"Kamahl!" yelled Laquatas again. "Face me like a man, if you dare. It is time to settle this dispute as the barbarians always do, in honorable battle."
"What do you know of honor, you snake," said Kamahl as he dropped to the ground in front of Laquatas, landing in a crouch and looking up at the mer who stood not twenty feet away. "Your entire life has been a lie. Do you really want it to end in a lie as well?"
"I do not want it to end at all," said Laquatas. "Which is why I have brought friends to this honorable battle."
Laquatas pulled a mirror out of his coat and spoke into it. Pools of energy formed all around Kamahl as he stood and prepared for battle. Before the barbarian could even summon any creatures of his own, he was surrounded by mer warriors bearing tridents, spears, and nets.
The nearest marines launched their concerted attack, leading with the nets. Kamahl shot his hand up into the air and called a vine from the tree above, which wrapped around his wrist and pulled him from the ground just as the first nets landed where he had stood. Kamahl then swung to the side and released the vine, hitting the tree with bent knees and rolling down the trunk to land outside the ring of mer.
Laquatas had moved to the other side of the wide path, keeping his forces between himself and Kamahl. The marines advanced again, and Kamahl knew the nets would be thrown much higher this time to keep him from swinging back up into the trees. As the mer warriors closed, Kamahl called the vines again, but this time the green tendrils descended upon his foes, catching one around the neck, another encircled an upraised arm as the mer was about to throw a spear, and a third caught a marine by the foot, pulling the warrior upside down off the ground.
But there were too many, and the rest pressed forward. Kamahl dodged a spear and shredded a net with a spray of thorns from the tree behind him, and still they came on. As one marine stabbed at Kamahl with a spear, the barbarian ducked under and inside the attack, grabbed the mer by his scaly arm, whipped him around, and slammed him into the tree, which grew long spikes a moment before the impact.
Kamahl turned again to face his attackers, but the next marine had dropped low with his trident while the barbarian's back was turned. Sweeping in with the forked spear toward Kamahl's legs, the mer hooked the tines around the barbarian's ankle and swept him off his feet. A weighted net fell over Kamahl's body, pinning him to the ground.
"A well-timed attack, Havelock," called Laquatas to the mer who had dropped Kamahl with the trident. "You've greatly underestimated my marines, Kamahl. They may not be as fierce as your friends the nantuko, but constant training and simple telepathy allows them to coordinate their attacks with quick and decisive results.
"It's a pity it has to end like this, really," gloated Laquatas. "It was all too easy. To think that all the time and energy I spent chasing you and that blasted orb across the continent, and it should end like this. You on the ground unable to even reach me. But I assume the irony is lost on you. Oh, well. Kill him, Commander. You may have the honor."
Havelock raised his arms to drive the trident down into the barbarian's chest, but as he was about to strike, a battle-axe sailed into the gathered marines and struck the commander in the face, embedding itself up to the haft and driving the marine leader backward into the throng of mer behind him.
While the stunned marines stared at their dead commander, Kamahl summoned several vines from the tree to wrap around the net and pull it up into the air. Grabbing the net as it rose, Kamahl pulled himself up and kicked his feet out at the nearest marine, catching the mer in the jaw and whipping his head around so fast the blow broke the marine's neck.
Another marine came at Kamahl from the side, but the barbarian saw a blur of motion and heard a low, guttural growl as the shadowy figure he'd seen outside the Order camp barreled into the advancing mer. The figure dropped the marine with two quick swipes to its midsection, raking huge gashes in the mer with its claws and leaving the dead warrior on the ground in a growing pool of its own blood.
Kamahl glanced at the figure as he dodged an incoming net. "Balthor," he cried. "What did they do to you?"
"No time to explain," said the dwarf as he pried his axe out of Havelock's skull. "Get that snake. I'll keep these vermin off ye." With that, Balthor hooked his axe under his gray, clawed feet, rolled forward in front of Kamahl, and came up swinging. He sliced down through the chest of the mer in front of Kamahl and then tossed the axe at the next marine in line, catching the warrior in die shoulder and sending him spinning to the ground.
"Go!" said Balthor as he jumped on top of the downed marine and plunged his claws into the mer's exposed neck.
Kamahl raced through the small opening that Balthor had created with his axe, not looking back. The mer mage was backing away, his face twisted in horror as his last remaining forces fell at the hands of an opponent he'd left for dead.
"Now about that honorable battle you promised me," said Kamahl.
"This isn't over yet, barbarian," spat Laquatas as he waved his hand in a circle over the ground.
Seeing the shimmering portal begin to form, Kamahl called down the vines from the tree behind Laquatas.
"No you don't," he said, and four vines twisted around the mer's wrists and ankles and pulled him off the ground.
Kamahl walked over to look up at his nemesis, suspended harmlessly, his back flat against a tree, his arms held high over his head, and his legs splayed wide like a tortured marionette.
"Not this time," he said shaking his finger at Laquatas. "You can't escape your final judgment. We fight, or you die where you hang."
From behind, Kamahl heard Balthor's voice. "Kill him," said the dwarf as he came up behind the barbarian. "Do it now. He don't deserve an honor battle."
Kamahl glanced back at the carnage Balthor had left. All the mer were dead, even the three Kamahl had left hanging in the trees. Balthor's gray face and arms were covered in mer blood.
"You… you're dead," said Laquatas in horror.
"But I'm still a better man than ye are," spat Balthor. "After ye left me to die with that beast's arm stuck in me throat, I blacked out. I died. The next thing I know, this braided woman is standing over me in a tent, giving me a new life and a new purpose. To kill ye… dead and final. Do it. Kamahl. Do it, and then I can finally rest."
Kamahl turned to face his old friend, forgetting about Laquatas for the moment, more worried about his old friend than an old enemy.
"What did that Cabal witch do to you?" he asked. "The dwarf I knew loved battle but would never slaughter. What have you become, Balthor?"
"Vengeance."
"I sense something more inside you, dwarf," said Laquatas, still hanging from the tree, his voice calm again. "Our previous encounters were too brief, but now I can sense the flesh of Burke inside you. It has spread through your body since your death, infecting you with dementia flesh. Dementia flesh that was created for one purpose and one purpose only-to serve me. Do you know what that means, dwarf?"
"What?" spat the undead Balthor.
"You are mine!" said Laquatas. "Now, kill Kamahl."
After glancing back at Laquatas, concerned over the mer's sudden calm, Kamahl turned back to his mentor just in time to pivot out of the way of the dwarf's axe, which Balthor had swung with all his strength right at the barbarian's chest. Kamahl spun to the side and backpedaled, trying to put some space between him and his possessed friend.
"Balthor, no!" yelled Kamahl as he moved. "I don't want to fight you. Take control, old friend. Fight back."
"He can't control himself now Kamahl," said Laquatas. "That's Mirari-created matter inside him, created by your other dead friend, Chainer. It's too powerful for him to fight. It's too powerful for you to fight."
Kamahl back flipped away from another swing, just barely getting his legs out of the way of Balthor's wicked axe as it pounded into the ground. Reaching up to the trees, Kamahl called the vines down to tie up his mentor, but Balthor swung his battle-axe in an arc over his head and sliced through th
e incoming foliage. The dwarf then hooked the axe under his feet and threw himself into a forward roll toward Kamahl, the twin blades of his axe flashing as he barreled toward the barbarian.
Kamahl dived to the side in a roll of his own, but he stopped short with his hands and kicked his feet back at the spinning blur, sending the dwarf careening away into a tree. Balthor smashed his back into the tree, but his feet continued up and around, driving the axe blade into the trunk and leaving the dwarf hanging upside down. In that moment, Kamahl got to his feet and glanced back at Laquatas, who was twisting his arms trying to work them free from the vines.
Balthor stalked up behind Kamahl again. The barbarian turned, ready to dive out of the way of Balthor's mighty axe. The dwarf swung down and across. Kamahl jumped to the side, but the attack was just a feint. Balthor reversed the direction of his attack, swiftly turning his hands over on the haft of the axe and thrusting the butt hard into Kamahl's gut.
Kamahl doubled over as the blow drove the wind out of him. Balthor slapped the haft up into Kamahl's face, sending him flying over backward, his nose broken. Unable to breathe and with blood streaming down his cheeks, Kamahl tried to roll to the side to avoid what he knew was coming.
Before Kamahl could move, Balthor jumped up on his chest, raised his axe up over his head and swung down at the barbarian's head with all his might. Kamahl slapped his hands together in front of his face, catching the axe blade between his palms, inches away from his bloody, broken nose.
Kamahl looked into Balthor's eyes, but all he could see was a raging fire that burned inside the body that used to belong to his friend. If any part of Balthor was still there, it was buried too deeply for Kamahl to see.
"Fight it, Balthor," Kamahl pleaded, as the two warriors struggled to control the axe. "Fight him. You can win this battle. Balthor never loses."
Balthor screamed, but it was the guttural roar of an animal, not the painful wail of a tortured soul. The zombie dwarf released the axe with one hand, plunging his claws into Kamahl's shoulder and just missing his neck as Kamahl twisted his head out of the way at the last moment.
Balthor raised his bloody claws up into the air, but Kamahl kicked his legs up, smacking the dwarf in the back with enough force to send him flying head over heels through the air and into the trees. The barbarian then rolled over slowly and pushed himself back to his feet, blood running down his arm to drip on the ground as he stood.
"Look out, Kamahl," said the mer, who had gotten one arm free and had pulled out a knife to hack at the vines still holding his other wrist. "Here he comes again. And when I get free, I'll be off to find your sister. Maybe with her life in my hands, you'll be more willing to give up that which is so rightfully mine."
Balthor came at Kamahl, swinging his axe back and forth as the barbarian dodged and wove to stay out of the dwarf's deadly reach. But the dwarf's pace was slow and uneven, and his attacks seemed to falter and halt in mid-swing.
"Kill me, Kamahl," said Balthor, straining to get the words out as his arms continued to swing the axe back and forth.
Kamahl backed up, staying out of the dwarf's reach as he looked for something of his old friend inside the killing machine that now begged for death.
"Use the sword," whispered Balthor, the fire in his eyes fading, replaced by the tired, soulful gaze of a warrior who'd seen too many battles. "Only the Mirari has the power to finish this. Don't let that bastard get Jeska."
Kamahl still hesitated. He couldn't bear the thought of using the Mirari against Balthor. The memory of his battle with Jeska still haunted him. But then he heard the words of Thriss in his mind.
"Death leads back to life. When that circle is broken, the entire world suffers," said the guardian. "Release him back to the world, Kamahl."
Balthor came at him again, and Kamahl reached over his head to draw out his sword, the blade catching a stray beam of sun and reflecting the white light into his mentor's green eyes.
"Farewell, old friend," he said.
"Goodbye, me son," said Balthor. "Send me to Fiers. I am ready."
Even as he spoke, Balthor continued to swing his axe, but the attacks were weak and obvious. Kamahl easily stepped inside the weapon's reach and swung his huge sword hard through the dwarf's neck, slicing right through underneath his ash-gray face. A shadowy wisp of smoke slipped out from Balthor's sunken lips and drifted up into the Mirari, which flashed just as Balthor's head fell backward and his body fell to the ground, free at last.
Kamahl turned to face Laquatas, a tear streaming down his blood-soaked cheek, his face and neck flush from anger and sorrow.
"Now we fight, you snake," said the barbarian as he advanced upon the mer. Laquatas had freed both hands and was holding one vine while he reached out with his knife to cut at the vines holding his feet.
Kamahl strode forward, his sword held defensively in front of his body. He stopped just below the suspended mer. "Or should I just strike you down where you hang, as Balthor wanted?"
Laquatas gave up trying to free his legs, and instead grabbed the vine above him with both hands as he smiled down at his long-time adversary.
"That wouldn't be terribly honorable, barbarian," he said.
"I ask again," spat Kamahl, "what do you know of honor? You send honorable men to fight and die over your petty jealousies and your lust for power while you watch from the shadows. You sell your loyalty to the highest bidder then turn on your allies when they look away. You have never once fought for your own beliefs. Is it because you have no beliefs worth dying for? Are you afraid to face the lie that is your life? Or are you simply a sniveling little coward?"
Laquatas's eyes narrowed at the insult, and his horns flashed, blinding Kamahl for a moment. When his vision cleared, Kamahl saw the mer's long tail swinging up toward his face, catching him under the chin and knocking him backward. As he fell, Kamahl could see the vines beside Laquatas swinging. The transformation had freed the mer's legs.
Kamahl landed hard on his neck and back, his arms flying up over his head from the force of the concussion. As his hands hit the ground behind him, the large sword clattered out of his grip, tumbling backward and coming to rest near Balthor's head.
Kamahl's shoulder ached from the claw wounds, and his head throbbed from both the broken nose and the blow he'd just taken to his neck. But he had to get to the Mirari before Laquatas, so he rolled over and began scrambling toward his sword on hands and knees. Just as he grabbed the hilt, he felt the sword pull away from him.
Looking up, expecting to see the lanky mer standing over him, Kamahl found nothing but trees and leaves above. The sword inexplicably continued to rise, and it pulled him up behind it. As he came to his feet, Kamahl tried to pull the sword back toward him, but the force pulling the sword was strong enough to lift the barbarian into the air along with the weapon.
In a moment, Kamahl was suspended several feet above the ground, hanging onto his sword to keep it from the mer, who chuckled behind him.
"How does it feel, Kamahl?" asked Laquatas. "Helpless? Vulnerable? You hate that most of all. And look, your back is turned to me. How convenient. Go ahead, let go. Let go and face me."
Kamahl tried to twist in the air, moving his hands around the pommel to turn his body to face Laquatas, but the sword pivoted each time he tried. The barbarian calmed his mind and reached out to the trees to get a better view.
From his astral vantage point, Kamahl could see Laquatas standing on the path, his arms raised over his head, his muscles taut and trembling as he struggled with the levitation spell. Then, lowering one hand to his belt, the mer pulled out his dagger, cocked his arm back and launched the blade, end over end, at the suspended barbarian.
Racing back just ahead of the dagger, Kamahl reentered his body and immediately swung his legs to the side, twisting to move his body out of the path of the tumbling blade. But he was too late. The dagger sunk into his shoulder blade, sending a searing pain down the length of his arm and making Kamahl lose his grip on t
he sword.
Calling vines from the trees, Kamahl wrapped four of them around the hilt of the sword to anchor it above the ground and out of the mer's reach. He then back flipped off the vines, landing on the path opposite Laquatas. Both mages looked up at the glittering orb hanging in mid air at the base of the huge silvery sword, and both reached out for it with their hands and their magic.
Kamahl willed the vines to move the sword toward him but met resistance as Laquatas obviously used his own power to pull the sword away.
"You have made your last mistake, barbarian," yelled Laquatas through clenched teeth. "I am the stronger mage. We both know that. Your physical strength can't help you now, and you cannot beat me with magic alone."
But even as Laquatas finished taunting him, Kamahl could see that he was winning the mental tug-of-war. The sword was inching its way slowly but surely toward the barbarian.
"No! It cannot be!" screamed Laquatas as two more vines shot out from the trees behind Kamahl, twining around the blade and pulling it even faster away from the mer.
Out of the comer of his eye, Kamahl saw movement beneath the sword, and Balthor's battle-axe flashed up into the air slicing through the vines that dragged the sword to Kamahl.
The barbarian nearly fell over backward from the release of tension on his vines but recovered in time to see the sword hurtling toward Laquatas, still trailing two vines. Kamahl tried to pull the sword up into the air by those vines, but the axe slashed in again and cut the sword completely loose.
Kamahl rushed at Laquatas but couldn't outrun the sword. Reaching over his shoulder as he ran, he pulled the mer's dagger out of his back and snapped it forward. The dagger and the sword reached the mer at the same time, and the dagger imbedded into the back of the mer's arm, plunging right through his wrist.
Laquatas screamed, and blood streamed down his arm. Kamahl could see him grasp at the sword, but it seemed his fingers wouldn't close over the pommel with the dagger sticking through his wrist. Instead, the mer plucked the sword out of the air with his left hand and pointed it at the barbarian just as Kamahl reached him.
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