robert Charrette - Arthur 02 - A King Beneath the Mountain by Robert N. Charrette Page B

more than once on the street. There had been times he'd regretted that the stick was blunt, but not often. He hoped this wasn't going to be one of those times.
    Flake turned when John was four meters away, warned by some premonition, certainly not by any sound John had made. The intruder's eyes went round as he saw John; he made a strangled sound, but he didn't yell. That suited John. Flake jumped away and John's first strike missed.
    Seeing John extended in his lunge, Flake found some nerve and came after him. John recovered to stance with a speed that seemed to baffle Flake rather than serve as the warning it was. Flake charged forward, swinging a wide, slow roundhouse punch. John grasped his stick at both ends and sidestepped outside the blow. Using the stick as a baton, he directed Flake's punch away before shifting his grip and swinging the bronze weight down along Flake's temple. The man went down like a sack of laundry.
    John could have put the blow on the top of the man's head and probably killed him, but he hadn't. There were still some questions John wanted answered. A concussed villain was a villain who might answer some of them, but a dead one wouldn't have anything at all to say; Flake didn't seem to be the sort who would be able to avoid answering questions.
    A loud noise, halfway between a squeak and a shout, echoed through the building. Briefly. The sound cut off almost as soon as it began. Startled by its strangeness, John turned to look for its source. It had seemed to come from somewhere near the front entrance.
    Had he been the only one to hear it?
    "Behind you, John!"
    Faye's warning was timely. John turned to see Roscoe rushing him, something dark and heavy-looking in the man's hand. Acting on reflex, John met him with a stop thrust, the narrow tip of the stick taking Roscoe in the solar plexus. Breath whooshed out of the intruder and he doubled over, gasping. If John had been armed with a sword, Roscoe would have been spitted.
    John brought the stick down on him. There was a cracking sound and the man collapsed. John found himself holding only the weighted end of his broken slick. He hadn't thought he'd hit Roscoe very hard. John bent down to see if the man was still breathing.
    He was, raggedly. That didn't seem good.
    "You did what you had to do, John."
    Had he? He looked around for the object that Roscoe had carried into the fight. He found himself hoping that it was something lethal. He saw the thing; it was a sap. The two men had wanted him alive. Was it right to kill one of them for that? "You think he'll be all right?"
    "He's a human, John. They're not very resilient. The one at the front door wasn't."
    The one at the front door wasn't what? John decided he didn't want to know. "I don't want him to die."
    "He had no business being here," Faye said matter-of-factly.
    "Isn't that a little extreme?"
    His answer was a creaking noise that he recognized as the door to the loading dock. The woman. He'd forgotten about her. She must have heard some of the noise and come to investigate. He didn't want any more trouble. Maybe she'd see how things stood and he could bluff her off. He rose, hoping to take advantage of his height and look impressive.
    "You're the only one left," he said, as she barreled out of the deep shadows near the door. "Best you just leave."
    She didn't stop, but she slowed down, her rush transforming into a strangely casual stroll. She took in the sprawled bodies of her fellows without any sign of alarm. She spoke as casually as she walked.
    "Looks like ya caught Roscoe and the Flake by surprise. I'm not so easy."
    "Don't be so sure."
    Without a pause she said, "Yer a little short."
    "Huh?"
    She nodded at the splintered stump of the defense stick that he still held clenched in his hand. "Ya ain't got what ya used ta have, tall, pale, and comely. It'll take a bigger tool than you've got ta impress me."
    Tall, pale, and comely? He'd heard that phrase before. Could it be? He took a closer