang to life but as he dropped the match to the ground, the candle wavered and died to a smoking ember.