Questing Knight(科幻战争)-第8章

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peasant　stagger　to　its　feet。　It　leapt　after　him；　hair　streaming　wildly　as　it　bounded　along　on　all　fours。　More
of　the　cannibalistic　inbreds　were　streaming　through　the　open　gates；　and　Chlod　saw　right　away　that　he　had
no　chance　of　escape　there。　He　angled　his　awkward；　limping　run　towards　the　inn　itself；　knowing　that　his
best　chance　of　survival　now　lay　with　Calard。
‘Master！’　he　screamed　as　he　ran。　‘Master！’
At　any　moment　he　expected　to　be　dragged　down；　but　he　made　it　across　the　courtyard　and　staggered
up　onto　the　inn’s　covered　stoop；　breathing　hard。　He　was　just　feet　from　the　door　when　a　weight　landed　on
his　back；　bearing　him　to　the　ground。　The　air　exploded　from　his　lungs　and　he　lost　his　grip　on　his　spiked
maul；　which　clattered　out　of　reach。
He　was　pinned　to　the　ground；　and　though　he　fought　like　a　wild　animal；　he　could　not　dislodge　the
hissing　peasant。　Bony　hands　grasped　his　skull；　and　he　felt　nails　biting　deep　into　his　scalp。　He　screamed
wordlessly；　neck　muscles　straining　to　resist　as　his　head　was　lifted　high；　then　slammed　down　with　brutal
force。　White　hot　pain　blossomed。　Dazed；　Chlod　registered　his　head　being　lifted　again。　In　moments；　his
skull　would　be　pulverised；　his　brain　matter　splattered　across　the　stoop。
Blinking　heavily；　unable　to　focus；　he　vaguely　saw　the　door　to　the　inn　swing　open　before　him。　He　saw
a　shadow　emerge；　and　a　flash　of　silver。
Calard　took　the　peasant’s　head　off　with　a　double…handed　sweep　of　his　broadsword。　The　headless
corpse　slumped　forwards　over　Chlod；　blood　pumping　from　its　neck。
‘Up！’　shouted　Calard；　grabbing　Chlod　by　back　of　his　flea…ridden　tunic　and　dragging　him　to　his　feet。
His　manservant’s　legs　were　unsteady；　unable　yet　to　support　his　weight；　and　he　flopped　back　to　the
ground；　struggling　to　focus。　Blood　was　dripping　from　his　forehead。　Swearing；　Calard　adjusted　his　grip　on
his　manservant；　then　hurled　him　bodily　through　the　door　of　the　inn。　He　kicked　the　club　through　after　him；
then　spun　back　to　face　the　courtyard　as　three　rabid　peasants　hurled　themselves　at　him。
He　cut　the　first　down　with　a　heavy　blow　that　shattered　its　ribcage；　and　sliced　the　second　from　groin
to　sternum　with　the　return　sweep。　The　third　leapt　on　him；　scratching　and　biting；　but　he　threw　it　off；
sending　it　crashing　into　the　wall　of　the　inn。　It　dropped　to　its　knees；　and　before　it　could　recover　Calard
stepped　in　close　and　brought　the　pommel　of　his　sword　down　onto　its　head；　killing　it　instantly。
Seeing　dozens　of　the　creatures　swarming　across　the　courtyard　towards　him；　Calard　stepped　back
inside　the　inn　and　slammed　the　door　shut。　He　threw　his　weight　against　it。
‘Chlod；　the　locks！’
A　heavy　impact　struck　the　door；　almost　dislodging　Calard。　He　gritted　his　teeth　as　his　heels　began
sliding　across　the　floor。　The　door　was　forced　open　a　fraction；　and　claw…like　hands　reached　around　the
edge。
Chlod　picked　up　his　spiked　cudgel　from　the　floor　and　bashed　at　the　clutching　hands；　breaking　bones

and　crushing　fingers。
The　door　slammed　shut　and　Chlod　slid　first　the　upper　lock　home；　then　the　lower　one。　Breathing　hard；
Calard　stepped　away　from　the　door；　his　sword　levelled　towards　it。　It　shook　violently；　but　held。
‘What　in　Morr’s　name　is　going　on？’　came　a　slurred　a　voice。　Calard　looked　over　his　shoulder　to　see
one　of　Merovech’s　knights　stumbling　down　the　stairs；　a　drawn　blade　in　his　hands。　He　was　clearly　still　the
worse　for　wear　from　the　night’s　drinking；　and　he　was　followed　by　several　of　his　comrades；　all　in　various
stages　of　dishevelment。　Other　guests　of　the　inn　were　emerging　from　their　rooms；　their　faces　drawn　and
pale。
‘We　are　besieged；’　said　Calard。
The　banging　at　the　door　subsided；　and　Calard　edged　towards　it；　listening　intently。
‘How　did　they　get　into　the　compound？’　said　one　of　the　knights。
‘Someone　let　them　in；　most　likely；’　said　Calard；　glancing　around。　‘The　innkeeper　would　be　my　guess。
’
‘What？’　said　a　voice。　‘Why　would　you　say　that？’
‘Do　you　see　him　here；　or　any　of　his　staff？’　said　Calard；　gesturing　around　him。　‘They　are　probably　all
holed　up　in　the　gatehouse。’
‘The　bastard’s　sold　us　out　to　Mortis；’　growled　one　of　Merovech’s　knights。　At　mention　of　the　name；
Chlod　whimpered。
Several　of　the　other　guests　began　to　speak　at　once；　their　voices　rising　in　panic。
‘Quiet；’　snapped　Calard。
In　the　ensuing　silence；　they　could　all　hear　shuffling　around　the　exterior　of　the　inn。　There　were　scuffling
noises　at　the　walls；　and　Calard　looked　up。
‘They　are　going　for　the　second　floor　windows；’　shouted　someone；　and　Calard　quickly　looked　around
him。　There　were　over　half　a　dozen　armed　men　in　the　main　room　of　the　inn　now。
‘You　three；’　he　said；　jabbing　a　finger　a　cluster　of　men　holding　weapons。　‘Get　upstairs　and　barricade
the　windows。’
‘I’ll　be　damned　if　I　take　orders　from–’　snarled　one　of　them；　but　Calard　cut　him　off。
‘Do　it！’　he　thundered。　The　man　looked　like　he　was　going　to　argue；　but　the　others　saw　sense　in　Calard
’s　words；　and　hurried　up　the　stairs。　Calard　gestured　towards　other　men　with　his　sword。　‘Get　those　tables
on　their　sides　to　block　the　windows！　You　and　you；　help　me　slide　this　one　in　front　of　the　door！’
Unseen　by　Calard；　Raben　staggered　unsteadily　down　the　stairs　into　the　common　room；　one　hand
pressed　to　his　temple。　He　had　a　sword　in　his　hand；　and　his　eyes　burned　with　cold　fury。　He　moved
purposefully　towards　Calard　as　he　heaved　at　a　heavy　oak　table；　positioning　it　to　block　the　front　door。
A　shuttered　window　suddenly　exploded　inwards　amid　a　shower　of　splinters；　and　feral　peasants　began
clawing　their　way　through；　howling　and　braying　like　demented　madmen。　A　table　propped　against　another
window　was　shoved　aside；　and　more　of　the　cannibalistic　rabble　began　clambering　inside。
‘For　the　Lady！’
Calard　leapt　forwards　and　brought　his　sword　down　on　the　head　of　the　first　peasant　to　scramble
through；　cleaving　its　skull　down　to　the　teeth；　spraying　blood。
He　smashed　another　peasant　back　with　the　pommel　of　his　sword；　but　dozens　more　were　straining　to
get　in。　He　could　hear　banging　from　upstairs；　but　that　was　soon　drowned　out　by　shouting；　the　clash　of
weapons　and　the　sickly　sound　of　blades　hacking　into　flesh　and　bone。
Hands　clawed　for　him　and　he　stepped　swiftly　away　from　the　door；　slashing　with　his　sword。　A　clutch

of　fingers　dropped　to　the　floor；　twitching。
Chlod　backed　off；　looking　around　frantically　for　an　escape　route。　He　ran　behind　the　bar　and　tugged
at　the　cellar　door；　but　he　could　not　lift　it。
The　front　door　was　ripped　off　its　hinges　and　tossed　aside　suddenly；　and　a　flood　of　peasants　streamed
in；　scrambling　over　the　table　slid　up　against　it。　Some　carried　crude　clubs　and　rusted　farm　implements；
while　others　seemed　intent　on　killing　with　nothing　more　than　tooth　and　claw。
Chlod　dropped　to　the　floor　and　crawled　under　the　bar；　trying　to　make　himself　as　inconspicuous　as
possible。
Calard　found　himself　fighting　side　by　side　with　Raben　and　two　other　men。　Despite　the　knock　Calard
had　given　him；　the　outcast　knight　fought　with　poise　and　control。　He　was　fast　and　deadly；　his　timing
impeccable。　Calard　was　careful　not　to　turn　his　back　on　him。
The　devolved　peasants　came　on　like　a　living　tide；　scrabbling　over　tables　and　sending　chairs　flying；
forcing　Calard　and　Raben　back　against　the　bar。　For　every　one　of　their　number　that　was　cut　down；　two
more　squeezed　through　the　windows　and　clambered　through　the　gaping　door。
The　room　was　filled　with　their　stink；　a　mixture　of　sweat；　rotting　meat　and　wet　soil。
It　was　not　long　before　they　started　to　attack　down　the　inn’s　stairs。
‘They’ve　taken　the　upper　floor；’　said　Calard。
One　of　Raben’s　knights　was　knocked　to　the　ground　and　brained　with　what　looked　like　a　human
thigh…bone。
‘This　is　hopeless；’　growled　Raben。　‘There　are　too　many　of　them！’
‘I　have　no　intention　of　dying　here；’　said　Calard；　kicking　a　twitching　corpse　off　his　blade。　‘The　Lady　is
with　me。’
Raben　ran　another　peasant　through；　then　spat　derisively。　‘The　Lady　forsook　this　place　long　ago。’
One　by　one；　the　inn’s　defenders　were　dragged　down；　their　heads　smashed　in　with　sticks　and　their
throats　ripped　out　with　blood…stained　teeth。　The　peasants　descended　on　them　like　starved　beasts；　and
screams　rang　out　from　those　not　yet　dead　when　the　cannibals　began　their　gory　feast。
‘There　must　be　another　way　out；’　shouted　Calard；　now　fighting　back　to　back　with　Raben。　The　notion
of　fleeing　from　mere　peasants　wrenched　at　his　sense　of　pride；　but　it　would　not　serve　the　Lady’s　purpose
if　he　died　here。
Calard　was　wielding　his　bastard　sword　in　one　hand　now；　and　had　drawn　the　Sword　of　Garamont
with　his　other。
A　screeching；　near　naked　peasant　leapt　at　Calard　from　atop　the　bar；　its　body　scrawny　and
malnourished。　Calard　cut　it　down　in　midair；　and　it　fell　in　a　bloody　heap　to　the　floor。　Calard　glanced
around　him；　getting　a　sense　of　their　position　within　the　common　room。
‘The　kitchen；’　he　said；　indicating　towards　it　with　a　nod。　‘That’s　our　best　chance。　There　must　be　a
back　door。’
Both　Calard　and　Raben　were　splattered　with　blood；　and　while　most　of　it　was　not　their　own；　neither
man　was　uninjured。　Raben　risked　a　quick　glance　back　towards　the　kitchen。　It　was　at　least　ten　yards
away；　and　they　were　now　completely　surrounded。
‘We　won’t　make　it；’　said　Raben。