by E A Hooper
“That’s very fair,” Thod said.
“A little too fair,” Tungosk muttered.
“We need time to survey Varsith and the surrounding territory,” Thod said. “We can meet our forces at Castle Stoneborn and then wait for the East to send its people. We can work together if the North tries anything.”
“Well, good luck,” Valx said, moving toward the stairs.
“You’re not coming with us?” Thod asked.
“I’m done with this war,” Valx told him. “I only wanted to help Lilan talk things over with you.”
“But we need more greatborn,” Tungosk shouted. “Eldsworth might allow greatborn to use their power and then attack us.”
“Not my problem,” Valx said.
“My father really hoped you’d reappear and show at the summit,” Lilan said. “You’re his closest friend’s only heir. He’d never do anything to harm you, meaning you’d be extra protection for the Western forces.”
“You can tell your father that I hate him, and I blame him as much as Wyvern for my mother’s death,” Valx shouted.
Lilan stepped back and replied with a sad look.
“My king,” Nevin said, interrupting the conversation. “It looks like they’re bringing the new graduates of the Medical Guild for you to congratulate.”
“Oh, my gods, I forgot they were doing that today,” the king said. “Good thing, too. We might need them for the summit. Little Miss Reaper, are we allowed to bring physicians? Or would they be added to our soldier count?”
“Father says we’ll count weapons,” she told him. “Besides soldiers and surveyors, you can have up to one hundred additional people. Like cooks, doctors, and servants.”
“Wait, you’re taking your medical guild with you?” Valx asked the king.
“If a battle breaks out, we’ll need all of them,” the king replied. “This is what they’ve signed up for after all.”
The four medical trainees walked up the steps. Mil followed last with a happy, innocent look on her face. She came to a stop when she saw Valx. Mil stared at him and then his hair. “Valx?”
Chapter 6
Pyre and Darvon sat on the ground between rounds of combat. They both panted for breath and wiped sweat from their brows. Pyre rubbed at his leg where the guard had bruised him with the door. During the fights, he moved around so much that the pain numbed itself, but between each fight, he felt it hurting worse.
“You’re a little slow today,” Darvon told him.
“You see my leg?” Pyre asked. “Gods damn guard slammed a door on it.”
“You should’ve been more alert,” Darvon replied. “One of them tried the same thing with me, but I caught the gate.”
“I was training earlier too. No one told me I’d be fighting today.”
“Why are you training when you should be conserving your strength? You realize how risky that is at a place like this?”
“I need to get better. I can’t let any more of those kids die.”
“You’re a better fighter than almost all the men here.”
“But I’m not a better fighter than you, Darvon. That’s why I had to train. So, it’s kind of your own fault if we lose today.”
Darvon scoffed. “Don’t blame me, kid. Blame that Ten Ky of yours. All that prancing around and trying to wear down your opponent is no good if your opponent is as big and mean as I am. And with your hurt leg, you can’t even prance around. You were damn near useless against that last group.”
“I try not to kill anyone if I don’t have to,” Pyre replied.
Darvon shook his head. “That’s why I prefer Veri Ky. It’s a lot more aggressive than Ten Ky. The faster I maim my opponent, the better chance of victory.”
Pyre recalled his spars against his imaginary nemesis, the faceless warrior. He remembered the hard elbow and knee strikes that almost always led to him to admit defeat against the powerful foe. “I have been working on something in my cell,” Pyre said. “A fighting style more suited for the arena.”
“Well, you’d better use it, boy. They’re getting those cannibals ready for the next fight. Eldsworth won’t spare them since he can’t keep them properly fed. You might as well go all out.”
Pyre nodded, but then he noticed Eldsworth returning to his seat. “Everyone ready?” the lord called. “Release the cannibals!”
Pyre and Darvon jumped to their feet and raised their fists. They watched the gate open, and seven emaciated men and one woman shambled out. They all had dark circles under their eyes and struggled to stay on their feet as they circled around the walls of the arena with their eyes on Pyre and Darvon.
“Skinny looking things,” Darvon said. “Guess I was wrong. This should be an easy fight.”
“I don’t know,” Pyre said, eying the woman. Despite her emaciated condition, he could see hard muscles in her arms and legs. “Look at their muscles. They might be starved, but these people were fearsome warriors. Don’t let your guard down.”
“You either,” Darvon replied. “And quit that Ten Ky stance. Use whatever it was you were working on in your cell.”
Pyre tried to imagine the stance of the faceless warrior and imitated it. His body felt stiff and still, and his muscles tightened in preparation of the enemies trying to surround them. Hard strikes. Deadly strikes. Just like the faceless warrior. I got to go for killing blows.
Pyre heard quick footsteps behind him and turned around as one cannibal lunged for him. He struck with his arm just like his imaginary opponent would do, and his arm caught the man in the neck. Pyre followed with a hard strike to the temple, and the cannibal dropped to the dirt.
The other warriors of the Iiti Clan charged at once. Darvon hit one in the face with his massive fist, but three others piled onto him. Pyre sidestepped one of them and broke the man’s rib with an elbow strike. The thief turned to Darvon and knocked one cannibal off him with a strike to the neck.
Darvon grabbed the two people still holding onto him and slammed their heads together. He let one fall back, but he jammed his fingers into the eyes of the other. The man screamed and scratched at Darvon. The nearby woman jumped at the tall man and clamped her teeth into the back of his arm. Her jaw clenched tight, and the Barbarian screamed and released the bloody-eyed man. Darvon swung his arm around to hit the woman, but she pulled away and ducked under his attack.
The woman backed away with fast steps, and several of the cannibals retreated with her.
“Zundr take you all!” Darvon screamed. He raised his boot over the bloody-eyed man on the ground. The Barbarian stomped on the man’s head several times until he was left a twitching heap.
Pyre pursued the man with the broken rib before he could retreat. He hit the man once more in the rib and then again, breaking another rib. The man fell to the ground and screamed in pain, but then his friends lurched toward Pyre.
The woman charged first in a Ky stance that Pyre didn’t recognize. He wanted to take a Ten Ky stance to get ready to avoid her attacks, but he winced in pain when he put too much weight on his wounded leg.
With the woman charging toward him, Pyre didn’t have time to decide on what to do next. He waited until she moved in to attack and then threw himself at her with a vicious strike. She hit him in the side, but he put the entire weight of his body behind the swing of his arm. His elbow caught her chest, and his forearm caught her face. His attack knocked her out of her stance and threw her backward into one of her friends.
Pyre could’ve sworn the attack had knocked the woman unconscious, but she jumped to her feet. She wiped blood off her mouth and nose, flashing a crooked-tooth grin. “This one has a fearsome spirit,” she told her friends. “His meat ought to taste good.”
Pyre glanced over and saw Darvon fighting off three of the cannibals. The thief jumped off his good leg and hit one of them in the back of the neck with his elbow. Pyre heard a snap from the man’s neck, and the Northerner crumpled to the ground.
He heard a rush of footsteps and turn
ed to see the woman and her friends running toward them. The woman leaped into the air with a jumping kick that knocked Pyre to the dirt. She jumped on top of Pyre and hit him in the stomach with a flurry of punches. Pyre struck at her face, but she bobbed her head, so he only ever grazed her. Finally, he punched her in the throat as hard as he could, and she fell off him.
Another cannibal jumped at Pyre, gnashing their teeth, but he rolled out of the way. He climbed to his feet as the man scrambled at him and then planted a kick to the man’s mouth. The man fell and spat out a tooth. He struggled to stand but looked too dizzy. Pyre kicked him again in the side of the head, and he toppled to the dirt.
The woman jumped in the air again, but this time she swung at his face. Pyre moved back his head, and her fist hit him in the chest. He then swung his head forward and smashed her nose.
The woman fell back, but this time, she didn’t jump back to her feet. She hit the ground with her arms and legs sprawled and blood gushing from her face. She gasped for breath and snarled like an animal, but she didn’t seem to have the strength to move.
Pyre looked at Darvon, and it seemed like the other cannibals had run out of strength. Most of them laid on the ground, injured or dead, but a couple huffed and shambled out of the Barbarian’s reach.
“Fight me, you cowards,” Darvon bellowed, chasing them around the arena.
“Come here,” the woman muttered.
“Me?” Pyre questioned.
“Yeah, you. The good-looking one. Come closer.”
“What, you going to jump up for a sneak attack?”
“Nah, just come here.”
Pyre stared at her a second. She looks too tired to fight, he told himself. He walked closer until he could see her wild-eyed face.
“Can you do me a favor?” she asked.
“What kind of favor?”
“Take a bite out of me.”
“Hell no! What kind of sick question is that?”
“They’re going to kill me since I lost. I need you to eat a piece of my flesh so that my spirit can be absorbed into you.”
“No,” Pyre said, grimacing in disgust. “Why in the name of Eyl’oera would you think I’d agree to that?”
“I would’ve done the same for you.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted you too.”
“This is my people’s tradition. Please. Normally, my family or enemy would eat a piece of me to carry my spirit, but my family will never retrieve my corpse. Please, take a bite out of me. I beg you.”
Pyre gagged at the thought.
“Hold on,” Eldsworth called, rising from his seat. He approached the ledge above the arena and looked down at them. “What’s she saying?”
“She wants me to eat a piece of her to carry her warrior spirit,” Pyre said.
Eldsworth turned to the crowd. “Well, that’s an interesting suggestion.” The crowd replied with a mixed reaction of cheers and disgusted looks. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t make anyone eat anyone. However, that’s a good lead in to our grand finale. I had a little something special planned. Guards, can one of you retrieve Tachios.”
A guard ran out of Pyre’s sight. He looked for Darvon and found that the man had beat the remaining cannibals half to death. The Barbarian went to the center of the arena and sat in the dirt to rest.
“What else do you have planned?” Darvon asked Eldsworth. “We already beat grimspiders, other Westerners, those gods damn longclaws, and now the cannibals. That should be it, right?”
The lord looked at him and laughed. “You’ll see. Oh, someone get him his spear. He’ll need it. And Pyre, you can use your power again.”
A guard tossed Darvon his spear, and Pyre gathered heat into his hands. I still have power leftover after dealing with those grimspiders and longclaws—oh gods, what could be worse than the longclaws that he’d make it a grand finale?
“Just to be safe, we should give Pyre a sword,” Eldsworth added. “And get rid of those cannibals.”
Twenty soldiers came from the gate and dragged away the cannibals. The ones still alive snarled and struggled, and Pyre saw a soldier jam a spear into the woman when she struggled in the hallway beyond the gate. She gaped at him through the bars and then collapsed.
One soldier tossed Pyre a sword, and Darvon gave him a worried look as he picked it up. Okay, he’s giving me my powers and a sword. What the hell is happening? He looked at the second gate, the one they released animals from. From what he knew, there was a system of gates they could open and close to lead creatures to the arena. He thought he saw movement of some kind in the dark passage but couldn’t guess what it was.
“What is that?” Darvon questioned. He neared the gate with the spear tight in his hands. His eyes squinted at the dark, and then he screamed and dove away from the gate. “What the hell are those things? Those damn monsters? Oh, my gods.” The Barbarian’s muscles trembled with fear as he retreated toward Pyre.
Eldsworth laughed, and the crowd grew quiet with curiosity.
“What did you see?” Pyre asked.
“Monsters,” Darvon muttered. “Like something from a nightmare.” He gaped at Eldsworth. “Those are real?”
“Indeed, they are,” Eldsworth said.
“Oh,” Pyre muttered. “Oh, gods. Are you trying to say—those aren’t strangemen are they?”
“That’s what they looked like,” Darvon said, trembling.
The crowd erupted with excited conversations, and Eldsworth watched his guests with a smile. “The best part,” he told them, “is we’re giving them all knives.”
“You sick bastard,” Pyre shouted. “How’d you even catch these things?”
“We’ve been coming across more of their habitats as we strip Farwood,” Eldsworth replied. “They’ve remained hidden from the clans for centuries, but they’re running out of hiding places. One day soon, their kind will be gone from this world. But for now, it’s nice not being the ugliest creature in Ter’al.” A few people in the crowd laughed at his comment, and he smiled at them and raised his wine glass in appreciation.
“So, here’s the plan,” Darvon told Pyre. “I’ll guard your back, and you roast those monsters.”
“How about you keep them back with your spear, and I’ll pick them off one by one with my fire?” Pyre replied.
“No, I think you should stay in front. It makes more sense.”
“No, no, no. You’re Darvon the Barbarian. I’d hate to get in your way.”
“You’re Wild Pyre, one of the Twin Thieves, and the Demon of Graypond. It’d be an honor to watch your back.”
“How about we fight side by side?” Pyre asked. “That’s fair, right?”
“Fine, fine,” Darvon grumbled. “But you’d better hit them with all the fire you can the moment they open that gate.”
“There’ll be none of that,” Eldsworth said. “If Pyre burns them before they’re properly within the battleground, I’ll have one child killed for every burned corpse outside the arena.”
Pyre glared at Darvon. “I was planning to do that, you imbecile, but I didn’t want to tell Eldsworth. You know he likes to make up rules as he goes along.”
“That’s true,” Eldsworth said, grinning. “But I do it for the sake of entertainment.” He nodded at the crowd, and they cheered and shouted in a drunken stupor.
“What’s going on?” Tachios asked, approaching the stands. “Is your grand finale ready?”
“Just in time,” Eldsworth said. “Oh, and you brought my lovely wife.”
Bels stepped forward where Pyre could see her. She looked even thinner and paler than usual and carried a hollow expression on her face. With slow, weak steps, she joined Tachios on the stands. She looked down at Pyre with sad eyes.
She’s suffering as much as I am, Pyre thought, staring at his sister. Does Tachios not care if she’s in that condition? Maybe he can’t tell since he’s blind.
“So, what is he fighting for his final bout?” Tachios asked the lord.
�
�Just watch,” Eldsworth told him. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Release them!”
Pyre channeled his heat through his hands and into the sword. By the time the pulleys raised the gate, his blade glowed red-hot. His amber eyes watched the darkness as he waited for the strangemen to enter the arena. Beside him, Darvon’s hands tightened around his spear.
They waited several seconds, but nothing stepped out of the tunnel. “My men should be trying to poke them out with spears right about now,” Eldsworth commented. “Give it a few seconds.”
Sweat dripped down Pyre’s forehead as he waited. He built as much power as he could behind his blade and almost felt ready to burst with fire. Darvon even had to take a couple of steps away because of the heat rolling off the blade.
A scream came from the dark passage, and everyone heard the ringing of metal. Everyone in the stands gaped, and then a soldier came from the stairwell beside the stands that led to one branch of the dungeon.
“What the hell is happening?” Eldsworth asked the man.
“Just a little trouble,” the soldier said. “One of the strangemen grabbed Yarl through the bars and grabbed his keys. We had to lock the next gate over to keep them from escaping, but a few of our men got trapped with them.”
“They didn’t hurt the strangemen, did they?” Eldsworth asked. “I promised these good people a show.”
“I think one got poked in the shoulder with a spear,” he answered. “The one that grabbed Yarl. However, they killed all the men that got trapped with them. Real gruesome too. We’re getting a bunch of men together to force them through the passage. Don’t worry, sir.”
“Gods be damned,” Eldsworth said, shaking his head. “Tell them to use the acid if they have to. That always gets the best results with those things.
The soldier nodded and disappeared out of Pyre’s sight.
“You have strangemen?” Tachios questioned. “Seems a little dangerous to keep them here. My father had a few and tried to condition them to listen, but they attacked the guards every chance they got. Even if it risked their own life. Despite their incredible ability to problem solve and plot attempted escapes, they don’t seem to reason or communicate.”