Kingmaker's Sword (Rune Blades of Celi) Read Free Page B

polishing, that fit reasonably well.
    Pleased, he dressed quickly. The clothing was loose in the waist and a little short in the arms and legs, but it would do. A short length of line wrapped twice around his waist served as a belt to keep the breeks from falling around his ankles.
    Fumbling in the dark along the shelf next to the huge wash tubs, Mouse found a small leather bag containing flint, steel and tinder, and shoved it into his shirt. He nearly knocked over a lamp as he groped further along the shelf, but snatched it up in time to prevent spilling the oil.
    He ran across the yard to the barracks, his belly quivering in excitement and rage. The muscles of his legs and back ached and burned at the exertion, but he did not stop running until he came to the wall of the barracks. Except for the two guards at the front gate, and the few who stood guard within the main house, all the guards would now be asleep in the barracks. Mouse dropped to one knee and pulled the flint and steel from his shirt.
    The barracks was a long, low building, built of timber rather than stone. Within, rows of bunks lined the walls, providing little privacy for the guards, but far more comfort than afforded by the slave quarters only a short distance away. The roof was thatch, and dry after a long, hot summer.
    Mouse’s hands shook so badly, he could not strike a spark from the flint. He sat back on his heels, rubbed his hands against his thighs and clenched them into fists for a moment. Coldly, deliberately, he closed his eyes and thought about Rossah lying on the dunghill, discarded like a broken ewer. He thought about how her warm, silken flesh had taught him the glory of all the ways a man and a woman fit so delightfully together. She had given him the only love he had ever known, and in return, he had eagerly and joyously given her all of his. He thought about how she had screamed and screamed and screamed at the brutal use the guards had made of her body before Drakon released her to death.
    It was enough. Calm and steady now, he struck flame to the tinder and lit the lamp. He waited with patience until the wick caught fully and burned well. Then he stepped back and tossed the lamp up into the thatch.
    The thatch caught immediately. At first, only a small flame flickered in the straw and reeds, but as the oil spilled out of the lamp, the fire spread, slowly at first, then more quickly as it grew. The slight breeze fanned it as it fed on the dry thatch. Mouse heard a loud whuf , and suddenly the whole roof exploded in one huge, bright burst of flame. Seconds later, the ancient, dry timber caught, and flame engulfed the whole building.
    Mouse ran back and ducked behind the laundry shed. The door of the barracks burst open and two or three half-naked guards stumbled out as the first startled shouts rose into the stillness of the night. Moments later, a man staggered out into the yard, his clothing burning like a torch. His bubbling screams rang loud even over the roar of the flames as he fell and rolled feebly in the dirt.
    Mouse watched in grim satisfaction. “Burn, you louse-infested sons of whores and vermin,” he muttered. “Burn and die in agony, and may maggots feast in your charred flesh. Hellas take your black souls.”
    The roar of the fire and the shrieks of the dying guards roused the house servants and the slaves. Pandemonium erupted in the yard as men began running out to see what was wrong. Lights appeared in the windows of the manse. Lord Mendor leaned out of an upper window, shouting orders at the running figures in the yard.
    “Come down,” Mouse whispered fiercely, the strength of his need knotting his fists. “Come down so I can kill you. You and that slimy maggot you call a son.”
    But Mendor remained at the window, shouting orders; he did not come down.
    Mouse recognized the two guards from the front gates trying to organize a bucket brigade to douse the blazing barracks. Watching the disorganized confusion in the