Blood of the Red

Chapter 42 - Shallo

Chapter 42 – Shallo

The iron door made no sound as it began to open. It swung back on its hinges, slowly at first, building speed. Shallo watched from her perch, the chandelier's chain in one hand, a cross-knife in the other. A man squeezed through the gap in the moment it became wide enough. Not Ingold, the tension left her. The man wore the livery of the red-crests, though he'd lost his helm.

"Stannith!" he hollered, "Stannith is coming from the Sanctum! He has a monster with him!"

The door to the main corridor stood wide, and others took up the guardsman's cries.

Shallo watched them assemble beneath her in the vaulted hall. Dozens of red-crests, guardsmen from street patrols, Blood Guard returning from scouring the Inner City. One of the Blood Guard took command, a thick-set man with three crimson stripes on his breastplate and red ridges along his neck.

"We will array ourselves in the street."

It made sense, fire-magic would make the place an oven. Not all of the men were Blood Guard, and even the Cloister would burn if you get it hot enough.

A one-stripe Blood Guard drew his sword. "We won't burn though, Captain Kenc. Let the Blood Guard take care of their own."

Kenc turned for the main door, shaking his head. "So many swords will crowd in this chamber. Our enemy would hold the doorway. In the open, numbers will tell. And if they reach that far, then we will need numbers!" He spoke with certainty. The men obeyed in silence. Shallo could see the captain held their respect.

All the men, nearly sixty swords, followed the captain into the street. Shallo lay on her perch, thoughtful. She tested the points of the cross-knife in her hand.

Only minutes passed before she heard the footsteps, heavy and scraping. A glow lit the crack of the door, hot and orange with never a flicker. The iron portal opened easy as a screen-door. When it slammed into the wall, the chandelier shook. A hulking monster filled the archway, wider than the unfortunate Bremol, half as tall again. How many cross-knives to bring that down?

The beast stooped to enter, its folded wings scraping the arch's keystone. Shallo marveled at the beauty of the thing. It glowed like the embers of a fire, patterning the walls as it moved with copies of its red and gold scales. Ingold stepped from behind the monster, a broken sword in his hand.

Ingold! Shallo cast the monster from her mind. Ingold's face held her gaze. Walk the path cold. Her eyes hunted his features for the arrogance she painted there in her memories. A thin trickle of blood ran from her hand where she had tested the point of her cross-knife. She rose, slow as slow, her arm drawn back for the throw.

Movement caught her eye. The bard's cloak rippled. The child, Dain, slipped from behind him. His voice reached her, clear and high,

"They're waiting just out side."

"How many?" Ingold asked.

"All of them," Dain said, "lots." He paused. "I could command-"

"No." Ingold cut him short. "They will have archers on the rooftops. You can't stop them all like you did below."

"You and I, Ingold. We can take them." The monster's words took Shallo by surprise. It can talk! She looked again - it did walk like a man, and even had the remains of leather trews about its hips.

"Will you hold Dain under one arm? Or shall I put him on my back?" Fear and anger rolled through Ingold's words. "Or we could leave him here with a priest until we're done outside?"