Gangs of Antares Read Online Free PDF

flung dagger went ‘zip!’ past his head as he tried to sit up. Traiky means Lucky, and surely Neap was most fortunate in that the dagger missed his polsim head and even more lucky, immeasurably so, when we burst into the room and saw just who had thrown him out.
    Two of our men lay unconscious where they had been thrown into a corner, and a third was shaking like a leaf, hands in front of him empty and his sword tossed down at his feet.
    The four Chuliks had evidently been playing one of their obscure Chulik games, for dice and cards strewed a small table, wine and snacks stood ready to hand and they’d been enjoying themselves in ways strange to those who were not Chuliks.
    The four Yellow-tuskers glared at us with their round black eyes showing annoyance. They had not drawn weapons. Their smooth oily yellow faces glistened in the lamplight. Apart from them and our unfortunate fellows there was no one else in the gaming room.
    Ranaj bellowed a curse and then: “We apologize for intruding. We have no quarrel with you — unless you know the whereabouts of the young prince.” He sounded wrought up and dangerous.
    Before the Chuliks could answer, a burst of light slashed into the room from the window, half-blinding us. An enormous thunder clap followed so rapidly that the storm must be directly above us.
    I felt a force seize me up. The window was as black as a Herrelldrin Hell. That force lifted me and hurled me straight at the window. Glass and wood smashed away as I hurtled through. A crazy glimpse of Fweygo flying at my side and a blurred impression of darkness beneath sped away. Surrounded by a roaring maelstrom I went flying through thin air.
    No rain spattered me. I could see nothing apart from blackness. Over and over I flew, suspended, deafened, exasperated.
    My feet hit hard marble. I staggered forward and my sight cleared. Fweygo spluttered at my side. We stood in a corridor of Nandisha’s palace. Directly before us the princess struggled in the grip of two hefty Brokelsh, all hairy and armored. A Rapa swished his sword about facing — facing the cause of our supernatural flight through some other plane of existence.
    Serinka, Ranaj’s numim wife, lay on the floor with a dribble of blood from the corner of her mouth. She stared up with horrified eyes, staring at her twins. Young Rofi and Rolan, slender daggers in their fists, were poised to hurl themselves upon the despoilers of their mother.
    “So that’s it!” grated Fweygo.
    In the next instant the numim twins who were the charges given into our protection by the Star Lords would rush in to protect their mother and Princess Nandisha, and these fine bully boys would cut them down without mercy.

Chapter four
    Fweygo just went bull-headed for the Rapa. The fellow was one of those vulture-headed Rapas, blackly-feathered. His beaked face shocked in startlement, and no wonder. Suddenly, apparently from nowhere, two fighting men blocked him from carrying out this easy assignment. Fweygo roared in, his sword a bar of reflected light in the corridor lamps’ glow.
    That left the two Brokelsh to me. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that Fweygo, a glorious golden Kildoi, would deal with the Rapa in extremely short order, and that was the more important of the two fights here.
    Nandisha kept up her shrieking. “Help me! Help!”
    There was just time to hear Fweygo bellow: “Rofi! Rolan! Stand out of the way — now!” Then I gave the nearest Brokelsh a clout over the head with the steel guarded hilt of the left hand dagger. He reeled away but did not fall. The other Brokelsh let go of the princess who incontinently collapsed. Her screaming died away to a low moaning as she cowered on the patterned marble.
    The Brokelsh used a straight sword, the braxter of Balintol, and he was still surprised enough at our sudden arrival to be slow in his reactions. I should have spitted him there and then; but Nandisha, still moaning: “Help! Oh, Help me!” twined