Vol.6, Ch.3, P.11
The fourth and highest floor—that was whither the soot-steel had been taken, from what I’d seen last of the transporters. But to chase after it now and fly to the summit, as it were, would but send me over the edge and into the viper-pit. And that wouldn’t do at all. No, better I plumbed this second level and saw what I could do hence. Besides, it was relatively empty up here, thanks to the disturbances downstairs. But I wasn’t about to get careless; there in a reading chamber was I hid, gasping yet from the hot pursuit, and pressing an ear against the wall.
“…ere’s he gone…!? Up…!?”
“…Not so fast…! Get down first… …douse the fires…! …worry ’bout barring the passages later…!”
So echoed the barkings out in the halls; and so receded the sound of angry, stamping feet. Albeit for the time being, that was another wild goose chase won—a victory owed to the complexity and too-many rooms of this studitōrium. Indeed, given chance and circumstance, even as burly a body as mine could be stealthy as a thief’s.
“Still… things’re only getting started,” I tempered myself. Leaving the doorway wall, I went across the chamber and peered out through a window. In view was the façade of another building, and below spanned an alleyway, both of which hosted: “…No hostiles, far as I can tell.”
That said, things could change at any moment. Time was against me. And so working quickly, I swung open the window, climbed out, and grabbed at a downspout running along hard-by. Now that the enemy knew I was amongst them, any and all stairwells were evil to take. Not that scaling a downspout was any smarter a choice, but I saw no other way.
Thankfully, all of Merkulov was sturdily built, downspout included. This one in hand had got metal fittings driven fast into the walls; not so easily would it buckle under weight. But as though to betray that trust, the downspout groaned as soon as I began to scale it. Well, none too surprising. It was just a downspout, after all, and I wasn’t exactly the lightest bloke to bear, either. No; the thing might very well fail and take me down along with it, at this rate.
Dreading that, I very warily ascended the spout, all the while mitigating as much of my weight as I could. And ever as I did, my mind went back to the sacking of Hensen, when Karl and company had beaten me senseless and sent me down a well to swim. I’d escaped that plight, of course, time being on my side to slowly scale the well’s walls. But things were different here. Enemies were on the hunt; a bad turn, and I could have an arrow sticking through my spine before I knew it. The very thought made my back go cold; I had to take care—and be quick.
“Engh…!” I moaned. My wound was blaring again; it relished little this precarious climb. And as though to echo it—brack! br-brack!—went the downspout, as its fittings began to unmoor. The burden had proved too much!
At once, I glanced upwards. I had to get myself elsewhere right this moment, anywhere at all, even if it meant a leap of faith. And above me was just the spot: a window on the third floor. Also to the left it was, and a little far besides, but not impossibly so.
Rearing back, I plied my arms and hoisted myself with sudden energy. Straightway, the downspout bent loose, threatening to murder my momentum. But just as it did, I kicked and jumped aslant from the wall. Being of wood and plaster, it provided some purchase for my soles, lengthening my leap. And thrusting up my arms desperately, I caught the lower ledge of the window’s frame. Only, it proved more “lip” than “ledge”—as I found myself hanging barely by just the tips of my fingertips.
This blasted window! It was small, with a sill sticking out no more than half a digitus. I liked this not one bit. All of my weight, borne upon a set of little joints? Daunted by the thought, I hauled myself up to somehow try and break through the window, and escape this pinch as soon as possible. But I stopped short, for voices were coming from it—voices too close by for comfort.
“…wfully blaring down there… …ould we send out our lads…?”
“…Nay… …best not…”
Two men there were. Two men chewing the fat. But thankfully, I wasn’t the topic. The general commotion deeper within seemed to have deafened them to the noise I’d been making out here. But daring not to tempt the fates, I bit down, bated my breathing, and stayed hanging on. Indeed, despite my plight, I had to hear what these conspirators’ve got to say; any crumb of information was as a nugget of gold, at this point.
“…What… …just sit tight, then…?”
“…Aye… …chaos… …only worsen anyways if we…”
“…Shame… …should like to cut down that sicarius… …ever he is…”
“…You and I both…”
What’s that? “Cut down the sicarius”? Well, I certainly had something to say about that. But alas, my fingertips—they were trembling terribly. I could feel them going cold and white. Worse still, there was no moving hence. Another downspout ran nearby, but not so near enough to reach whence I was.
Desperate, I peered up again. There! above the window frame: a fissure in the infill. It wasn’t large by any measure; just scarce enough for a hand to hold, I reckoned. Rub was, I must pass over the window itself to gain it. And with its panes of glass, never mind about being spotted—just the sudden shadow I cast would betray me to the men inside. Choiceless, I hung and eavesdropped on.
“…Well… …he’s a dead rat, at any rate… …once… …black sword’s safe in our…”
“…And the floor ’bove… …fortified withal…”
“…That’s the plan…”
Nothing new there. Nothing. Splendid. Here I was, grinding my teeth and hanging on by a veritable thread, and what’s the reward? Come on, give me something! Anything!
“…But… …be better to send the thing… …central command…?”
“…Too far… …Bringing it hither… …big enough a bother already… …Besides… …got hostiles about… …Lads won’t make it… …west college without…”
Central command? At the west college? Was that whence they’d based themselves? If so, then like as not, this studitōrium was but a command post for their field leaders. But that was fine enough; though I wouldn’t find the mastermind here, I would the soot-steel, at the least.
“…And… …our eminence… …come, as well… …Can’t… …bad impression…”
“…Never met him ’fore… …from the Salvators…?”
“…Nay, not from what I… …That reminds me… …seen him once… …the 4th Order, or some… …if memory serves…”
“…Must be a mighty man…”
“…‘Mighty’… …too meek a word for one as he…”
There we are. That’s more like it. Something to burn into memory, finally. But now there’s another rub: these fellows seemed all too content to continue sitting and chatting, whilst my fingers were losing feeling fast.
“…Anyway… …how… …the boys faring…”
“…Fine enough, looks like…”
“…If aught does break out… …at a stairway somewhere, I’ll warrant…”
And at that moment, I realised the voices to be sounding a mite more distant. From what words I could pick out, the men had got off their bottoms to go have a look outside. Carefully and excruciatingly, I strained my fingers to bring my body up, and then had a peep through the glass.
It was but a storeroom inside. No wonder the window was so plain and paltry. But there, far across the room, were the two men thrusting their faces out into the hallway, tasting the air for the state of affairs. In other words, they were looking the other way, and this was my chance.
Prying my own face from the window, I once again relaxed and let my arms stretch full. Then, filling my lungs and rallying all my might, I jerked them in, sending myself sailing up with just the support of my fingers. Fwohff! went my body as it passed over the window. But risking nothing, I pulled in and put my feet upon the lintel just as my right hand caught the crack above it; it wouldn’t do to leave my legs dangling over the windows, now would it?
But wasting no time, I swung myself like a pendulum and leapt leftwards, whence ran the other downspout. And just as I neared it, I kicked strongly off from its fittings. This meant another broken downspout—but also a higher jump, one that whisked me all the way up to a fourth floor window. And being more ornate, this one had a proper sill to snatch. And snatch I did, and then I hung there for a moment, listening.
No voices so far. Bringing my face up, I risked a peep inside. No enemies therein, either. Clambering up, I rattled and lifted the window open, and this time truly threw myself inside.
“Hagh… haahh…” gasped and panted I upon my knee, after a none-too-delicate landing. My fingers were all fully numb. My brows were sweating a waterfall. And after all the tension and tiredness, my breaths were as fire. But I’d done it: I’d infiltrated the fourth and final floor.
For a while, I stayed there catching my breath, and remembering that even amongst animals is the human climber considered exemplary. In running and leaping do we lag behind our beastly betters, certainly; but by rallying his four limbs can a man master wall, tree, and cliff—a merit not to be dismissed, it was said, and withal something I admit left me a mite smug when I’d learnt of it of late. Rather childish, I know, to measure myself against animals and make merry upon emerging the better. Still, human potential ought be praised at every opportunity; it’s what got me up this wall, after all.
And as I watched my sweat pelt and pool upon the floor, the weight of my plight piled on my shoulders asudden. That this day should find me in such dire straits, being alone, injured, swordless, and surrounded—and not least scraping through by the skin of my teeth at every turn. I could almost hear Sig mocking me for not dragging him along. Fair enough; only, this rebel knew a thing or three about fighting alone. I daresay even absent sword and succour, I was still a force to be reckoned with—a fact I’d happily forgotten about of late, thanks to my newfound friends. But nay, for them, and for all of us:
“I can’t lose this now. I won’t,” declared I to the empty room, as I wiped my brow and got back on my feet.
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