Deathstalker (52 page)

He felt a fleeting annoyance that whatever else happened his carefully cultivated fop persona was now at an end. He’d put a lot of work into being a fop. But he needed the Masked Gladiator now to survive, and he’d worry about the consequences later. If there was a later. The odds were not good.
The great room was now a mass of heaving bodies, with barely any room to swing a sword, and more gravity sleds were nosing through the shattered windows all the time, bringing more fighters. And with them came their masters, the Wolfes themselves.

Jacob Wolfe jumped down into the fray, a great bull of a man with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. He swung his sword with brutal efficiency, cutting his way through the crush toward the Campbells. Behind him came Valentine, with his painted face and scarlet smile, and Daniel, young and eager with a sword in each hand. And after them came Kit SummerIsle, Kid Death, the smiling killer, with his new friend the young Deathstalker, already moving so fast that his boosted movements were little more than a blur.
We are in deep trouble
, thought Finlay. He parried a blow on his shield and looked quickly around for the nearest exit.

The room was now filled from wall to wall with a mass of fighting bodies, surging this way and that. Wolfe troops clashed with Campbell guards, and the two Clans fought to get at each other. Crawford Campbell went after Kit SummerIsle, bellowing his anger. He couldn’t look at Kid Death without remembering how the smiling killer had cut down his own grandfather, Roderik SummerIsle. Crawford hadn’t realized how much a friend Roderik had been till he didn’t have him anymore. He’d lost a lot of things he cared for in his life, and Roderik had been one too many. He was going to have his revenge now if it killed him. The sheer fury of his attack threw Kit back on the defense, but he didn’t concede an inch. The Kid stood his ground and waited patiently for the Campbell’s arm to tire, smiling all the while.

Valentine Wolfe had triggered his battle drugs the moment Tower Campbell came in sight, and now they roared through his system like an unending bolt of lightning. Everyone else seemed slow and clumsy, their every swordstroke obvious and predictable. He cut a bloody path through the crush and threw himself on Finlay Campbell, who parried the lightning blows with surprising speed and skill. Valentine laughed breathlessly, eyes wide, and pressed the attack, thunder in his arms.

Daniel Wolfe went after Gerald Campbell, seeing the notorious fool as an easy target, and was startled to find Gerald a swift and cunning fighter. He might not be the brightest of
men, but he was a Campbell, after all. Daniel sniffed, and buckled down to some hard fighting. He was a Wolfe. They slammed together again and again, swords clashing and flying back from raised shields in a flurry of sparks. There wasn’t much room to fight in the crowd, and in the end it was luck as much as skill that ended the match. Gerald was just a moment too late in recovering from a lunge, and Daniel’s sword slipped past the Campbell’s defense and punched right through Gerald’s ribs. He looked more surprised than hurt, and then he coughed blood suddenly and fell to one knee. Daniel pulled his sword free and cut Gerald’s throat with a single economical stroke. Blood spurted, and Gerald fell to be trampled under uncaring feet. William Campbell cried out in shock and loss and threw himself upon Daniel, who met the new challenge with a broad grin and calm efficiency. He was a Wolfe, and today he would prove it in blood and slaughter.

Jacob Wolfe saw Investigator Razor working his way through the crowd toward him and immediately looked around for a lesser foe. Let some other fool tackle the Investigator; someone who was tired of living. He saw Finlay and Valentine pulled apart by the surging tides of the crowd and went after the young fop. Kill him, and Crawford’s morale would shatter. He closed in, expecting an easy victory, and was actually shocked to discover that Finlay Campbell was a master swordsman. There hadn’t been a hint of these skills in the intelligence reports, but it was too late to back away. He’d committed himself. A cold forboding curled within Jacob’s gut. If a dandy like Finlay could turn out to be a great swordsman, what else might the reports have been wrong about?

The crowd surged forward again, pushing them apart. Jacob was glad to see Finlay go. He looked around and saw Crawford swept away from Kid Death. A sense of destiny burned in Jacob as he fought his way through the press of bodies to engage Crawford. They came together, sword to sword, with a sense of relief that the preliminaries were finally over. Wolfe fought Campbell, eyes locked together, cutting and thrusting as though they were the only ones in the room. Their swords slammed together and leapt apart, and for a moment they seemed equally matched, but Jacob quickly took the advantage. Crawford was overweight and softened by too much easy living, while Jacob had always
taken pride in maintaining his fighting skills. Crawford began to back away, and Jacob went after him, refusing to allow the shifting crowd to rescue his foe. And in the end, the Wolfe simply battered the Campbell’s sword aside with his superior strength and ran him through. Crawford fell to the floor, and Jacob kicked him in the face as he lay dying. The Wolfe never saw his son Valentine move silently in behind him and thrust a dagger between his ribs. The blade was in and out in a moment, unseen by anyone, and Valentine was already moving away as Jacob Wolfe fell dying to the floor beside the body of his rival, the Campbell.

David Deathstalker, full of the thrill of the boost, went head-to-head with Investigator Razor. Their swords flew impossibly fast, and neither of them gave an inch. Kid Death moved in close with William Campbell and stuck him in the groin with a hidden dagger. William screamed in pain and horror as blood coursed down his legs, and Kit SummerIsle ran him through. While his sword was still trapped in William’s body, Adrienne stuck a knife in his back, just above the kidney. Kit swung round, his sword a bloody blur as he jerked it out of William’s chest and slammed it into Adrienne’s belly. Her legs buckled as he pulled the blade free in a gush of blood. Kid Death drew back his sword for the killing blow, and Finlay was suddenly there between them, intercepting the blow with his force shield. The press of bodies separated them, and Kit reluctantly went to help the Deathstalker against the Investigator. He left the knife where it was in his back. He had more important things to think about.

Finlay half led and half carried Adrienne away from the main action, put their backs against a wall and lowered her to the floor. She was holding her stomach with both hands, and blood pumped from between her fingers. Her face was deathly white, her mouth stretched in a grimace like a hideous smile. She was breathing in short grunts, and her eyes were squeezed shut. Finlay looked around him desperately, and his gaze fastened on the nearby window. He grabbed Adrienne by the arms and pulled her to her feet again, and she cried out in pain despite herself.

“Hold on, Addie,” said Finlay. “We’re leaving.”

She didn’t have the breath for an answer. Finlay got her moving toward the shattered window, cursing and encouraging her as necessary. A moment before, when he’d thought
she was dead, his first thought had been that he was finally free of her, but he couldn’t just stand by and watch her die, if only because he’d feel so guilty. Two Wolfe troops got in his way, and he cut them down almost without thinking. His mind was racing now, his body the finely tuned fighting machine of the Masked Gladiator. He manhandled Adrienne over to the gaping window, glanced down and then jumped out, taking Adrienne with him. They fell together for a heartstopping moment, and then slammed into the gravity sled hovering just below the window, abandoned by its troops.

Finlay turned his body so that it shielded Adrienne from the worst of the impact, but it was still enough to knock the breath out of her. He checked briefly for a pulse, grunted at how weak it was, and then scrambled over to the sled’s controls. He had to get her to a doctor fast, but he wasn’t sure where would be safe now. Campbell-dominated territories were undoubtably under Wolfe control by now. That only left the underground. Finlay got the sled moving and headed away from the tower at full speed. He’d seen his father die, and it occurred to him that he was the Campbell now. He didn’t give a damn. Gerald and William were dead, too, but he’d mourn them later. He looked back at Adrienne, but she was lost in her own world of shock and pain. He was alone, the last of the Campbells, with all hands turned against him. No other Clan would support him; the Families had no time for losers. So let Finlay die too now; that life was over. All that was left was the Gladiator, the underground … and Evangeline Shreck. That last thought calmed him, and he turned the sled in a new direction. Evangeline would help him and Adrienne. She had to.

Back in Tower Campbell, Valentine Wolfe fought on, the battle drugs singing in his veins as he cut down foe after foe. There didn’t seem as many as there had been before, but still he cut and hacked with bloody abandon, his scarlet mouth stretched in a death’s-head grin. And then hands grabbed his arms, holding him still despite all his efforts, and a familiar face loomed up before him. Valentine breathed harshly as his gaze cleared, and there was Daniel, standing a cautious distance away. He glared at Valentine.

“Are you back with us now, Valentine? Do you know what you’ve done?”

Valentine concentrated, and new chemicals ran through
his system, purging out the battle drugs. His mind cleared quickly, and he looked warily at Daniel. How much did his brother know? He slowly realized that the fighting was over, and that the men holding him were all wearing Wolfe emblems. They didn’t look at all pleased with him.

“All right,” he said calmly. “I’m back. What’s the situation, Daniel? We did win, I take it?”

“We won some time ago,” said Daniel. “The Campbells are dead or fled, and their men surrendered. But you were so out of your mind, you couldn’t tell. You’ve spent the last few minutes cutting down our own men!”

“Ah,” said Valentine. “Sorry about that. I got a bit carried away. What are our losses?”

“Apart from the men you just butchered?”

“I said I was sorry. Where’s Father?”

Daniels’ face suddenly crumpled as the anger went out of it, replaced by what seemed to Valentine to be honest grief. Daniel gestured harshly to the men holding Valentine, and they reluctantly released him. They didn’t move far away, though, and they kept their hands near their guns. Valentine ostentatiously sheathed his sword. Daniel gestured at the bodies lying scattered across the room and made his way slowly through them.

“Father is dead. We found him lying beside the body of the Campbell. They must have killed each other. All the Campbells are dead except Finlay, and possibly Adrienne. They got away on a gravity sled. Our people aren’t far behind them. Either way, Clan Campbell is broken forever.” He stopped and knelt beside the body of Jacob Wolfe. “He should never have come with us. He was getting too old for this, but he wouldn’t listen. He never listened. What are we going to tell Constance?”

“I’ll tell her,” said Valentine. “I’m the Wolfe now, regrettable though that may be.” He waited for Daniel to object, but all the strength seemed to have gone out of him, and he remained kneeling beside his dead father. Valentine turned away, and his gaze fell upon Razor. The Investigator still had his sword in his hand, but he was surrounded by men armed with disrupters. He didn’t look at all beaten, just outnumbered. Valentine moved across to him, carefully stepping over the bodies, and bowed courteously.”

“I congratulate you on your survival, Investigator. It would be a shame to lose such talents as yours.”

“David and I finally duelled him to a standstill,” said Kit SummerIsle. “Took everything we had, though.”

“You will both be rewarded,” said Valentine. “Clan Wolfe remembers its friends.” He looked back at Razor. “Be our friend, Investigator. Your fight here is over. Clan Campbell is broken and dispersed. You are free to join us, or leave, as you wish.”

Razor nodded once, sheathed his sword, and walked toward the door. Valentine gestured, and everyone fell back to give Razor plenty of room. He left and shut the door behind him, and everyone in the room relaxed a little. No one had really wanted to take on an Investigator again; not even Kid Death and the Deathstalker, both of whom had a sneaking suspicion Razor had really only surrendered because he saw the main fight was over. Valentine looked thoughtfully at the surviving Campbell troops and gestured at the door, and they filed out quickly before he changed his mind. Valentine smiled. He could have had them killed, but it was important to establish the new Wolfe as an honorable man, Besides, he might need to hire them someday, or others like them, and it never hurt to build up a little good will among the mercenary community.

Especially after cutting down some of his own men.

“You fought well, Valentine,” said Kit. “If a trifle indiscriminately, I have to say you did much better than your reputation led me to believe, given your … unusual lifestyle.”

Valentine smiled easily. “Battle drugs. The very latest, fresh off the military shelf. I’ve always believed there’s a chemical for every occasion.”

The young Deathstalker sniffed. “Drugs again. I might have known.”

He might have been going to say something more, but at that point he saw the look in Valentine’s mascaraed eyes and decided he’d said enough. For all the garish paint on his face, this new Valentine seemed altogether more forceful and self-assured. He also seemed a damn sight more dangerous. It was as though the vague, inconsequential dreamer they’d known up till now had been nothing but a mask, discarded now that it was no longer needed, to reveal the true face beneath. David Deathstalker lowered his eyes, unable to meet Valentine’s gaze. Kid Death studied the new Wolfe thoughtfully and said nothing. Valentine smiled and turned to his troops.

“You’ve done well. There will be bonuses for all of you. Now start clearing up. I want the bodies taken out, and the carpenters brought in. As from now, this is Tower Wolfe, and I want all the mess out of here and the windows replaced before tonight. I think I’m going to move in here. There’s a marvelous view.”