In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords)

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In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) Page 39

by Tatum, David A


  Ruznak, though, had the strongest words. “My foster daughter is your wife, and she believes in you. If you make a widow of her, I know I’m dead as well... and I’ll be haunting you for the rest of your afterlife, so you had best fight well.”

  Maelgyn laughed bitterly. “Thanks, ‘gramps,’” he said. “If anything will make me want to kill this guy more than saving Svieda and all our lives, it’s the thought that your ugly face will be harassing me for all of eternity.”

  “I ain’t your gramps!” Ruznak snarled, but everyone knew he wasn’t serious. The tension had been broken, however, and his job was done.

  Paljor laughed from across the room. “The time for you to pretend you have a chance is over. The floor is clear. Come here, boy, and let me teach you a final lesson in ‘diplomacy!’”

  “Perhaps it is I who will be teaching you a lesson in humility, Paljor,” Maelgyn snapped back with a confidence he did not feel. He was neither an ideal swordsman nor a High Mage, in truth. He was a dabbler in swordsmanship and he had some raw, underdeveloped talent in magic. That combination was usually enough to combat the average soldier or the average mage without a serious strain, but... this was neither an average soldier nor an average mage. This was a High Mage, and one who likely had much more experience as a swordsman than Maelgyn. The only advantages he held were slight: His youth, his enthusiasm, and his schlipf. Well, the schlipf was more than a “slight” advantage, perhaps, but Maelgyn believed that it would be best to use its offensive capabilities to catch Paljor off guard, but it would also be his coup de grace. That was the totality of his plan, at this point, so he couldn’t afford to tip Paljor off by using Sekhar too early in the battle.

  Maelgyn threw his magic into his blood, hoping to make his strength and reaction time great enough to match the more experienced man. He then drew the sword Euleilla had made for him, and said a silent prayer that she would somehow survive this even if he did not. “Whenever you are ready, your ‘majesty,’” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

  “Then let us begin,” Paljor laughed, casually swinging his own sword a few times as if to loosen up. His sword looked to be a well-forged katana, not quite at the level of one of the Swords of Svieda but certainly a fine piece.

  Better equipped, stronger, more powerful, and more experienced, Maelgyn thought in resignation. Hopefully I at least have luck on my side.

  “Fight!” snapped the Seat refereeing the duel.

  It wasn’t all a rush of action straight from the get-go, like Maelgyn had been expecting. In his previous “real” combat experience, the moment two swordsmen got close to each other they would start fighting... which was only to be expected when there was the possibility that taking the time to evaluate your opponent could get you killed by his allies. This was a duel, however, which was a very different situation. He wasn’t sure when to attack, but thanks to Sekhar he would know when to block. He was relying entirely on that, hoping that he could possibly use a counterattacking style which would utilize his skills, both natural and magical, to the best of their ability.

  Left! Sekhar suddenly shouted to him. The living weapon knew of Maelgyn’s plans, and while he could have blocked for Maelgyn he opted to follow the plan as it had been set. Fortunately, Sekhar could remain hidden underneath cotton wraps and still sense danger as if he were in the open, or else it would have been too obvious that he was present to even attempt such a plan.

  Maelgyn leapt back, barely avoiding the katana as he brought his own sword up to launch a counterattack against Paljor’s right side. He pinned together the flats of both blades, forcing his opponent’s arm to hyperextend. He used the opportunity to bring his armored knee up into the Borden Islander’s arm, hoping to knock the sword out of his hands and end the battle quickly. Even though Paljor’s arm was bare, it felt like Maelgyn was kicking armor plating. He heard a crack from his knee, and moments later sharp pains raced up his leg.

  Remind me not to try that again, he thought absently to Sekhar, staggering slightly as he magically popped his dislocated kneecap back into place.

  Paljor, on the other hand, was unaffected by the blow. However, the action forced both of them to step back and re-evaluate each other. They circled around, each looking for another opening. Not able to find one, Maelgyn again decided to play defense and wait for an opportunity to counterattack.

  Parry! Fast! came the warning. It almost came too late, but with a flash of steel and all the magically enhanced speed he was able to muster he deflected a rapid flurry of blows. Maelgyn was forced to retreat, unable to either stand or counterattack under the furious onslaught. His eyes were not able to keep up with the speed of the attack, and only Sekhar’s extra senses kept him from being completely overwhelmed.

  This isn’t working, he thought.

  Do you want to change plans? I could help you even more if I could attack, Sekhar asked.

  Maelgyn managed to duck under one sword strike and roll away, putting some distance between them again and giving him another chance to re-evaluate the situation. No, he told Sekhar. Not yet. It seems, though, that I am outmatched defensively even with your aid. Let me try mounting some sort of offense and we’ll see how things go from there.

  I’ll watch for counterattacks, Sekhar thought back. But be careful – he’s good.

  I noticed that, Maelgyn replied wryly, preparing to attack. He decided to use as much speed as possible – if he could move fast enough that Paljor’s eyes couldn’t clearly see his movements, there was a slim chance he could win. After all, while he was only able to stop that last assault with the aid of a schlipf’s senses, he must have been the equal to Paljor in speed to block it. Without a schlipf of his own, Paljor would have to rely exclusively on his eyes to react. That was an advantage Maelgyn realized he might have.

  Unfortunately, Maelgyn couldn’t change the direction of his attacks fast enough to bring that speed to bear. Each time he launched an attack he only got a single blow in before being knocked back several steps by powerful parries with the flat of Paljor’s sword, ruining his chances to follow up with his newly discovered speed. However, those initial attacks were preventing Paljor from renewing his own offensive... although that would only be until Maelgyn was shoved back into a wall by Paljor’s defensive pushback.

  I have to think of something, he realized. A new plan... I need a whole new plan....

  He felt the wall coming up behind him, and suddenly had his idea. When he was given the final block that sent him slamming against the stone, he was expecting it. Rebounding off of the wall, he swung a powerful overhand strike. Paljor, of course, defended himself just as he had before – with a hard shove back, but no true counterstrike. Maelgyn’s sword tore itself apart cleanly as it hit the katana, slipped through, and reformed seamlessly on the other side. The longsword passed through all of Paljor’s defenses and slammed into his armor.

  Dragonhide was impervious to pure magic and some types of arrowheads, but it could nevertheless be pierced by a sharp sword or a heavy axe... usually. And Paljor’s golden dragonhide was slightly scratched by Maelgyn’s blade... but a scratch was all the damage he could manage despite landing a solid blow with all of his weight behind it. Maelgyn hadn’t even felt any magic trying to stop him... which meant that the armor, made from the dragonhide of a Golden Dragon instead of the usual Red or Black, could not be pierced with steel, either.

  Uh, oh, he thought.

  Paljor stepped back, not using the easy opportunity to kill Maelgyn then and there. He checked his blade carefully, and when he saw no defect he smiled slowly. “Oh, good,” he said absently. “It seems as if you are a mage, yourself. I was wondering how you were matching my attack.” He paused, and then grinned. “I guess that means I can start using my own magic as well.”

  For the first time, Maelgyn could feel Paljor’s magic flaring, slipping into the Borden Islander’s blood to strengthen his muscles. More magic came flying his way, shattering the sword Euleilla had made and sending the
shards flying into Maelgyn’s skin and throwing him to his feet.

  I was using all of my magic and Sekhar’s senses, yet he was able to outfight me using none of his own magic? This is not a fight I could have ever hoped to win, Maelgyn thought in horror.

  “So, just how powerful of a mage are you? Fourth rate, perhaps?”

  A magical attack calibrated to throw a Fourth Rate mage into the wall slammed into Maelgyn, but he was easily able to summon the necessary counter-magic to stop him. Fighting at this level was actually to the Sword Prince’s advantage – his practice with Euleilla made counter-magic his greatest magical combat skill, and his own dragon armor aided him even further. Paljor’s assault was deflected easily, and Maelgyn tried to gather the concentration necessary to both attack and defend.

  “Third Rate, perhaps?” Paljor continued. Maelgyn felt the force he was trying to combat start to rise with increasing speed. He was forced to abandon plans of his own offensive just to keep up. “Oh, ho, so you’re at least a Second Rate! No, a First! Well, this is a pleasant surprise... it’s been a long time since I had the challenge even of a Third Rate, much less a First. Pity you’re otherwise such a wimp.”

  Paljor’s attack slowed, or so it seemed. Compartmentalizing his mind, Maelgyn found the mental discipline to be able to defend himself and to finally lay into his enemy with his own magical assault.

  Paljor was caught off guard momentarily, and staggered back before recovering. “Well, well, well. Looks like we have High Mage potential, here. Shame it’s still just potential, though – if you had reached that potential before challenging me, we might have had the first duel of High Mages in all of history... and likely the last, considering how few of us there really are. What an amazing amount of talent can be found in the Sviedan royal line, eh?”

  Paljor redoubled his magical attack. Despite his best efforts at counter-magic, Maelgyn found himself slammed back against the wall. He could feel shards of his own exploded sword ripping through his skin, but Maelgyn had just enough strength to keep Paljor from damaging anything vital with them. Nevertheless, he was losing blood. Lost blood was an even greater danger to a mage, for as their blood ran out of their body so did some of the power of their magic. With that in mind, he did his best to seal the cuts as quickly as they appeared, but it was hard to concentrate enough to defend himself from multiple angles and heal himself at the same time. He had yet to feel the headache which would let him know that he had reached the limits of what he could get his magic to do, but he feared he would reach that point soon.

  “Oh, this is no fun,” Paljor sighed. “I had hoped for a real fight from you, but all you’re doing is trying to stay alive! I want that berserker rage so many people feel at this point in their lives, where they give up hope of survival and let me destroy them just so that they can try to get in one shot. Why don’t you try it? After all, my death is your goal, is it not?”

  “You won’t goad me into acting foolishly, Paljor,” Maelgyn replied, more calmly than he felt.

  Paljor shook his head. “It seems I need to give you a little... incentive, before you really push things into that stage of self-destruction I want from you. So, let’s see about what we can do to give you that incentive, shall we?”

  Without releasing his attack on Maelgyn, Paljor launched a powerful magical wave that slammed each of the observers of the duel into the walls of the circular chamber. Everyone, from the Seats to Maelgyn’s party, started struggling against the intensity of Paljor’s magic.

  Maelgyn, Sekhar thought to him. His back is to us, so we have the perfect opportunity to attack. Can you point your fist at him?

  What? Maelgyn thought back. What can you do?

  I can pierce even that grade of dragonhide armor as long as you point me directly at him, Sekhar explained. I am unaffected by his magic, but my power is too limited unless I am facing him directly.

  Maelgyn tried to move his arm but it wouldn’t budge. He was completely pinned by Paljor’s assault, and it was all he could to keep from bleeding out. Sorry, he thought. No good.

  Keep trying, Sekhar demanded. I’m the only thing around here which can pierce that armor!

  Paljor walked around the room. First, his attention was on the Seats. “So, who should I use to anger you, Maelgyn? I doubt you would care much for these turncoats, even if I would enjoy using them. They are complete strangers to you, after all.” He walked casually, as if he wasn’t fighting a mortal battle against what was now more than a score of enemies, until he came to the final Seat. “Although perhaps this traitor means something to you, hm?”

  “No!” Maelgyn cried, but there was nothing he could do as Paljor casually slit the throat of the straining Baron Uwelain. Without a word, without a visible protest of any kind, the idealist nobleman who had brought the hope of an end to the civil war between the Borden Isles and Svieda died.

  Paljor considered Maelgyn curiously. “Hm, so that upset you, didn’t it? But still you restrain yourself from a sacrificial attempt to destroy me. Perhaps I should move on to your other friends. Surely one of them should inspire a futile attack against to save them, don’t you think?”

  “Your fight is with me!” Maelgyn cried. “Leave my friends out of this. This is no longer a duel, it is treachery!”

  Paljor just ignored him, moving on down the line. “Let’s see. An Elf? Well, well, well... you do keep interesting company, don’t you, your highness? You claim to be a friend of the Dragons, and yet you consort with their greatest enemies. Although I suppose the Dragons aren’t alone in that – the Elves are everyone’s greatest enemies. Those ‘papers’ you correctly suspect me of having tell me all about that. Still, it’s pretty hard to kill an Elf. I can do it, of course – as you can see, even he can’t escape the force of my magic – but I think I’ll save him for last.

  “And you also have in your company a Dwarf! Magic doesn’t affect them, of course, so I have to use his own steel axe to hold him against the wall. You know, I’ve heard you can’t injure or kill these creatures by simply bludgeoning them? I think I would like to test that. We don’t really have the time, right now, though – you aren’t going to last long enough for me to finish him off.

  “And then there’s the Nekoji girl! There’s something odd about this one – it’s almost like she’s trying to use magic and can’t – but I would so love one of those fireproof cloaks you can make from their skins. Who wants to have to wash blood out of such a fine coat, though? I’ll wait until we can kill her cleanly.”

  Maelgyn continued struggling as Paljor went on down the row of people. He found he had just enough counter-magic to spare to make his arm move very slowly without significantly affecting his ability to staunch his bleeding wounds. At the rate he was going, however, Paljor would be through the line before he could point Sekhar at the man. And next on his path....

  “So, you’re the commoner who married a ‘Sword Prince,’ are you?” Paljor said, looking Euleilla up and down. “Not bad, I must say. Not the snappiest of dressers, but what does one expect from a commoner, anyway? And that hair is so awful it’s embarrassing! Still, I imagine she has her... uses.”

  Maelgyn felt Euleilla ‘flinch’ magically as Paljor rubbed a hand along her cheek. The action caused the deranged Sword King to step back in surprise. “Don’t you ever touch me, you cretin,” she declared, fighting back with all of her own magic. It wasn’t enough, of course, but it seemed to make him pause.

  “Oh, this won’t do at all,” Paljor sighed. “I had hoped to spare you for a while and taste your ‘charms,’ as I am sure many have before me, but you are a mage! I suppose I can still have fun by testing your skills, at least. So, what rate are you, anyway? Fourth? No, you’ve already demonstrated more power than that. At least a second... no, a first! I’m impressed, Maelgyn – for a commoner, you seem to have picked a powerful one.” He laughed. “Of course, that means she’s too powerful to play with. Looks like she’ll have to die!” His katana raised itself over his head
.

  “No!” Maelgyn shouted. His magic flared up around him. His subconscious took over his magical efforts to heal himself, as all his concentration focused on saving Euleilla. In his panic, adrenaline rushing through his veins, he found himself drawing upon a well of raw magical power he had never tapped into before. His arm began moving faster.

  Too slow too slow too slow too slow... he chanted mentally. Finally, he even started pulling from that magic that kept him from bleeding. Paljor had won, but Maelgyn could still sacrifice himself to stop this madman.

  Now!

  “Glug!” was all Paljor could say as he his body heaved when Sekhar’s blow hit him from behind. The feeling that a fiery icicle had been run through his chest was overwhelming, and he found himself having the hardest time catching his breath. He was also in more pain than he had ever experienced when he tried to breathe, and found himself too distracted to maintain the waves of magic he was using to pin everybody to the walls. Euleilla forced him to drop his sword, but he didn’t even pay any attention to that – he was much too concerned about what had happened to him.

  Paljor looked down, coughing some bloody foam out of his mouth as he did. That was when he saw it – the green spike of a schlipf thorn coming out of his chest, directly through his right lung. It missed his heart, but the wound was immediately crippling. He recognized the implement, however, and stepped forward to get away from it.

  “So,” Paljor rasped, now requiring all of his magic internally to keep himself alive and functioning. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you, your highness? I would never have expected you to sacrifice yourself for a schlipf.”

  “I didn’t sacrifice myself,” Maelgyn replied, breathing heavily himself. Now both of them were badly wounded, but Paljor still could win. If Maelgyn showed any weakness, Paljor could launch a fatal attack instantly. “He’s a volunteer. Few of the weaknesses and all of the strengths.”

 

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