Deathstalker 07 - Deathstalker Return

his resolve. He was going home, to House Campbell, to free his father. It was a pretty predictable plan, as plans went, butDouglas didn't give a damn. He'd had enough of playing the beaten man, playing for time; it was time for action. He'd hoped he'd have won some allies by now, but events hadn't worked out that way. He was alone. So he was going to rescue his father, and to hell with the consequences. Let Finn and all his people try to stop him;Douglas was in the mood to kill a whole lot of people. It wasn't like he had anything left to lose. He couldn't save the Empire, he couldn't save Humanity from its own follies, but he could still save his father.
    He shot across the Parade of the Endless, the city glowing bright and cheerful below him in the gathering gloom of evening.Douglas was careful to follow all the traffic codes and regulations. He couldn't afford to be noticed and stopped. There wasn't a lot of traffic in the high air lanes at this hour, mostly just freight.
    Occasionally he had to fall to a lower lane, to make way for the really big rigs, and then he saw signs of unrest and even open fighting in the streets below.Douglas didn't even slow to look. The people's problems would have to wait.
    The city quickly fell away behind him, and he headed out across the open countryside. It all seemed very calm and very peaceful, as though what happened in the cities was of no concern. The craft flew on, and no one called or challenged him. He checked the gun and sword he'd taken from James. Good enough for rough work. No doubt there would be new guards at House Campbell, answering only to Finn Durandal.Douglas had to assume they had orders to keep out everyone who didn't have evidence of safe conduct from Finn.Douglas also had to assume that they had been given sufficient weaponry to enforce those orders. He hadn't come this far just to be shot out of the sky because he didn't have the right code words. So even though his spirit ached for the comforts of open confrontation,Douglas decided not to take any chances. He swung wide around the borders ofCampbell territory, and brought his craft down in a narrow valley some distance behind House Campbell. According to all the maps and documentations, the valley had nothing to do with theCampbells , but secretly the family had owned the land for generations, through several intermediaries.
    Douglaslocked the ship behind him, and set off up the valley. It was getting dark. He kept a watchful eye out, but no one appeared to challenge him. It took him a while to locate a certain opening in the cliff face behind House Campbell, marked by a large and distinctly colored boulder. He'd never had to use the secret entrance before. No one had, since before Lionstone's time—bad cess to the woman's memory—but the secret had been handed down through generations ofCampbells , from father to son, just in case it might be needed. Put not your faith in Kings and governments, the Campbells always said.
    Only family can he trusted.
    What looked like a crumbling cave mouth actually led into a narrow tunnel, carved out of the earth long and long ago, and reinforced with concrete and steel. After a while, overhead lights came on, activated byDouglas 's presence. The air was cold and stale.Douglas hurried along the tunnel, gun and sword in
    hand, ready for any sign of new guards or booby traps. If Finn knew about the tunnel, it might even be sealed off. But only William could have told him, and the old man would rather have died than betray family secrets.
    Eventually the tunnel came to an end, curving sharply upwards to a simple trapdoor, leading to one of the cellars in HouseCampbell . The whole system was a relic of the bad old days, the time of Family feuds and vendettas, when one never knew when he might have to leave in a hurry. No one had used the trapdoor in centuries, but it still swung open smoothly atDouglas 's touch. He pulled himself up and into the cellar, and looked quickly around. He was alone, at the back of the old wine cellar, surrounded by stacks of ancient vintages lying at their rest in dusty bottles. Again, the lights had come on automatically, reacting to the presence of aCampbell .Douglas padded quietly across the cellar, scowling at the signs of recent damage. There were broken bottles everywhere, and splashes of spilled wine on the stone flaggings; precious vintages wasted and destroyed, just for the sake of it.
    Douglascame to the cellar door, listened for a