The guests went into a frenzied panic. They rushed for the exit door. The grand chamber became a sea of chaos as the terrified horde busted through the guards.
On the stage, Darkken lay on the floor, unmoving. Tobias, with triumph in his glowing eyes, advanced on the fallen man. He lorded over top of Darkken, mighty with power. “I told you there would be a funeral today.” He lifted his sword to deliver the fatal blow. “Goodbye, Darkken!”
“Nath!” Maefon said in a helpless voice. “Do something!”
Stone Smiter came down hard on the stone floor, making a sound like a clap of thunder. The chamber shook. People fell to the ground, screaming. The members of the Black Hand stumbled on the stairs. Tobias staggered backward.
Maefon shouted, “Brothers of the Wind, protect Darkken!”
Chaos. Mayhem. There were no other words that could aptly describe the grizzly scene that unfolded. The guests fought their way back to their feet and surged through the exit door. The elven Brothers of the Wind slipped concealed short swords from their sheaths and attacked the castle guards. The elves on the other side of the aisle sprang into action, blades in hand, attacking the Brothers of the Wind. They didn’t have special braids or feathers woven into their hair like the Brothers of the Wind. Nath knew instantly they were Caligin. Dark elves. The wreckers of his world. He slipped aside from a piercing blade aimed at his neck and cocked back his hammer. Maefon, dagger in hand, stabbed the dark elf in the heart.
“Are you going to stand there, or are you going to fight?” she said to Nath. Maefon darted away, locking arms with another dark-elf fighter.
“Fight!” Nath replied.
Three orc guards rushed down the aisle at him with halberds lowered.
Nath slid between the massive jabbing weapon heads. He punched an orc in the middle of the chest with the Gauntlet of Goam. The breastplate covering the orc’s upper body dented. The orc collapsed on the ground, clutching his rib cage and sucking for breath. Using the sledge in close quarters, Nath popped the second orc in the chin with the end of the handle. The orc’s head rocked back. He rammed the sledge’s head into the chest of the third orc. The beast of a man wailed and collapsed.
Nath spun the sledge full circle with a flick of his wrist. “You ugly things are too slow for me.” He turned toward the stage.
A mad rush of soldiers, men, orcs, and brigands plowed into him before he could turn loose a swing. Limbs flailing, Nath collapsed under the sheer weight of numbers. “Gads!”
CHAPTER 4
In all of his life, Hacksaw had seen many things, but he’d never seen elves fighting elves. Back and forth, the Brothers of the Wind battled what he could only assume were the Caligin Nath had talked about. The cat-quick fighters fought one another, blade against blade, with vicious intensity, while at the same time battling the swarms of guards all around him. Keen eyed, he still had trouble figuring out who was on whose side. With his sword, Green Tongue, in hand, he stabbed the first soldier that charged his way.
“Beware the green flicker!” Hacksaw said.
His elven form faded into the bearish form of a big man. Hacksaw battled his way through the fray of men, orcs, and elves, legs and steel driving toward the stage. It was the dwarf, Cullon, who caught his eye. They’d had a fight earlier that hadn’t yet finished. The dwarf stood on the steps, battling an elf rushing the platform. Using his axe like the blade of a windmill, the powerful dwarf cut the elf down. Hacksaw shoved through the ranks at Cullon. “Let’s finish our dance, backstabber!”
Cullon shoved the elf’s corpse down the steps and gripped his axe in two strong hands. “Gladly.”
Hacksaw charged at the dwarf. He sliced downward. The blade shone in a green flash. Axe and sword collided with a resounding clang. Back and forth, the towering man and burly dwarf fought, exchanging hard chops, thrusts, parries, and counterswings. Within moments, Hacksaw sucked in hard through his nose.
“You tire quickly, human.” Cullon chopped hard and quick at Hacksaw, his dark eyes set with murderous intent. “I’m going to enjoy killing you as much as I enjoy killing the elves. Yah!” The dwarf turned loose a mighty two-handed swing at Hacksaw’s leg.
Hacksaw parried. The jarring blow rang off Green Tongue, shaking his arms to the bone. Lords of thunder! His arms are like iron! Backpedaling, Hacksaw slid away from the heavy swings of the dwarf’s deadly axe. Hacksaw was no slouch. His arms were as hard as oak from decades of chopping wood, but the dwarf was as stout as petrified black oak. Finesse, Hacksaw. Finesse. Beat him with your mind, not your body. You’re not a young man anymore. He sucked in a quick breath. His lungs were burning.
“That’s a pretty sword,” Cullon said, gaining confidence and showing endless might behind his swings. “It will make a fine addition to my collection.”
“And your beard will make a fine addition to mine.” Hacksaw unleashed a series of quick thrusts. Cullon leaned back, flailing his battle axe at the flickering blade. Hacksaw changed tactics. He didn’t slam his sword against the heavier axe. He slipped it away from the swing and shifted his feet, leaving Cullon swinging at air. Lunging forward, the dwarf overextended and lost balance, exposing his side. Hacksaw slashed the dwarf hard across the ribs.
Cullon let out a roar of anger. Seething, he said in a roar, “You’ll pay for that!” Holding his hand over his bloody side, Cullon came at Hacksaw with renewed ferociousness. The wicked-looking, razor-sharp battle axe sliced at Hacksaw’s belly.
The old knight hopped back. He countered with a downward swing. Cullon didn’t parry but stepped under the swing, driving his shoulder like a battering ram into Hacksaw’s chest. The charge knocked Hacksaw from his feet. He hit the ground on his back. Cullon chopped down at him. He rolled left. The axe bit into the ground and stuck. Hacksaw backhanded the dwarf in the jaw. It was like hitting a statue.
Cullon puffed a laugh as he ripped his axe free from the floor. “Only a fool punches a dwarf in the face.”
Using his sword like a cane while he labored for breath, Hacksaw pushed himself back to his feet. He took a deep breath through his nose. Cutting trees had kept him strong over the years, but fighting for his life was another matter. This was life and death. His blood churned, but he was exhausted. Shoulders sagging, he squared up on Cullon. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Cullon set his hard eyes on him. “It’s already over, human. You’re just too dumb to know it.”
***
Maefon watched a member of the Brothers of the Wind fly through the air and crash into a wall. The elf had been propelled by an unseen force. Her eyes swept through the chaotic sea of battling bodies. Elves, men, and orcs whacked at one another with rigorous strikes. There was confusion as they struck out at one another, uncertain of who was on whose side. Nath had disappeared underneath a heap of bodies in the aisle. I need to help him. Hands aglow with mystic fire, she spread out her fingers. Pointing her hands at the orc soldiers rushing right at her, she turned loose her mystic fire. Flame-like energy erupted from her fingertips, covering the enemy soldiers in a burning wave of energy. The soldiers screamed as the fire danced over their bodies. Their weapons clattered to the floor. Frantically, they tried to pat the flames out.
The fires extinguished underneath a powerful gust of wind. The soldiers moaned, wide-eyed, giving thanks to whatever they prayed to.
Maefon glared at the source that had canceled out her spell. It was the woman, Virgo. The beautiful woman with short platinum-blond hair stood on the steps, her body shimmering with light. She tipped her chin at Maefon. “Little elf, you crossed the wrong sorceress today.” She winked. “Let’s play.” Shards of energy erupted from Virgo’s fingertips.
As she crossed her arms in front of her, Maefon’s mystic shield of green energy flared up in front of her body. The shards that Virgo fired skipped off the shield. Maefon sneered behind the translucent wall of protection. She didn’t like the woman. There was something about how the woman carried herself that ate Maefon up. Perhaps
it was knowing that Virgo had spent time with Nath and betrayed him that bothered her, even though that was what was supposed to happen. Whatever it was, she decided to let the anger feed her and turn it against the woman. “If that is your best, you are in for a very disappointing day.” Using her powers, Maefon propelled herself through the air, right at the wide-eyed Virgo, and slammed into her.
Virgo screeched as they crashed into the steps. “What sort of sorceress are you that attacks with the flesh? Pathetic!” They wrestled over the floor and steps. Their entwined bodies, glimmering like the light of dawn, floated from the ground toward the ceiling. They went at it above while the fray of steel raged below. They bumped and rolled across the ceiling, trying to claw one another’s eyes out. “I don’t know what your game is, elven witch, but I’m going to kill you!”
Maefon watched the woman’s eyes flicker like lightning. She tried to tear free of the woman’s grasp. A charge of energy swept through her entire body. “Guh!” Her back arched. She fell toward the ground, hit hard, and lay still.
CHAPTER 5
Crushed underneath a pile of soldiers stabbing and punching at him, Nath thrashed and twisted. Daggers jabbed into his body armor and skipped off. Someone had ahold of his hair, yanking hard and snapping his head back. “Get off me!” he yelled at the sweaty soldiers that struck at anything that moved, sometimes hitting one another.
“I got him!” a brigand with droopy eyes said. He tried to rip Nath’s hammer away. “And I’m taking this sledge once he’s dead. Stab him, will you, somebody?”
Nath head-butted the man in the nose. The brigand yelped. The rogue was another one of the Men of Whispers who he’d seen disguised as a soldier earlier. The mere sight of the man made him angry. The orcs were even worse. Kicking and twisting like a wild animal, Nath kept his limbs free from being seized. In the close quarters, the sledgehammer was no good to him. But on his free left hand, the Gauntlet of Goam blazed like fire. “I’ve had enough of this!” He punched an orc soldier in the belly. A whoosh of air exploded out of the orc’s mouth. It left its feet and sailed across the aisle.
The soldiers paused.
“Did you see that?” one of the men said.
Catching the soldiers with their mouths hanging wide open, Nath clobbered three at once with a haymaker swing. The men almost came out of their boots, flopping backward and colliding with the others. Back on his feet, Nath spun the hammer, creating a circle of light. “Who’s next?”
Someone tapped him on the shoulder. “I am.”
Nath spun around and found himself face-to-face with Worm. The young, disheveled rogue looked at him with the same dull eyes.
“You made a mistake coming after me, Worm!” Nath swung the hammer at him.
Worm vanished into thin air.
Nath shuffled around, expecting an oncoming rush of soldiers. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with Nina’s fist. The punch in the face rocked him backward and sent him flat on his butt. The sledgehammer slipped from his fingers. Blinking, he shook his head and rubbed his jaw. He reached for the hammer. Worm reappeared over the sledge, snatched it up, and with a cackle tossed it to Nina.
The towering woman glowered down at Nath. “You’re a dead man!” The hammer rose and fell.
***
Lying on his side, Darkken kicked out the moment Tobias approached. The sure-footed fencer hopped over Darkken’s feet and laughed.
“You missed, you pathetic fool,” Tobias said as he renewed his advance, sword and eyes glowing. He coiled back his arm for the final, lethal blow. “For the life of me, I’ll never understand what foolishness got into you, Darkken, but you crossed the wrong swordsman today.” He stabbed at Darkken. The blade sank inches into the man’s chest, passing right through the hidden chain links of armor hidden underneath his clothing. “Goodbye.”
Darkken smiled like a crocodile. With one hand, he grabbed Tobias’s blade, squeezed hard, then wrenched it free of the man’s grip. The glow in Tobias’s eyes went out. His face turned ashen as Darkken rose. “I have no more use for you, Tobias.”
“What are you talking about?” Tobias stood underneath Darkken’s heavy stare like a wounded child. He looked at the stab wound in Darkken’s chest. “You don’t bleed.”
“Oh, I can bleed, I just don’t want to.” Darkken snagged Tobias by his wrist, then locked the fingers of his free hand around the man’s strong neck. In a dark, all-knowing tone, Darkken said, “I want you to know that I have appreciated your service.”
Straining to yank his hand and neck free, Tobias sputtered out, “What do you mean?” Doubt mixed with fear built in his eyes. “Who are you?”
Darkken pulled the man up to his tiptoes. “Haven’t you figured it all out yet? Certainly, you are smarter than that. I’d expect much better from the leader of the Black Hand.” He squeezed the swordsman’s neck more tightly.
Tobias choked. His eyes bulged, and he chopped at Darkken’s arm with his hand. “You,” he spat out. “Cal-i-gin!”
“I don’t want you to say that too loudly,” Darkken replied as his coppery eyes quickly swept the room. “And no, I am not Caligin. But seeing how dead men can’t tell tales, I’ll share my little secret.” His now-glowing eyes met with Tobias’s eyes as they began to flutter. “I am the Lord of the Dark in the Day.”
Puffing out the words, Tobias said, “Why kill meee? I-I have served well.”
“You have served your purpose. I don’t need you anymore.” Darkken squeezed harder. The muscles in Tobias’s neck gave way. So did his spine. Crack.
Darkken let the dead man slip from his fingers and lowered him to the ground. He spied the cleric sitting in the chair, staring right at him. “You didn’t hear that, did you?”
“No, no, of course not. I’m awful of hearing these days,” the trembling cleric said. “Eh, is the wedding over?”
Strolling over to the feeble cleric, Darkken gently patted the man’s scrawny shoulder. “Yes, I believe it is. As for you, not hearing what I said to Tobias a moment ago, I fear I can’t take any chances. Besides, you are very old and don’t have much left to live for these days.” Darkken sent a charge of energy through his hand that raced through the cleric’s body, stopping the old man’s heart. The cleric sagged in the chair, dead. “Rest in peace. It’s better than pieces.”
Ignoring the ensuing battles all around him, he strolled toward the sword hanging over the burning fireplace. With admiration, he said, “Father, that’s quite the masterpiece, but it was intended for me, not my brother.” He reached for the sword and lifted it from the brackets. The handle warmed but did not burn. “Interesting.” He sliced the great blade through the air. “Magnificent!”
***
Hacksaw and Cullon battled back and forth, exchanging heavy blows. The old legionnaire had hundreds of fights underneath his belt, but that was decades ago. Now it took all he had to keep up with the dwarf’s relentless attack. He blocked and parried. His arms shook. His efforts to defend himself became wooden. Instinct saved him from getting skinned once and again. Sweat stung his eyes. His numb hands somehow held onto Green Tongue. The quivering green blade would be whacked down only to bounce up again.
“Time is short, old man,” Cullon said. “If you have any last words, I’d say them now, even though you don’t have the breath left in you.”
“You are right about that,” Hacksaw wheezed as he parried another thunderous blow. “Guh!” Green Tongue fell from his fingertips. In all of his years of battle, he’d never been so disarmed before. He’d never fought a seasoned dwarf, either. He stood there panting. His hand fell to the dagger inside his belt.
In a single quick step, Cullon put the head of his axe under the gasping man’s throat. “Don’t even touch it. Well fought, knight, but this bout is over. Kneel.”
Hacksaw had lost. He knew it. Kneeling was the honorable thing to do when one was about to be vanquished. He kneeled. “Have my body taken back to Huskan, that’s all I ask.”
“You
’ll have to leave that to the vultures when they dump your body in the gulch. I won’t be doing it.”
“You have no honor for a dwarf,” he replied.
“Yes, well, I’m a thief and a slaver at heart. What else would you expect?” Cullon lifted the axe over his shoulder. “So long.”
Hacksaw triggered a sharp blade that shot out of his gauntlet. He lunged into the dwarf, burying the blade in the burly dwarf’s heart. Cullon’s eyelids opened wide, fluttered, and closed. His axe fell from his fingertips and clattered on the floor behind him. Hacksaw shoved him to the ground. Blood dripped from the hidden blade in Hacksaw’s gauntlet. After he wiped the blade down, he pressed the trigger, and the blade retracted. It wasn’t an honorable way to fight, but in the end, Cullon had no honor and wasn’t worthy of a fair fight. Hacksaw crawled over to Green Tongue, picked it up, and headed back into the ongoing battle shouting, “Ride the Thunder! Ride!”
CHAPTER 6
Maefon hit the ground hard, banging her head and drawing stars in her eyes. Behind the blinking gems, Virgo, in her glorious white gown, came down, softly landing beside her. Mystic fire crackled on her fingertips. Maefon had been training with Darkken for years in dark sorcerous ways, but she’d yet to test her full powers. Seeing the gloating look in Virgo’s eyes stirred the fires in her belly. She started to her feet.
“You should stay down, little elf, if you know what is good for you. My magic will rip you apart,” Virgo said.
Maefon pulled her shoulders back, dark magic churning within. “And you are little more than an enchantress, far more skilled at keeping your skin from sagging than using it with any potency.”
“You elven witch!” Virgo cast her arms at Maefon. A torrent of energy burst from her hands that lit the room up like the dawn of a new day.
Deadly_The Odyssey of Nath Dragon Page 2