The Rebels' Assault Read Free

and watched as their captors struggled at the base of the ladder, the big brute shoving his smaller colleague aside at the last minute.
    A roar of laughter from the slaves drew contemptuous glares from both men before the big brute gained the advantage and climbed up toward the deck.
    His companion snarled after him, but sensibly waited a few seconds before giving pursuit.
    When both slavers had crawled out of view, slamming the trapdoor behind them, and the noise above become an unbearable din, a second boy appeared. This one was carrying a heavy ring of iron keys that looked all too familiar.
    A sudden excitement washed through the room as Decimus Rex set to work on the end of the line, casting chain after chain to the floor . . . and giving forty bruised and bleeding slaves their freedom.

    Olu scampered across the deck, spotting a short plank of mostly rotted wood that was propped against a barrel, and snatched it up as he ran. When he was halfway across the deck, he suddenly took a detour and dashed for a sturdy-looking rope ladder that was secured to the mast.
    As crewmen all over the ship were alerted by the cries of the pursuing slavers, Olu magnified the chaos by screaming at the top of his lungs and slamming the wooden plank against the mast. Within seconds, he had the attention of every man on the Caveat , including the captain, who had emerged, blinking, from his cabin.
    Olu took one sweeping glance at the attention his handiwork had drawn, and then he shot up the rope ladder, moving so fast that two of the crew actually ran into each other in an attempt to catch him.
    â€œGet him!” the captain thundered, striding over the deck as the crew of the Caveat scattered around him. “Dead or alive, I want that boy brought DOWN!”
    Olu climbed higher, reaching the first platform before peering down to see who was following him. It seemed that most of the crew had an issue with heights; only the oily, one-eyed pirate from the slave deck had followed him up the ladder. The little man was surprisingly quick, too. He was already halfway up, a dagger pressed firmly between his teeth.
    â€œIf you don’t bring that boy down here,” the captain yelled from the deck, “you needn’t bother coming down yourself!”
    Olu looked up at the next platform, and down at his frantic pursuer.
    Come on, Decimus, he thought. I’m not like you—I can’t do this stuff all on my own . . .
    Then a roar went up from below . . . and the hatch to the slave deck exploded outward.

CHAPTER III
    WAR!
    A crowd of more than a hundred merchants gathered in the courtyard of the Suvius Tower. A large, flat scaffold had been erected, supporting a grand stage that was overlooked by a balcony that jutted from the tower like a great jaw. Standing on the balcony, surveying the crowd, were Slavious Doom and Drin Hain, deep in conversation.

    A rumor had started among the merchants that Doom had only graced the event with his presence because he had been assured by Hain that the planned executions would draw out the escaped slaves whose faces adorned so many wanted posters across Campania. One thing was certain: An air of excitement was swirling among the growing crowd, eager to see the promised executions.
    In the highest room of the Suvius Tower, Ruma stared through a large, barred window at the drama unfolding below. The crowd looked like a hive of insects swarming before a great mound. Once again, Ruma was reminded just how high the tower stretched.
    â€œIt practically pierces the clouds,” he said aloud, “ . . . and, sometime in the next hour, I’m going to be thrown from the top of it. How LUCKY am I?”
    â€œLuckier than me,” Argon snarled, practically spitting the words out. “At least you can avoid being ripped apart by—what was it?—oh yes: lions, crocodiles, or snakes. Only, I don’t get to know which ones until I actually drop into their lair.” He kicked at the