The doors to an immense stone stairwell were guarded by obvious members of the White Spider who came to attention and bowed upon the passing of the ensemble. No questions asked of Rinicus or his troupe, just a simple nod and passage. Torchlight, some real, some arcane and false, covered the descent into the true underworld of Devonmir. A second set of double iron doors opened by the hands of two ogre slaves covered in spiked armor. Chalas snorted up at them, taunting them to make a move or a noise of disfavor; anything to give the brown horned killer a reason to spill blood. The second arena was surprisingly different to the minotaur and the lady assassin. Intimate, smaller, set on dark stone seats and pillars, and reeking of expensive and savory incense. Perhaps five to seven thousand could sit, and with it completely concealed and underground, every breath could be heard.
“Welcome to Ajastaphan, the famed arena of the nobility, the wealthy, and those that do not wish to be seen. Most of the nobles from around the known world will be masked, the wealthy are well guarded, and the matches here are always to the death. The women of the most beautiful sorts, the best slaves and gladiators, and more gold flows through here in one night than Johnas sees in a year. Problem is, we only have a foothold on a few moneylenders, merchants, and traders. There is little trust among the people of this class that travel from great distances to gamble and promote gambling on blood here. One miscued greeting or blink, and you may not even be allowed to speak to that specific prince or lord again. These people have their own power and prestige, they do not seek to be a part of anything else. Should any of them be found out here, it would tarnish their titles; so they live in that secret fear. It’s a game at the games for them. We do what we can to profit, and we do well. However, we are limited in growing in our normal ways, if you will. Murdering nobles here will only end the operation, not have use overtake it.” Rinicus continued walking through the aisles of the hidden arena, holding his hand close to his chest. He thought of the ogre, armored trolls, captured giants, and all other manner of beast he would like to set against this minotaur and see him dead. His mind began plotting, hoping the brute would be stupid and eager enough to get in there.
“Any undefeated gladiators here, spared one?” Chalas demanded from the wounded human that led them, caring nothing for the debilitating injury.
“Mafahann, the two headed ogre of Bloodskull. Twenty nine victories here, in other arenas throughout Agara, he supposedly has many more. His master is one of the Lords of Devonmir, Koligail the wicked, a wizard of the most feared sort. He adorns his chosen warriors with-“
“I will fight this Mafahann the two headed, arrange it. I care not who his master is or what he wears. Every warrior I face suffers the same fate.” the brown veteran horned killer glared at the arena, the craving and need to kill was overwhelming to him in a place like this.
“We have business to attend to Kalaza, and –“
“Quiet woman.” he snorted and flexed his muscles as if he were already fighting. Something, the smell of blood or the sight of the arena, came over him. “Place all your coin on the ogre if you like, but I will be the only undefeated one here.”
“Your ego borders on insanity, minotaur. You know nothing of subtlety or tact, everything to you is rage and bloodshed. I wonder what exactly Johnas was thinking in sending you with me.” Kaya turned up her nose, realizing that Rinicus would be arranging Chalas to be killed which would leave her alone here with plenty of enemies within her own guild. She could not convey those fears, not with present company. Even in private with this murderous gladiator, she doubted that he would care.
“Mafahann usually faces three or more gladiators at a time, Kalaza. But for you, I will see if I can arrange a special match.” Rinicus sneered. He took good notice of the rivalry between Kaya and her pet beast.
Angeline II:II
City of Harlaheim
Light mist settled across the docks of Harlaheim, nighttime mists from a rain that was far too stubborn to commit to much more. The armored and green robed warrior had said her farewells aloud to the crew of the Shorewarden, the small merchant longship that she had been on this last week. Speaking her words out loud was still difficult for Angeline after seven long years of silence. The journey had been rough with the late winter storms in southern Agara, and it looked as if the eastern seaboard of the continent fared no better. Besides the lack of snow, Harlaheim kept the same chill at the forefront of greetings on a dark windy night. The lantern and torchlight seemed less inviting than her last visit to the kingdom many years ago, and her thoughts concentrated on her priorities at hand instead of comparing the dismal scene with more fond ones of her past.
Angeline tried to sense Gwenneth as she walked the docks alone, and could barely catch a glimpse of her spiritually. She thought of Soujan Mountain and Ansharr where she had spent several years in training with her peers and masters. From that vantage point, the mysterious lady warrior knew she could find anyone through peaceful connections and meditation. Here there was much chaos and disturbance that clouded the energies she felt, and her senses were always dulled in large civilizations that forced nature out. She could feel wars raging and powerful arcane magicks in place near the tower to the west. Castle L’Herrim had an enormous cry of betrayal radiating from its walls, and many figures and spirits here were dark and wicked throughout the massive city. In all directions, Angeline Berren felt as if she were striding into a den of maliciousness and despair. The dark auras she saw and felt surrounded her, followed her, and preceded her every step.
Reddish and blonde wisps of wet curled hair whipped across her face, yet she kept focus, one hand now on the hilt of her hand-and-a-half blade. The pier was long and relief came as she made it to the end and onto solid ground of the wharf markets. Though late and foul of weather, hundreds of men loaded, traded, and moved around the piers of the ancient city. Almost sixty tradeships of various sizes and standards lined the bay, hers was one of four that had arrived this evening which attested to the abnormal amount of late evening shuffling. She stopped, sensing her steps were being paid far too much attention to by someone nearby. Angeline drew her bastard sword, placing both hands on the hilt and turning round. Nothing. The sensation was gone, no longer behind her or to the side, in the water, it was simply not there anymore. Besides the occasional elder wizard using arcane means to teleport in and out of physical existence in Vallakazz, Angeline had never felt something creep up near her and then disappear. Seeing the strange looks from passersby, the Agarian woman sheathed her blade and walked at a more brisk pace into the darker capital of Harlaheim.
She rushed at a fast march through the spire haunted alleyways and shadows of castle walls. Paying no mind to the slick cobblestone streets or massing puddles, Angeline kept moving east through the city. The presence came and went, yet constant enough to the lady of the Knights Soujan, keepers of the Gods and Goddesses, to know that she was being followed. All her training under the sacred mountain had given her a depth to her senses, senses derived from the earth, the wind, the moons, and nature itself. The sleeping mistress of the earth and the fey had blessed her with the ability to reach out to the spirits and whispers that no mortal was even aware of. Every one of those senses told her that something unnatural was close and approaching, something or someone that she had felt before. Angeline turned the corner next to a large domed and abandoned temple to Alden, drew her sword, and waited as the presence came closer.
Rats scurried past along the gray stone wall, on a mission for food and shelter. Nothing but the faint drone of the taverns and travelers disrupted the silence in the alley, yet Angeline was ready for what she knew to be there. A figure moved in the dark recesses of the shadow of the dome behind her. The Soujan Knight stepped from the wall and stood in the middle of the broken street to face her pursuer. “I am Angeline Berren of Kivanis, who is it that dares hunt me?”
“It is you who has been tracking me, mysterious one. This time, you do not have an entire city behind you. We are alone.�
�� the dark figure drew a blade, then a second one and strode toward the woman that he knew to be more than a city guard of Vallakazz. What she was, he still did not know, but intended to find out.
Angeline never spoke her title, devotion, or the secret order of which she was ordained. The Knights Soujan had been hunted and killed thousands of years ago with the rise of Alden and the persecution of other faiths to the north and west. The sole remaining temple was under Soujan Mountain, and that too, was a secret that carried more importance than even her life. She looked as the faint moonlight hit his face, and then she remembered. The black swirls and marks of a curse, the pale elven skin and pointed ears, his dark hair and green menacing eyes, she knew this assassin. Knew him from the Temple of Golden Mercy in Vallakazz where he was hunting Gwenneth and her companions, where he had murdered a priest and many of the White Spider.
“You will not find what you seek here, I assure you. Only a quick death awaits you in this alley.” Angeline bowed her head slightly. Closed her eyes for a moment of silent prayer to Seirena and Megos, and stepped forward.
“If I had a platinum coin for every time I heard that, I would be king. Let us see who finds death faster, shall we?” Kendari held his off-hand longsword reverse as always, and Shiver out in front on guard in his right hand, the magical heat rippling in the shadowcast air. The Nadderi swordsman knew this woman had been following him since their brief encounter in Vallakazz. To Kendari, it was no mistake that she crossed his path again; and if it was, he would only be erring on the side of safety. Either way, they had an unfinished duel long overdue.
Angeline stepped forward, sword held out high, steps direct and balanced, and the wind at her back. She could feel the air surround her and it let her know in her cleared mind that it was there to help guide her. Her senses could feel a tangible evil surrounding this cursed elf, and her focus strengthened to her movements, the sacred sword in her hands. She glared at the assassin that was approaching her in the alleyway. Her calm and unblinking blue eyes fixated upon the wicked green eyed stare of her opponent.
Kendari circled to his left, his right foot sidestepping over his left as he twirled the hot edge of his longsword over and over in his hand. Angeline kept the circle moving in the exact same manner, step by step, waiting for his blades to move but watching his body movements for the signs of when he would strike. He stopped, lowered his blades, and hung his head with a smile. His posture went completely lax and unguarded, as if he did not wish to fight all of the sudden.
“This is ridiculous, really. I have not even introduced myself, which is very disrespectful to us both. I am Kendari of Stillwood and-” Kendari feigned to sheath one of his blades then dove forward in a double bladed lunge. His attack missed her ribs by hairs, the backheld sword cut across at her abdomen which she barely parried. Shiver cut up toward the woman’s face, and her blade turned up into a cross parry as she backpeddaled further down the alley. The Nadderi swordsman had tried to catch her off guard, but her reflexes were fast and her senses very active; this woman could not be fooled easily. He did not let up, crosscutting with his reverse held longblade with the heavy pyramid pommel, then quickly turning with his heat emitting longsword into arcs and slashes toward her upper body. Each attack was met with the two-handed blade of the woman as she withdrew with constant secure steps.
Steel rang in rapid consecutive blows as the lady of the Knights Soujan felt the air help guide her defenses against the twin blades of the marked elven assassin. Angeline took a deep breath in, holding it tight and sensing her body lose its weight to the ground just enough for her arms and legs to keep pace with her assailant. She felt the stone send small vibrations as to the change in pressure from the Nadderi elf’s movements, allowing her to know his movements as he made them. Her sacred blade moved with her senses and inhumanly quick reactions. The tip of the hand-and-a-half sword pointed down to stop the low cuts from his left, while she raised the crossguard and length back and forth to deflect the precise attacks from the elf’s right.
Fearing and seeing Kendari’s edges getting closer past her blade, Angeline rushed backward into the wall and placed her left boot heel on the worn and mossy stone. As the double sword wielding blademaster pursued, she pushed off the wall and hurled through the air. Her sword twirled in her hands, deflecting Shiver’s hot edge and nearly taking off the head of the ducking Nadderi elf. Her body turned in midair and her boots landed firmly on the opposing alley wall standing impossibly vertical, fifteen feet later. Another jump from her sideways stance that defied gravity sent her into a flip that ended behind Kendari. Her blade was already cutting and arcing on the advance against the shocked assassin as her feet hit the cobblestones like feathers.
Crossing his blades to stop the heavy assault of the green robed warrior, Kendari could not help but be amazed at her movements. “I must know…” he feigned to kick her in the abdomen as their blades locked, but she turned to the left and returned with a boot heel of her own right into his chest which sent him backwards and stumbling. He caught his breath, “…where did you learn to do that?”
“Why?” Angeline kept her offensive mindset, stepping up quickly on the elf as he regrouped and tried to distract her with conversation.
“So I can identify and kill any other flying humans, it’s just not natural.” Kendari spun low with his left blade in close to her thighs, then drove subsequent piercing attacks with Shiver at her chest. As he parried them all, his reverse held longsword cut across her forearm, then his heel turned sideways and planted into her stomach, followed by a final spin full circle ending with a downward stroke that glanced off of her bastard sword and sliced down her thigh. As she fell back onto her rear, Angeline’s blade came up just in time to stop the finishing cut meant for her throat. The Nadderi swordsman was face to face with his enemy, blades crossed inches in front of them as he pushed his blades into hers with all his weight.
Angeline felt the hot blistering from her bleeding leg, the sting in her cut forearm, and had not caught her breath from the kick to her diaphragm yet. Her arms barely holding him back and starting to tremble as her shoulderblades touched the cobblestone, Kendari ontop of her with death in his eyes. She felt and saw four figures in the alley behind the back of the cursed elf, not twenty steps away. She looked into the murderous eyes of Kendari, whose gaze was not on her but ahead down the other end of the overshadowed city street. “We have attracted some attention here.” she stuttered out from her fluctuating lungs that fought to regain some air.
“White Spider is my guess. They won’t leave a witness. Five in front of us, how many behind?” Kendari whispered over his defeated foe.
“Four, three of them are hiding something small in their hands and stepping forward very cautiously. I can sense poison on the wind. Any ideas?” Angeline whispered back.
“Two in front have crossbows aimed. I will roll you to our left and throw you up at the wall. You take the four in the rear, I have the five ahead. We meet another night and I will finish you then. Agreed?” The Nadderi swordsman glanced at the strange female warrior, noticing her blue eyes blinking and a slight nod of agreement. Kendari thought about taking all nine himself and killing her right then, but in his precarious position, he decided otherwise.
“Agreed, but the outcome may well be different.” Angeline tightened her muscles and prepared to roll out of the middle of the alleyway and hurl herself at the wall once more.
“I hope so, for your sake. Ready?”
“Ready.”
Crossbows raised and fired, poisoned knives hurled through the air, and dark agents of the deadliest organization on three continents moved in on the surrounded pair of warriors. Kendari turned onto his shoulder and threw the woman he had just bested in battle across the alleyway directly at the wall of the abandoned temple. Her body turned through the air, spinning with blade and hair flowing behind, and heels landing on the side of the stone temple. The Nadderi elf kept rolling after his throw, keeping low to the ground a
s blades and arrows skittered across the wet cobblestone to where he and Angeline had just been a moment ago. Wind rushed past the cursed swordsman, pulled from the alley to his previous female enemy. She hovered with a forward momentum guided by the circling gusts under her feet that seemed to move at her command.
“I must learn to do that.” Kendari kicked his feet out and down, flipping to a low stance from the ground and charged down the alley toward the five agents of the White Spider.
Angeline Berren dove straight at the four black clad thugs that blocked the rear of the alleyway as the wind whipped her hair and green robes around her. The four men drew rapiers and shortblades then moved to surround the woman that had been fighting with the elf they intended on collecting the bounty on. The maiden of the Knights Soujan cut across in a rapid set of sweeping attacks that kept the distance between she and the four men with shorter swords. Two of them moved in with lunges of rapier tips regardless and the steel blades were knocked aside from the furious flashes of the Agarian woman’s bastard sword. The two other masked bounty hunters moved along the wall to flank her and keep her pinned, shortswords and daggers in hand. A mighty thrust from Angeline reached into the chest of one of her opponents causing him to withdraw and fall to his knees clutching the wound. She glanced to her left as she backed into the abandoned temple. Angeline saw a flash of black armor and steel in the midst of the other five, now four, men standing around Kendari. Feeling herded and trapped, her only chance to survive was to get into more open ground that the old building hopefully kept beyond the rotted door she kicked in with her boot heel. The three agents of the White Spider followed her inside, assuming to catch their wounded female victim either way she went.
The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns Page 30