by Ben Wolf
In that moment, he realized he’d never beat Tyburon outright. Despite Calum’s words to the contrary, the effects of the fight fatigued his body. Even though Tyburon wasn’t much stronger than Calum, he was just as fast, if not faster, and he had another twenty-plus years of experience reinforcing his every decision.
No matter how hard he fought, no matter how fast he tried to be, Calum couldn’t win—at least not that way. But if he could use the surrounding battle to his advantage, perhaps he’d have a chance.
“Magnus!” he called. “Magnus, help me!”
He knew Magnus wouldn’t hear him. The distance between them and Magnus had actually increased since he first called for help.
Sure enough, Tyburon turned his head toward where Calum was looking, although only very slightly. His gaze flitted away for just a moment then refocused back on Calum’s.
“The Saurian can’t help you now.” Tyburon showed him a twisted smile. “You’re going to die just as you are now: all alone.”
“That’s what you think.” Calum diverted his gaze from Tyburon’s for just a moment, looking over his shoulder, then looked at him again. When he did it a second time, Calum cracked a faint smile.
It worked.
Tyburon’s head swiveled that direction for an instant, and his eyes followed, but that was all Calum needed. He sprang forward.
Calum anticipated the kind of reaction he’d receive. Tyburon’s head and eyes jerked forward again, and he swung his sword at Calum on a downward angle from his right shoulder down to his left hip.
While still in motion, Calum ducked low and twisted his body away from the slash but toward Tyburon’s right side. As Tyburon’s blade streaked just over Calum’s head and back and started his follow-up swing, Calum drove his shoulder into Tyburon’s midsection.
As simple as it was, the move had worked before to knock both Burtis and Jidon off balance. It worked this time against Tyburon, too.
Tyburon pitched off-balance, and as the bandit tried to right himself, Calum found his opening. Just like Axel had done to him, he quickly rotated around Tyburon, grabbed him by the back collar of his armor, and yanked. Tyburon lost his footing and landed on his rear-end, just as Calum had in the woods.
As Tyburon struggled to regain his footing, Calum jammed his sword through Tyburon’s burgundy cape and into his back. The blade punctured deep into Tyburon’s body, out his chest, and through his breastplate.
Tyburon’s struggle stopped, and he sat there, stunned as he stared down at the steel protruding from his chest. When Calum wrenched his sword from Tyburon’s body, Tyburon rolled onto his back.
His blood-tinged mouth hung open, and his eyes widened as he wheezed, “I don’t believe it.”
Calum looked down at him. “If it’s any consolation, neither do I.”
With one mighty swing, Calum severed Tyburon’s head from his body.
Aside from Magnus, Axel had never fought anyone so skilled before. Commander Anigo had proven to be more than a worthy opponent—he was dangerous and even downright scary at times. The guy was just intense… and really vicious and determined to win.
That didn’t mean he was going to, though. Not if Axel had anything to say about it.
Axel threw a haphazard slice at him, but Commander Anigo ducked under the attack and jabbed his spear at Axel’s chest. Axel parried it away with his sword, but as he did, he stepped back, and something rolled under his heel.
He staggered to stay upright and find his footing again, all while defending two subsequent jabs from Commander Anigo. Then he backed up to get a glance at what he’d stepped on.
His spear. He’d dropped it earlier and lost track of it, but now it lay at his feet.
Axel refocused on Commander Anigo, but positioned his feet on either side of the weapon. He’d practiced the move before and managed to fool Calum a few times, but he’d never tried it in a real battle.
Only one way to find out if it’ll work.
Axel tossed his sword, blade-first, at Commander Anigo, not as an attack, but as a distraction. Sure enough, Commander Anigo’s eyes followed the sword, not Axel’s movements. While Commander Anigo dodged the weapon, Axel kicked his spear up into his hands.
By the time Commander Anigo refocused, Axel’s spear was already headed for his chest. The spearhead pierced the commander’s breastplate and dug even deeper still, and his eyes widened. He dropped his spear, clamped his hands around the spear shaft, and slumped to the ground.
Axel retrieved his sword, then once Commander Anigo stopped moving and went limp, he bent down and pulled the commander’s sword from its sheath on his belt. He couldn’t have counted the number of dents and chips in the edges of his old blade, but Commander Anigo’s sword looked as if it had been sharpened that morning, so Axel swapped them.
He also took Commander Anigo’s spear and left his behind, still lodged in the commander’s chest.
Axel grinned and exhaled a long, relieved breath. “Thanks for the steel. Feel free to keep mine right where I left it.”
Magnus had just finished off the last of the men battling him, so Axel scanned the field for Calum. It didn’t take him long to find him since everyone else was dead.
Apparently, that included Tyburon.
Unbelievable. I really didn’t think he had it in him.
Axel waved to Magnus and they both jogged over to Calum. When they arrived, Axel gawked at the sight of Tyburon’s bearded head lying next to his body. “You beat him all on your own?”
Calum nodded. Between haggard breaths, he said, “Yeah. I still can’t believe it. I used that move Axel showed me the other day. The one where he got behind me and pulled the back of my armor? It worked.”
Axel glanced and Magnus and smirked. “Our baby is growing up.”
Magnus frowned at him. “Even if Saurians and humans could procreate, you are the last person I would ever care to raise a child with.”
“Ew. Not at all what I meant.” Axel shook his head. “It was supposed to be a joke.”
“Interesting. Are human jokes not designed to include humor?” Magnus asked.
“No, they are, but—” Axel caught Magnus smirking this time. “You’re a big jerk. You know that?”
“I think I’ll take his sword as a memento of today.” Calum picked up Tyburon’s sword and examined it. Its red blade glistened stark against its black handle, hilt, and the garnet set into the pommel. Definitely the most impressive sword Axel had ever seen.
Axel and Magnus glanced at each other. Still in disbelief, Axel asked, “You sure you didn’t have help?”
Calum’s brow furrowed. “You don’t believe me? I swear it’s true.”
“That’s… incredible,” Axel said.
“Come on. Give me some credit here. I know what I’m doing.” Calum bent down and unfastened Tyburon’s belt, removed the sword’s sheath, and slung it to his waist. He nodded to Magnus. “After all, I had a great teacher.”
Axel cleared his throat.
“Oh, yeah. And an amateur sparring dummy to beat up on.”
“One good kill, and his ego’s as big as a house,” Axel said.
“Reminds me of someone else I know,” Magnus said.
Axel glared at him, then he shifted his glare to Calum. “We both know I could kick your brains out if I wanted to.”
“Just be happy we survived this in the first place.” Magnus’s gaze fixed on something in the distance, and he threaded his broadsword between the two of them. “Gentlemen, it appears we have a straggler.”
Axel and Calum followed Magnus’s line of sight.
About fifty yards away, a man in dark-green armor with curly black hair hobbled toward the tree line.
Nicolai.
“Should I go after him?” Axel asked.
“We all will,” Magnus said. “Come on.”
Running across a field wasn’t exactly how Calum would’ve chosen to celebrate his victory over Tyburon, but Nicolai had left him with little choice. He f
ollowed Axel through the tall grass, and they caught up to him in just a few minutes, right before he made it into the woods.
Axel kicked the back of Nicolai’s knee, and Nicolai fell to the ground. Calum reached them not long after. By then, Axel had his knee on Nicolai’s gut, one hand pinning his chest down, and the other holding his sword to Nicolai’s throat.
“Oh, please—” Nicolai shielded his face with his hands. He didn’t have a weapon on him as far as Calum could see. “Please don’t kill me!”
Axel glanced at Calum, who crouched down next to Nicolai with Tyburon’s—now his red sword in his hand. He couldn’t have been much older than Axel—maybe three or four years, tops. Calum couldn’t help but wonder what had led someone so young to join up with a bunch of thieving bandits.
“Please.” Nicolai clasped his hands together, and tears streamed down his face. “Please—please don’t—”
“Quiet.” Calum glared at him. “From this point on, you don’t say another word unless I give you permission. Crystal?”
Nicolai nodded at least six more times than necessary.
Axel stood up now that Calum had the situation under control.
“You brought this on yourself.” Calum tapped Nicolai’s chest with the tip of his new sword, and a bit of blood dotted Nicolai’s dark-green breastplate. “I let you live, and you ran off to tell your friends about us?”
Magnus approached them from behind, and he, too watched the scene unfold.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sor—”
Calum pressed his sword against Nicolai’s lips. “I don’t recall giving you permission to talk.”
Again, Nicolai nodded a bunch of times. When Calum pulled his sword away, someone else’s blood tainted Nicolai’s lips red. It made him look even more foolish than he already did, but he made no effort to wipe the blood away.
“Now,” Calum continued. “I’m gonna let you go.”
“What?” Axel stepped forward. “You can’t let him go. He’s just gonna run back to some other group of bandits, and they’ll come after us next. We need to kill him.”
Calum understood Axel’s reservations, but he wasn’t going to kill an unarmed man in cold blood. Even the thought of it sickened his stomach.
“If he convinces more bandits to come after us, we’ll just handle them like we did these guys. He knows that.” Calum stared daggers at him to emphasize his point. “Don’t you?”
Nicolai nodded again.
“So instead, Nicolai is gonna find the nearest village, get help for his injured leg, and find a profession that keeps him out of trouble from now on. Right?”
Nicolai didn’t move.
Calum rolled his eyes. “You can talk, Nicolai.”
“Yes,” Nicolai blurted. “I’ll never do anything bad again. I swear. Plus I’ll make up for all the wrong I’ve done by giving to the poor, by helping people, by—”
“We get it.” Calum held up his hand. “Now listen, because I’m only gonna say this once. If I ever see you again, or if I hear you’ve joined another group of bandits, or if I find out you’re oppressing common people or anyone less fortunate than you, I will drop whatever I’m doing, I’ll find you, and I’ll end your miserable life.”
Nicolai swallowed, and his bulging Adam’s apple jumped up to his chin.
Calum’s voice hardened. “Crystal?”
Nicolai nodded for the hundredth time. “Clear.”
“Then get out of my sight.”
Nicolai struggled to his feet. “Thank you. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank—”
Calum pointed to the trees. “Now.”
Nicolai gave a slight bow, then he stumbled into the woods, heading southwest.
Axel shook his head. “You should’ve killed him. You didn’t last time, and look what that got us into.”
“I disagree,” Magnus said. “The mark of a true warrior, as my father always told me, is not evidenced through his displays of strength and prowess, but through his acts of kindness, charity, and mercy.”
Axel folded his arms. “Yeah, maybe if ‘kindness,’ ‘charity,’ and ‘mercy’ are the names of my sword, spear, and axe.”
“I might actually name this sword ‘Kindness,’” Calum said. “Because then I can kill people with Kindness.”
Axel smirked and pointed at him. “That’s actually pretty good.”
Magnus just shook his head. “Come. Let us return to the battlefield to collect what we can. Perhaps these brigands have some coin on them or something we can trade when we reach Kanarah City.”
Axel grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Maybe both, if we’re lucky.”
About five minutes after he heard the last of the survivors’ voices fade into the distance, Commander Anigo wrenched the spear from his breastplate and let it fall to the ground next to him. He pressed his left hand against his wounded chest, and blood oozed between his fingers.
He chanced a look down. The spear had pierced through his armor and into his flesh, slowed only by the chain maille he wore underneath. The spear may have plunged deeper still, but he couldn’t be sure. However bad it was, he needed to get help, and fast.
With his right hand, he pushed himself to a sitting position. His chest ignited with fresh, sharp pain as if he’d been stabbed all over again. He inhaled several quick breaths, then he raised his right hand to his lips and whistled.
The clop-clop-clop of approaching hooves sounded behind him, and soon a horse—Candlestick—sidled up next to him.
Even if he couldn’t count on anyone else, he could count on Candlestick.
Commander Anigo grabbed one of Candlestick’s stirrups and pulled himself up, then he gripped the saddle and sprang atop Candlestick’s back. Everything hurt, but he’d mounted his horse.
As he prepared to ride off, he caught sight of Corporal Bezarion laying face-up in the field, staring at the blue sky with one vacant eye. An axe head protruded from the left side of his face, literally dividing it from the other side.
It appeared Commander Anigo wasn’t the only one who’d underestimated the ferocity of the bandits and the fighting and strategic acumen of the fugitives. Even so, Commander Anigo had no sympathy for him. He couldn’t afford to.
He urged Candlestick south toward the main road by which they’d initially found this field. From there, he could head to Kanarah City and get proper medical aid. Every bump and jolt of Candlestick’s gallops sent fresh pain into Commander Anigo’s chest, but he refused to let this wound kill him.
More importantly, he would remember every jolt of pain when he finally caught up to the three fugitives.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Trader’s Pass/The Valley of the Tri-Lakes
A week and a half had passed since the bandits’ attack. As they drew nearer to the end of eastern Trader’s Pass and Kanarah City, Roderick’s men camped for the night.
Then, early in the morning while it was still dark, they blindfolded Lilly, Sharion, and Colm and shackled them, hand-and-foot. But instead of riding in the wagon, this time they walked.
“Do not be alarmed,” Colm whispered while the slave traders locked the wagon door. “When we last traveled this way, they did this. It is to conceal the path we will take from now on.”
“Why conceal it?” Lilly asked, now unable to see him.
“It isn’t supposed to exist.” Colm huffed. “Slave-trading isn’t exactly a noble vocation, and it is generally frowned upon by the public.”
“What about the wagons?” Lilly leaned close to him. “My cape and armor are still in one of them. They’re my only hope for getting out of here.”
“Your optimism never ceases to amaze me, child.”
Lilly didn’t know whether it was truly optimism or not, but she knew with certainty the alternative wasn’t something she wanted to endure.
“I wish I held as much faith in myself as you do in yourself,” Colm continued. “The wagons will advance as they always do: a small group of men will lead them through the w
estern gate of Kanarah City while the rest accompany us through the tunnels below the city. Once we exit the tunnels, we will rendezvous with the rest of the group.”
So she would still have the chance to be reunited with her cape and armor. Good.
Colm nudged her hip. “Above all else, child, hold the end of my cloak. Try to step where I step. These tunnels make for perilous passage, but we have no choice but to comply.”
Roderick and his men marched them through the darkness of the tunnels for several hours, stopping only to rest when one of them couldn’t walk any farther. Usually it was Colm who’d worn himself out, but after so much time sitting in a cart and being transported everywhere, Lilly found that even she grew fatigued faster than usual.
Or perhaps she just wasn’t used to walking so much in general. Why walk when she could fly?
Their shackles clanked and the sound echoed around them as they walked. Fatigue aside, the repeated step-clank, step-clank of their footsteps and shackles nearly drove Lilly to scream. Just when she thought she couldn’t take the repetition anymore, Roderick ordered them to stop, and Luggs distributed a few crusts of bread.
As she ate, she noticed a nauseating odor permeating the tunnel.
“What’s that smell?” Lilly asked.
“Nothing good,” Sharion replied from Lilly’s left. “Nothing good at all.”
Lilly turned toward her, but she still couldn’t see anything thanks to her blindfold.
Colm piped in, “I imagine she’s right, but I can’t say for sure.”
“It smells like something died.”
“Perhaps something did,” Colm said.
“It would have to be a very big something.” Lilly wrinkled her nose. “Or lots of things. I suppose with so little airflow in here, a dead thing might smell bad forever.”
“We’re not far from Kanarah City’s sewers,” Colm said. “That’s a stink you won’t soon forget.”