Darkblade Guardian

by Andy Peloquin

  Step by agonizing step, they fought to hold their ground as more Stone Guardians appeared from the mountains. Their presence stunned the Hunter—how many of the Abiarazi had tried to return to Enarium, only to be twisted and turned into the guardians of the Lost City by its curse? More than twenty stony corpses littered the Dolmenrath on the hill and the stony trail before him, and still they came on.

  The Hunter brought a Stone Guardian to the ground with a powerful sweep of the sword, but the strike exposed his back to another creature. He grunted as long stone talons raked across his back, shredding his leather armor. Only Sir Danna's quick thinking kept him from being crushed beneath its upraised fist—the knight threw herself past him and charged the monster's leg. Soulhunger and her iron dagger bit into the creature's knee, eliciting a roar of pain. The Stone Guardian swiped at Sir Danna, but she ducked between its legs and drove Soulhunger into its spiny back, just above its flicking tail. The monster sagged, spinal column severed, and the Hunter hacked off its head.

  A Stone Guardian charged Sir Danna and leapt high into the air.

  The Hunter had a split second to shout. "Look out!"

  Too late.

  Sir Danna whirled in time to meet the Stone Guardian's slashing claws. Steel armor shrieked in protest as the huge talons raked across the knight's chest. Sir Danna stumbled and would have fallen from the trail, had not the Hunter seized the collar of her backplate. A moment later, the Stone Guardian whipped its powerful tail around to crash into the knight's midsection. Sir Danna gave a little grunt as she flew through the air and landed hard with a clatter of armor on the stony trail behind the Hunter.

  The Hunter turned and raced toward the fallen knight. He wove a deadly blur of sharp iron to keep the Stone Guardians at bay, but he knew it would only stall them so long. Four of the massive creatures faced him, teeth bared, serpentine eyes fixed on him.

  The Hunter bared his teeth in a snarl of his own. "Come on, then! Come and get a taste of what you truly deserve."

  With a roar, the foremost Stone Guardian charged. The Hunter let out an answering bellow as he ducked beneath the attack and brought the greatsword across to chop through the monster's massive hind leg. The Stone Guardian stumbled backward and tottered on the edge of the cliff. The Hunter drove his shoulder into the creature's torso and hurled it backward. Its flailing arms caught the Stone Guardian behind it, and the two of them fell from the trail to plummet to the ground far below.

  Growling his rage, the Hunter hacked at the next beast with every shred of his strength. The savage cut sliced through the creature's sloping brow and removed the entire right half of its head. Its growl cut off in a strangled cry.

  The last of the Stone Guardians raced toward him, then leapt high into the air. Caught off-guard, the Hunter had no time to chop at the beast as it passed over his head. The trail trembled beneath his feet as it landed not three paces from Sir Danna's prone form.

  The Stone Guardian let out a triumphant roar and brought a taloned fist down onto Sir Danna's chest. Horror writhed within the Hunter's gut as steel crumpled like paper, accompanied by a sickening crunch of mangled flesh and bone beneath. The knight gave a strangled gasp, and blood sprayed from her mouth.

  "No!"

  The Hunter raised the iron greatsword and raced across the distance toward the Stone Guardian. It brought its rear leg down hard again on Sir Danna's chest as it whirled to face him, striking out with its massive claw-tipped paw

  The Hunter skidded to a halt, but the tip of one razor talon dug a furrow in his forehead. He brought the greatsword swinging around in a vicious arc, and the blade chopped through the creature's huge arm, severing it at the shoulder. The Stone Guardian threw itself at the Hunter, seeking to bury him beneath its bulk.

  The collision hurled the Hunter to the ground hard, and air whooshed from his lungs. He barely managed to roll out of the path of the stamping hind leg. He swung blindly at the monster, and he felt a shudder run down his arm as the flat of the blade clanged off the stony skin. There came a sound like a thousand glass windows shattering, and the sword in his hand grew suddenly light. When he pulled the blade back for another strike, he found he gripped only the hilt with two hand lengths of sword remaining.

  Pain flared in his legs as the Stone Guardian raked its talons from hip to knee. The Hunter tried to roll out of the way, but the Stone Guardian drove a spiked claw through his thigh. A bark of pain escaped the Hunter's lips. He struck out with the severed stump of the iron greatsword, severing the monster's hand at the wrist. The creature let out a roar of agony and reared up on its hind legs.

  With all the strength the Hunter could muster, he gathered his legs beneath him and leapt at the Stone Guardian, shattered sword outthrust. He let out a growl of rage as he drove the shard of blade up under the creature's chin and into its brain. The thing crumbled backward and crashed to the ground, limp and lifeless. The Hunter had a heartbeat to throw himself off the body before it rolled from the edge of the trail, taking all that remained of Lord Knight Moradiss' iron greatsword with it.

  The Hunter stumbled to his feet and, ignoring the pain in his legs and back, limped toward Sir Danna. The knight lay on her back, eyes fixed on the cloudless sky above. One look at her caved-in breastplate, and the Hunter had no doubt Sir Danna would join the Long Keeper within minutes.

  "Are…they gone?" Sir Danna gasped.

  "They are, for now." The Hunter knelt beside the knight. Her vivid red hair and the splotches of crimson made her skin seem even paler, yet her features had lost their harsh, bitter edge. "You came back to help me, why?"

  "Kiara. She…" Sir Danna broke off in a weak cough, and blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth. "She thought…you…worth saving, too."

  The Hunter swallowed hard. "Still, you know what I am. What I did to Moradiss and…" The word proved surprisingly difficult to say. "…Visibos."

  "Can't take…hate with me…to the Long Keeper." Her face twisted into a wry grin. "Visibos…would have said…that. Wise…man."

  "I think he'd have gotten it from you." He took her hand and gripped it. "All those months ago, when we met on the road, do you remember what you told me? About being good?"

  Sir Danna nodded weakly.

  "What you said, it made me want to prove you right. I wanted to be that man you said I was. I wanted to be better." The Hunter's eyes fell away. "It's because of you I'm here, Sir Danna."

  The weak smile returned to the knight's lips. "Ironic…I'm here…because of you."

  The Hunter chuckled. "We've both come a long way since that day, eh?" He glanced around. After the scene of battle, the utter stillness seemed somehow eerie. No more Stone Guardians appeared in the mountains around him. He had no doubt more would come, but he could spare the dying knight a few minutes. She deserved that much.

  "I…blamed myself," the knight continued. "For Moradiss…Visibos."

  The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

  "Should have…made sure you were dead." She gave a little laugh, which turned into a wet, gasping cough that brought up blood. "I…went to visit…my family near…Malandria. Was gone when…you were at the temple. I wasn't…wasn't there to…save the others. But I…see now…Beggar God's hand…in everything."

  The Hunter gripped her hand tighter. He met her eyes, and was surprised to find her hate and rage had fled. Instead, it was replaced by something else…serenity. It made no sense to him. She had failed in her mission of vengeance. He still lived while she lay dying. So how could she have found any semblance of peace in that?

  "The Beggar God's…will is for…you…to save us all," she gasped out. Her words came fainter, and each ragged breath cost her enormous effort. "He…chose you."

  The Hunter wanted to retort, to hurl the truth of her gods in her face. The Beggar God was a lie fabricated by the Enclave—all the gods were. She had lived and died in service of something that didn't exist.

  And yet, he could not bring himself to do it. Father Reverentus' wor
ds echoed in his mind. "In the end, faith is what makes things true. Faith is what brings peace and acceptance that there is something worth living for, worth dying for."

  He understood now. The Enclave—or Father Reverentus, at the very least—did not use the gods as a nefarious tool of control or manipulation. Or not entirely. The old priest had recognized the truth: people needed the gods. No, people needed faith. Faith gave their lives purpose, provided a meaning for the unexplainable. Faith eased burdens—like the burden of guilt Sir Danna carried.

  If she could rationalize what had happened to Visibos and Lord Knight Moradiss as the will of the god she served, it lessened the burden she felt. The pain remained, but faith served as a balm to ease it. In the end, Sir Danna's faith in the Beggar God gave her peace that all was as it was meant to be. It was a delusion, he knew, but perhaps it would be kinder to let her have the lie.

  He nodded. "The Beggar smile on you," he said, his throat thick, "and guide you on your journey to the Long Keeper's arms, where you will know peace and joy forever more."

  A faint smile stretched Sir Danna's bloodstained lips, and she closed her eyes. "H…Hunter," she whispered.

  The Hunter bent to place his ear close to her lips.

  "Find… the Chambers of…Furtherance," she gasped. "They…are…the hope."

  The Hunter's brow furrowed at the words. They made no sense to him. "What does that mean?" he asked.

  Sir Danna would answer no more. She lay with her eyes closed, her skin pale, all tension gone from her face. She had gone to join her apprentice with the Long Keeper.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  The Hunter's mind raced as he tried to decipher the knight's words. He had no idea what a Chamber of Furtherance was, but somehow it had been important enough that Sir Danna had spent her last breath to relay the information to him. For her sake, he would find out.

  He plucked Soulhunger from her lifeless fingers and slipped the blade into its sheath on his belt. Drawing in a deep breath, he stood and turned toward Enarium.

  A sharp pain flared in his side. He looked down, and horror surged within him at the sight of a shard of black iron embedded in his armor. Lord Knight Moradiss' shattered sword! He hadn't noticed it before, and the fact that he'd been hunched over had kept it from piercing his skin. But when he'd straightened, he'd done the damage. It had been little more than a prick, but that was enough.

  His lips twisted in a bitter smile as the irony of the situation washed over him. After everything he'd survived to get here—Cambionari, Illusionist Clerics, Abiarazi, and now the Stone Guardians—was he really going to die within eyesight of Enarium from the prick of a Keeper-damned shard of iron?

  Not a bloody chance.

  A slow chill spread up and down his ribs, and he felt the numbness reach for his organs. He didn't need to look to know the veins would be blackening as the iron's poison flooded his system. With a growl, he stumbled up the hill toward Enarium.

  The open gate stood fifty paces away, but it felt like a hundred leagues. His feet grew heavy, leaden, and his knees threatened to give out at any second. He was fortunate it had only been a small puncture—a serious wound would have killed him in seconds. At this rate, he had maybe two, three minutes before the corruption killed him. If he could just reach Enarium, he could get Hailen to heal him. Either that, or find a victim to feed Soulhunger.

  The demon filled his head with its insistence, shrieking at him to kill Hailen or Kiara to save himself. The iron's poison flooded him with pain, yet it also helped to drown out the voices. Slowly, the demon's presence faded to a quiet hum as agony engulfed every fiber of the Hunter's being.

  One step, another, one more. He could no longer lift his head, could barely keep his eyes open. The world around him faded until only the stony trail beneath his feet remained. Slowly, like the inevitable chill of winter, the numbness seeped into his hips, down his legs, up to his shoulders. It would reach his heart and brain soon, and he would succumb to the iron's poison.

  If he stopped, if he allowed himself to give in to the pain, he would fall and never rise again. Step by agonizing step, up that seemingly endless slope. He would not stop—he could not. Hailen waited for him in Enarium. The boy was counting on him to save his life. He had to find a way to…

  The poison clouded his thoughts and made it impossible to think clearly. Something in Enarium mattered to Hailen, but he couldn't remember what.

  Memories of the Sage's face flashed through his mind, and the demon's mocking smile brought a surge of fury that barely pushed back the numbness. Slowly, the stupor seeped back into his consciousness until the face disappeared.

  Darkness pressed around the edges of his vision. His breath came in faint, ragged gasps. A dull throbbing filled his ears as his heart struggled to pump blood, taxed by its efforts to purge the poison from his body.

  Another face came to him then. Long golden hair hung in luxurious waves that framed Her perfect face. He took in every detail: from the rosy color of Her full lips to the slight upturn of Her nose to Her high cheekbones.

  Tears streamed down his face. He'd come so close to finding Her. They were to be reunited here, in the Lost City of the Serenii.

  His strength gave out and he slumped to the ground. The pain increased, and he dimly realized his fall had driven the shard deeper. He was beyond caring. It was all he could do to crawl agonizingly toward the open gate.

  His vision blurred, and it took every shred of effort to keep his eyes open. Shadows passed before his face. He wanted to give in, to lie down and let the poison take him. He'd come this far. He'd delivered Hailen safely to Enarium. Kiara would care for the boy. It had to be enough.

  The face returned: dainty nose, sharp cheekbones, luscious lips a red so deep any rose would envy it. The face he'd crossed a continent to see.

  He blinked, but this time the face didn't disappear. The scent hit him. Jasmine and honey, cinnamon and berries. So familiar.

  A voice spoke as if from a thousand leagues away, faint, the words muffled. He tried to speak, but his tongue refused to form words. He reached out with a weak hand.

  Shock coursed through him as his fingers met warm flesh. She stared down at him, and tears streamed down eyes as black as his own. Those perfect lips, the lips of his wife, moved as they formed a name he hadn't heard in…a lifetime.

  "Dravyin?"

  The name jolted something loose in the Hunter's mind. Memories that had been locked away came flooding back to him.

  "T-Taiana?" Tears streamed down his cheeks. He reached out again and found the warm flesh of Her hand in his. A smile stretched his lips.

  "I…found you," were his last words as he died.

  ----

  The Hunter's journey continues in:

  Darkblade Savior

  Hero of Darkness (Book 6)

  I'm on the wrong side of Heaven, and the righteous side of Hell. -- Five Finger Death Punch

  Chapter One

  The Hunter returned from the dead with a scream of agony.

  Pain flared through every fiber of his being, driving back the numbness of the iron’s poison. He gasped at the sudden rush of sensation through his chilled limbs. A finger of fire carved a new scar into the flesh of his chest as he sucked in one ragged breath, then another.

  “I’m alive.” The thought ran through his pain-dulled mind, yet it didn’t make sense. A shard of Lord Knight Moradiss’ iron greatsword, snapped by a monstrous Stone Guardian, had killed him. So how did he still draw breath?

  “Drayvin?”

  That name! So…familiar.

  His name. Time and the Illusionist Clerics had stolen it from him, along with every memory of his past, his child, and the woman that stared down at him. He’d seen that face in his dreams a thousand times. A dainty nose, sharp cheekbones, cherry-red lips, and eyes as black as his own. The scent of jasmine and honey, cinnamon and berries.

  And blood?

  Confusion wrinkled his brow as his eyes registered the fl
ecks of crimson staining her face. A gash ran along her forehead, trickling blood, but he could see the flesh re-knitting before his eyes.

  “Drayvin, can you hear me?” she called. Taiana, his wife, the woman he’d crossed a continent to see once more.

  “I…” His tongue, thick from the iron’s poison, struggled to form the words. I’ve come for you, he wanted to say. We can be together at last.

  A scream echoed behind Taiana before he could respond.

  “Shit!” Taiana leapt to her feet and whirled in one smooth motion, then disappeared from the Hunter’s view.

  With effort, the Hunter turned his head to follow her. She let out a bellowing shout as she barreled toward three figures locked in combat, distracting the one nearest her. Steel flashed in her hand and a shriek burst from the lips of the man she charged. The Hunter heard Soulhunger’s faint cry of delight in his mind as a fresh scar burned its way into his flesh.

  He struggled to clear the blurring from his vision and forced his mind to take in the details around him. He lay on a broad stone road, in the shadow of an enormous wall, with an open gate not five paces behind him.

  Ahead of him, the Lost City of the Serenii spread out in all its glory. Built atop a mountain, the city rose in three concentric Echelons. From his vantage point on the ground, the Hunter could see only eight of the sapphire blue towers that dotted the city, but he’d seen at least twenty when he caught his first glimpse of Enarium. Oddly enough, all of the towers bent inward, their sharp gemstone tips pointing toward the single looming spire of the same deep blue that stood on the pinnacle of the hill. Clouds concealed the tip of the stronghold from view.

  A gurgling gasp snapped the Hunter’s attention back to his immediate surroundings. Not three paces from where he lay, Taiana ripped Soulhunger from the chest of an armored man. The armor was comprised of a solid metal breastplate and pauldrons made of odd-looking metal scales the same deep blue as the sky far overhead. As the armored man sagged, lifeless, his weapon—a quarterstaff with metal caps and spikes twice the length of the Hunter’s index finger—fell from his insensate fingers to clatter to the stones of the road.