Read Online Demontech: Onslaught by David Sherman - Free Book Online

old man moving in a manner such as an old man might imagine soldiers move when they were on a secret patrol. Then he realized the old man looked as though at one time he might actually have known how to move unobserved. He wondered about that.
    Haft was wondering the same thing. He said, “Do you think he’s leading us into a trap?”
    Spinner shrugged. “It could be. But we can’t stay here. If he’s telling the truth, he’s our best hope of getting out.”
    Still, they hesitated to follow him. Until they heard the tramp of marching feet approaching on the military lane.
    “That sounds like your sergeant coming back with a squad to relieve you,” Spinner said.
    “Yes it does,” Haft agreed.
    They quickly followed the old man into the depths of the alley. They walked erect and swung their weapons casually, but were ready for action, just in case the old man was collaborating with the enemy—or in case the approaching soldiers entered the alley before they were out of sight. Just as they reached the end and ducked into a barely shoulder-wide passage the old man had disappeared into, they heard the squad come to a halt. A sergeant barked commands, and the sounds of running feet told Spinner he’d ordered them to secure the building.
    They had to duck and weave and sidle as the old man led them through a warren of alleys that were often little more than narrow spaces between buildings and garden walls. They darted across streets and thoroughfares when no one was looking their way. As he clambered and hopped over obstructions in his path, the old man proved far more agile than his wizened appearance suggested. The deeper they went into the maze, the more certain Spinner and Haft were that the old man was exactly what he said—someone hoping to be rescued from the Jokapcul invaders—and they relaxed their vigilance. It wasn’t long, though they had become hopelessly lost, before the old man disappeared into a doorway they couldn’t see. They groped blindly for a few seconds, found the opening and ducked through it themselves. A door thunked shut behind them and light suddenly flared up.
    The old man, his body still bent, his grin still wide, rubbed his hands in glee.
    He cackled. “They’ll never find you here,” he said. “The only way to know this place exists is to come the way I led you, and no one can do that unless he knows the way, and there are few who do. No one will show them the way. You’ll be safe here until night, and then I’ll show you a way out of the city.” In the light of the room, he was able to see Haft’s axe clearly for the first time. He stared at it for a long moment, then drew himself fully erect, into a surprisingly proper military posture of attention. His grin disappeared and his hands stopped washing themselves.
    “My lord,” the old man said in a firm voice, “I have not seen the rampant eagle in many years. I did not know anyone still wielded such a weapon. I know if the rampant eagle is nigh, the invaders will soon be driven from this fair city.” He gave Haft a courtly bow.
    Haft looked at him, puzzled. He glanced at the eagle on the face of his axe, then looked at Spinner. Spinner was looking back, just as puzzled.
    Haft cleared his throat. “Yes. It will happen soon. Perhaps sooner than the enemy thinks.” He didn’t think he sounded very convincing.
    The old man looked deeply into his eyes, a touch of uncertainty in his own, but didn’t comment on Haft’s tone. Instead he asked, “Have you had food?”
    Haft’s stomach growled—they hadn’t eaten since the previous night’s dinner.
    “You wait here, I’ll bring food.” The old man opened the door a crack and flitted through, shutting it securely behind him.
    “What was that about your axe?” Spinner asked. “The old man thinks the engraving on it means something special.”
    Haft held it out and looked carefully at the eagle on the blade. He shook his head. “I don’t know. It hung over the mantel