Death's Paladin

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Death's Paladin Page 15

by Christopher Donahue


  Hefting his book of prayers, Karro tapped it on Talodan’s chest. “Also we should celebrate properly tonight. We face Dark evil and should fortify ourselves for this kind of battle. If we leave tomorrow, Balanar will join us and may persuade the nobles. A dozen extra swords should be worth the wait.”

  Talodan nodded unhappily and headed upstairs. Karro returned to the fireplace where Lady Kestran studied her Book of Light. She closed the book, using a finger to mark her place.

  Karro stood with a foot on the hearth, studying the fire and enjoying his smooth mead. It felt good sharing the warmth with the lady while the others went about their business.

  He offered her a sip of his mead. She took a small one. He asked, “Did you speak for Carranos during the Manifestation at your husband’s keep?” She didn’t seem concerned about her part although it was one of the largest roles in the religious play.

  “For the past eleven years. My late husband, Velkaz, spoke for Auros and his father spoke for the True God.” She looked up at Karro from the cushion on the hearth. “I’m glad you are having the ceremony. I would have missed the play and felt even farther from home. During those years at my lord’s keep in the Delta, I felt most at home when we celebrated the Manifestation.”

  He took her hand. “So many terrible things are happening now; we need the comfort of faith.”

  As he left, he felt mixed emotions. He wanted to shield her from the forces that Voskov delved in. Karro also wanted to hold her for himself. I can’t afford to lose sight of my task.

  The preparations for the celebration were simple. The meal would be vegetable stew and bread. Each player and participant would be clean and dressed in the clothes of their trade. The acts of bathing and changing energized the recovering people. By early evening, most moved surely if not quickly. The mercenaries sat around the common room cleaning their weapons, oiling armor or telling stories to impress the trio of serving girls.

  In the corner, by the fireplace, Talodan tested his strength by stringing and unstringing his powerful bow. The effort taxed him, but success buoyed his spirits. Karro was pleased that the time of inactivity had forced Talodan to come to grips with his wife’s loss. The tracker seemed as determined as before, but more calculating as held a hematite-fitted arrow up to a lantern for a closer look.

  Balanar came through the main door, a blast of cold air and snowflakes entering with him. “By the Light it’s … well, I think you know. The gate is closed and the animals tended. I’m ready to begin.”

  The Macmar mercenaries moved tables from the center of the room and the inn’s staff came into the common room. Karro spotted each person with a speaking role and bowed toward Balanar to start the play.

  The Macmar Knight threw open his heavy leather cape. Beneath it, his polished splinted mail gleamed in the well-lit room. He raised his arms and spoke with conviction. “Tonight we gather in the darkness to celebrate Truth and Light.”

  Although Karro had celebrated the Manifestation hundreds of times, it always stirred him. With evidence that the evils of the world were as active as ever, he needed the reassurance this play brought him. Around the room, soldier and servant alike listened as Balanar’s voice sang out.

  His rich tenor proclaimed the vastness of the world and the ever-changing nature of life. The familiar words brought Karro back to the place where his faith and duty were relevant and the True God’s victory felt inevitable. After the shock of seeing Old Faith fetishes at Tavma’s Cross, the comfort of the liturgy wrapped him like a warm blanket on an icy night.

  No doubt most Macmar still prayed to their old gods, but they revered the True God in an acceptable fashion. True belief radiated from Kestran and her lastman as they sang the early refrains. In the warm room, Karro didn’t need to convince his fellows of the obvious truths behind the True God’s words, spoken through his Greater Servants.

  Fatigue settled on Karro, the safe room and the constant work of the past week taking its toll. He leaned against the cellar door and waited for his part of the play.

  Lady Kestran delivered the promise of Carranos without hesitation or error, but by the end, her voice strained to keep its clear tone. Then Karro strode into the middle of the room. He knelt before Balanar, facing the audience, specifically Lady Kestran. He tilted back his full helmet so his words would be clear. In ceremonial cadence, he said, “Auros accepts the burden of delivering justice. Those who follow Auros will place their bodies between the faithful and wanton destruction. Auros will be the shield for the followers of the True God.” The mercenaries stood straighter, as Auros’ words were the most familiar to them.

  The strain of illness and the warm room dragged on the celebrants. Several servants struggled to stay awake. Lady Kestran’s lastman slumped in a corner.

  Surely, they can stay awake to praise the True God. They had looked alert enough when food was on the table.

  Dropping his helmet back, Karro took his place at the door. By the time the other speakers Finished, some of the mercenaries and all the servants were asleep. When the warring kings part came, both nobles slept with their heads on the table. Only one could be shaken awake, and he couldn’t say his line.

  Balanar stood and raised his fist, exhaustion and indignation in his stance. He opened his mouth to speak and then sat back onto the hearth.

  Vague concern nagged at Karro. This was more than weakness after an illness. The grace of the True God had shielded Balanar and Karro from the sickness.

  He pushed away from the door. He felt as though he carried an anvil on his back. Shrill alarm screamed in the back of his mind, but he felt like a bear settling in for winter. His eyes closed against his will. He was conscious, but nothing mattered. The warm air and the door at his back felt suddenly comfortable. A rhythmic pounding at the courtyard gate disturbed him briefly, but it ended after a crash.

  Karro sank into the embracing darkness, the cares and fatigue fading. A tiny flicker of golden light intruded on the darkness. Although his eyes were closed, the light grew, soft but insistent. Gradually, the light filled the room. Karro’s perception rose. He “saw” the common room and looked down on his sleeping body.

  He drifted to the room’s center. Collapsed forms lay everywhere. A shadowy golden shape rose from Balanar. Others came from Lady Kestran, the innkeeper and the smith.

  The spirits drifted together and turned so their backs touched. Feeling compelled, Karro pushed out. Meeting a great resistance, he pushed harder. He advanced a step, pushing a gray wall ahead of him. The other spirits also pushed back the darkness.

  As Karro drove the wall back, it darkened and the faint outlines of faces appeared in its surface. With a final shove, he forced the wall past his sleeping body.

  Alarm flashed through Karro as though splashed with ice water. He sprang to his feet with a shout. Balanar leaped up an instant later. Within seconds, the others woke and called out in confusion.

  The door to the courtyard crashed into the room. Two ragged Hykori stumbled in over the broken portal. Karro drew his sword and pushed to the door.

  As the fallen door teetered on a metal pitcher, one intruder fought for balance. long-dried blood covered his pale blue face and neck. The smell of fresh death poured off him.

  Karro struck the ghoul between neck and shoulder. The creature fell and stayed down. The second undead warrior drove deeper into the chaotic common room.

  Karro stepped through the doorway and into an attack from several more undead. A flail-swinging Macmar corpse interfered with two Hykori trying to grab Karro. He chopped furiously at all of them. His blessed blade hewed through rotting limbs and bodies until he cleared the area around the door.

  Cold air and the reek of the open grave blew through the slits in his helmet. Light spilling from the warm room illuminated the ghastly courtyard. A score of armed undead milled beyond his sword’s reach as he drew in ragged breaths.

  A small table smashed through the common room window and into the courtyard. Stiffly, an un
dead Macmar climbed into the window frame. Three loud cracks sounded from inside. A pair of heavy impacts threw the creature back into the courtyard.

  “Mine.” Talodan’s shout cut through the noise. An arrow hummed past Karro’s head from behind and buried itself in a ghoul’s chest. The gore-splattered creature fell back like a rotted stump.

  A roar behind Karro announced Balanar’s presence. Karro stepped forward and a pace to the right to make room for his left-handed friend. Shoulder to shoulder, the Knights battled through the courtyard and cut down three more undead.

  With space cleared, Macmar mercenaries charged out and joined the fight. More shots rang out, but Karro couldn’t tell what was hit.

  Clouds passed from the greater moon, shining its pale red light on more enemies coming through the broken gates into the courtyard. Some were stiff and slow undead, but more were living warriors in Hykori dress, their faces daubed with white paint to give them deathly expressions.

  As the newcomers attacked, the undead still in the courtyard rushed forward. Karro cut living flesh with the same economy he used on the dead. The living Hykori seemed as fearless as the dead.

  Death-faced attackers fought with ferocity, if no great skill. Karro slipped past one man’s guard, opening the Hykori from chest to navel. The man cried out, stumbling back and trying to hold in his guts.

  Neither living nor dead Hykori could stand against Karro with Balanar at his side. They drove their unskilled attackers back with less effort than they put into their daily practice sessions. As the Knights drove for the shattered gates, the Macmar mercenaries and nobles struggled with the rest of the Hykori.

  “If this is all your nightmen amount to, we should have no trouble.” Balanar looked relieved and disappointed as he cut a ghoul’s right arm, nearly severing the limb. The creature spun with the blow and used the momentum to ram its left shoulder into Balanar’s chest.

  Karro’s heavy chopping blade took the ghoul behind its left knee, dropping it to the muddy yard. Holding Balanar up to catch his breath, Karro did little beyond fending off several sloppy attacks. The Macmar still struggled with the remaining living and undead Hykori.

  A chorus of howls erupted beyond the shattered courtyard gate. The stabled horses screamed and kicked the stable walls. Karro strode toward the gate to meet the next attack.

  Near the shadowed gate, a black-furred fist drove his helmet into his nose and chin. Karro staggered back, the light from the common room shining off the pelt of a man-sized creature with a wolfen face and wrestler’s body and stance. The bestial creature dodged Karro’s blows and struck with incredible strength. It shrieked and howled at him, driving him farther from the gate.

  Its breath choked him. The beast’s club-like fist struck the side of Karro’s right knee, knocking him to the flagstones. Pain like a fresh burn shot from knee to hip.

  The beast pounced. Karro rolled aside and struck blindly behind. His blade sank home. He rolled back and turned the broad chopping blade to keep the beast pinned. Where his sword pierced the creature, blue fire flared. The beast twisted and thrashed, but Karro strained to keep it pinned. After a despairing howl, the beastman died. As Karro withdrew his blade, the beast’s body shuddered, blurred and became the body of a muscular young Macmar.

  Karro pushed to his feet, favoring his right knee and turned to face the gate. More living Hykori rushed through. At their back strolled a man in archaic Hykori armor, standing over a head taller than his fellows. The man carried a throwing axe in one hand and a huge sword in the other.

  Balanar called out a challenge and rushed across the courtyard toward the newcomer. The Macmar Knight cut down two skin-clad Hykori warriors barring his way.

  The giant Hykori threw his axe. It hit Balanar squarely in the chest, slicing through the Knight’s armor.

  As Balanar fell to his knees, Karro cried out. The Hykori held his arms out in a summoning gesture. Balanar rolled to his side and held onto the axe as if it were a lover. Karro could not believe what he saw. The axe shifted and tugged, widening the wound.

  Ragged fingernails dug into Karro’s throat and teeth ground against the mail across his shoulder. Under the new attacker’s unexpected weight, Karro’s knee nearly buckled.. The creature’s slaughterhouse breath was even worse than its teeth or fists.

  Karro staggered backward and slammed the creature into the inn’s wall. The ghoul’s bruising grip loosened and Karro drove his shoulder into its chest. He rammed it against the wall several times, hearing and feeling its ribs snap. He stepped back and chopped through its collar bone and deep into its chest. It fell away, a faint blue light tracing the wound.

  Karro turned to see Golden Balanar on the ground.

  Clutching the axe to his chest, Balanar crooned to it. His blood poured out around the chest wound. Tears ran across Balanar’s face, but Karro saw no pain in the man’s eyes.

  The axe head softened as if stepping back through its forging. Soon, the weapon’s unnatural movements ceased. Balanar’s head fell back to the ground as his body relaxed in death, a look of satisfaction on his face.

  “Now you die!” Karro shouted at the giant Hykori axeman. The giant didn’t respond. Instead, he threw down his sword and clutched at the now-glowing bracer around his right forearm. Crying out in agony, the Hykori stripped pieces of molten copper from his arm. Throughout the courtyard, the undead stopped their attacks and stood mutely.

  Karro cut down two motionless creatures. The few remaining mercenaries in the courtyard did the same. Living Hykori warriors ran for the gate.

  Before the fleeing Hykori warriors reached the gate, three more beastmen lunged through. They struck at the Hykori, forcing them back into the fight. The giant in the ancient armor held his arm to his chest and staggered back against the shattered gate,. As the armored giant regained his senses, so did the remaining undead. Their attack resumed in earnest.

  A striped, catlike beastman rushed at Karro. He swung his sword in a low arc. The creature hopped to avoid his cut. Karro reversed his swing, turning its arc back to the beastman’s leg and throwing the creature to the ground. Before it could spring up from the first blow, Karro aimed another at its head and smashed it down.

  The stunned creature tried to roll away but Balanar’s body blocked the way. Using a compressed version of the Grand Sweep from his weapons routine, Karro hacked the beast into three large pieces.

  Wilder screams of panicked horses echoed from the stable. A Hykori body hurtled through the open stable door Vision charged out. The blessed horse reared, striking a slow-moving undead Macmar in the head. Steel-edged hooves pulped the body. The other horses poured out of the stable and into the courtyard.

  As the terrified animals kicked and flailed, Karro dodged for his life. One horse got through the gate and most of the rest followed in a rush. Vision remained, along with two other war-trained mounts. They would turn any enemy who came near into paste.

  The few remaining Hykori, living and undead, stood dazed. A Macmar mercenary leaned on a broken spear. At the doorway and broken window stood a pair of arquebusiers. The bodies of the two Macmar nobles lay near the door with a tangle of other bodies.

  An arquebus fired. One of the Hykori fell to the ground. Other than the arquebusier fumbling with his next cartridge, the men in the courtyard struggled to regain breath. A glance at Balanar’s body re-energized Karro.

  The necromancer! Karro ran toward the gate. Over a dozen shapes approached the gate from the nearby woods. One stopped beyond the reach of the faint light coming through the gateway.

  A blow rang against Karro’s head, spinning him down into the mud. A lead sling bullet bounced on the ground nearby. Karro staggered up and stumbled toward the door to the inn. The ground tilted under him. The new dent in his helmet pressed against his forehead, pounding with his pulse.

  The arquebusier pulled him inside where the innkeeper carried him to a table. Karro’s sight blurred and his sticky sword slipped from suddenly-numb fingers. He pu
lled off his helmet and vomited.

  “My lady! Here, quickly,” the innkeeper shouted.

  Consciousness fell away in a nauseating whirl.

  The golden glow lit the common room again. Servants and Lady Kestran hovered over wounded warriors. Near the door, the lady’s lastman frantically rammed powder down the barrel of an arquebus. The other warriors leaned against walls or benches and fought for breath or bound wounds.

  Karro’s consciousness drifted out into the courtyard. Balanar, glowing softly, stood over his own body.

  “Karro, lad. You must stay here.”

  “But you’ve gone on.”

  Another shadowy form joined them. Auros. “Balanar is right. You have much left to do. Balanar completed his final duty, releasing the innocent spirits bound in that hellish axe. I need you to bring another into my service and to end this situation with the cursed Book.”

  Balanar’s shade faded away. A force pulled Karro through Auros and into the common room, hovering above his body. Lady Kestran bathed his face. A huge purple knot had formed on his forehead. Auros touched the injury and it wiped away under Kestran’s cloth. She jerked back in shock.

  Karro opened his eyes. Worry and exhaustion lined Lady Kestran’s face. Behind her, Talodan stood with his bow in hand.

  Karro stood stiffly. Kestran tried to help him, but moved too slowly. She whispered, “I’ve seen blows like that. You should lie there for a day or two and then die.”

  Karro grimaced. “Auros has other plans.” He looked around at the remaining staff and warriors. “He has plans for all of us.”

  The arquebusier at the window shouted, “Well, those plans need to happen now.” He discharged his weapon into the courtyard, handed it back to the lastman and took a reloaded weapon.

  Outside, two beastmen charged across the courtyard, crowd of living and undead enemies on their heels.

  The man at the doorway fired his weapon, spinning a black-furred beastman to the ground. Talodan stepped up and sent an arrow into the chest of an undead. The wretched creature fell and stayed down.

 

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