Authors: David Grimstone

Escape from Evil (6 page)

BOOK: Escape from Evil

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Olu nodded, and looked on nervously as Decimus sneaked deeper into the room. There was a brief moment of concern when Truli stopped snoring abruptly, but the danger soon passed and the hulking brute rolled onto his side.

Decimus moved over to the far wall and began to creep toward the corner. When he arrived beside the spiked chain, he crouched down and tried to lift it . . . but the thing weighed a ton.

“Olu!” he called, one eye on the sleeping giant. “I'm going to need some help.”

The other slave tiptoed into the room, knelt down beside him, and carefully took hold of the chain.

“Together,” Decimus muttered, and the pair began to lift the immense chain between them. They got as far as the bed when Truli suddenly rolled over and sat up.

Decimus started, and Olu gasped. They only just managed to hold onto the chain as, to their horror, the immense jailer climbed off his ragged bed and slammed across the floor toward them.

Frozen with fear, the two slaves looked on, powerless, as the ugly giant pulled a heavy-looking sword from a wooden barrel at the end of his bed. He advanced on the duo, raising the blade above him to strike them down.

“Move!” Decimus hissed, but Olu was absolutely rooted to the spot with fear.

The sword came down in a direct strike . . . and stopped inches from Olu's head.

The two slaves ducked to avoid the blow, and both of them gasped as the moonlight illuminated Truli's face. The jailer was fast asleep, but he was also preparing for another strike. Whatever enemy he was facing in the dreamlands, he seemed determined to overcome it.

Olu put all his strength into hoisting up his part of the chain. “Is heâ”

“Sleepwalking,” Decimus finished. “We need to get out of here, before he walks into something solid and wakes up for real.”

They hurried from the room, barely supporting the enormous chain between themâand made for the roof of the arena.

CHAPTER VI

THE DESCENT

D
ecimus hooked the end of the chain around one of several stones that adorned the circular roof of the stadium. He and Olu managed to haul the incredible bulk of the chain over the edge of the arena roof, but neither had considered the noise it might make as it unraveled. The resulting clatter was enough to wake half the surrounding town, not to mention the many inhabitants of the arena below.

Sure enough, several torches struck up in the darkness as the two slaves began to descend, pausing carefully between each section to ensure they didn't grab a handful of spikes by mistake. The distant sound of slamming doors signaled that the servants were now aware that something was happening, but Decimus and Olu were already more than three-quarters of the way down the chain.

“Drop!” Decimus cried, as the sound of the great portcullis rumbled nearby. “Now, Olu, While we've got a headstart!”

The slave lowered himself through two further links, then let go of the chain and plunged to the ground. He landed awkwardly, but seemed to be unharmed.

“It's not that far, and the ground is soft!”

Decimus released his grip on the link and dropped after his companion.

“The town,” he said, stumbling as he landed and quickly bursting into a sprint. “We need a place to hide.”

The two friends picked up their pace, and dashed off in the direction of Avellino.

Several hours later, in a palatial room at the top of a vast manor on the edge of Amalfi, two servants admitted trial-master Hrin to a private audience with Slavious Doom.

As the doors were closed behind him, the tall master moved into the center of the room and bowed low. He did not raise his head as he started to speak.

“My lord,” he began. “I have grave news to report.”

Slavious Doom, resplendent on a golden throne, didn't bother to rise in response to the statement. Instead, he yawned a little, removed the golden helm that adorned his head, and focused his eyes on the trial-master bowing before him.

“Do not raise your head until I give you permission to do so,” he said.

Hrin said nothing. He maintained his position perfectly, his ragged breath alone betraying him as a living creature.

Doom blinked only once. “Continue.” “Two slaves have escaped Arena Primus,” said the bowed master.

“I see. How, exactly?”

“Well, my lord, they . . . stole a spiked chain from the jailer's quartersâone used in the trialsâandâ”

“How clever.” Doom's voice was silky, almost snakelike. His lips split in a sickly smile. “It is no great surprise that a slave would escape eventually . . . even two. They must be incredibly resourceful.” He leaned forward on the throne. “You will find them, of course?”

“Of course, my lord.” Hrin paused. He was beginning to shake slightly. “But . . .”

“There is something else?”

“Yes, my lord. One of the escapees is a boy called Olu. The other is . . . that is . . . heâ”

“Well?”

“He is the boy you personally requested that we find, my lord: The one who the scriptures say will . . . retrieve The Sword.”

“Decimus Rex,” said Doom, slowly rising from his throne. The grand master drew a stout blade from a silver box beside him and, very slowly, progressed down the half dozen steps that separated the gleaming dais from the floor. “Decimus Rex . . . is . . . gone?”

“Yes, my lord,” Hrin confirmed, a bead of sweat forming on his brow as he finally dared to raise his head. “If I may remind Your Excellency, Master Mori and I did suggest he be quartered separately but y-y-you did specifically request he should be treated like all the othâ”

Hrin froze, his eyes wide and his smile a sinister mask.

For the briefest of seconds, nothing happened.

Then the trial-master's gaunt head slipped from his shoulders and rolled across the marble floor. The body collapsed after it.

Slavious Doom looked down at his handiwork and smiled. When he turned back to face his throne, a dark figure had detached itself from the shadows behind the dais and was standing mere feet away. It moved like a ghost, and was dressed from head to toe in a flowing black cloak.

“Decimus Rex has escaped us, Drin,” Doom growled, every hint of pleasantry draining from his voice. “He is in the company of a fellow slave. Find him, and bring him backâat all costs.” He ascended the dais and replaced his sword inside the silver box. “You may kill the other one,” he muttered.

STOWAWAY SLAVES
OUT NOW

When Decimus Rex and his friend Olu escape the dreaded Arena Primus, overlord Slavious Doom is furious and demands their immediate capture. A frantic and determined search follows. From the wild dogs running riot in the sewers to the soldiers scouring the towns above, it seems only a matter of time before they are caught. Can the pair evade Slavious Doom's dreaded servant, Drin Hain? Find out now in ...