Chapter 27

"Is there another way out of here?" Ishmael asked the guide in a hurried voice.

The sound of footsteps slapping against stone filled the air. The sound was growing closer by the second. There were at least four or more people rushing down the steps that led from above to the dungeon where Pedro and the others stood listening. With the sound of footsteps came the muffled voices of men whispering back and forth between each other. Their voices carried and it was clear that the men were annoyed. There was also the sound of metal banging off of stone. That suggested that the men were armed.

"There is a way," the guide gasped in reply. As he spoke he glanced over his shoulder and back into the dungeon. "There's a second exit on the far side of the cells that will lead up towards the great hall. We could get out that way."

"If we did," Pedro spat out tersely, "we would find ourselves further from escape and closer to those who would desire our deaths. While I desire to meet them, for now it cannot be. We must return the way we came so that we pick up our men as we depart. The quicker we do that the quicker we can make the harbour and perhaps intercept the Condor before he tries to flee."

'Then we must rush them," Ishmael declared with resolve in his voice, "and overwhelm them before they get the chance to bottle us up. Let's go!"

With that Ishmael dashed out into the corridor that lay beyond the dungeons door. In his hand he held a pistol and in the other he held a sword. The moment he moved Pedro fell in right behind him. He too was armed in a similar manner. They were both out in the corridor and moving towards the steps before any other in their group realized that they had attacked.

"Oh," a man exclaimed when Ishmael came into sight of the flight of stair. "Who are you?"

Ishmael didn't answer him. Instead he lifted his pistol and fired. The ball from the pistol struck the man in his chest killing him instantly. The man was thrown backwards onto the steps that he was descending. His body collapsed and he dropped his sword as he fell. The weapon skittered uselessly on the steps. The man's body then fell forward and rolled downward until it flopped lifeless at Ishmael's feet. As it did the old warrior leapt over it to land on the steps. An instant later Ishmael was climbing the steps. His sword stood thrust before him.

Pedro fired his pistol a second or two behind Ishmael. His shot struck the man directly behind the man that Ishmael had shot. The ball from Pedro's pistol struck the man in the leg. The man cried out in agony. The man was also armed with a pistol and a blade. His finger squeezed off his pistol as his leg collapsed beneath him. The ball of the pistol ricocheted off the wall and struck nothing. The man fell to his knees on the steps and cried out in pain once more. The men behind him pushed passed him as they pressed on down the steps and the man was pushed over the side of the stairs and into the open air beside them. The man landed with a thud on the stones below. He didn't move again.

Ishmael met the next man with his blade. The man was only armed with a sword and as it would prove a second or two later, the man was ill prepared for the task at hand. Ishmael flicked his blade before him as he ran up the stairs moving the tip of the sword from side to side so that none would know from which side he would strike first. When he did strike his attack came quickly and it took the other man by surprise. The other man had paused upon the steps the moment he saw that Ishmael and Pedro were charging up the steps towards him. He moved to one side to provide space for his fellow guard to move forward to meet Pedro's attack. He brought his blade up in a guard to protect himself and he waited for the attack. He died a moment later.

The tip of Ishmael's blade swept upward as his weapon came in striking distance of the other man. The other man shifted his guard and tried to parry Ishmael's blade. Instead of pausing to pull back and try again Ishmael pressed on. He allowed the man to turn aside his sword until the two blades were locked together. By then Ishmael was within arms reach of the other man. He jabbed forward into the man's exposed stomach with the end of his spent pistol. The blow startled the man and he reflexively started to double over. As he did, Ishmael pulled back for a second and he swung upward with his pistol. The metal of the weapon struck the man in the face. It sent him staggering backwards into the man behind him. That guard in an effort to avoid being tripped up by his falling colleague was forced to leap aside rather than stand his ground. He jumped clear of the steps and down into the corridor below. Both Ishmael and Pedro ignored him. As the man on the stairs tumbled backwards Ishmael pulled his blade free from the other man's weapon. The other man tried to counter Ishmael's move but he was too slow and too late. As Ishmael pulled away from him, Pedro stepped passed him and he sank the tip of his sword into the man's breast. A look of horror appeared on the man's face and then blood bubbled to his lips. As Pedro pulled free his blade, Ishmael drove home as well. The second strike ended the man's life.

Below them a pistol fired and a man cried out in pain. Ishmael's dash into the corridor and towards the steps had taken everyone by surprise. Pedro's dash a second later had broken the spell. As the two men had stormed the steps, Don Enrique and Martinez had followed in their wake. While the steps were too narrow for them to add their blades to the struggle, they did get a chance to prove their value when the fourth guard had jumped to the corridor below. Even as the man came down Don Enrique took aim at him with his pistol. As the man recovered, the Spaniard pulled the trigger of his pistol and the ball from the weapon struck the other guard in the shoulder. Martinez finished off the wounded man with his sword.

"You men," Pedro shouted to a pair of guardsmen who had come up behind Don Enrique and Martinez, "get to the top of these stairs and secure them while we reload our pistols. The rest of you watch the dungeon passageway for any movement. These bastards might try and get to us from behind. Now be quick about it. Time is against us and we need to move as soon as our weapons have been reloaded."

At that Pedro pulled out his pouch of shot and powder and he began to charge his pistol. About him Ishmael and Don Enrique did the same. As they did, voices from high above resounded through the stone walls of the place and instinctively Pedro knew he was in trouble. Silently he cursed his luck and then he pressed on. There was nothing else for him to do.

"Master," a slave called out as he ran frantically into the private chambers of Dom Agostinho de Meneses. "There is trouble below in the dungeon. Gun shots have been heard."

Dom Agostinho was lying upon a divan in the arms of a woman. The woman was naked. She looked to be a local. Her skin was olive coloured and her hair jet black. Dom Agostinho was naked as well. He was sipping from a cup of wine when he was so rudely disturbed.

"What is this?" the tall hawkish looking man demanded to know as he leapt to his feet. "What are you telling me?"

"Master," the slave exclaimed as he threw himself to his knees before Dom Agostinho, "there are intruders in the villa and they are in the dungeon. Shots have been heard ringing out through the house."

"Where are my guards?" Dom Agostinho demanded to know. "Where is that mercenary that I am paying good coin to serve me? Why did you not summon him?"

As Dom Agostinho ranted he strode about his chamber pulling on a loose fitting linen robe and he grabbed for his sword belt. He was strapping it on when Alfonso de Seville made his presence known.

"What are you doing just standing there?" Dom Agostinho bellowed at Alfonso before the mercenary had the opportunity to speak. "Why aren't you off dealing with the intruders? Go and see to it. I'll be along in a moment."

Alfonso simply nodded his head and turned and left. He was gone only a moment or two before another man appeared. This man was Dom Henrique de Menezes. The man was attired and armed.

"What is happening?" Dom Henrique shouted out to Dom Agostinho as he barged into the room. "What is with all the shouting?"

"Intruders," Dom Agostinho grunted with annoyance in his tone. As he spoke he brushed past Dom Henrique and he strode out of his chamber and into the corridor beyond.

"Intruders?" Dom Henrique gasped in surprise as he turned to follow the older man. "What intruders are you talking about? Where are they?"

"They're down in the dungeons," Dom Agostinho stated pausing long enough to inform Dom Henrique of what was happening before he pressed on. "I imagine it is Dom Pedro and his men. I told you they would be coming for you. You just wouldn't listen."

"You wanted me to run," Dom Henrique shouted back at the man. "To where would I go? So long as I stood accused of treason by the King of Portugal, my safety was in question. It was your job to protect me."

"Do not blame me for your problems," Dom Agostinho snarled back at the other man. "It is not my fault that Don Hugo was betrayed by his own niece or that the man went mad in response to the news he was being recalled to Madrid. If he had fled instead of causing us strife our cause would not have been undone. Now shut up and follow me. If we are lucky we will fall upon that whelp and put an end to this once and for all. Without him hunting you any longer you can disappear and perhaps our long term goals will finally bear fruit. We will have to see."

"Have you seen anyone?" Ishmael called out to the guard as he hurried towards him.

"No Captain," the guard shouted back to Ishmael, looking up from where he'd been standing watch at the back of the villa.

The raiding party had made it out of the villa with only one casualty. The guard who'd been left on watch above the passage down into the dungeon had been found dead. They had left him where he lay. There was nothing to be done about that. Now they were outside and it was time for them to flee. They could hear the cries of men pursuing them echoing through the corridors of the villa. An alarm had been raised and they were in danger of being caught.

"To the gate," Ishmael shouted to the man in urgency. "Quickly get it opened so that we might flee."

The man did as he commanded. He leapt up from where he had been huddled in hiding and he reached for the bar that secured the gate in the back wall of the villa. As he did a shot rang out and the man toppled over dead. The man's sudden death brought Ishmael up short. As he skidded to a halt another shot broke the stillness of the night. The ball from that shot struck the cobblestones before him. Quickly Ishmael turned about to see who was firing at him. As he turned he spotted a pair of musketeers quickly reloading their weapons. They were in the company of another pair of guards who were only armed with swords. The men were standing in the lane that ran by the villa and up from the main gate. Their shots alerted others to the presence of the raiders.

"To the gate and open it," Pedro cried out to Ishmael before his captain could choose what to do next, "and I will hold these men."

With that Pedro pulled his pistol again and turned away so that he could attack the men who'd opened fire at them. In his footsteps ran Don Enrique and two other men.

"Get the gate," Ishmael called out to Martinez who'd been bringing up the rear, "while I go to our young lord's aid. He will need my arm in a moment. Of that I am certain."

Ishmael did not wait for Martinez to acknowledge his command. He dashed off in the wake of his young master as quickly as he could. As he did, Ishmael noted that more shots had been fired.

Pedro did not hesitate. He ran as quickly as he could towards the party of musketeers and swordsmen. He did not stop running until he saw that one of the musketeers had finished charging his weapon. The second he noted that the man was bringing up his weapon to fire, Pedro skidded to halt and he brought his pistol up at the same time. It immediately became a question of reflexes. In the end it turned out that Pedro's were quicker. The man still had to draw back the hammer on his musket and that action took a second too long for him. Pedro's pistol spoke first and the ball from the pistol struck the musketeer in the chest. As the man was thrown backwards by the impact, his musket went upward. The weapon discharged into the sky. A second later the other musketeer fired.

Pedro had moved the moment he had fired. He had pivoted to the left knowing that the swordsman standing beside the musketeer would charge the moment his partner had fired. The fact that Pedro's shot had dropped the other man first meant nothing. The man leapt into action the moment the shot had rung out. When he did attack he found the space in which Pedro had been standing empty and that he was facing the drawn pistol of another man. Don Enrique fired his weapon and the ball of that pistol struck the man in the chest while the man was still half a dozen paces away. The man crumpled to the ground a second later.

Don Enrique cursed aloud. A searing pain slashed across the outside of his shoulder a second later. The second musketeer had shot even as he'd pulled the trigger of his pistol. The musket ball had clipped him.

Pedro watched the swordsman go by him as he pivoted out of the way and he heard the shot fired by Don Enrique. He was still moving when he heard the Spaniard curse in pain. It did not stay his blade. Pedro kept on and as he did he thrust his long, sharp blade into the exposed belly of the second musketeer. The man cried out loudly in response and then staggered backwards as Pedro pulled out back his sword to strike again. Awkwardly he swung his heavy musket about in an effort to keep Pedro at bay. It didn't work. Pedro side stepped the swing of the weapon and then came under it with the point of his sword again. The point dug deep into the man's side and he cried out again.

The second swordsman did not come to the rescue of the other musketeer. As the man had shot his weapon, the swordsman had leapt forward to attack Don Enrique. He didn't make it. His attack was foiled by the guardsman coming up on Don Enrique's right side. The guardsman blocked the thrust of the other man's blade and turned it. He parried a second thrust that took his own blade out of line. The swordsman took advantage of that error and struck home. He slashed the guardsman down with a backhanded strike. As the guardsman fell, spewing blood from his wound as he did, the swordsman turned to face Don Enrique. The Spaniard was ready for him and Don Enrique's sword stayed the man's attack. Ishmael shot him dead.

Pedro did not give the musketeer the chance to defend himself. He feinted to the right and then he pivoted to the left as the man swung his heavy weapon about in an attempt to keep Pedro away from him. That opened the man to attack again and Pedro took advantage of it. His sword slashed across the man's belly emptying his intestines onto the ground between Pedro and the man. The musketeer's face went ghostly white and then he crumpled to his knees as he fell the man dropped his weapon. Pedro finished him off with a thrust to his throat.

"There!" Dom Agostinho shouted from above the lane that ran beside the villa. "There they are!"

Dom Agostinho was not alone. With him stood Don Henrique and four other men who were armed with swords. His voice was loud and it carried out into the night. He was pointing towards where Pedro stood and it became clear that his words were meant to alert another.

Alfonso was running up the lane with his sword drawn. Behind him ran six men from Dom Agostinho's private guard. The men were all armed with swords. Alfonso's heart pounded as he spotted his quarry waiting for him at the end of the lane. Snarling with the lust of battle in his heart, Alfonso pressed on.