Mikhal was not a religious man, but he knew enough about the seven different gods the people of Vasalius followed. He knew that there was a small temple to Diathanos within Fhaalvak’s walls and that the priest that ran the temple was a tidy, methodical man – much akin to Mikhal’s line of thinking. But, upon meeting the older gentleman, the Captain found the priest to be quite condemnatory over anyone else’s views on religion. The priest was unwavering in this and, to be honest, Mikhal found it abrasive. The Captain always made it a point to leave the temple and its priest out of his daily routine, and he was confident that the holy man felt the same about him.
But the paladins would be the same way: hypercritical, demanding, and officious, which was all fine and good if they kept it to their temple! But, Mikhal knew it would spill over toward how he was protecting the town. They would challenge his viewpoint on military strategy, and that would serve no one’s interest and only make his job harder.
He could hear the jangle of the bells that lined the priest’s riding harness as the seven men rode around the workers who were preparing the defenses. They came to a halt before the gate lieutenant who was motioning his men to let them pass. The lead rider was some sort of Palidiamos officer by evidence of the gold-trimmed cape he wore and the different markings on his armor. He wore a tall helmet with a ‘T’ shaped visor, topped with a plume of white feathers billowing behind him. The gate lieutenant conversed with the paladin for a short time before the holy man cast his eyes upward at Mikhal for a moment.
Mikhal nearly flinched. There was no mercy in those cold eyes; no compassion. Only a resolve to see whatever business brought him here finished. The paladin then returned his eyes to the lieutenant, spoke a few words, and then spurred his magnificent horse through the gate with his six men following him. The Captain turned and watched them ride down the mud-churned road, scattering those walking along the street on their way toward the temple, marveling at how some people could become so callous when hiding behind a religion.
He leaned once more over the balustrade and motioned for the lieutenant to come closer. “Did you tell them of our incoming problem?”
“Yes, sir! I informed him of the approaching Zynnashans, but he didn’t seem to care. He only wanted to know the direction of our Diathanos temple.”
This did not bode well. If the paladins were not here to help with the defense of Fhaalvak, then why were they here at all? The Captain’s eyes widened as he recalled the warning given to him by the Shadow Magi.
They were here for the diamond.
The Captain spat irritably as he gave orders to the lieutenant not to let anyone else through unless on official business. Not only did he now have a Zynnashan attack to repel, he had magi and paladins within the town walls competing for the largest diamond in the known realms.
Mikhal was unsure which would destroy Fhaalvak first.
***
Baris Malagotta sat once more at his usual table, nursing another warm woodberry wine. The Golden Harvest Inn was busy this night as talk of the Zynnashans had reached the public. Rumors of Valdine’s destruction were circulating around the town and river shipments were either late or missing – all of which strengthened the talk of war with the mystical beasts. The mercenary had to give his benefactor a silent toast. He predicted this. Baris knew that the Zyns would be irate over the diamond’s theft, but he didn’t figure them to go as far as burning every village and town down the Tebis’non just to retrieve it.
“Can I get you another wine, master?”
It was the pretty barmaid. She was becoming bolder as the days went by and Baris hoped he had enough time to take advantage of that. Lifting the rim of his hat, he smiled at her and this time she did not move away. “Not at the moment, love,” he said lustfully. “Perhaps later in the night we can share a bottle of your finest Vhaalian wine?”
She smiled coyly, but then flicked her green-eyed gaze to the bearded man behind the counter. He was a large fellow and his eyes bore straight at them, watching like a mother bear watches her cubs. “I don’t think my uncle would approve, master.”
“Baris,” he corrected her. “And do you do everything your uncle commands?”
She looked down at the dusty stone floor, her fingers picking idly at her off-white apron. “No,” she giggled.
“Leave the man be,” warned the uncle.
The barmaid rolled her eyes and whispered quickly, “Ask me later.”
Baris’ smile broadened into a sinister grin as she sauntered away to other customers. He watched the sway of her hips, convinced that he would be able to sample the local flavor before he departed Fhaalvak. If not, there would be other women he could seduce, others he could buy with the gold he would have before tomorrow night. He now had two potential customers and all he needed was to get them to realize they would be bidding against one another.
Almost as if on cue, one of his prospective clients stepped through the rounded arch of the doorway. The glowing azure-white of the diamond dust that coated his plate mail shined within the shadows of the gloomy taproom, causing everyone within to pause in their conversations and watch as two more like him entered, their eyes halting on Baris.
“What can I get for you warriors of the light?”
The leader, a tall, muscular man with light golden hair flowing down his head and his upper lip looked sharply at the innkeeper, searching for any hint of insincerity. Seeing none, the paladin waved a hand in the air, “Nothing for now, good sir, perhaps when we can stay a bit longer.”
The lead paladin then refocused his attention toward Baris and his back table. The mercenary sat up straighter, his left hand touching his sword hilt for reassurance. He hated dealing with these faith eaters, but one sought the gold where it lay.
“You are Baris Malagotta?” the lead paladin asked with a pleasant bass.
Baris tipped his hat to the plate-armored buffoon. “I have been called that, yes,” he said.
The other two paladins stood on either side of their leader, effectively blocking any viewpoint beyond them. All Baris could see was a shiny wall of silver and divine white energy.
“You have something in your possession that is very valuable to us and we were made to understand that you are willing to sell it for a price.”
“Well,” Baris grinned, “that all depends on how much you are willing to spend.”
“Chancellor Tevic has given me full authority to pay any price you seek.”
“Hm…full backing of House Diathanos…very interesting.”
The leader gestured to one of his subordinates, who then reached into his thick cape and produced a bulging nylon sack. The paladin threw the sack on the table and Baris was happy to hear how heavy its contents sounded.
“Where is the object?” the leader asked a bit less pleasantly.
“In a very secure place,” Baris answered. “You didn’t think I would have the object here?”
“How are we to know you even have it?” questioned one of the younger paladins.
Baris leaned back with a smile. “I am quite sure the priest you brought with you senses its presence. In fact, I would wager you all feel it…you just can’t pinpoint it.” He could tell they could by the way they glared at him. How horrible it must be to want and need something so badly and know it was just out of reach.
The leader slammed his fist into the table, causing it to crack loudly. “You will bring us the diamond…now!”
All whispered conversation stopped. The three paladins turned to see who was paying attention to their business. Through the smoky firelight and beyond his three visitors, Baris noted that the faces of the inn’s patrons were still turned to their own companions; their eyes locked on the one before them or the table below them. But Baris also knew that every single person had an ear trained upon them now.
“Take back your gold,” Baris said quietly, his smile gone. “You will meet me near the river dock at the warehouses tomorrow at high sun. There we shall discuss the new terms of
sale and see if House Diathanos truly is as wealthy as they say.”
It took a moment for the head paladin to grasp what Baris was saying. His eyes flared open in surprise and then rage. “You dare to haggle with me?”
“There is another interested party,” Baris told him. “A group of Magi arrived before you, one of them belonging to the Diamond Order. I am sure he also senses the gem. It would not be fair to the Elementai if I did not allow them the chance to match and surpass your own offer.”
“You fool,” he said, spittle flying from under his golden moustache. “Do you not realize that this object can help us stop the approaching Zynnashans?”
“All the more reason to do as I say.”
The paladin’s hand touched the hilt of his sword, and for a tight moment, Baris thought he had pushed the warriors of the light too far. This paladin that led the squad did not like being ordered around by what he perceived was a common thief, but he was smart enough to realize he would not be able to find the diamond before the Zynnashans arrived. The man’s hand quivered near his weapon for a moment, but then just as suddenly veered away.
“Very well,” he breathed. “We shall meet you tomorrow at the warehouses at high sun. We will match the Magi’s offer, Malagotta. I suggest you do not barter any further than that, for the will of Diathanos is absolute.”
“Tomorrow, then,” Baris smiled once more, raising his goblet of tepid wine at them.
The three paladins turned and rattled out of the taproom, their eyes searching for who paid them any heed. The tone of the room turned to normal once more with a few pairs of eyes looking over the lone mercenary. Baris knew it was a dangerous game he was playing, but the payoff would be worth it.
***
Myst pushed the whetstone along the blade carefully, reverently, admiring how the steel reflected the firelight next to her. Uncle Teeg’s sword really did not require sharpening, but after tumbling to the stones below the rope bridge, Myst wanted to make sure all was well with the weapon. She leaned back against the trunk of a fallen tree, scanning the darkness every so often, her eyes darting back and forth along the tall grass of the flood plain she and Tair were crossing. They had stopped for the night in a small copse of trees that lined the western tributary that would take them to Fhaalvak. It was a shallow stream her father called Merchant’s Way.
Her father. She paused in her blade sharpening as she mentally closed another door to him. Had he acted upon her warning, had he enabled the militia sooner and called the field workers back, then perhaps her uncle would still be alive. The lion Zyn Beast might have killed Teeg, but her father was just as guilty for allowing it to happen. Banishing the thought of her father, Myst scraped the whetstone along the steel edge harder than she meant to, causing a metallic screech that caused a nearby owl to cry out in annoyance. She looked over to Tair to see if it had woken her, but her small figure still lay huddled next to the fire, wrapped tightly in her cloak.
Tair was exhausted; that much she knew. Myst had pushed her to the breaking point both physically and emotionally. The boat they carried lay behind Tair where she had dropped it just two hours prior. Her friend had literally fallen asleep where she stood. Tair was snoring by the time Myst returned with firewood. She went ahead and built the fire high, knowing it was going to be a cold night and knowing that Tair would not speak to her for a while, not after verbally exploding earlier in the day. Myst could not blame her for her anger, for Tair could not understand what she was going through. Once she had the diamond, Myst would make it all up to her. She didn’t know how, but for some reason, her instincts were telling her that nabbing the diamond was the way to go. And once she had it, she would ram it down that Zyn Beast’s throat.
She put the whetstone back in her pack and let out a slow yawn. It was well past midnight, and she was not immune to the physical abuse she had put herself and Tair through this day. She was worried about sleeping, though, unsure of what could be lurking along the river banks this late into the night. Perhaps Tair would take watch a few hours before dawn to –
The sound of the owl’s wings flapping away in a rush came with the sound of the stick snapping beyond the light into the trees. Myst froze, all thoughts of sleep fleeing her mind as her adrenaline began pumping. Very slowly, she adjusted her feet so that she could leap at a moment’s notice. The night air was very still, the only sound coming from the crackling fire. Another twig snapped in the same area, but closer.
Something was stalking them.
“Tair, get up,” she said calmly, her voice low.
Tair, having heard the tone of Myst’s voice, rolled out of her cloak, her eyes glimmering sleepily at her friend. “Trouble?”
Myst nodded and both women were up in a flash standing back to back, turning in a tight circle to observe every inch around them. Tair had both daggers ready while Myst brandished her uncle’s sword. “Come out!” Myst ordered. “We know you are there!”
From the shadows, a familiar form stepped into the firelight. The wolf Zyn Beast held a spear and was dressed in the common soldier’s garb of leather armor. But what garnered Myst’s attention was the bandage on its left calf. The creature’s eyes came alight with a fierce yellow glow as its muzzle stretched into a wicked grin.
“Fortune truly favors me,” it said with a click of its teeth. “I shall not waste a second chance to taste your life’s blood.”
24
Myst gripped her uncle’s sword with both hands, fighting the fear that threatened to overtake her. She briefly wondered if this feeling of terror was some sort of natural aura that came from the Zynnashan, but as the beast stood there, clacking its long talons in eager anticipation to rip her flesh, she knew it was anything but natural. The only thing that kept Myst from running into the swampy darkness was feeling the solid shoulder of Tair next to her. She was fighting the fear, as well. Her hands were shaking as she brandished both of her bone-handled daggers.
“Don’t let the spear distract you,” Myst whispered, her breath coming out in puffs of vapor in the chill air. “Its claws are as sharp as steel.”
“Sharp enough to shred the skin from your bones,” the beast snarled. “Sharp enough to…”
The sound of a whirling blade slicing through the air interrupted the Zyn Beast’s comment. With uncanny reflexes, the Zynnashan used his left hand to deflect Tair’s thrown dagger. There was a loud clang and a shower of sparks as the steel met its claws, spinning the knife away into the dark.
“You think your puny knife can harm me? I will use it to pry out your eyes and…”
Again came the sound of Tair’s second dagger and this time the Zynnashan was barely able to deflect the weapon with the shaft of his spear.
“You talk too much,” Tair remarked, making note of where both of her blades fell.
The Zynnashan leapt at them with a frightening snarl, jutting its spear out at Myst’s chest. Both women whirled away from the spear as it struck the moist ground near the campfire. Tair dove for her daggers, while Myst turned, using her body’s momentum to jerk her sword up and snap the Zyn Beast’s weapon in two. The creature took two steps back, swiping a claw at Tair as she retrieved her second dagger. She rolled forward, easily dodging the Zynnashan’s clumsy attack.
Myst moved in on the offensive, swinging her uncle’s sword to the right, feinting to the left, and then striking low. The creature parried her attacks easily and even swung at Tair as she got close. Both women circled the beast, but if the Zynnashan was concerned, he did not show it. In fact, Myst was quite certain the thing was smiling. For every strike, the beast was there to block with a black claw. Tair tried to cut the Zynnashan, but she could not get close enough without getting injured herself.
Myst brought the sword in from the left, aiming at the beast’s ribcage, but it batted it out of the way. Using the momentum, Myst quickly turned and swung the sword up and down in a tight arc toward the Zyn’s head. The creature caught her uncle’s sword in both claw tips and brought its
muzzle close to Myst’s face. She could smell the musky odor of the thing; its black lips glistening in the firelight as they pulled back to reveal long, dagger-like teeth.
“I watched you fight in the battle of the city on the rock,” it said. Myst nearly gagged at the creature’s breath. “You are more talented than what I once gave you credit for. I would have killed you myself, but I was ordered to lead my pack against your people.”
Myst pulled and tugged on the sword, but the beast would not let it go. “You were ordered? Your kind has no order! You kill! You destroy!” she shouted and tried to push the Zyn Beast instead.
“No,” the wolf said with a clack of its jaws. “We hunt.” With a powerful flex of its shoulders, the Zyn Beast tore the sword from Myst’s hands and swatted her away with a backhanded slap of its massive fist. The swordswoman flew across their camp and slammed into a tree, sliding down the trunk until she crumpled to the ground.
With a scream of rage, Tair came at the beast, moving closer than she had before. She danced into the Zyn’s range, dodging its swings until one of her daggers slid across its abdomen, leaving a wet trail of blood. The Zyn released its own howl of anger and pain, surprised that the human was able to inflict any damage. With two fast swipes, the beast grabbed both of Tair’s wrists and squeezed until she screamed and dropped her blades. The Zyn then hoisted the squirming female up close.
“Twice you have injured me, little human,” it said, its eyes glowing hotter. “I think I shall pull your limbs off so that you cannot do that again.”
Tair shouted in pain as the Zyn Beast began pulling her arms at the wrists. She kicked her feet and jerked her body as hard as she could, but she could not reach the towering monster. Her left shoulder popped and she screamed again. She could feel her muscles begin to tear, felt her bones buckling under the pressure of this powerful monster. Before she could utter another scream, Myst’s sword suddenly protruded from the Zyn’s stomach, barely missing her own. She was released immediately and she fell to the ground, writhing in pain.
Rage of the Diamond's Eye (The Guildsmen Series Book 1) Page 27