Darkblade Seeker: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (Hero of Darkness Book 4)

by Andy Peloquin

  With a sinking in his gut, he gripped the blade and retrieved his fallen sword.

  "Good." Master Eldor nodded his satisfaction. "Let's see if you remember anything I've taught you."

  Steel rang off steel as the Hunter blocked the overhand chop. He parried the follow-up low blow, twisted aside from a quick thrust, and countered with a slash. Master Eldor's sword knocked his blade wide, and the tip scored a deep cut in the Hunter's cheek.

  With a growl, the Hunter went on the offense. He hacked and chopped—not at the man, but the weapons. If he could knock away Master Eldor's iron dagger, he could overpower the man and render him unconscious. The stubborn look in the Elivasti's eyes made it clear: it was the only way he'd get around the blademaster.

  Master Eldor seemed to sense his intention. He deflected the strikes, using the iron dagger in tandem with his sword. The Hunter concentrated on keeping the short blade well away from him. Master Eldor used that to his advantage. As the Hunter avoided wild swipes of the dagger, his steel sword darted through the Hunter's guard, cutting, slicing, and piercing flesh and muscle. Blood dripped from a half-dozen wounds. The stinging wounds slowed him, sapped his strength.

  Frustration coursed through the Hunter. He had no desire to fight, and Master Eldor was cutting him to shreds. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he raised his blades and prepared for another onslaught.

  The Elivasti shook his head. "Like I told you earlier, you rely too much on your ability to heal." His voice turned lecturing, and he held up the iron dagger. "You think this is your primary threat, but I don't need iron to stop you. Not even you can survive without a head. You have to think about all threats at once. Build a cage of steel around you, and do not let anything in."

  The words caught the Hunter off guard. Is he…teaching me?

  Master Eldor tapped a temple. "Fight with your head, not your arms."

  The Elivasti attacked again, swiping, striking, and slashing with both weapons. The Hunter fell on the defensive, blocking and deflecting blows without returning them. His eyes followed Master Eldor's movements. His brain catalogued the seemingly random series of feints, thrusts, and parries, searching for a pattern. He had to learn how Master Eldor moved, had to figure out how to overpower the man without killing him.

  Master Eldor disengaged, nodding. "Better. But you're still committing too much energy to your strikes. You'll tire too quickly that way." His sword darted toward the Hunter's head, forcing him to block. The Elivasti's blade struck the Hunter's without real force—a feint. The sword's flat slammed into his ribs with bruising strength. "Make your opponent think you will do one thing, then do another. Be the unexpected."

  Confusion whirled in the Hunter's mind. What in the scorching hell is he doing? Anger and frustration set his hands trembling. "Why teach me if you're going to kill me?"

  Master Eldor met his gaze without hesitation. "It's the only way."

  "To what?"

  "To keep you alive!" Master Eldor's eyes burned like twin suns. "The moment I saw the way he looked at you, I knew he'd try to use you. Both of them would."

  The Hunter's jaw dropped. During their training sessions, the old Elivasti had driven him beyond the point of collapse. He'd believed it to be nothing more than Master Eldor's style of training, and he'd borne the strain for the sake of improvement. But the Elivasti's words hinted at more than just simple instructions.

  "So it was all to keep me alive?"

  The Elivasti nodded. "I've seen what they do when their so-called allies have served their purpose. I couldn't let that happen to you. It's why I kept your true identity secret from the Sage last time you were here, and it's why I now pushed you to your limits. I had no choice. I had to get you back to your best form, the way you were when you walked away all those years ago. It is the only way you survive this."

  The Hunter's mind raced. "Survive this?" He stabbed a finger at the old Elivasti. "You're here to stop me—"

  "Or die trying." The tone of Master Eldor's voice spoke volumes. "We have only one way past this. I will not let you pass, and you will not stop. Only one of us will walk out of these tunnels alive." His expression grew grim, determined. "What will happen to your boy if that one is not you? I have my orders."

  Master Eldor's sword flicked out in a blur. The Hunter turned the strike aside and he threw himself into a forward lunge meant to skewer Master Eldor's shoulder. He had to render the old man's sword arm useless if he had a chance of overpowering him. His form was perfect, but Master Eldor blocked, sending the sword wide. The Hunter's boot struck a patch of blood and slipped out from beneath him. His left arm swung out to catch his balance, leaving his midsection exposed.

  Horror coursed through him. The world slowed as Master Eldor raised the iron dagger high. Unable to move, the Hunter steeled himself in expectation of the blow that would surely kill him. Fire burned in his neck as Master Eldor's blade laid open his throat. But instead of the agony of iron's poison, the pain was…normal.

  Clasping a hand to his throat, the Hunter staggered backward. His eyes remained fixed on the bloodstained tip of Master Eldor's long sword.

  What? His mind struggled to comprehend what had happened. He has to know iron will kill me, yet he attacked with steel.

  In his shock, he paid little attention to the blood gushing from his neck. A dim part of his mind focused on healing the wound while the rest of his mind struggled to comprehend.

  Master Eldor didn't make mistakes. The blademaster had to have known precisely what he was doing. That meant…

  Keeper's teeth! His eye darted to the iron blade in the Elivasti's offhand. In his mind, he replayed the minutes of furious combat. More than once, he'd twisted out of the path of the iron dagger. He'd thought his skill and speed had saved him, but he knew different now. Master Eldor had never fully committed to any of the strikes. They were nothing more than a distraction.

  As the gush of blood from his neck slowed, the Hunter straightened. He sought Master Eldor's violet eyes. Understanding flashed between them, and the old man inclined his head.

  Frustration and rage set the Hunter's hands trembling. "Don't make me do this!" His throat tightened, his breath coming fast. "I-I can't."

  A smile played on Master Eldor's lips. "We do what we must." The wrinkles on Master Eldor's forehead smoothed, and peace filled his eyes. "Forgive an old man with more honor than good sense."

  Realization struck the Hunter like a physical blow. He's willing to die.

  A lump formed in his throat. "Why?"

  Pain clouded Master Eldor's eyes. "For my son."

  Shock coursed through the Hunter. What is he talking about?

  "I failed to protect him from the Irrsinnon, and the opia. But I can give you a fighting chance. I cannot raise a hand against the one I have sworn my loyalty to. I will not endanger what remains of my people by breaking my oath."

  The Hunter found his mouth suddenly dry, and he swallowed. "Don't make me do this."

  "It's the only way." A small smile spread Master Eldor's lips. "I'm old, not blind. I have spent many an hour studying a Nizaa board across from that creature. I know the way his mind works, the way he thinks. I knew he'd turn you against the Warmaster, and when he was done with you…"

  "He'd send you after me." Rage twisted in the Hunter's chest. He wanted to scream, to protest that the Sage had ordered Master Eldor to face him because only the Elivasti blademaster could defeat the one who had killed the Warmaster. But he knew the Sage, knew the Abiarazi. They delighted in tormenting others. And not just their flesh. The First had branded Farida before leaving her body on the edge of the Midden. Toramin had murdered Bardin before his eyes. The demons knew how to rip a man's soul to pieces.

  The Hunter clenched his fists in frustration. "You don't have to do this. Your oath means nothing to one such as him. The things he has done to this world, to so many innocents! Help me find justice for them."

  A sad smile spread on Master Eldor's face. "For many years, I have bo
rne the burden of guilt for my actions, my contributions to their machinations. I will soon be free."

  He advanced. His sword slashed, thrust, and chopped with terrible speed and grace. The whirling blades seemed to attack from all sides. Just as the Hunter believed he'd learned the Elivasti's patterns, the old warrior changed it. He struck without apparent rhythm, each movement deadly efficient.

  Even as the Hunter gave ground, his mind raced for a solution. I won't let the Sage win! If he killed Master Eldor, the Sage would have outwitted him—just as he had in all their games of Nizaa. The demon was a master strategist, and he'd forced the Hunter into a confrontation from which there was no escape. Either he died or killed the only link to his past. But what could he do?

  Desperation forced his hand. Time to try a different tactic!

  With all the force he could muster, he brought his sword up and slammed it into Master Eldor's blade, knocking the sword wide. Lowering his head, he charged the Elivasti. His inhuman strength far surpassed that of an old man. He could overpower Master Eldor and render him unconscious long enough to hunt down the Sage.

  His reaching arms met empty air. Master Eldor moved with the grace of flowing water, shifting out of the Hunter's path. Something slammed into the back of the Hunter's head, sending him staggering. He rebounded off a stone wall and sagged. Even as he climbed to his feet, an arm snaked around his neck and bent him backward. His feet left the ground, and he flew through the air to land in a heap at the entrance to the tunnel.

  The Elivasti stood firm, eyes locked on to him. "I cannot let you pass."

  The Hunter wanted to scream his rage into the tunnels. His hand instinctively went to his tunic, and he felt the raised flesh of the scars on his chest. He wanted to argue, but he couldn't. The Sage had Hailen. Gods alone knew what he would do to the boy once Master Eldor killed the Hunter. Hailen's life depended on him.

  His inner demon screamed. “Do it!”

  Sorrow settled like a weight in the Hunter's gut. With a heavy heart and leaden arms, he stood and raised his sword in salute.

  Master Eldor returned the gesture with one of his own, a rueful grin on his face. "Let's get this over with, boy."

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  The Hunter hacked and slashed at the old Elivasti with half-hearted effort. Master Eldor turned his strikes aside, sneering. "You can do better than that. You must!" His riposte opened a long gash in the Hunter's sword arm.

  The Hunter poured every shred of speed and strength into his movements. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he chopped away at the Elivasti's defenses. The sharp, commanding voice of his teacher snapped at him to move faster, to strike harder. Instinct honed by years of training kicked in, and his movements grew more fluid and graceful with each step. He thrust, lunged, and parried as the Elivasti blademaster had taught him.

  Yet his speed and strength failed in the face of Master Eldor's skill. The Hunter outmatched him in brute force, but Master Eldor refused to meet him blade to blade. He deflected rather than blocked, his body a never-ending blur as he ducked, dodged, and twisted aside. His sword darted in and out of the Hunter's guard, drawing blood with each strike. Within minutes, crimson stained more of his stolen monochromatic uniform. Master Eldor's clothing remained unsullied.

  The Hunter could see why the Sage had left the old man to face him. Master Eldor's skill rivaled that of the Warmaster. The Warmaster fought with the raw power of his kind; Master Eldor moved with decades of experience and training behind each strike. He seemed to sense each attack before it came. Try as he might, the Hunter could never anticipate his movements.

  Master Eldor spoke in a low growl. "Remember the boy." He thrust a hand behind him. "Do it for him."

  The lump in the Hunter's throat prevented him from forming words. Anguish slowed his movements and turned limbs to lead. A roar burst from the Hunter's throat—a terrible, primal sound fueled by his sorrow, fury, and despair. The Sage had left him no choice: either way, someone who mattered to him would suffer.

  The Hunter pushed himself to greater speed. The ring of steel on steel echoed through the tunnels, and sparks flew as his sword clashed with the old man's blade. The two weapons—forged by the hand of an Elivasti blademaster—groaned beneath the impacts. Though he bled from too many wounds, the Hunter pressed on.

  Hailen's life hung in the balance.

  The Hunter darted forward, his sword extended in a perfect thrust. Master Eldor's blade came up to block, but the move had been a feint. Soulhunger batted the long sword aside. The Hunter prepared to parry the return blow. Master Eldor didn't even try. With a primal scream of fury, the Hunter plunged his sword into the blademaster's chest.

  The sword took the old man high, just above the heart. The impact sent him staggering, and he slumped to his knees, weapons clattering from nerveless fingers.

  "Congratulations…boy." His smile widened as he stared up at the Hunter. "If it…had to be anyone…I'm glad it's…you."

  The Hunter dropped Soulhunger and fell to his knees beside the Elivasti. "Damn you, old man!" He cradled the old man's head in his lap. An invisible hand squeezed his heart, pushed the breath from his lungs.

  Master Eldor coughed, spattering the Hunter's face with blood. Groaning, he fumbled for the Hunter's hand. Even in his final moments, the old man's grip held surprising strength.

  The Hunter's throat tightened, his stomach twisting. He gripped the Elivasti's hand tighter. He couldn't leave, not yet.

  Master Eldor's voice grew faint, weak. "A final…word. Remember…my lessons. Remember…what I taught…you and Aerden."

  Something snapped free in the Hunter's mind at the name. Images and sensations cascaded over him. Suddenly, he no longer sat in the darkened Serenii tunnels beneath Kara-ket.

  A cool breeze wafted across his sweat-soaked face and tunic. He leaned on his knees, wheezing. A young man lay groaning in the dust at his feet.

  Master Eldor watched them from a canvas chair beside the training field. "What is your mistake, Aerden?"

  "My mistake?" Frustration glowed in Aerden's eyes. "I made none. He's just been training longer."

  He grinned and offered the young man a hand. "Wrong answer, Aer." He pulled a scowling Aerden to his feet

  Master Eldor stood and strode toward them. "Listen well, Aerden, and I will teach you the lesson I gave young Rivan here." The Elivasti's hand fell on his shoulder. "Do not fight to survive. Fight to defeat your opponent so utterly that he will not rise again. Destroy a man, and you need not fear his vengeance."

  "That's what I'm—"

  Master Eldor's cane cracked against the youth's shoulder. "Heed my advice, boy. It will save your life." He returned to his seat and waved for them to continue. "Now, the Stonemason. Again!"

  He settled into a low stance, sword at the ready.

  Aerden stood with a vacant expression, eyes fixed on empty air. Words spilled from his mouth in an unintelligible mumble. The twitch in his fingers ran up his arm.

  "Aerden!" Master Eldor's cane cracked against the wooden arm rests of his chair. "Focus."

  The blank stare retreated, and the intelligent Aerden returned. "Bet you can't throw me again, Rivan."

  "You're on."

  The setting shifted, and the Hunter no longer stood on the training field.

  With a groan, he reclined in his sleeping roll. His ribs ached, and his head throbbed where Aerden had cracked him.

  Aerden stumbled into the tent and thrust a wineskin toward him. "After the day we've had, Rivan, you'll want some of this."

  The thin wine slid down his throat, washing away the dust from a day spent training. "Where did you get this, Aerden?"

  The young man grinned. "Everyone's too busy with the temple feast to pay attention to the stores. Easy for clever fingers to make off with one sling."

  "You know what your father will do if he catches you drinking, right?"

  "Makes it all the more fun!" Aerden took a long pull from the skin. "After a day like today, I need
it." A scowl creased his brow. Then the youth's eyes took on a blank look, his features growing slack.

  He hated seeing Aerden like this. The young Elivasti's condition had grown worse lately. "He pushes you because he cares, you know. You're his son."

  "The son of the last Elivasti blademaster? You have no idea how tiresome it is to hear people remarking how alike we are." The young man glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. "You wouldn't know. You're his favorite."

  He snorted. "He just likes me because I don't whine as much, Aerden."

  Aerden's scowl deepened. "I can't wait until the Expurgation. Once I've received the opia, I'll finally be free of this place…free of him! I can go wherever I please."

  "Your father casts a large shadow, Aerden." He rested a hand on the youth's arm. "But you'll make your own mark. Just give it time."

  With a grimace, Aerden emptied the skin. "If only it were that easy."

  "Better get rid of that thing before he catches you." He grinned. "You're no use as a sparring partner if you're black and blue."

  Returning the smile, Aerden hurried from the tent.

  Time flashed by in a heartbeat, and the Hunter found himself in a familiar memory.

  He lay in bed, too exhausted to move. The day of training had taken its toll on him.

  And yet, he forced himself to rise. He rummaged in the darkened tent until his hands closed on his pack. Slinging it over his shoulder, he stepped from the tent.

  He glanced over his shoulder, staring at the empty cot. Master Eldor had tried to give him a new partner to share the tent. He'd have no one else but Aerden.

  A cool midnight breeze washed over him. He shivered and pulled his pilfered cloak tighter about him. No fires burned in camp this night. No guards stood on watch. The Elivasti feared no attack; none knew they were even camped here.

  Anger flared bright in the Hunter's chest at the sight of Master Eldor's tent. He pushed aside his sorrow; he had no time to feel remorse for leaving the Elivasti camp. Not after what had happened.