by Billy Wong
Rose's gaze shifted to another section of wall. "Seems like Phanim's armor was a gift from the gods, or at least that's how the legend goes. It must have given him his strength... and our friend's, too."
"Useful to know, if we get the chance to take him without it. Now, if you're done taking in the artwork, let's go."
Rose followed her husband out, clinging to her last bit of hope that the battle he foresaw could be avoided. Even if he was an impostor, Phanim did not have to be evil...
#
They returned home to find Derrick missing, and queried frantically about his whereabouts in the local inns and taverns. But it was he who found them on the way out of one run-down establishment. He looked haggard and exhausted, eyes red from lack of sleep, and bore a long healing cut along his scalp. "What happened?" Rose asked, though she all but knew the answer.
"Someone tried to kill me," he said flatly. "Phanim sent him."
Though not surprised, Rose felt disappointed that Phanim was as bad as she had feared. "How do you know? Did he tell you?"
"He underestimated me. So I subdued him and made him tell." There was not a shred of pride in his voice.
"What did you do after that?" Finn asked eagerly.
"I killed him. It was the safest thing to do."
If not as mighty as his friends, Derrick was a warrior too. Rose gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, then asked, "What else? Has there been any other news of Phanim?"
Derrick looked worriedly at her. "He killed the men Sierra sent to bring him in, and overthrew another noble too. And people have been supporting him more and more..."
Finn scowled. "Then it's time to do away with him once and for all. Do we know where he lives?"
"Yes. In fact, he's made that a constant reminder of his merit..."
#
Once more, Rose and Finn headed for the tower where Bolloxo had dwelt. That "Phanim" had tried to kill Derrick was more than enough to warrant confronting him; that he was surely plotting to take over the country only added to their justification. Over thirty retainers loyal to the impostor tried to stop them, but proved no match as they were cut down like wheat. The couple arrived atop the tower to find him waiting in armor and helm, standing with arms crossed in the very spot he had slain Vrilluos. Crouched behind him was his birdlike mount.
"Who are you?" Finn asked. "We know you're not Phanim. Are you going to hide behind that mask forever?"
"No, but why should I reveal myself to you? You will be too dead to care, soon enough."
"If that's the case, what harm is there in showing us?" He grinned. "Then again, I doubt you're significant enough for us to recognize you."
The man chuckled. "I am hardly one to be blinded by your taunting. But I suppose you are right; there will be no harm in letting you know your killer. Before I show you, though, let me ask you: Kayland is an unstable land, which has lost a king and a regent in the past five years. What makes you so adamantly against a strong steadying hand to replace the failing monarchy? What makes you cling so rigidly to your dated tradition?"
The back of her neck growing hot with anger, Rose stared him in the eye and shook her head. "Two things. One, our government isn't inherently unstable. Events in these past years could have thrown any system into shambles. And two... arrogant, selfish men of ambition like you are the flagbearers of evil. I've heard the exact same line of reasoning from Prince Victor, and did I open my arms to him? We're taking you down, just like we did him."
"Funny you should mention that name." He lifted his helm free, revealing an extremely familiar face. Prince Victor's face. "You are the same as you always were, Rose. So righteous, yet are you not a butcher, a monster? Remember that you have killed thousands in your short life! And Finn is the same, only less righteous. Well, after today you will both change—and permanently, in death."
"You changed your look," was Finn's simple response.
Finding her voice, Rose said, "I-it's you! How the hell did you get your hands on another powerful magical artifact, when I'd just relieved you of Clearsky?" And, she thought, what about the bird?
"How else, but by the will of the gods? Always, things fall into place to my benefit, as when your own good friend saved me from the Crimson Sow. No matter if you thwart me temporarily, you cannot deny my destiny. For inevitably, in the end, I will emerge as that which I am fated to be—the victor."
"You do tend to have luck on your side," Finn said. "But let's see you bounce back this time, from losing your life."
Victor smiled and set his helm back in place. "All right. Let's see if the result today is what you predict."
He drew his sword and lifted the great shield at his feet, and Finn charged. Before he could reach Victor, the birdlike mount sprang over its master to pounce upon him. Finn crashed down beneath its slashing claws, slapping wings, and snapping beak, flailing with his mace while he sought desperately to land a solid blow.
Rose and Victor ran to meet one another, and as he deflected her first cut she could already feel the difference. They had fought before, and she had always been the stronger; now it was reversed, his parry alone sending a numbing jolt up her arm. She knew he was about her weight, and just slightly taller, but his oversized armor made him look much more massive and his strength reflected that illusion.
She pressed him with everything she had, trying to keep him from bringing that power fully to bear. Her slashes and cuts assailed him from every direction, sometimes turning into thrusts at scarcely a moment's notice, and he struggled to defend them all. For all his terrible strength, she was still the more skilled of them.
Finn managed to pitch his avian foe off himself, but only bought an instant's respite as it rolled back atop him before he could rise. His face grew bloody while its wings pounded into him again and again with brutal force, and from the ground he could not put much weight behind his blows and little damage showed on its resilient hide. Its beak stabbed down and his mace knocked it aside, but only stunned it momentarily before it resumed its attack with raking talons.
Rose blocked a blow which staggered her though it glanced off her shield. Victor rushed with his shield before him, and she twisted around to strike at his back. The first hit made him stumble and gave her hope. Then he caught her sword between two shield spikes and wrenched it aside. He chopped down with his sword; Rose sidestepped, and his blow smashed thick cracks into the stone. Her blade rang against the top of his helm. It drove him to one knee, but the metal barely dented.
"You are strong, Rose," Victor said, "but the godly magic of Phanim is stronger!" With a triumphant yell, he rammed the front of his shield into her body. Five wicked spikes pierced her at once, into her shoulder, chest, stomach, side, and thigh. She screamed in agony.
He pushed her back, impaled on his shield, and in her anguish she could hardly see. She lashed out past the shield, but though he grunted under the impacts her sword would not breach his armor. Feeling utterly helpless as she was forced towards the edge of the roof, she called out through the blood welling up her throat, "F-Finn... Finn!"
Hearing her distress, Finn struck the bird-thing a blow to the neck which threw it off him and scrambled to his feet. He ran to aid Rose, but the bird bit down on his shoulder from behind and jerked him back. He swung his mace back over his head, bursting one of its eyes, and when it let go spun into a crouching swipe which snapped its left leg. Again he turned to Rose, blood pouring down his chest. Behind him, the crippled bird hopped up and flew into him. It bore him off the tower, thrashing in midair as it attempted to rip him to pieces.
Meanwhile Victor had pinned Rose against the wall around the roof, driving the spikes deeper into her to flood her mouth with choking blood. Even her freakish vitality barely allowed her to cling to life. But seeing her husband's peril ignited her will to fight, and while Victor drew back his sword to lop off her head she kicked him away. Blood gushed from her wounds as the spikes tore free. Sagging against the wall, she fought to stand on wobbly legs.
Victor stomped in. She threw herself forward and right to avoid the downward slash which nicked her arm. Falling to her knees, face to his groin, she felt dreadfully powerless. But then she realized her chance, and gripping him about his thighs forced herself to rise. Lifting Victor into the air, she slammed him down on his back. His head bounced off the floor, and the sword flew from his hand. Even with his helm, the fall must have rattled his brain.
He tried to sit, but Rose raised her shield in both hands and brought it down rim-first into his visored face. Again his skull cracked against the stone. He reached up to rake at her face, and she hit him with the shield again. His hand fell back, and his eyes rolled up into their sockets. Once more she struck. There was a wet crunch from inside the helm, and dark blood pooled beneath his head.
Gasping for breath while she hugged her tortured body, Rose dragged herself up against the wall. On the ground far below, she saw the prince's mount motionless atop her equally still husband. "Oh, Finn," she breathed, "please don't be dead..."
Rose staggered down the tower, falling down several flights of stairs on the way. She was within two yards of reaching him when she collapsed to her hands and knees, whereupon he began dragging himself out from under the avian carcass. "Finn!" she cried, smiling despite the hellish pain. "You're alive!"
"Of course," he said, grimacing as his leg got stuck. "You've fallen much farther than this; how damn weak did you think I am?" His voice grew softer. "Damn, you're a mess. You should bind those wounds, before you bleed out."
Rose crawled forward, defying her body's urge to sleep, and helped him get free. "How did you kill it?" she asked.
"Tore out its tongue." He raised a mangled arm, ripped to the bone and clearly broken. "Took a nice big bite doing it, too."
"You need to wrap that, too. Do mine, and I'll do yours?"
Finn nodded, then looked seriously towards the top of the tower. "What about him? Is he dead?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure? Did you check?"
"No, but I'm sure-" She paused, frowning at the possibility that Victor might get away to trouble their land again. "Let's bandage ourselves quick and hurry up. And hope he doesn't escape while we're doing that!"
They did so, and supporting each other returned to the roof promptly as they could. Victor's body lay there still, quite dead. Their great enemy had fallen, and they headed home arm in arm, their hurts more than redeemed by the relief in their hearts. There may not have been a king of heroes anymore, but one was hardly needed in the first place.
Besides, Finn would never have been content with someone else holding that title anyway.
Main cover image copyright © Andreas Gradin
Cover design copyright © Littera Book Designs http://litterabookdesigns.blogspot.ca/
Author Billy Wong is an avid fan of heroic fantasy, with a special love for strong female warriors. He draws inspiration from the epic legends of old, and is on a quest to bring over the top deeds and larger than life heroes back to prominence in today's literary world.
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Other Works
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