Banner Lord

by Jason L. McWhirter

  Tearial stepped closer, her appraising eyes taking in his body. “You are Ull Therm?” she asked reverently, recognizing the sigils.

  “I am.”

  She smiled, her expression a mixture of excitement, and maybe even lust, though it would be difficult to ascertain whether the lust was for battle...or otherwise. “I have never fought an Ull Therm.”

  Brant was barely hearing her. He was not looking forward to this bout. Fighting for him was not a match with blunted swords. It was blood and death, and he was afraid he would not be able to maintain proper control for such a bout. He had a difficult time controlling himself with Kulvar Rand, and in fact had lost control on numerous occasions. Luckily though, during his year and half of training with the master swordsman, he had learned to control his anger, at least to some degree. But checking his anger against Kulvar Rand was one thing, as he knew what to expect. But fighting Tearial, despite the skill she just displayed, would not be the same. He did not know how she moved nor of the power of her strikes. Holding back was nearly impossible for him and he was afraid that if he didn’t he might hurt her. But she seemed very skilled; perhaps he should be more worried about getting hurt himself. Shutting his mind off, there was no point in further thought, as the outcome would come to fruition soon enough.

  “Will you be using the same weapon?” Brant asked.

  “Yes,” she replied, stepping away from him.

  Brant went to the rack and immediately found the oswith. The two bladed weapon had a handle in the middle and each blade was slightly curved, sharp on one side only. When holding the weapon, one blade blocked the forearm and the other curved out like a short sword. If one were skilled in its use, the weapon could be quickly spun, using both blades to attack and to defend. Few had sufficient skill with the Schulg weapon, but while in the pits it was Brant’s weapon of choice. Tearial’s eyebrows rose with interest as he lifted the weapon from the rack.

  Even the king was interested. “Who is this Brant?” he asked Jarak, as the two combatants faced one another.

  “That is a long story. But I think your wife is about to find out.”

  King Elwyn looked at Jarak, his interest piqued, before returning his gaze to the fight. He didn’t want to miss anything.

  Tearial resumed her customary starting position. Brant, feeling the weapon in his hands, fought back the familiar urge to kill. Maybe he shouldn’t have picked the oswith, as its connection to the pits and his life as a killer was far too familiar.

  Then she attacked, just as she had with Aldgar. Her spear spun in a blur and the blunted blade darted as quickly as a striking adder. Brant spun the oswith left and right, the blades on either end deflecting her blades. Tearial then lunged forward powerfully, the tip of her spear aimed right for his chest. Pivoting to the side and forward, the blunted point whooshed by him. Brant snapped his oswith forward and amazingly Tearial used her foot, kicking his wrist to avoid the strike, then springing straight into the air, her other leg spinning around and connecting solidly with Brant’s face.

  The momentum knocked Brant aside as Tearial spun away. His nose was bleeding and he tasted blood in his mouth. Brant’s eyes narrowed, any restraint now quashed, as his killer instinct surfaced. Tearial saw it in his eyes and she hesitated briefly. That's when Brant attacked. Despite his large muscular frame, he moved as quickly and as agilely as she. Mastering the Ga’ton had given him great flexibility, strength, speed, and power, just as Tangar said it would. Their weapons came together again and again as they moved across the tiles. Tearial’s spear nearly found his flesh several times, but Brant was there every time, the blades of his oswith deflecting her attacks. Again she tried her quick powerful lunge, hoping to catch Brant in the chest. But he had purposely given her the opening, hoping she would try the move again. The spear tip came at him, as quickly as before. Tilting his body to the side, he narrowly avoided the attack, his oswith blade flicking out and his strong wrists snapping the blade forward so powerfully that her spear was flung sideways, nearly a pace away from him. Tearial couldn't conceal her surprise at the immense speed and power of his counterattack. And just as quickly Brant stepped into her, the other end of the oswith striking her across the stomach as he spun away.

  Tearial grunted in surprise, the wind nearly knocked from her lungs. The oswith’s blades were dull and the tip blunted, but the power of the strike had drawn a line of red across her flesh, just breaking through the skin.

  Cat brought her hand to her mouth as Jarak, still holding onto her leg, squeezed it nervously. King Elwyn looked on with shock.

  Brant turned to face Tearial, his eyes smoldering. “That’s one.”

  Tearial regained her composure and reset her legs. Growling, she rushed him, her spear spinning in quickly. They danced together for quite some time, each warrior blocking and attacking expertly as they spun and dodged across the tiles. Everyone in attendance watched on with amazement. Tearial tried the lunge again, but this time it was her ruse. As Brant sidestepped the spear, she spun the other end up and under. Brant saw the attack coming but only had time to lift his leg to keep the blade from striking his crotch. Her spear struck his leg, but he was attacking just as he blocked. Stepping towards her he spun by her, the back blade of his oswith spinning around to strike her in the side of her lower back. She grunted in pain and stumbled forward.

  Brant’s leg stung, but he showed no sign of the pain. Tearial was holding her back, her pain obvious. Brant waited for her to continue, his expression deadpan. But his eyes were still smoldering, reflecting the killer behind them. The score was now two to one half.

  Tearial slowly stood up straight and went to the weapons rack. She replaced the spear with a long thin sword, the end slightly curved. It looked very similar in shape to the blade that she wore when they had met.

  “This should get very exciting,” King Elwyn said, his voice a whisper, the intensity of the fight gripping him as it had the others.

  “What do you mean?” Jarak asked.

  “The spear she used was not her favorite weapon.”

  “Let me guess, she favors the sword,” Jarak said jokingly.

  King Elwyn just looked at him and smiled.

  Meanwhile, Brant had also walked over to the rack, returning the oswith. After hefting several swords, he brought one back to the middle of the room with him. It was shaped similarly to Tearial's, long and thin with a curved tip. But it was a bit longer, with a two handed pommel, which was something he was accustomed to.

  “You know what is interesting,” Jarak whispered to King Elywn.

  “What’s that?”

  “Brant also favors the sword.”

  King Elwyn looked at Jarak, his smile quickly fading.

  They faced each other and Tearial again went on the offensive, as she lunged forward, their swords coming together with a clash. Again they moved across the tiles, their swords expertly searching for an opening. Brant held his blade with two hands as Tearial came at his side. He snapped his sword forward, the strength of it pushing her blade away and followed it up with a slash of his own. Again her eyes registered surprise at his power, ducking below the attack, just narrowly avoiding it. Spinning away she got in a lucky tap on his leg, the tip of her sword barely touching him.

  “Two to one,” King Elwyn whispered.

  Again they came together. Using the Kilting Way, Brant went in to end the fight. Using the incredible strength of his wrists, he spun his sword down and around her attack, knocking her sword away with enough power to throw her off balance. Lunging in he attempted to elbow her stomach. Somehow she got her leg up to block the blow, but his attack knocked her backwards. Maintaining his momentum, he brought his sword back around as she frantically brought hers back into position. Again, popping his wrists forward, he used the tip of his sword to knock her blade away. Her body and sword were completely out of position and off balance, and she was not able to avoid his next moves. He brought his blade down across her chest and spun by her, his sword st
ill moving as he cut across her back as she nearly fell. Both times he held back on his swing, but the blunted edge scraped her skin, again leaving a red welt. Tearial barely caught herself from falling, as pain lanced through her chest and back.

  She finally stood up straight, took a deep breath, and faced Brant. Shallow red cuts lined her chest and back. Everyone watching was stunned to silence. Except for King Elwyn, who stood and clapped. Tearial lowered her sword and stepped close to Brant. Her eyes reflected surprise and respect, and perhaps a hint of desire. “I have never faced one such as you,” she whispered, stepping even closer to him.

  Brant's anger, still just below the surface, quickly dissipated, diffusing his adrenaline in the process. “You are quite exceptional yourself.” He was not lying. She was perhaps one of the best warriors, next to Kulvar Rand, that he had faced.

  She stepped even closer, placing her hand on his sweaty chest. “I should like to continue this bout tonight,” she whispered softly, “in your quarters.”

  Brant didn’t know what to say and his discomfort made her smile. He looked at everyone who was now standing and clapping. King Elwyn walked towards him and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Very impressive, Brant!” Then he leaned closer, whispering in his ear. “Be careful, she is even more impressive in bed.” He squeezed his shoulder and smiled broadly, patting him on the back.

  The only one who did not get up to congratulate Brant was Ardra. She was leaning over in her chair, her hands on either side of her head. Orin, who had stood to join the others, glanced back and saw her. Dropping next to her he placed his hand on the back of her head. “Is it happening again?” His voice was filled with concern.

  “Yes,” she mumbled, groaning. She looked up at him, her tear streaked face contorted with pain. “I don’t want to die like this.”

  He held her tight. “I would take it all from you if I could.”

  Within a few moments the flashing pain slowly went away, leaving Ardra panting. She lifted her head and looked at Orin, just as the others were returning to their seats. Kivalla was close and saw her expression.

  “Did it happen again?” he asked.

  She nodded her head. “It is gone now. It comes so quickly. And the pain… it’s nearly unbearable. Then it disappears.”

  “Has it been occurring more frequently?”

  Ardra looked at Orin, her expression grave. “Yes.”

  No one said anything as everyone took their seats to resume eating and drinking. There was nothing anyone could do, and thus nothing to say.

  ***

  Lyra sat with the rest of her companions around a warm crackling fire. They had tracked the king to the Red City easily enough, the seeker stone pulling them there without question. They didn’t dare stay within the city walls, or even the town beyond it, as word of five Saricons would potentially find its way to King Jarak. That was something Lyra could not let happen. They had one more chance to pull off their mission, and this time they had to succeed. They had no other choice, and the element of surprise would be paramount. If they returned to Cythera without news of Jarak’s death, she had no doubt that the Tongra would dispose of them.

  They were camping in a small grove of trees on the east side of the river just beyond the Red Bridge. It was cold and the snow was a few inches thick. But they had built the fire up and the heat from the flames, paired with their winter clothes, did an adequate job in keeping them warm. And they were not new to traveling in adverse conditions; each one of them, through their life’s experiences, had become tough as stone. They had brought with them several large canvas tents, the peaks tall enough to stand under, with openings allowing them to build fires inside to keep them warm at night. Now that most of their crew was dead, they only needed two of the tents to sleep the eight members left. Now, however, they were huddled outside around the hot fire, discussing the next steps of their plan.

  It was late in the evening, and Lyra, Lonas, and Kedrick had scouted the city all day and well into the night, focusing most of their attention on the king’s estate. They knew if Jarak and his companions were in the city, that was where they would be. After analyzing the map that Lonas had found in town after the attack at the ferry, Lyra figured there was no other place they would go besides Elwyn. After asking around some, she had learned that the king of Elwyn was known to have an army of mercenaries for hire. So that was it, she thought. He was forming an army. She had to hand it to the young king, he was tenacious. With that knowledge, as well as the location of the seeking stone, there was no doubt they were in Elwyn.

  “I saw the Saricon with the Gyths in town,” Kedrick said, confirming what they already knew. “They seemed to be browsing the shops before they headed back up to the king’s estate.” The Merger took a drink from his cup, sipping on the hot mulled wine they had bought in town. “Looks like you were right. They did come here.”

  “Did you find anything at the estate?” Lonas asked Lyra. She was the one with the skill to breach the castle walls at night, and that was exactly what she had done.

  “I did. I saw Jarak Dormath on a balcony on the second floor with the female warrior. There is a room on either side with similar balconies. I waited for nearly an hour before I saw the Aura Mage walk out onto the balcony to the left of Jarak’s. I could not see if anyone was in the room on the right, nor could I tell if anyone was with the mage. But I did get inside to inspect the floor of the castle that houses the king’s guests and found something that might help. There is an anteroom, probably housing at least a few guards, that blocks the entrance to the guest’s quarters. There is a bar lock on the inside. I’m sure it was designed so they could bar the door in case of an attack. I accessed that level from a balcony at the end of the hall. The room was unoccupied and I was able to enter the hall easily enough. We should have no problem doing this again and when we move on Jarak’s room, we can bar that door from the inside and keep any guards from coming to their rescue.” Lyra didn’t bother telling them that she had used a fly spell to access the balcony. They had spent enough time with mages to know they could do many things that others could not. Lyra paused and looked at the oldest of the Soothers. Her name was Jor’see. “If we can get you both in the hallway outside the rooms, can you sooth them all into a deep sleep so they will not awaken if they hear something?” Soothers can manipulate emotions and feelings, and in some cases, with those powerful enough, they can force physical desires upon another. In this case, Lyra was hoping they could make Jarak feel so tired that he would not awaken.

  Jor’see looked up from the fire. “Depends on the distance,” she replied in Newain. “From the outside door, we should be able to sooth the king’s room, and the mages, but there are only two of us and we would not have the strength to reach the other rooms around him.”

  No one said anything as they thought about the Soother’s words. After a few moments, Kedrick spoke. “How do you plan to get them inside anyway? Besides, everyone will need an escape route.”

  Lyra didn’t want to tell them that she could care less if they escaped. She just wanted the king dead…that was her goal. She knew that she could always get away herself by using a fly spell. “I watched the grounds for most of the night. There were two guards at the gate, which was locked, and they were not relieved until past midnight. I saw no guards patrolling the grounds but I’m sure there are some inside, especially in the anteroom I spoke of and no doubt guarding the king and queen. The estate did not look heavily guarded. My thoughts were to fly to the balcony and drop a rope. Then have Kedrick, Lonas, and the two Soothers climb the rope and join me in the empty room. From there we can access the hallway.”

  “But won’t Jarak’s door be locked?” Lonas asked.

  “I imagine it will be from the inside. But I’m hoping the balcony door will remain unlocked. I will fly to the balcony and enter from that door while they sooth the occupants to sleep. I will kill them both and leave. Then you four can climb back down the rope and escape into the night.”
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  “Why do you want us with the Soothers?” Lonas asked.

  “In case it comes to a fight in the hall, for whatever reason. I need the Soothers protected. If Jarak wakes up while I’m in the room, I will be in trouble.”

  “Will you be able to keep them asleep if a fight breaks out?” Lonas asked Jor’see.

  She nodded. “Yes, if I can project all of my power into that room they will not wake.”

  “How will we gain access to the king’s estate?” Kedrick asked. “Should we take out the gate guards or use a rope to climb the wall?”

  Songa, one of the personal guards to Kahn Taruk, spoke up. “Let’s kill the gate guards,” he suggested. “We can then man the gate and if a fight erupts, we,” he said, indicating the three personal guards to the Tongra, “can come to your aid.”

  “It is risky,” Lyra commented. “If you are seen and the alarm is raised, we will be in trouble. We will not be able to escape. The success of this mission depends on killing the king with as few other casualties as possible. If it comes to an all-out fight, I’m afraid we will not be leaving this city alive.”

  “I found a secluded location on the western side of the wall,” Lonas added. “It was very dark and there was a small grove of cherry trees growing tightly together. I suggest we scale the wall there, and have the three Saricons guard the rope to guarantee our return. Then we can escape into the city together with none the wiser.”

  Lyra was nodding her head. “I think that is a sound plan.”

  “When do we do this?” Jor’see asked.

  “Tomorrow night.”