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The Light of Heaven tok-3

Page 19

by David A. McIntee


  Gabriella lunged forward, while Erak circled round to stop Batsen from getting away. Batsen simply took it in his stride. The Order of the Swords of Dawn might fight on the Lord's behalf, but they didn't share His omniscience or omnipotence. Or His infallibility.

  Batsen dodged back from Gabriella's whirling blades, pretending not to notice Erak outflanking him. When the wiry knight was close enough and about to attack, Batsen hit him in the gut with a back kick, without looking round.

  Erak staggered back and Gabriella redoubled her attack. Batsen ducked under the blades. If he could stay in close enough, Gabriella wouldn't be able to swing well enough, and he could use his finger-length blades to better effect.

  Then Gabriella unexpectedly slashed low, the flat of one blade sweeping Batsen off his feet. Batsen rolled, narrowly getting out from under the edge of Gabriella's foot as it slashed towards his neck.

  Erak caught his balance and sprang back to engage Batsen again. Batsen sidestepped to keep the armoured Knight between himself and Gabriella. Batsen was faster with his kicks and punches and had his knives, but Erak was clothed in iron mail under his robes. All of Batsen's blows rebounded from Erak's armour as the knight blocked him. The dagger's blade scraped uselessly across the iron links of Erak's mail.

  Batsen stunned Erak with a high-rising kick that made the Knight pull his head back and sent him stumbling back into Gabriella. Both Knights tumbled in a heap.

  Batsen's breath burned his lungs and now he felt he had the measure of the two Knights and, while he refused to feel comfortable enough to underestimate them, he was satisfied that they did not outclass him. All that mattered was that he fulfilled his contract. Live or die, he would be doing his best to earn that purse.

  Gabriella and Erak were back on their feet and advancing on him from either side. Gabriella let her expression clear. Let the enemy wonder whether she was angry or afraid, excited or overconfident. Let him not know who his enemy was. She was Gabriella DeZantez: Enlightened One of the Final Faith and defender of the people in the name of the Lord of All.

  Batsen drew a straight-bladed smallsword from a sheath at his back and rolled the weapon around his wrist, testing the weight and balance. With his right hand, he smoothed down the front of his rumpled tunic and beckoned his opponents towards him.

  They rushed him together, Erak's blade held low. Batsen bounded forward a couple of steps and leapt into the air between them. One foot hit the flat of Erak's blade as if it was a ladder rung and prevented him from swinging the weapon. The other foot caught Gabriella's shoulder, making her stagger aside.

  Then Batsen was on the balls of his feet, blocking and parrying Gabriella's attacks. The sword-hilt jarred painfully against the heel of his hand with each block. Erak was on the other side of him, lunging forward with his weapon, but the assassin merely danced aside, forcing Erak to pull back for fear of hitting Gabriella.

  Suddenly, Erak was upon him once again and Batsen found himself making side kicks to the Knight's hands, while fencing against the two blades that Gabriella was trying to drum on his head with. The trio danced around the nave like this for a moment, each seeking an advantage. Then something struck Batsen's ankle, and a sweep from Erak Brand's blade knocked the smallsword from his hand.

  Before either Knight could move on him, Batsen stabbed backwards for Gabriella with an elbow and snapped a kick at Erak's head. Both Knights staggered back, allowing Batsen to slip a toe under his fallen smallsword and flick it up into his hand.

  He fenced with Gabriella for a moment, then lunged for her throat. She batted the attack aside and pushed forward, driving the assassin back towards the altar. Now she had him.

  The assassin didn't return to the attack. Instead, a startling, almost blinding, light blazed from his eyes, and he thrust out his left hand. Gabriella didn't know what that meant, but she knew it was meant to be bad for her, so she dove and rolled, just in time to avoid a bolt of lightning that shattered the air and ignited a pew.

  Gabriella didn't quite understand what had just happened, but she rose and rushed at the assassin. He was blocking the door now, light beaming out from his eyes. He grinned, his left hand rising, and Gabriella understood that she had badly misjudged things. One man was not just one man. Not when he was a Shadowmage.

  Batsen made a quick gesture and muttered a word that kept his mind in focus. Immediately, the torches flickered and the light in the church dimmed. Erak froze, and waved his hand around in front of his face as if he suddenly couldn't see, but Gabriella was more surprised to see Batsen walk right towards her, angling from the left, as if he thought she couldn't see him.

  A swift kick to the chest, and a lunge that nearly skewered him, changed his mind. He looked utterly shocked and suddenly the light in the church was restored. Erak snarled and ran at Batsen. Batsen leapt onto a pew and thrust his hands upwards.

  Without warning, the floor exploded upwards around Erak's feet, grabbing at his legs and holding him fast.

  Seeing his target immobilised didn't make enough impression on Batsen to raise a smile, but it was an opportunity he was too professional to let go. He raised both hands slightly, pulling tendrils of fire out of the air and gathering them into a ball. Then, with a flick of the wrist, the ball of blinding flame shot across the chamber and exploded against Erak's head.

  The fire engulfed him instantly and his screams almost drowned out the crackling of burning flesh. Sparks of infernal red and gold burned across his armour and out to his wide-flung hands.

  What had once been Erak Brand dropped to his knees and stopped screaming as there was no more air in his lungs. He thrashed and twitched, melted skin and fats dripping from his hands, before finally lying still.

  Gabriella couldn't believe her eyes. She felt as though all she could hear were Erak's dying screams.

  She rushed out into the plaza, knowing that her assailant would follow.

  Close on her heels Batsen sent another flaming bolt after her. The blast knocked Gabriella off her feet and she rolled, managing to keep a hold of her sword.

  Batsen called upon the air to form another fireball and hurled it with perfect accuracy.

  A fist-sized globe of red flame hit Gabriella between the shoulder-blades. She arched her back under the impact and Batsen, for the first time in years, felt something. He felt utter, uncomprehending, astonishment as she turned round.

  Her hair floated around her head as if lifted by a breeze and worms of light wriggled in the folds of her armour.

  She didn't die screaming, with smoke curling from her lungs as they burned.

  She didn't even fall.

  She yelled, not in pain, but in pure primal anger and ran at Batsen, swords raised high. Batsen, astounded, called upon the shadows to hide him and darted aside. Unbelievably, she followed right after him.

  Now Batsen could feel something. It was fear, thick and cloying, and filling his head to the point where he couldn't think.

  Terrified, he gathered the air around him, thickening it so that it would cup him and carry him up on to the roof of the nearest building. From there, he fled. Gabriella pounded after him along the street below, screaming with rage and loss. She shouldered citizens aside as she leapt for an awning against a shop front and clambered up onto a low roof. There she stopped. The man had disappeared. She could see several streets in either direction and he was nowhere to be seen.

  Gabriella jumped back down to street level, caught her breath and all the desire to keep standing fled from her body. She slumped to her knees, too exhausted to keep in the sobs that her pounding heart and head were letting out.

  As people came to see what was happening, she curled into a ball and cried.

  Travis Crowe had woken to the sound of iron on iron and screams. He hadn't even realised that he had fallen asleep, though he had been bone tired when he sat down to take a few minutes rest in the stable.

  He jumped to his feet and looked for his sword but it wasn't in the stable, so he grabbed a long,
loose coat from a hook and went to search for it. He found it in the vestry, where had left it, and ran out into the church. There he saw smashed pews and shattered flagstones. On the floor was a charred corpse and he recognised by the mail and fragments of blue cloth — but mostly by the sword lying near it — that it was Erak Brand.

  "Sorry mate," he muttered, "but rather you than me."

  He heard shouts from outside and ran to the door. He was just in time to see Gabriella fall, struck by a bolt of magical fire. There was a man there too, dressed in black. Gabriella, to his amazement, climbed to her feet and went at the man in black, who flew to the rooftops, where he fled.

  "Batsen," he snarled.

  He followed Gabriella as she ran, only to turn a corner and find her sobbing on the ground. People stood around, looking concerned but at a loss as to what to do.

  Cursing the Faith for not teaching their flock any practical skills, Crowe rounded on the nearest man.

  "You! Help me get her inside the church."

  The man grabbed Gabriella's legs and Crowe lifted her by the shoulders. The two men carried Gabriella through to the Enlightened One's apartment beyond the vestry and lay her on the bed. Crowe and the shopkeeper then returned to the ruined interior of the church.

  "What happened here?" the man whispered. "More goblins?"

  "No, this guy was human. More or less." Crowe looked at the charred corpse lying in the remnants of a blue robe. "Looks like you people need another Enlightened One."

  When Gabriella awoke she wailed with dismay. If she had died, at least she would still be with Erak, in the clouds of Kerberos. Instead she was in bed, alone. Summoned by the sound she had made, the door opened, and for a heartbeat she thought it was Erak and that she had simply had a nightmare.

  It was Travis Crowe, more sombre than usual. He had let his white hair out of its ponytail and was re-tying it as he entered.

  "Who dressed my wounds?" Gabriella looked around. "And where is she."

  "You're looking at 'her,' pet." Crowe said, with uncharacteristic solemnity. He'd never seen a Knight of the Swords blush before.

  She scrambled to her feet with a snarl. "How dare you!"

  She reached for a blade that wasn't there.

  Crowe spread his hands. "Don't worry, Dez. You haven't got anything I haven't seen in a dozen whorehouses, all right? Besides, open wounds and flowing blood aren't my idea of a turn-on. Maybe there are blokes around who get off on that, but that ain't me." Gabriella stopped looking around, and composed her expression, but her cheeks remained flushed. "You've got nothing to be embarrassed about. Mind you, considering how much blood you lost, it's a good sign that there's enough left to reach your cheeks."

  Gabriella patted at the dressings with her fingertips, wanting to scratch at the strange sensations under them, but not daring.

  "Painful?" Crowe asked.

  "Not exactly, just strange."

  He nodded blandly. "That'll be the maggots getting busy."

  Her gorge rose and her stomach clenched. "The what?"

  "Do I look like a Healer? I used some maggots to eat away at anything that might otherwise go sour. It's an old mercenary trick, but it works." He waved a hand. "Got a Healer in as well. He liked the maggots; says he'll take them up himself."

  Gabriella gritted her teeth until she thought they might crack. It didn't stop the pain that forced tears from her. She squeezed her eyes tight shut and saw only Erak.

  She wanted to hit someone, or break something. "Let me out of here," she rasped, pulling on a surplice, but not so quickly that Crowe didn't notice the red stains beginning to show through her bandages.

  "You shouldn't move, God-girl. You were cut up pretty good and that won't heal overnight. You need to rest."

  "No. Especially not here."

  "It's a church. You're a Sister in a religious order. Can you think of a better place?"

  "This was Erak's place," she said. "Maybe it's one I could have shared with him in time, but without him…"

  Crowe understood. "Without him, it feels strange, not like any other church? It feels weird and somehow less than a normal church, yeah?"

  "That assassin…"

  "Batsen."

  "You know him?"

  Crowe shrugged. "By reputation, more than anything else. Have you heard of the Guild of Shadowmages? The old guild in Turnitia, I mean?"

  "Of course. The Swords helped the Empire of Vos to smash it."

  "Yeah. You know why?"

  Gabriella thought for a moment. "It was before my time, but we were taught that they, or at least the Lord Defender, thought the Shadowmages were assassins and terrorists."

  Crowe nodded. "That's what most people think of the Shadowmages. But it ain't true. I've known a couple of them and most of them aren't like that at all."

  "And even if that was the case, which I doubt, your point is…?"

  He dug a small clay pipe from the folds of his tattered coat and lit it. "Dai Batsen is the reason that most people think the way they do about Shadowmages." He grimaced. "Every nightmare story anyone ever heard about a rogue Shadowmages — and, believe me, I've heard a few — he's the one who the story is really about. He's a bloody one-man terror campaign. Pay him and he'll do anything to anybody, no questions asked, no morals or scruples involved. And yeah, I know that sounds pretty ironic coming from me, but you just think about it. Compared to him, I'm on the straight and narrow."

  "Compared to you?"

  Crowe shrugged and sat back against the wall. He closed his eyes and folded his arms, gripping the pipe between his teeth. "Look, love, I'll kill for money, rob, steal, take down anyone I think is in my way. Whatever I have to do to make my way, I'll do it if I have to. Because I have to. Batsen isn't like that. He'd do those things for practice, if he wasn't so bloody expensive. Thinks of himself as a bloody artist or something. Proud of being unique, he is."

  "This Batsen sounds pretty serious."

  "The most serious," Crowe confirmed. "So serious, in fact, that I don't want to be anywhere near you when he comes for you next. And he will."

  "Unless I get him first."

  "Funny you should say that; it's exactly what I was thinking. He and I have some unfinished business, you know."

  "I wish I could say I was surprised." She got up, wincing. "If you know where he'll be, you can take me to him. I want to know who hired him and I want to kill the bastard. For Erak."

  "Me too," Crowe muttered. "Just not for Erak." He cleared his throat. "I doubt Batsen will be talkative."

  "He'd better be. If he was hired by who I think hired him, we're going to have a chat before I cut his bollocks off and feed them to him."

  A rogue Shadowmage was all Gabriella needed. Somehow she knew she ought to be more afraid of such a person and she found herself wondering why she wasn't. She had never been sure what to think of magic. Oh, there were Healers among the Enlightened Ones and a few with other talents had found a home in the hierarchy of the Final Faith, so magic itself couldn't be totally unholy. Having said that, if the talent was a gift from the Lord of All, to be used as a tool in His name, then using it for any other purpose was a sin.

  She supposed it was much the same as the moral turpitude that led to whoring; wasting something that was meant for a higher purpose in bringing Man closer to being one with God. Grimacing, she reached for her armour.

  "Leave him to me, Dez. You're wounded." Crowe said.

  "I have a duty, sinner," she reminded him. "And you need to redeem yourself."

  "You'd be surprised," Crowe said with a glower.

  "Let's go, or by all that's holy, I'll burn you for supplying… whatever you supplied to the Huntress."

  "All right," he relented at last. "But let's not get you any more mangled than you are, at least while so many of your friends are around. We'll do this my way: I'll draw him out and make him safe, then you get your turn."

  "Oh, I'll be having my turn all right," she vowed and Crowe shivered. "And Erak's turn to
o."

  CHAPTER 13

  It was just a tumbledown old church with grass for a floor and plants and flowers sprouting from the walls.

  It was shaded with every colour daylight could bring and full of the richest textures an artist could dream of. Then Crowe looked up, where the roof-beams hung down like broken teeth, and felt the church's beauty fade into intimidation. He nodded to himself. This was just like Batsen. Hired to kill a member of the Faith, he would hide out in one of their old buildings.

  There was not much left of the town that this church, a league east of Solnos, had served. There was a dried-up watercourse at the west end and Crowe suspected that the township had dried up with it. Most of the surrounding buildings had collapsed and rotted, but the church, built of stone, had survived the decades. He idly wondered whether Batsen had come across the place by chance, or somehow already knew it was here.

  Either way, he had made it an ideal camp. The crypt even still had an intact roof, so Batsen needed no tent.

  Crowe had been watching for a couple of hours before Batsen finally deigned to show himself, appearing up out of the crypt like a bloodsucker in some old Gargas tale. He had lit the braziers and begun to assemble breakfast.

  Crowe slipped out from behind a pillar and whipped his arm around Batsen's neck. Batsen immediately tried to throw him over his shoulder, but Crowe had expected that and kicked Batsen's knees out from under him. Erak dropped to maintain the choke-hold and soon the assassin was unconscious.

  Crowe swiftly searched him for concealed weapons and found a pair of long bodkins and a couple of knives, before tying Batsen's hands.

  "Hello Dai. Thought I'd find you here." Batsen started, his eyes darting to either side in anticipation. He outstretched his hands, his brow knitting in concentration. "Your taste in accommodations hasn't changed much, has it?"

 

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