"A little jumpy aren't you, Kamahl?" asked Talon. "Perhaps we should fight tomorrow. I wouldn't want to take advantage of your fatigue."
"You wouldn't, eh?" asked Kamahl, turning back to his adversary, but keeping an eye on Tybiel and Joha until they left the arena. "Then what were you doing this week? Studying me? Looking for weak spots? Tiring me out?"
With that, Kamahl leveled the tip of his sword at Talon, which was white hot from the two previous battles, and let loose a streak of blue lightning that flew at the golden-haired barbarian.
Talon dived into a forward roll underneath the wave of lightning that crackled over his head, but as he came to his feet again, the trailing end of the wave caught the barbarian in the shoulder and slammed him back to the ground.
Kamahl moved in on his fallen foe, but Talon was quick. The taller barbarian used the momentum from the blow of the lightning to twist his body on the ground and pop up to his knees. From there, Talon jumped up and kicked his legs up over his head, landing on his feet, axe at the ready, facing Kamahl.
"Yes, 1 watched you this week, Kamahl," said Talon as he sidestepped around his advancing opponent. "You're strong but impulsive. You forge ahead when an opening presents itself and use deception when that fails. I studied your moves, and 1 am prepared to defeat you. Where is the dishonor in that?"
"I say you orchestrated this entire tournament to your advantage, Talon," said Kamahl. "You sent your troops in one at a time to give you and you alone a chance to beat me. That is your dishonor. You call the barbarians your brothers, yet you use them like so much cordwood in the hearth."
Talon glanced at the crowd at the mention of the Pardic warriors, and Kamahl rushed forward to attack. He swiped his sword down and across as he moved through, giving the taller barbarian nowhere to dodge but straight back.
Talon seemed to have anticipated Kamahl's move, for he quickly sidestepped just as Kamahl charged. From there, Talon had enough room to feint back and then step in and bring the handle of his axe up inside Kamahl's reach. As Kamahl moved through, Talon smacked the shorter barbarian in the chin with all the force he could muster.
Any other warrior would have been laid flat on his back, but Kamahl took the hit and continued his charge, letting the force of the blow to his chin turn the rest of his body around, as he swung his sword back in a swift arc toward Talon's chest.
With the deadly blade rushing back at him, Talon turned his hands over on the haft of his axe, spinning the twin heads around and down on Kamahl's white-hot blade. As the weapons collided, Kamahl's blade diverted down and away from Talon's chest, but not before it cut halfway to the center of one of the axe heads.
Talon backpedaled several paces before taking up his wary, sidestep dance again. Looking at the four-inch gash in the blade of his axe, Talon let out a low whistle.
"If I have worked this tournament to my advantage," he said to Kamahl, who was' rubbing his chin, "don't you think that makes me the better leader? All of the champions gladly followed me this week. We knew we had but one chance of defeating you, so we all worked together to give me that chance."
"So you admit it!" roared Kamahl. "You all conspired against me. Me! The chosen leader of the tribes. Me! The wielder of the Mirari!" Kamahl pointed his sword at Talon again. But instead of a lightning wave, he unleashed a huge boulder of lava and fire that rolled straight and fast toward the blond barbarian.
With only a moment to react, Talon slammed the haft of his battle-axe down into the ground and cast a spell, spraying lightning out of each axe head. As the twin sheets of lightning arced out, they intertwined into a network that curved forward and down into the ground.
When the lava ball hit the lightning net, the ramp created by the curving intertwined bolts of electricity sent the rolling sphere up into the air and back toward Kamahl. But Kamahl was already on the move, charging into battle right behind his spell. Skirting around the lightning net to reach his foe, Kamahl found Talon at the ready, axes swinging in their hypnotic pattern from arm to arm.
Trying to time his attack with the downswing in Talon's axe dance, Kamahl uttered a word that extended his blade and turned it into a blue-white rod of pure lightning. Then, stepping in, he swung with every ounce of his strength straight over his head and down at the tall barbarian.
Talon abruptly changed the rhythm of his axe dance and whipped the weapon up over his head to deflect the incoming attack again. At the same time, the dexterous warrior twisted his body back and to the side to move out from under the blow.
The lightning blade arced down, catching the double axe at the juncture between the two heads. When the weapons collided, the area around the two barbarians exploded in light as a white ball of energy expanded out twenty feet and blinded the spectators for a moment.
When the ball of light dimmed, all could see Kamahl standing over the supine form of Talon. His strong right arm-cut off at the shoulder-lay next to his broken axe near the taller barbarian's hip. Kamahl had driven his blade straight through the axe and down into Talon's body. Only the taller warrior's quick reflexes had kept him alive, for had he not dodged at the last moment, more than his arm would have been severed by the blow.
Mustering strength that none of the tribesmen thought possible, Talon pushed himself up with his one hand and looked up at Kamahl.
"Look at yourself, Kamahl. Joha nearly gave his life for defying you."
The fallen barbarian took a moment to take a few shallow breaths, looked down at his oozing shoulder, burnt black from the heat of the lightning sword, then continued, grimacing at every word.
"Am I to be next…? You can't control your power or your battle rage… old friend. How can you expect to lead… the tribes? Yield the field to me… and allow me to lead you and the tribes against our common enemies. Stand at my side, Brother… don't stand against me."
"Never!" cried Kamahl, his eyes glazed over, and his face flushed with blood lust. Kamahl raised his sword, which still rippled with cascading lightning, up over his head, and swung it down toward his helpless foe.
Before the weapon could strike, a dark form rushed into Kamahl from the side, knocking the legs out from under the large barbarian and bringing him down in a heap on the ground next to his stunned mentor, who had also fallen from the impact. Balthor then jumped on top of his large student.
"Stop this now!" yelled the tough, old dwarf.
Getting no resistance from Kamahl, Balthor stood on the barbarian's chest. "This tournament is finished," yelled the dwarf from atop his living podium. "Talon is now unconscious, so I declare Kamahl the victor of this battle and the champion of the tribes. The victory celebration will commence at sundown."
As Balthor finished, the hushed crowd erupted in noise. Many warriors cheered Kamahl's victory, but many others booed the dwarf's proclamation and jeered at Kamahl. Finally Kamahl saw Joha jump into the arena and walk toward Talon. The crowd hushed again as Joha spoke.
"I know I speak for the Elite Eight and for many of the champions gathered here," began the scarred warrior, "when 1 say that we will not follow anyone as brutal, ruthless, and callous about honor as Kamahl. With the full support of the Elite Eight, I declare Talon to be the victor and the rightful leader of the tribes. Who is with us? Who will follow Talon?"
Many of the warriors began cheering and chanting Talon's name at the proclamation until Kamahl pushed Balthor off his chest, rose to his feet, and stared down the crowd.
"Tribesmen," he began, calm again even in the face of what he saw as treason. "I am the rightful leader. By trial of battle I have claimed the title. Any who would follow Talon are turning their backs on the honor of the challenge battle. Follow me, and I will lead the tribes to greatness. Follow me, and all in Otaria will know that we are the fiercest and most powerful warriors in the land. Follow Talon, and you will surely divide the tribes into a civil war that will tear us apart and leave us weak before our enemies."
An equally loud cheer erupted at Kamahl's words, but the re
st of the Elite Eight quietly extracted themselves from the crowd and filed onto the field to surround Talon. While the finest warriors in the mountains picked up their fallen comrade and his sundered weapon, Joha turned back to Kamahl.
"If civil war is what you want, then that is what we shall give you."
With that, Joha turned and led the Eight out of the arena. "Any who would follow the leadership of Talon, follow him now," he yelled at the warriors still standing at the edge of the field.
Fifty warriors left the walls. At the entrance to Balthor's Judgment, Joha turned one last time to look across the field at Kamahl.
"We give you one week to renounce your claim and yield to Talon's leadership. If not, there will be war. It is your choice, Kamahl!"
CHAPTER 10
Braids and her snakes headed across the moonlit plains, following Kamahl's trail from the village toward the mountains. Leer carried Braids on his back, so she could sleep. Neither the extra weight nor the constant buzzing of the black cloud of dementia space that swirled around the mage's head seemed to bother the snake-headed assassin as he led the squad silently across the continent.
"So the water mage told the truth," said Leer in the morning as Braids rode next to him on a rhino-headed bull. "At least part of the truth," said Braids. "Which is what worries me. That one is even more dangerous when he uses the truth." "I do not understand," said Leer.
"Neither do I most of the time," replied Braids. "But you can be sure that if Laquatas is telling the truth about anything, it's only to mask a larger deception. I would be happier if we knew more about his dealings with the Order."
"We could ask those guards we saw last night."
"Guards? What guards?" asked Braids, pulling back on the reins, which had little effect on the stubborn beast.
Leer came up next to Braids's mount, grabbed its horn in one hand as he ran beside it, and slowly twisted the beast's head down and to the side until it slowed to a halt.
"We came upon the camp of an Order patrol while you slept last night, mistress," he told Braids.
"Did you take care of them?" asked the summoner.
"They did not notice us," replied Leer. "We slipped past and continued on. You told us not to stop for any reason."
"So I did," said Braids as she tried, unsuccessfully, to turn her mount around. "So I did. Blast this beast!"
With lightning reflexes, Leer struck out at the rhino head, driving his fist deep into the beast's skull. As the summoned creature fell dead, it dissipated into a roiling black dementia cloud that settled around Braids as she landed hard on the ground.
"You told me to blast the beast," explained Leer as he helped Braids back to her feet.
"I must learn to watch what 1 say around you," said Braids. "Now, where was this Order patrol?"
"Back several hours," said Leer. "They will be heading north, I believe."
"Take the boys, find that patrol, and bring the leader back to me," said Braids. "I need to rest. This constant pace tires me."
"Yes, mistress," replied Leer, bowing to Braids. "Nod, Barrel, Soot, Grim, come with me. We have work to do."
"And boys," said Braids to the departing snakemen. "Don't leave any witnesses."
"We never do," said Leer.
A few hours later, the assassins returned with a single unconscious human guard.
"Good, you kept him alive for me," said Braids. "Let's have some fun, eh, boys?"
The guard woke up, spread-eagled on the ground, with the boys steadily pulling each of his limbs in a different direction. Leer held the man's head, applying pressure to his temples to prevent any movement. Braids kneeled on the guard's chest, holding her hand, like a claw, over his face. From her palm hung a thin strand of sticky filament with a bloated, black and red spider dangling at the end, just inches above the man's mouth. "She's quite pregnant, you know," said Braids, "and they love to lay their eggs in dark, warm, wet holes. Now, tell me, what do you know about the Order's plans for the Mirari?"
*****
Laquatas floated before his elite merfolk marines, quite pleased with himself. The reports he'd been receiving showed his plans were coming together nicely. Braids's death squad was terrorizing the continent. The Order, though slow to mobilize as always, had finally sent troops toward the Pardic Mountains. And the empress seemed oblivious to it all.
Talbot's last report had assured the ambassador that Veza and Llawan knew nothing about the complicated plot he had hatched to reclaim the Mirari. While Laquatas doubted the veracity of this claim-the empress was intelligent and must have some inkling-the ambassador was sure she could do nothing to stop him now, he was simply too far ahead in the game for her to catch up.
"Fellow mer, we embark today on the first leg of a long journey toward bringing our people back to power under the waves," began Laquatas, addressing his troops, who were arrayed below the entrance to the caves that would lead them all to the Krosan forest. "You are the best fighters and mages in all the ocean, and you have but one task-retrieve the Mirari, so we may destroy the walls of our prison and take back the seas from the cephalid scum that control the capital."
A great cheer erupted from the troops, sending thousands of tiny bubbles spiraling toward the surface of the trench. Laquatas smiled. After a sufficiently long celebration, the ambassador raised his hand, quieting the obedient marines immediately.
"Make no mistake," continued Laquatas as he swam down the ranks, "this will not be an easy task. The dry landers are decent warriors, and we will be forced to fight in their element. Some of you will die, but know that you will die heroes of the new mer empire, and your sacrifice will not be in vain, for with the Mirari in my hands, we will rule the seas forever!"
Another cheer was immediately quelled by the mer lord's raised right hand. "Your troop leaders have your orders. You are to make best time for the Krosan border and await my command. Norda speed your way and clear your path of dangers."
As the marines broke ranks and began filing into the chasm, Laquatas swam toward the leader of his marines. Commander Havelock was a short, stocky mer, as wide at the shoulders as a manta ray, with the bulk of a hammerhead shark.
"Havelock!" shouted Laquatas at the retreating marine.
"Sir," responded the commander as he turned to face his lord.
"I need to speak with you for a moment in private."
"Yes, sir."
Laquatas lead the shorter but stronger mer back to the bottom of the trench and away from the queuing marines. "I will travel with you into the mainland," began Laquatas once he was sure they were far enough away not to be overheard. "However, I will need to go topside once we reach the plains to keep track of the enemy's movements,"
"Is that wise, sir?" asked the commander. You will be vulnerable and behind enemy lines."
"Believe me, Commander," said Laquatas, smiling, "I will be safe. I will have my bodyguard, Burke, with me at all times."
"Very good, sir."
"While I am scouting, you will be in charge of the troops," said Laquatas. "Have you ever used one of these?" Laquatas handed Havelock a mirror.
"Yes, sir. I was issued such a device during Aboshan's last war on the empress."
"Good. I will keep in touch with you through this mirror," said the mer lord. "Do not contact me until you reach the rendezvous point inside the Krosan forest. If I have need of your assistance before then, I will contact you. Keep this mirror with you at all times."
"Yes, sir."
"Good luck, Commander," said Laquatas. "Now get your troops to the forest. Everything is riding on those warriors."
*****
"Report!" ordered Eesha to her scout. "What news do you bring from Lieutenant Dinell?"
"Dinell reports meeting no resistance on his march toward the mountain commander," said the aven scout handing the detailed report to his commander.
Commander Eesha grasped the report in her claws and skimmed through the summary. "What is this about missing patrols?"
"Dinell has heard tales from others in the field of a death squad making its way across the continent," said the scout. "The reports are sketchy at best, but at least two patrols are missing, and two others are overdue. Also, another scout has reported that the village of Alewell is completely deserted. There was evidence of an attack in the village, but it must have happened quickly, for there were few signs of struggle. Everyone in Alewell is missing and presumed dead, ma'am."
"This is troubling news, Corporal," said Eesha, paging through the report. "It would seem that the ambassador was correct about the Cabal's interest in the orb. If you plot these attacks on a map, they form a line between Cabal City and the Pardic Mountains."
"Yes, ma'am."
"How many troops does Dinell have?" asked Eesha.
"Ten infantry units and five aven units, ma'am."
"How many mages?"
"The standard, ma'am-one mage in each aven unit plus an extra mage per two infantry units. Ten in all."
"Yes, I can count, Corporal," sneered Eesha as she unruffled her wings and rose from her seat.
"Sorry, ma'am."
Commander Eesha strode across the room to a wall covered by a huge map depicting half of the continent in painstaking detail. It was Eesha's major achievement since assuming the leadership of the Order. Aven mages had spent months flying over every square mile of the continent, using magic to capture the lay of the land onto parchment, which was then transferred onto Eesha's wall map. Even now, many of the commander's mages flew reconnaissance over the southern portions of the continent, working to finish the map.
"An accurate map is more important in a war than a hundred infantry units, Corporal. Remember that," said Eesha as she peered at her wall. "Now, tell me, where were Lieutenant Dinell's forces when you left them?"
The corporal pointed to an area just south of the Krosan forest, which was the only spot on the northern half of the map that had no details. The forest was nothing more than a dark, featureless area.
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