Abner deflected each attack and those he didn’t he spun away gracefully from, taunting the Saurian. The armor slowed the Saurian, yet it didn’t make him any easier to kill. After several swift strikes, Abner hadn’t made a dent on the silver chest plate. There was a low growl from behind him, and Abner didn’t need to turn to know what it belonged to.
The wolf had he released from its cage below the arena growled again. It was only logical Lord Reiner would keep the creatures for a feature in his games after their success in previous years. As the beast threw back its head with a vicious howl, the crowd erupted into cheers again.
“We need to work together!” Abner said.
“Fine!” the Saurian said. He ran at the wolf absent thought.
Coiling, the wolf leapt at the Saurian, ignoring his flailing sword, knocking the man flat on his back. Abner ran to his crossbow, hastily pointing it at the wolf, busy gnawing on the man’s throat. With two quick taps he fired, both bolts taking the hungry animal in the side. It was already too late for the Saurian who bled out where he lay.
To the cheers of the crowd Abner removed his bolts from the wolf before following a path west of the altar. Upon it he found a trail of blood that led to a young bearded man, skewed on one of the large wooden pillars, arrows carefully placed in different parts of his body to ensure he died slowly. All that remained of his armor and clothing was a Renori loincloth mired in dirt and mud.
“Help me.” He coughed sending blood trickling from his mouth.
Abner drew his dagger and the man’s eyes widened in panic. “I’m sorry, friend, but I can only help you to a faster death.”
“Of course, I understand. May you win this tournament. Good luck and thank you.”
Abner brought the dagger up to rest over the man’s heart. With a nod from the him Abner slid the cold steel into the soft yielding, bloody flesh. The unknown man breathed out as the dagger pierced his heart and found his final rest. Abner turned away wiping the dagger on a cloth before pressing on further into the arena.
A loud drum overhead beat twice, signaling two deaths of the final eight contenders. Six remained alive within the arena and now less than half the field roamed throughout its walls. Abner was faced with another sharp bend bringing him face to face with a combat between a leather skinned man from the Islands and a giant Highlander.
Each man wielded a weapon from his native lands. The Islander swung a double-sided scythe viciously around his head in an attempt to catch the Highlander off guard, cautiously watching his flanks with a battle-axe. With a vicious sideswipe, the Highlander aimed to cut his opponent in half. The scythe swung up, blocking the attack, the second blade swinging around, forcing the larger man to leap back.
Abner took the advantage, stepping in underneath the shadow of the Highlander, cutting low at the giant, taking out his knee with a single jab. The Islander’s eyes widened, assessing the new threat, yet dropped the scythe’s aim, taking his opponent’s head clear off, splattering Abner with blood. The crowd went wild with cheers again as the drum beat another note.
Retracting his sword from the leg of the Highlander, Abner was forced back, diving away from the murderous arc of the blade. Growling, Abner drew his dagger, running forward, ducking under the arc again. The blade penetrated the leather armor of the Islander, forcing him to scream. Abner rose and saw the hooked scythe coming around for another pass.
The thrum of a longbow rang out across the ground, a black arrow planting itself in the Islander’s bare chest. The drum sounded again. Abner dove for cover behind a pillar as another arrow raced overhead. Malvrok had always told him that he had some of the fastest reflexes, now was the time to test them. Carefully Abner slid the crossbow off his back, placing his sword back in its sheathe before ducking his head around the corner to check on the archer’s position.
Two arrows were in the air before Abner had to duck behind the pillar once again. The glance told him all he needed to know. Behind his storm of arrows, the archer stood exposed in limited cover, making him an easy shot at no more than seventy feet. Taking a deep breath Abner visualized his target and stepped out from behind the pillar opening fire. He loosened three bolts before ducking back behind the pillar as the returning arrow smacked into the wood.
Another loud drum beat filled the air around the arena to the cheers of the crowd. Knowing it was safe, Abner stepped out from behind the pillar, walking straight into the path of another arrow that took him in the shoulder. The warrior fell to the ground, his blood seeping out of the wound. Abner tore the arrow from his body, thankful that his armor had stopped most of the penetration. The wound stopped bleeding almost instantly.
“You missed!” Abner said. He waved the arrow above his head.
Another black-tipped arrow tore through the sky plucking its blood-stained brother from his hand. Abner rose into a crouch pulling the trigger as he went sending more bolts into the air. The archer successfully dodged the first, however the second tore through his throat, leaving a bloody mess on the sands. Now he was dead.
Four men remained in the arena. The sound of swords clanging together came from Abner’s right and he turned to find two black haired Sword Lords entering the pillar covered area. Both men grinned as they saw the boy before him, his Aksah a mere shadow of theirs that ran down to their waists. Each man was a veteran, with at least ten years’ experience under their belts.
Wasting no time, Abner opened fire with the Hunter’s crossbow again, targeting one Sword Lord. A moment later, he was a pincushion filled with half a dozen bolts. Abner had no time to readjust his aim, firing on the second Sword Lord. Instead he threw the crossbow, drawing his sword just as the Tyrainian reached him, enraged by the loss of his brother in arms.
Honor was one of the most upheld values by Tyrainian Sword Lords; one that Abner had just broken shooting the man. He was met with a flurry of blows, the remaining Lord’s sword seeming to attack from all directions at once. Abner was forced back further into the Labyrinth as he tried to survive the onslaught.
The Sword Lord jabbed forward, expecting Abner to parry it. Instead he ducked to the side, causing the blade to miss entirely taking its owner with it. He was quick to recover, standing his ground slashing back at Abner who caught the blade on his own, holding it steady. The young warrior lashed out with a kick straight to the Lord’s knee, forcing him down. The Tyrainian recovered quickly, lashing out with another blow that Abner blocked again.
Again the Sword Lord drew his blade away attempting another strike. Abner spun, just as the man rose to his feet. The young warrior’s blade pierced through the stomach of the Sword Lord sending him to his knees once again to the cheers of the crowd. Pulling his blade from the Sword Lord’s stomach Abner knew there was one man left to kill in the arena.
Trumpets sounded instead of the drum, silencing the crowd. Abner raised his hand high in the air, sword stained with blood, its runes mimicking the color upon its steel. The clanging of steel reached Abner’s ears as if the gates were opening again, however just behind him sand was falling into a deep hole. From the depths of the arena rose a man Abner thought he would never see again. Councilor Graytooth was the final man in the tournament.
11
Death Match
Lord Reiner sat up in his chair as he saw his champion rising from out of the sands. Graytooth was truly a god amongst men, towering over all those before him, marred from many battles the scars etched into his flesh. The Alilletian would now look to settle the score with the boy that had inflicted his latest wounds.
A man that could injure Graytooth was one that intrigued Reiner as the two Councilors had been friends for many years. Often the men were taken as prisoners, to stand trial for execution as wounding or killing a Councilor was punishable by death. The assassins from the Blood Brotherhood had clearly failed their contract, but that would be rectified.
Reiner gestured to his magician and the shadow like figure that was never far from sight, wrapped in a cloak covering
him from head to toe. The Councilor strode to the mechanical platform that shot him and his small entourage down the arena floor. He could almost visualize the slaves underneath the floor working the levers.
A crisp wind picked up over the arena, sending sand flying in all directions. Both fighters drew closer to each other, beginning to circle like sharks.
“Should the boy kill Councilor Graytooth, should I kill him as well, my Lord?” Reiner’s bodyguard asked.
“No, we have others to see to that. Besides, you’re my protection against the Hunters that no doubt lurk in the shadows of my arena. See yourself become one,” Reiner said.
“My Lord.”
“Magician, my voice please.” With a wave of his hand, the Magician amplified Reiner’s voice to echo around the entire arena once more. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is rare that you will hear me speak at one of these events, however I feel the time is right. Before you stands Malvrok, Sword Lord of Tyrain, renegade, outlaw, and traitor to the people of Taagras. Who is to stop this man from becoming champion? That man stands before you my loyal subjects. I give to you, Councilor Graytooth!” The crowd took up the chant of Graytooth’s name with great enthusiasm, the very word echoing off the arena walls. “You may begin!”
Graytooth’s sudden appearance made Lois almost jump out of her seat. “No fucking way! That man, he was there the day Malvrok’s Fortress burned. He caused it!”
“Calm yourself, girl,” Barros said. He grabbed her shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do. It’s up to Abner now.”
“I was too late to stop him, Barros. Reiner has an army down there, underneath the arena, and one above it ready to kill Abner if he stands victorious. We need to do something now,” Rowan said.
“Fuck, I’ll take the roof, Lois, Rowan, you get down to Abner. Get him out of that arena as soon as Graytooth is dead. I have faith in the boy,” Barros said.
“And if he doesn’t succeed?” Rowan asked.
“We can still avenge Malvrok,” Lois said.
Down in the arena, Abner could only stare in disbelief at the man before him that once had kneeled, grievously wounded at his feet. A year on Graytooth showed little sign of slowed mobility and his wounds were all but healed.
“Graytooth!” Abner said. “Why are you here?”
“The Councilor calls me a friend, and I thought it would be interesting to kill a man I’ve already killed again. I’m surprised boy, did you really come here expect to escape alive?”
“You couldn’t kill me once before, you won’t be able to do it again. The last time we met I recall you on your knees in front of me. Now we’ll see you return to that position absent Vanguard to aid you in your escape.” Abner pointed his sword at Graytooth’s throat.
“You’ve had your last chance, boy. Your life belongs to me now!” Graytooth drew his two enormous battleaxes.
Seizing the initiative Abner charged forward, determined to recreate the maneuver he executed on the first Alilletian he faced. Graytooth moved with the speed of an enraged bull from the Islands, determined to swat the boy that faced him from the world. The two fighters met in the center of the arena, Graytooth’s second axe preventing Abner’s dive. Instead he was met full force by the first axe, nearly knocking his sword from his hand.
Since they had last fought, Graytooth was only stronger, his muscles more defined on his bare chest and his arms larger. The second axe came up in a murderous arc, forcing Abner to break from the first, rolling for cover. As the first axe came down again, Abner rolled forwards between the giant’s legs, taking several wild stabs. Two hit their target, causing the Councilor to cry out in pain.
Before Graytooth could turn, Abner was back to his feet, opening the Alilletian’s back with another long diagonal cut. Blood began to seep from the wound as Graytooth reached back with an axe the second attacking as a sweeper as he crouched, anticipating another blow. Abner thrust his sword out to the side in a desperate attempt to stop the blow. The wicked axe battered into his side, knocking him to the ground.
Abner grunted as his sword left his hand, looking up at Graytooth as the giant approached, a huge grin spread across his face. He swung one axe around aiming for Abner’s body. The warrior rolled out of the way, eyes obscured by the sand. He prepared for the second axe to swing down again, but instead Graytooth’s foot crashed down onto the boy’s armor.
“Now it is you beneath my heel where you belong, worm,” the Alilletian said.
His axe was inches away from Abner’s throat. The warrior’s sword was just out of reach. Using what strength he could muster, Abner grabbed a hold of Graytooth’s tree like leg wrenching it skywards knocking the big man off his feet. The Councilor fell backwards, allowing Abner to roll to the side, the pressure now lifted from his chest.
Short of breath and feeling as if his chest had been crushed, Abner rose, bloodied sword in hand, bashing it down onto Graytooth’s parry. With a roar the Alilletian rose, putting his entire body weight behind the weapon, forcing Abner back. He pounced forward, leaping after Abner his axe with the speed of a hurricane.
Faster yet Abner ducked under both blows, making a wild, but powerful thrust at Graytooth’s belly. The sword bit deep, driving through to Graytooth’s spine. With a roar the Alilletian dropped his last axe, grabbing Abner by the throat, attempting to crush the life from the boy.
“You’ve killed me boy, but how long until I crush your throat?”
Abner’s grip on his sword tightened and he lifted it higher into Graytooth’s body. The Alilletian continued to roar in pain before finally his grip weakened, his body slowly slumping to the sands. The crowd in the stands had become as quiet as a grave.
“For Malvrok,” Abner said. He remembered the Fortress and his quest for vengeance had been satisfied.
“Malvrok has done the impossible it seems. Overcoming all odds to win my tournament!” Reiner announced from his platform. “I’ve heard a lot about you from our late friend, Graytooth. The only problem is, you’re supposed to be dead, killed by your own blade. You’ve also grown younger since I last saw you. That tells me you are an imposter.”
“No, my Lord. I am his war child. I trained with him at the Fortress where he was butchered by the man I just killed,” Abner said.
“A favored student of Malvrok’s? I was unaware he took any for one on one training. None the less, it matters not. You have the amulet that I want. Hand it over and you will be rewarded with your life,” Reiner said.
“With all respect my Lord, Graytooth wanted the amulet as well, but look what happened to him,” Abner said pointing his sword at Graytooth’s corpse.
Reiner chuckled softly. “Graytooth was nothing more than a savage brute, dear boy. What kind of a man fights with two battle-axes? It’s a terrible shame that you and I didn’t meet under much more favorable circumstances. You could have risen to be something great within my personal guard. You’ve killed a Councilor and that is treason. Vanguard!”
Nothing moved around the arena for several seconds before Reiner called again. The crowd began to boo violently just as one gate opened. Lois’ blonde head appeared calling for Abner to run. Above the arena, Barros appeared his crossbow in hand, lining up Reiner for a shot.
“Councilor Reiner, your men on this roof are dead and nobody will be killing this boy that I’m taking as a novice. Surrender to me now and I won’t kill you,” Barros said.
“Hunter, this could be classed as an invasion of Renor and it is most certainly an act of war should you kill me,” Reiner said.
“I’ve started wars for less. Surrender now,” Barros said.
“Micah, get us out of here!” Reiner said.
The Magician flicked his wrist, sending out a light blue wall that hovered in front of the three men on the platform. Barros fired his crossbow, each bolt imbedding itself in the magical shield. Below the slaves had begun to work, pulling the platform to the highest floor in Renor’s official tower.
“Get to the tower!” Barros said. �
�We need to end him now!”
Abner and his two companions swiftly moved through the underbelly of the arena, passing what remained of the townspeople and what seemed like every spectator in the arena. Barros had made his presence well known as he began dropping bodies from the roof onto the sands. With Rowan acting as a shield, the group were only just behind Barros as he ran up the stairs to gain access to Reiner’s tower.
“Good to see that you made it,” he said as the group slowed down.
“We’re not the only ones,” Rowan said. He drew his axe.
“Fucking Vanguard!” Barros knelt as if to retrieve something from the innards of his cloak. “Watch this,” he said.
In a flash the Hunter threw his arms out towards the twenty armored members of the Renori Vanguard. Each man dropped, save for one man that lingered on his feet before joining his comrades falling face first into the dirt. Barros strode over to the guards, inspecting the weapons he had thrown at them. From half the men he collected knives growing in size, turning the color of blood.
“I’ll scale the tower with these, best we split up in case we get overwhelmed,” Barros said. A horn blew from overhead, a signal from the tower. “Well looks like we’re going to be severely outnumbered. Renor stationed a regiment only a click away from here.”
“You better get moving. We won’t be far behind you,” Rowan said.
Barros wedged the first knife in between the slabs that made up the tower. He pulled on it before nodding and placing another slightly higher. “Just like climbing up an icy mountain.”
“Don’t fall!” Rowan said. “Right, you two. Let’s get to work on this door.”
“What’s there to work on?” Lois asked.
“You’ve never seen a door defended by magic before? Jeez, guess I have a lot to teach you when you get back to the Huntrey. Malvrok should have taught you better,” Rowan said. “Give me a minute to work this door.”
The Toldar Series Box Set Page 28
