Bladvaneer

  Seeing that it was time for him to go back to work, the champion did just that. He dropped the hammer and took his sword again. Although he was having fun, he also knew it was difficult to keep this interesting with someone who wouldn’t fight back. Not that it would help him even if he tried. He attacked the messenger once more.

  “I might have an idea how to make this interesting,” Tarquin suggested.

  Klavin felt his skin crawl. He couldn’t imagine what Tarquin had in mind, but knew it had to be something very bad for the poor messenger.

  “I was hoping you might,” the mayor responded, as the messenger was raised yet again.

  “Might I suggest allowing me to use Tresegama’s Eternal Agony?”

  Simko gasped, causing Tarquin to smile.

  “Ah. I see you’ve heard of it. Quite appropriate for the circumstances, don’t you think?”

  “Well I’ve never heard of it,” the mayor said. “I certainly hope it won’t just give him a cold,” he added, shooting the priest a dirty look.

  “Oh, it’ll be a lot worse than that,” Simko muttered.

  Tarquin smirked. “You think so? Then why don’t you enlighten the mayor as to what it does, exactly.”

  “Will someone please just tell me? Or am I going to have to get upset?” the mayor asked.

  “You want to know what it does? It sends a person, body and soul, to a hellish dimension where he becomes the eternal plaything of a vile demon named Tresegama,” Simko said.

  “And what happens to him there?” the mayor asked, his curiosity piqued.

  “No one knows. It’s a one way trip. No one who’s ever had the spell cast on him has come back to tell us how it went,” Simko answered. He didn’t even know there were wizards who still knew this spell, never mind one actually willing to cast it. From what he had heard, even the most vicious spellcasters shied away from it, embarrassingly admitting that this one might just be going a little too far.

  The mayor clapped his hands together. “I like it. I think everyone here would enjoy seeing it.”

  “No!” Simko yelled.

  “You can’t really want him to do this,” Maurya said.

  “Why not? Although I will warn you that this had better not be a letdown.”

  “Very well, give me a few moments to prepare the spell,” Tarquin said, and closed his eyes in concentration.

  Klavin grabbed the mayor, who stared at him in return. The guards started to move in, but the mayor waved them off.

  “Please, don’t do this. It’s beyond inhuman!”

  The mayor laughed. “Are you supposed to be some kind of hero? If you are, then what are you still doing up here?”

  Klavin stared into the mayor’s eyes, and then jumped over the rail and onto the battlefield. Maurya and Simko tried to stand, but the guards pushed them back into their seats. The crowd erupted in cheers, which broke Tarquin’s concentration. Talb stood at the rail to watch his new friend.

  “Klavin!” Maurya yelled.

  “Oh boy,” Simko added.

  The champion was about to kill the messenger for the umpteenth time when Klavin ran in and shoved the intended victim to the ground. He quickly picked up the discarded sword and prepared to defend both of them. Confused, the champion looked up at the mayor, who stood to address the crowd.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it seems we have a new challenger! Champion, feel free to have your way with him.” The mayor locked eyes with Klavin and added, “If it’s any consolation, you were probably going to wind up in there sooner or later anyway.”

  The champion turned to Klavin, smirking. He moved in for yet another kill, swinging his sword wildly at his target. Klavin held up his own weapon in defense, and upon impact the blade separated from the hilt and flew several yards away. Klavin stared at what was left of his sword. At this point half the crowd was cheering, and half was laughing.

  “Most people are too frightened too even try and defend themselves. For those who actually have some instinct for survival, well, we’re not about to give them even the slightest chance to win out there. I’m sure you understand,” the mayor explained.

  Klavin dropped the hilt and backed away, the champion closely following him, and still wearing his smirk.

  “Get out of there!” Maurya suggested.

  Klavin looked around, and saw that all the gates were closed. “Where to?” he asked.

  “Quit running, coward!” the champion commanded. The crowd exploded.

  “Are you seriously calling me a coward?”

  Taking advantage of the distraction, the champion slashed at Klavin and struck, reopening the wound that Simko had partially healed. Klavin was stunned, and the champion plunged the sword deep into his abdomen. He collapsed, and the champion raised his hands in victory. The messenger could only watch on in horror.

  “No!” Maurya screamed.

  Simko dropped his forehead into his hands. This one was way beyond his ability to heal.

  Tarquin grinned. The mayor stood.

  “Let’s see a replay of that one,” he joked, and Larn began chanting.

  Klavin felt that he had been … somewhere. But suddenly he found himself staring up at the sky. He looked quickly sat up and looked himself up and down. The deadly wound the champion had inflicted was healed. Interestingly, the one he had suffered earlier at the hands of Jord was gone as well. He slowly got to his feet.

  Tarquin placed his hand on the mayor’s shoulder and laughed.

  “I must say that this is the most fun I’ve had in a very long time,” he said.

  “Me too,” the mayor added.

  “No one can cast that spell twice. Most can’t even cast it once. Might I suggest that I be allowed to use it on the fool who believes himself to be a hero?”

  “Sounds good to me. But let’s see him in action a little longer. That spell of yours is just so … permanent. We’ve got to get our fun while we can.”

  “Very well. I’m very patient,” Tarquin said, giving a sideways glance to Simko. “Punishing those who’ve dared to challenge me is always worth the wait.”

  Klavin decided he had absolutely nothing left to lose. Nothing, that is, except for his life, but on that subject his fate seemed to be sealed no matter what he did. He decided to do the unexpected, and charged at the champion. His response was to lower his weapon and use it as a spear, allowing Klavin to run right into it. Once the corpse fell to the ground, Larn once again began chanting. Maurya covered her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Simko wished there was something he could do, some spell he could use, but knew that no matter what he tried Tarquin was powerful enough to block it. As soon as Klavin opened his eyes, the champion immediately plunged his sword into his heart, killing him instantly. He pulled it out and stood, his foot on his victim’s chest and sword raised triumphantly in the air as the crowd screamed for more. He walked away to bask in the applause as Klavin once again was brought back from merciful death, and slowly got to his feet. Tarquin and the mayor both snickered at the sight of their latest victim crawling on the ground, then standing to receive the next death blow.

  “Please stop this. I’m begging you,” Maurya pleaded.

  “Why? I’m having the time of my life. As far as I’m concerned, this never has to end,” the mayor responded.

  Maurya wondered if the mayor would wind up putting her or Simko in the arena next. She quickly realized there was no doubt that he would. He would probably even send in Talb, who would have the least chance of any of them to survive. The wizard, seemingly reading her thoughts, gave her a sly grin.

  Out of nowhere, Tarquin heard a low growl, steadily getting louder. He wondered if anyone else heard it. Glancing around, it seemed that everyone else in the mayor’s private seating area was experiencing the same thing, and trying to discover the source. The only one who seemed capable of such a noise was the Karthuma, and no sound seemed to be emanating from him. Yet the sound was definitely there.

  Talb turned and looked at Tarquin, hat
red in his eyes. Then he jumped over the rail. The wizard snickered.

  “Oh, this keeps getting better and better,” he commented.

  And time seemed to freeze as Talb was in midair. And his body seemed to harden. And lengthen. And stretch. The etching that had been on his chest plate now marked a hilt.

  “It … it can’t be,” Tarquin gasped, standing and leaning over the rail to get a better look.

  Everyone in the mayor’s seating area did the same. In fact, everyone in the arena found themselves standing and watching in awe of this transformation.

  And then Talb continued his descent. Klavin raised his open hand and the grip of the gently glowing sword found its home. The champion didn’t quite understand what was happening, but sensed that his fun had come to an end. He looked to the mayor, who seemed stymied.

  After a moment’s hesitation, he ordered, “Finish him!”

  The champion rushed at his intended victim, swinging wildly. Klavin parried, using his new sword, and the warrior’s weapon shattered. He stood there, unable to look away from the hilt which remained in his hand. Finally he turned to the mayor once more.

  “Give me that!” the mayor roared at one of his guards, grabbing his sword and throwing it to the champion.

  Not quite as confidently as he would have liked, he picked it up from where it landed and held it in front of him. He wanted to run out of there, but didn’t think he could get far enough away that the mayor couldn’t track him down, so charged once more. The result was the same.

  This time it was the mayor’s turn to look to someone for advice, in this case Tarquin.

  “Allow me,” Tarquin said, taking another sword from one of the guards. He ran his finger down the blade and the weapon pulsed lightly. “Try this one out,” he suggested, tossing it into the ring.

  Realizing that he now had a magic weapon, he felt like he was more on equal footing with his opponent. He still had his doubts, though. For a third time he attacked his opponent, and for the third time he had nothing but a hilt to show for it. This time, however, Klavin followed up with two light strokes across the champion’s torso, causing the armor to splinter and fall to the ground. The man suddenly found himself standing before hundreds of people wearing nothing but a loincloth. He tried to ignore the laughter, but even after covering his ears it was still too loud.

  “Scat,” Klavin suggested.

  The champion ran across the battlefield to the closed gate through which he had first entered as the audience roared. He pounded on it until someone finally felt enough sympathy to open it and let him out. He kept running, no longer particularly caring if the mayor hunted him down or not.

  Tarquin eyes Simko suspiciously. “What exactly was that quest your little friend tried to get me to join?”

  Simko coughed nervously.

  Klavin stepped forward, holding Bladvaneer out in front of him. “I think my friends and I will be leaving now,” he said quietly.

  Tarquin laughed. “I’ll admit I’m impressed. I’ve apparently been sitting with one of the most sought-after weapons in history. I even kicked it a few times,” he glanced at his guards when they started snickering, and they stopped. “But having a magic weapon doesn’t make you a hero. It just makes you lucky. The sad thing is that I would have liked to have added that blade to my collection. Unfortunately, you’ll most likely be taking it with you.”

  “Yes, I most certainly will be taking it when I leave.”

  “Oh no, I think you misunderstand. You will not be leaving here, except to visit Tresegama. Say hello to him for me, please,” he said, and held up his hands. They were glowing with a black light.

  “No …” Simko whispered.

  “Even you can’t do something like this,” Maurya said.

  Tarquin smirked. “I can’t? My dear, you clearly haven’t been paying enough attention.”

  Klavin started backing away, knowing that the action wouldn’t do any good. He couldn’t believe he finally seemed to be on the right track to actually succeed at this quest, and it was already over. He wondered if he’d ever forget how it felt to get so close and yet be so far away, although based on Simko’s description of where he was about to go, he was pretty sure he’d have other things to worry about soon enough. Why did the last thing he ever saw have to be Tarquin’s smirk?

  “And now I believe it’s time to say goodbye. Hopefully now you’ll see why it was such a mistake to ever cross me,” the wizard said, the smirk never leaving his mouth. He pointed his right index finger and a beam of absolute darkness fired from it.

  Klavin wished he could have taken credit for what happened next, but he would have to admit he had nothing to do with it. He diverted his eyes, as though this would somehow shield him from the effects of the spell, and felt his sword’s hilt shifting in his hand. Curiosity winning out over terror, he looked to see his weapon move itself into position to block the spell. The beam hit the blade dead-on. Bladvaneer was surrounded by a black glow, which slowly seemed to be absorbed by the metal. In a moment, it was as though the spell had never been cast. Klavin took some satisfaction in seeing that Tarquin’s smirk was gone and his mouth had dropped open.

  Klavin stepped forward once more, his sword held out in front of him. “Now, as I was saying, I believe my friends and I will be leaving now.”

  Tarquin cleared his throat. “Ah yes, the lad has a point. Mayor, I’d like to thank you very much for the hospitality, but we really must be going as well.”

  “What?!” the mayor asked, not used to finding himself in such a tight spot and not wanting to lose the only one who could potentially help him. “You can’t leave!”

  “Oh no, you’ve already been more than generous as a host. If we stay any longer we’ll certainly feel like we’re imposing.”

  “But …” the mayor stammered, his eyes darting from Tarquin to the approaching Klavin.

  “Say thank you,” Tarquin instructed his guards.

  “Thanks,” one said.

  “Good show,” the other added.

  And all at once, the mayor found himself alone. He finally remembered he had guards of his own.

  “Don’t take another step,” he instructed Klavin, who stopped just short of the rail. “I have no idea what’s so special about that sword, and I honestly don’t care. But I still have your friends, and you can’t do a thing about it from down there. So drop your weapon or your friends’ deaths will be on your hands.” He grinned knowing that in the end, as usual, he had won.

  Suddenly Maurya was behind him with a dagger held to his throat.

  “Um …” the mayor started.

  The guards began moving forward, but thought better of it.

  “Didn’t anyone take away the prisoners’ weapons before they were brought to me?”

  “Of course!” one of the guards answered.

  “All right, then, which one of you is missing your dagger?”

  The guards nervously checked their weapons. One coughed.

  “Yes?” the mayor asked.

  “I, er, seem to have misplaced one of my daggers,” the coughing guard admitted.

  The mayor rolled his eyes.

  “Can we leave now?” Maurya asked.

  The mayor forced a laugh. “Naturally! I told you that you could feel free to leave whenever you wanted to. Let no one ever say I’m a bad host.”

  “Then help Klavin back up here,” she instructed, seeing that her friend had reached the rail. “And don’t try anything funny.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” the mayor insisted, offering a hand to Klavin.

  “Oops,” Klavin said, pulling the mayor over the rail.

  “What are you doing?” the mayor asked.

  “Leaving,” Klavin answered, as Simko pulled him up. “Do any of you have a problem with that?” he asked the guards, waving his sword in front of them. They shook their heads in response.

  “And what about me?” the mayor asked.

  “Catch,” Maurya unexpectedly said, a
nd tossed the dagger onto the battlefield. The messenger sauntered over and picked it up, a big smile on his face. His expression said that he knew this was a weapon he could handle.

  “Ah,” the mayor said. “And is someone going to throw me a weapon as well?”

  The guards stared at Bladvaneer.

  “Apparently not,” Klavin answered, motioning the guards to the exit. They all left, hearing the crowd cheering in the background. Once outside, they sent the guards on their way.

  “So Talb was the sword you were looking for all along?” Simko asked, admiring the weapon.

  “Looks like he found you, just like Gareth said,” Maurya added. “So now I assume we continue to Rha.”

  “No.”

  “No?” she asked.

  “No. First we go back to Farbo Town, and run Vosko out of there once and for all,” Klavin said.

  “But isn’t it more important that we stop that priest from bringing back Krot? Now that you’ve got that sword, I’m willing to bet we can do it,” Simko said.

  “We can’t just leave an entire town at the mercy of a bunch of thugs. Not after what we’ve just experienced here.”

  Maurya and Simko looked at each other and nodded. Klavin and Simko started heading out of town. Maurya didn’t.

  “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Klavin asked.

  “You two go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

  “Why?” Simko asked.

  “I want to pick up a few supplies while we’re in town.”

  “But nothing will be open at this hour,” Simko said.

  “So? Considering the way this town has treated us, I think we’re entitled to help ourselves to a few needed things.”

  “She has a point,” Klavin said. “We’ll come with you.”

  “No offense, but I’m used to doing things like this on my own. I don’t want to tell you that you’d get in my way, but …”

  Klavin smiled. “Okay, I get it. We’d get in your way. Well, if you insist. Catch up to us as soon as you can.”

  “No problem,” Maurya replied, smiling back. She watched her two friends leave.