Fate of the Tyrant (The Eoriel Saga Book 3)

by Kal Spriggs

  He slowed, though, as he neared the edge of a clearing. The ground here was stony, but the last set of tracks were stark and raw in the soil, a sure sign that he drew close to his quarry. He didn't know if it had an ability to scent him or if it used sight or sound to track prey.

  He froze as he heard a rustle of leaves and his eyes peered into the gloom under the brush at the far side of the clearing. A moment later, he saw slow, cautious movement. Simonel slowly drew back his arm to cast his spear as his eyes made out an animal, its long cream and brown fur deceptive in the shadows and snow in the brush.

  “If you throw that spear at my cat, I shall be very cross with you,” a woman's voice spoke.

  Simonel spun, shocked to be taken unawares. The woman perched in a tree, a dozen spear lengths away, a crossbow leveled in his direction. Simonel slowly stood from his crouch, careful to make no hostile move as he lowered his spear, “I'm tracking a beast, one that attacked my people three days ago... care to tell me why you are here?”

  “I'm tracking a creature as well,” the woman said. She didn't lower her crossbow, but it wasn't quite aimed at him anymore. Simonel took a moment to study the woman, who had blonde hair streaked with purple and green. Her eyes were blue, much like Amelia's, but there was a coldness to them, one part distrust and another part cynicism.

  Best to get this out of the way, he thought. Outsiders rarely recognized his people for what they were, most often they assumed they were half-breeds or whole-blooded Armen from the north. Occasionally they were confused for Vendakar from the south. “I am King Simonel Greeneye, ruler of the Eastwood.” Technically, she had trespassed upon his lands, but he would ignore that given that she was probably here hunting the same creature. Assuming she isn't its master.

  “I know who you are,” the woman responded with a snort even as she slung her crossbow and descended from the tree.

  Simonel's jaw dropped a bit at that. Most outsiders viewed his people with a mixture of superstition and awe. The simple dismissal left him feeling adrift. As she reached the ground, a cream and brown predatory cat drew out of the shadows and came up next to her. It stood as high as the woman's waist and peered at Simonel with green, intelligent eyes.

  “I'm Brooke, this is Illiadan,” she said. “We hunt the same prey.” She paused and cocked her head, “Have you seen it?”

  Simonel shook his head. “I've not,” he could tell that she hadn't told him something and her awareness of who he was and the flippancy with how she dealt with him left him feeling that she was far more than she seemed. She might well be the beast's master, he thought with a glance at the large cat that stood protectively next to her, and that might be another of her creations.

  “I've caught one look at it in the past two weeks,” Brooke said. “It's big, bigger than any other Bloodbeast I've seen.”

  Simonel started to nod and then he froze, “Wait... did you say Bloodbeast?” Bloodbeasts were some of the nastiest creations of powerful sorcerers. They were hideous creatures, with corded muscle and powerful jaws and they could track prey for weeks or even months by scent.

  “You didn't know?” Brooke asked. “I've been tracking it since it came down out of the highlands. Something woke it and it has been hunting for the past month. I should have assumed it would be drawn to your lands, but I couldn't be certain and didn't want to lose the trail.”

  Simonel nodded slowly. Bloodbeasts weren't designed to defend a sorcerer, they were designed to hunt down those with mageblood. They didn't subsist on flesh like a normal predator, they craved mageblood and the raw energy within. While they could survive on normal meat, they would become maddened with hunger until they found prey with mageblood. His people, his entire race, would be a delicious scent to a Bloodbeast, a never-ending buffet. A sorcerer could then draw that power from the creature, using it to fuel his own spellgrafts or to craft still more creations.

  It made sense now, why Nanamak had not recognized the tracks. Bloodbeasts were often crafted from lesser animals, ferrets, weasels, badgers, even sloth... grown into monstrous size. The speed and strength they possessed would be unrivaled by anything in the natural world. No wonder it had bested Artohba, the poor man probably hadn't even known it was upon him before it took him.

  And if the woman knew it was a Bloodbeast and had hunted it for so long, “You are a mage,” Simonel said.

  She gave a slight nod, “I am.”

  “You came after it alone?” Simonel asked.

  “I had some companions, but as we drew near the Eastwood, I bid them farewell,” Brooke said. “I knew they would not be welcome, while I might at least bargain for passage.”

  “What bargain?” Simonel asked.

  “Information for passage,” Brooke responded with a slight smile. She gave a nod at him, “About a guest of yours, actually.”

  Simonel’s eyes went narrow. For the woman to even know he had a guest was impressive. Combined with the manner of her casual speech to him and that she left out any honorifics meant that she either found little purpose in such things or…

  “You are Viani,” Simonel said. Her stated name, then, would be the origins of her name, but not her true name. The Maghali Khalakuri rarely shared those with other races of men and almost never did so willingly with his people.

  Brooke straightened a bit and for a second, something flashed behind her eyes, either anger or pain, Simonel didn’t know which. “It’s true then, what I’ve heard about you. Sharp of you to realize it so quickly.”

  Simonel’s green eyes narrowed as he considered her. He recognized that she awaited something more. For all that she might be here to kill the Bloodbeast, he couldn’t help but feel she had come here to evaluate him, as well. She’s a mage, he thought, which at least precludes her from crafting such a beast herself, but she might well have awakened one and driven it here. If so, she was directly responsible for the murder of Artohba… and there would be a reckoning.

  Yet that wasn’t what she awaited. Simonel considered the situation for a moment and then gave a nod. She was a mage, a Viani, who operated under the name of “Brooke” and presumably lived in the lands directly outside the Eastwood. That probably meant she was one of the Watchers, those Viani who distrusted his people the most…

  Few Viani operated under their own names, but the names they adopted were often enough based upon their true names. She’s a Watcher and a Mage, with a pseudonym based upon a small stream…

  “You are Nakadi,” Simonel said.

  She gave him a nod. “Very good, young King.” She said the words grudgingly, as if disappointed to have to extend to him even that meager acknowledgment. “You bear Mede Khmali and Medis Sakveri… and appear to have the wisdom to do so. So perhaps we shall proceed with our hunt?”

  Simonel shook his head, “You offered a bargain for passage. What information do you bear?” She might have encountered young Swordbreaker after his departure and Simonel would grant the woman passage in return for information on the young man. Still, he wouldn’t give her any more information than she already claimed to know, and so he didn’t speak the name of Amelia or let slip that he had more than one guest… for all that Amelia was now one of his people.

  She gave him a slight nod, “I bear news of import about young Aerion Swordbreaker.” She said. “He’s become an officer in Lady Katarina’s army… and he’s quite the heroic figure. He’s doing well, cutting quite the swath through Lord Hector’s mercenaries.”

  Simonel made a slight wave with his hand, as if sweeping away flies, “That he is doing well is good to know, but I care little about the war he fights in.”

  Nakadi pursed her lips, “Do you know that he bears the Starblade?”

  “I did,” Simonel said, “and I made certain that it remained in his possession.”

  Nakadi’s expression showed surprise, “You… you do not oppose the efforts to restore the Starborn High Kings?”

  Simonel chuckled, “I do not care. They have little effect upon my people…
we endured the time before them and saw little change during their rule… other than one or two ill-conceived attempts at invasion… which I’m certain none of the Viani encouraged.” He couldn’t help a tone of sarcasm, for he well knew that the Viani Watchers had encouraged several failed Starborn incursions upon the Eastwood.

  Nakadi looked away.

  “I have no concerns about their return or if they stay gone forever,” Simonel said. “So far, the information you have given me is barely enough to allow you to depart.” In truth, Simonel would rather have her help against the Bloodbeast. Such a fearsome creature would be dangerous and to have a mage who would know its weaknesses and help heal him after the fight wasn’t something he would overlook. Still, he might startle some valuable information out of her if he forced her hand.

  And I’ll not trust one of the Watchers to come here without something truly precious, he thought.

  “His mother carries the Vidrekan bow,” she said.

  Simonel’s eyebrows went up at that. The Vidrekan bow was one of the lost treasures from the time of Dzveli Eris Maghali. Legend had it that Maghali Mede had crafted it for his daughter’s use, though it had seen use by a number of heroines of the era, especially in combat against the ancient Vendakar. It had been lost in the civil war which had destroyed that golden era.

  “She bears it rightfully in its full power,” Nakadi said and if anything her tone was even more grudging than when she had acknowledged him as King of the Eastwood. If Aerion’s mother bore the Vidrekan bow in its full power, than she was truly a dangerous woman. While not a weapon of Mede Khmali’s caliber, by reputation it was still capable of slaying men, beasts, and spirit-touched.

  That young Aerion bore the Starblade and his mother carried Vidrekan strained coincidence. “How did she come to bear it? Where did she find it?” His eyes narrowed still further, “And who is Aerion’s father?”

  A look of satisfaction showed on Nakadi’s face as Simonel showed his interest. He restrained a curse as he realized that he had tipped his hand, proven a moment later as she spoke. “All good questions, but I think the information I gave is payment enough for my safe passage… do you not agree?”

  “I must” Simonel said. “Though if you have answers to those…”

  “I don’t,” Nakadi said. “And time is short. The Bloodbeast’s den must be nearby and while it might not stir for the scent of your blood, it most certainly will for my own.”

  Simonel gave her a nod, though he felt certain the mage knew more than she had said. “Any suggestions?”

  “Against any normal beast I’d have Illiadan scout ahead and we would split up, present more inviting targets. But a Bloodbeast won’t care about numbers, especially not when it can scent mageblood so close to its den,” she said. “So we stay together. Your spear will likely be of little use, my crossbow of even less.”

  “Augmented?” Simonel asked. Spellgraft augmentation could provide defenses against common or even runic weapons.

  “Heavily,” she said. “In the past two months I’ve had one shot at it. I fired from only a dozen yards directly at its eye socket… and I might as well have thrown a wet rag at it.”

  Simonel grimaced at that. “You have other weapons?”

  Brooke nodded and drew a pair of curved blades from behind her back. He could see high magic runes worked into their surface. He was a bit surprised. Most mages turned their bodies into weapons and had disdain for personal combat, especially with crafted weapons. Among his own people, a mage might be able to spit acid, inject venom from glands buried under his fingernails, or extend bone spurs or retractable claws from fingertips, elbows or other locations. For that matter, two mage of the three mage Ancients of his people had modified themselves beyond what most would consider human, with Irios being half-man, half-horse and Khaval covered in bear-like fur and far bigger than any man Simonel had ever met. Only L’Aurel appeared outwardly human, and Simonel’s father had mentioned she had numerous concealed spellgrafts.

  Nakadi was quite possibly as old as those three… yet she appeared to be human in every aspect. Simonel didn’t know enough to say if that was because she was Maghali Khalakuri, because she was a Watcher, or if it was some personal preference.

  Maybe it was a combination of the three.

  “Lead the way,” Simonel said.

  She took up the lead, her cream and tan cat keeping pace with her. Simonel switched his spear to his left hand and drew Mede Khmali with his right hand. While the Bloodbeast might shrug the hunting spear off, he might be able to distract the creature with the weapon and land a killing blow with Mede Khmali.

  They walked in silence and Simonel strained his senses. The forest had gone abnormally quiet and as they followed the path he saw fewer and fewer animals. As an apex predator, the creature would have chased away most of the other predators and prey in the area.

  Ahead of them, the big cat Illiadan went still. Simonel paused. He listened and over the beat of his heart he heard the slightest rasp of claws on wood. To their side was an ancient oak, one of the boundary trees that the Maghali Khalakuri had planted to mark the inner border of his people's lands.

  Simonel spun, just as a two thousand pounds of corded muscle, claws, and teeth exploded out of the ancient tree's upper branches.

  Simonel dove under the creature's leap and then spun to face it. The bloodbeast spun impossibly fast for its size and gave a bellow. The hot stink of rotting blood washed over Simonel, thick enough to make him gag.

  With a shout, he threw his spear for its face, yet the creature didn't as much as flinch as the spear exploded into shards. Spellgrafts in the beast's hide flared into life and shielded it from the detonation.

  Before Shaden could follow up on the throw, it came at him in a long bound, its long arms giving it incredible reach as it sought to catch him. Simonel dove over one of those sweeping arms and then rolled to his feet and dodged the back-stroke.

  The big beast seemed confused at his speed and as it paused, he got a chance to study it. The base creature might have been a sloth, with its long, claw-tipped arms and hunched appearance. Yet the monster had twisted, serpentine look to it, with a massive, tooth-spiked maw on a wedge-shaped head.

  Its tiny eyes seemed out of place on that head, especially with the massive, enlarged nostrils, which flared as it scented the air.

  It exploded into motion again and Simonel ducked under a sweeping blow and rolled out of the way as the creature bore down upon him. He swung his blade at it, but it dodged aside, far too quick for Mede Khmali do do more than nick the beast's side. Simonel rolled back as a sweeping arm sought to disembowel him and only barely managed to roll clear.

  "I would appreciate your assistance," Simonel said as he saw Nakadi circle around to the right of the beast.

  "It's too fast," she said. "It would gut me before I could do more than distract it."

  At her words, the bloodbeast spun towards her and Simonel leapt into an attack, yet the beast spun back, jaws agape and Simonel barely stopped as the jaws snapped closed in front of him. He backed furiously as it took a swipe at him.

  Nakadi's cat swept past its rear and dove for one of its legs, but the bloodbeast's spellgrafts flared again and Illiadan bounced off with an angry yowl.

  "The horn!" Nakadi shouted, “Use the horn!”

  Simonel hesitated. Until now, he had not tried to use Medis Sakveri. I had not felt right to use it, merely to see if he could. He realized that he had feared that he could not use it, that he would not be worthy. I cannot let my doubts overwhelm me, he knew. To blow the horn, he had to project confidence, to channel his emotions and use those to fuel the magic of the horn.

  The bloodbeast spun and one arm lashed out at Nakadi. She tried to dodge the swing but Simonel saw it catch her a glancing blow. She tumbled away and the beast charged her.

  Without thought, Simonel leapt in front of her, raising the horn to his lips. He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate, he simply took a deep breath and ble
w.

  The high, clear note rang through the clearing. Simonel felt his blood rise, felt his worry and concern fall away. He felt revitalized and energized, ready to face anything.

  The bloodbeast staggered backwards as if he had hit it with a boulder. It hissed at him and its nostrils flared. The creature’s tiny black eyes glittered balefully as it sought to understand.

  Simonel blew the horn again and this time the creature flinched as if he’d struck it a physical blow. As it flinched back, Simonel bound forward, his blade swinging. Mede Khmali struck the beast’s arm just behind the wrist. The runes on his sword flared into life and severed the creature’s front paw. Black blood gushed forth in a spray that slackened off as he watched.

  The bloodbeast gave a shriek of pain and fear and scuttled backwards. The spellgrafts on its hide burned with light as it tried to use the wounded limb to shield itself.

  Simonel blew the horn again and the huge creature stumbled. Simonel stepped in and thrust with his blade for the creature’s face. It brought the wounded limb up in time to block.

  The creature backed away and behind him, he heard Nakadi shout, “Do not let it get away, it will heal. You must finish it!”

  As the creature backed on three limbs, Simonel rushed forward to strike at its remaining foreleg just as it put weight upon it. Mede Khmali sliced through the monster’s leg easily and it let out an anguished scream as it swayed and fell.

  Yet as he closed to finish it, it lurched up, standing upright on its rear legs. It gave a roar and strode forward jaws spread wide as it came at him.

  Simonel gave a defiant shout and then leapt forwards and to the side, swinging his blade at the creature’s neck with all his might. As his blade struck, the spellgrafts all across the creature’s body flared bright. For the first time, he felt actual resistance as the protective wardings of the creature fought him.

  Whoever the creator of the bloodbeast had been, he wasn’t a match for the power of Mede Khmali for the blade cut through, even as the beast’s hide ignited as his spellgrafts burned too hot and failed.