by A L Hardy
Jurod and Ilays had considered using this moment to attack, when every soldier in the square had their eyes on the floor instead of on their King; but they knew in that case the King would retreat back into the Temple, forever beyond their reach.
Tennlka’s voice carried easily across the silent clearing, “Rise!”
Everyone rose and the square erupted with action. Shadows rose off the ground and slit the throats of every archer and soldier around the perimeter of the square. Xardan rose, his own shadow rising to cut his bonds, and slammed both fists into his black clad, would be executioner.
“HE’S AWAKE!” someone shouted.
“THE DRUGS AREN’T WORKING!”
Fire and Drashyre engulfed each of the archers across the top of the Temple walls as Ilays flashed swords from their scabbards and Jurod summoned a blade of Drashyre.
Xardan grappled the soldier holding his blade, and the Tyrn tackled them both off the stage and onto the ground below. Shadows rose to meet the plummeting trio, smashing into the Tyrn and the Faelhart soldier. Slowly pushing himself up, Xardan took his blade from where it had fallen and pulled the mithril weapon from its sheath. The shadows around him flowed at his command into full armor, and he leapt onto the stage again, leaving behind the soldier and the Tyrn.
Kin and Trelir soldiers alike rushed forward to meet Jurod and Ilays, but Jurod’s blade was a challenge of its own. A Kin reached him first, but fell before he had even truly raised his weapon. Jurod spun his blade to keep a Trelir at bay, and threw a ball of Drashyre into another. Parrying two fast attacks from the first Trelir, Jurod cast spells of panic and anger to bind her arms and legs together before dropping down to finish her off.
At the back of the stage, Jurod saw the two Knights and a pair of soldiers escorting Tennlka and the Trelir back toward the Temple gate. Not wanting to lose their prey, Jurod released his blade and gave all his Knighthood power to maintaining a wall of Drashyre in the gate. Deterred from his escape route, Tennlka turned icily to Jurod and the pair locked eyes.
Jurod bent and retrieved a fallen Trelain scimitar and swung the weapon up to block the downward strike of one of Tennlka’s Knights. Icy chill filled the air around them and frost began to crawl across the stage.
Thinking quickly, Jurod cast the spell he used to extinguish his Drashyre around his oppressor’s head. For several long minutes the Knight continued to bear down relentlessly before he eventually collapsed. Releasing the spell and allowing the Knight to breathe, Jurod replaced it with Binding spells around his ankles and wrists.
The other Knight was locked in combat with Ilays, each moving quickly and swinging their weapons with expert skill without landing a single blow. Jurod looked around for Tennlka and was surprised to find him still on the stage, fighting blow for blow with Xardan.
Jurod didn’t hesitate before pulling one of his knives and throwing it directly at the king’s throat. It seemed to jump in altitude just before hitting the King and flew overhead.
Realizing throwing more knives would do just as little to help the situation, he ran forward, diminishing his wall of Drashyre to a single, flickering flame. Jurod jumped into the fray with Tennlka, swinging his scimitar low through his opponent’s defenses. Tennlka was completely occupied with Xardan and couldn’t swing his blade around fast enough to parry or risk losing his footing by shifting away and he didn’t try to either. Jurod was confused why Tennlka would let him through so easily when his arm jolted as if he’d struck an invisible barrier and the blade was wrenched from his hands.
Xardan spun away from a lunge and the Knight with Ilays spun to swing at him too. Tennlka turned to Jurod with icy regard and lunged forward. Jurod summoned a blade of Drashyre and parried the strike easily. Calm confidence was all Jurod could read on Tennlka’s face as they shifted from one stance to the next.
Behind him, Jurod heard the Tyrn roar and briefly caught the flash of Ilays’s purple leathers moving to engage him. Tennlka would have been an overwhelming opponent, but Jurod maintained his defense with the help of his Drashyre. Every time Jurod would have landed a blow on the King, the invisible barrier would turn his stroke, and every time the King moved in for a blow, a ball of Drashyre pushed him back.
*
Xardan had always hated sparring with Sebus. The Knight of the Open Eye’s power allowed him to see into the future, and landing a blow against him was practically impossible. The only way to successfully defeat the Knight of the Open Eyes was to allow your instinct to take over. If you didn’t think about what you were going to do, he couldn’t see it being done. Xardan had to keep a clear mind for this reason; any attempt at planning or feigning would be seen and countered before it could be pursued to fruition.
As quickly as the first time he had sparred with Sebus, Xardan wrapped the Knight’s shadow around his ankle and held him in place.
Sebus chuckled slightly as he made a single comment, “Never before have I fallen for the same trick twice.”
Completing what he had started Xardan bound and tied Sebus completely in shadows, leaving the Knight alive only out of respect for his old comrade.
Xardan swung his blade in a salute and turned to Tennlka. Jurod was fighting with expert form against the “King” and Xardan couldn’t resist being proud of the half-Lythrain.
Across the stage, Duryg managed to land the flat of one blade against Ilays’s head and lunged forward with the pommel of the other. The Tyrn’s boot lifted sharply and Ilays was sent soaring onto her back with a small groan.
Jurod foolishly dropped his guard at the sound of Ilays’s groan and Tennlka lunged forward, planting his hand square onto Jurod’s chest.
Tennlka chanted urgently in a strange tongue as sparks of electricity jumped from the “King’s” fingers.
Jurod reeled back in pain as his muscles convulsed uncontrollably.
Duryg ran toward Xardan and the shadow Knight was forced to use every skill and trick he had ever concocted over years of fighting to hold both the Tyrn and the “King” at bay. Ilays rose weakly across the square and stumbled over to Jurod.
*
Jurod lifted his head slightly as he sensed Ilays’s magic. He could see her casting the spell and knew she intended to leave Xardan behind. Their plan hadn’t worked. Not only had the Tyrn been unaccounted for but also the King wasn’t supposed to have any wards or magic of his own. It was well known that he loathed magic and wouldn’t allow another to cast a spell on him.
Cursing the ward that had ultimately been the foiling element, Jurod summoned one last ball of Drashyre and threw it forward; not at Tennlka, but at the ward surrounding him.
Ilays’s spell took some time to cast properly and the pair both watched as the air around Tennlka erupted in flame. Jurod blinked, and a hard impact of air sent Xardan and the Tyrn sprawling toward them. Both thudded onto the ground only inches from Jurod and Ilays.
As Ilays finished casting her spell, Xardan and the Tyrn grappled for supremacy over each other. Jurod tried to shift himself away, but he was too slow. Xardan rolled onto Jurod’s foot just as Ilays released her spell, and all four were carried away in her spell meant to carry two.
Jurod had never felt so much pain, and yet so much exhilarating ecstasy. The world spun and shifted around them as they were carried away. When the world reformed around them, they were sitting in waist high grass that spread as far as the eye could see.
Ilays was unconscious, but Xardan and the Tyrn had stopped fighting.
“Where are we?” Jurod dared to ask as he lifted Ilays in his arms.
The Tyrn looked around and threw his gladii into the grass to either side. Pulling his axe from its harness on his back, he grumbled in a low frightening voice, “The last place I’d ever want to return to.”
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