Darkblade Guardian

by Andy Peloquin

  The Hunter turned and studied the Hrandari landscape below.

  "Everything you see once belonged to the Abiarazi, and it will once again. But not if that viper is in charge. Because of him, we skulk atop a mountain instead of conquering Einan as we should. We have an army at our disposal, yet we hide? Would you swear your loyalty to a coward?"

  "You forget about the Elivasti's curse."

  The Warmaster spat. "I forget nothing! They are our vassals, sworn to our service. Whether they live or die matters not."

  I'm sure they'd disagree with you.

  The demon gave a dismissive wave. "So what if a thousand—nay, ten thousand—fall to the madness? We have more than enough to conquer this pitiful continent. My army is enough to crush any stronghold, overcome any fastness. Humans will join our ranks in droves just to avoid being slaughtered. They will bolster our numbers until we wash over this pathetic world in a wave of death and destruction. If only that cowardly Sth-za-krkl were dead."

  "And that is where I come in." The Hunter's words came out cold and cruel.

  The Warmaster gave a stiff nod. "Indeed." He stabbed a finger into the Hunter's chest. "You are the key to all of this. Once the Sage is gone, I will be free to conquer. We will do as we please."

  "Why not just kill him yourself?"

  The huge demon shook his head. "If only it were that simple. If I strike him down, the Elivasti still loyal to him would rebel. But your actions will be much easier to explain away. You can claim it was your hatred of the Sage or, failing that, an act of vengeance, settling the score of your father or some such. No doubt the Sage's men will seek to take their anger out on you, but they will heed my command. I have given this a great deal of thought, and it will work."

  The Hunter screwed up his face in contemplation. "And what is my reward? Aside from a thousand Elivasti out for my blood?"

  "That is why my plan is so perfect! The Elivasti are sworn to serve me. Before they can have your head, they will be firmly under my control. They cannot act against my commands. And if I order them not to raise a hand against you, they will do nothing."

  "And what's to stop you from betraying me?"

  Anger flashed in the Warmaster's eyes. "Because that is not my way! I am no snake, slithering in the grass and striking my enemies in the back." His huge hands twitched, his face flushing. "I am the greatest warrior that has ever lived. Believe me when I say I do not need to strike from the shadows. I am an Abiarazi of honor."

  The Hunter nodded. "It sounds simple enough. But you still have not told me what I gain from the bargain."

  "Glory!" Maddened lust filled the Warmaster's expression. "The thrill of battle. The feel of your enemy's blood hot on your face. The song of death pounding in your ears." He licked his lips. "You were destined for greatness. The Bucelarii were created to fight alongside us. I offer you the chance to fulfill your destiny."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Hunter stifled his loathing. The Abiarazi were so predictable. They sought power, to rule, at any cost. Even if it meant killing their own kind, they would never hesitate. They seemed unable to comprehend that the Bucelarii—their own offspring—had any desire other than blood and death. That hubris was the weakness he sought.

  He could pretend to go along with the Warmaster, and the demon would believe him an ally. But that would turn the Sage against him. From what he had seen of the two, the Warmaster, for all his strength and skill, was a far less dangerous opponent. The Sage's cunning and guile made him the greater threat.

  So what now? His mind raced. If I agree with the Warmaster, the Sage becomes my enemy. But I can't afford to make the Warmaster my enemy.

  How could he play this? What could he say to placate the Warmaster, but without betraying the Sage?

  The sound of a nervous cough saved him from having to answer.

  The Warmaster whirled. "What?" he roared.

  A scarlet-robed Master of Agony cringed at the fury in the huge demon's voice. "F-Forgive me, Warmaster, but you asked to be informed the moment he arrived."

  The Warmaster's scowl deepened. "He is here."

  The man gave a jerky nod. "Even now, he is climbing the stairs."

  "Go." The Warmaster waved him away. "I will be there when he enters the main chamber."

  The Master fled without a backward glance.

  The Warmaster's face creased into a sneer. "So the serpent finally shows his face."

  Just in time, too, the Hunter thought. The Warmaster had all but revealed his plans for the Sage. With his next breath, he would have demanded the Hunter choose a side. Now, the Hunter had time to think of what to say when the Warmaster inevitably pressed the issue.

  "You have given me a great deal to think about," he said in a slow voice. "I will reflect on your words throughout the evening and have an answer for you before I depart."

  The Warmaster's face creased into a confident smile. "Good." He clapped a hand on the Hunter's shoulder. "We are much alike, you and I. We are warriors, not cowards and backstabbers like the Sage." He spat the name as an insult. "We would accomplish great things together."

  The Hunter mirrored the demon's grin. "Of that I have no doubt."

  The Warmaster knocked back the contents of his goblet and slammed it onto the stone railing. "Let us enter. From the sound of things, the main event is soon to take place." The scowl returned. "And our honored guest will be arriving at any moment."

  The Hunter followed the Warmaster back into the temple. The massive Abiarazi swaggered up the steps and to his throne.

  The Sage appeared through the doorway. Not a wrinkle showed in the fabric of the Sage's bespoke clothing, not a fold of cloth looked out of place. Hints of white ruffled lace sprouted from the neck and wrists of his crimson suit jacket. Golden clasps held his jacket closed over a pair of black pants, and his dark leather boots glistened with a fresh polish.

  He approached the dais and inclined his head. "Warmaster."

  "Sage," the huge demon growled.

  "By all appearances, a wonderful celebration, Warmaster. Perhaps a bit excessive, but a great honor to our guest." He raised his goblet in salute to the Hunter, but his voice held a biting chill.

  The Hunter nodded, his face a careful mask of neutrality. Disgust writhed in his gut. The Sage pretended friendship, all the while holding Hailen hostage. But he couldn't let the demon know that he'd discovered the boy's presence on Shana Laal, even though he wanted nothing more than to plunge Soulhunger into his smirking face.

  "Thank you." Venom dripped from the Warmaster's words. "It is no less than the Bucelarii deserves."

  The Abiarazi fixed each other with intense, unblinking stares. They locked in a wordless struggle, like two behemoths fighting for dominance. The Sage's Elivasti guards radiated a nervous tension that grew with every heartbeat, every roar echoing from the Masters of Agony filling the room.

  "Allow me to have a chair brought for your comfort." The Warmaster snapped his fingers and a scarlet-robed Master rushed from the room. He returned a moment later carrying a stool, which he set beside the Warmaster's ornate throne.

  "My thanks." For all the Sage's outward civility, his tone could have frozen sunlight. With elegant poise, he strode up the step and perched lightly on the stool, sipping from the goblet brought by one of his Elivasti.

  The Sage's cool response caught the Warmaster off guard. After a moment, he roared for another tankard and settled into his throne, his bland expression revealing his irritation that the Sage hadn't taken his bait.

  When the Warmaster buried his face in a huge tankard, the Sage glanced over. His unblinking eyes locked with the Hunter's, as if to say "See the manner of creature you are dealing with?"

  The Hunter nodded and sipped at his ale. This is proving easier than I expected. Both wanted him to kill the other, and both believed they offered him exactly what he wanted. It wouldn't take much to tip them over the edge into open hostility. He just had to find the right way to pit them against each ot
her.

  His inner demon chose that moment to remind him—painfully—of its presence. “When will you deliver on your promise?” The temple intensified the voice.

  Soon. The Hunter bit back a cry. It felt as if a spike had been driven into his brain. I have to find a victim first.

  The pressure mounted until his skull threatened to explode. He dropped his tankard and slammed a fist into his forehead in a fruitless attempt to stifle the torment that swelled to a crescendo of agony.

  Soulhunger's voice added to the chaos. Feed me!

  The inner voice radiated impatience. “Keep your end of the bargain, Bucelarii.” The pain receded to a pounding ache behind his eyes. He squeezed his eyelids shut, taking long, deep breaths to still the churning in his stomach.

  "What's this?" The Warmaster's voice boomed above the din. "Sleeping, at your own celebration?"

  The Hunter cracked an eyelid. The massive demon leaned forward in his chair, eyes narrowed, his face a mask of outrage.

  Fury flooded the Hunter. Look at what you've done! The Abiarazi abhorred anything that remotely resembled weakness. If they believed the Hunter flawed or feeble, they wouldn't hesitate to do away with him.

  “I will do much worse if you do not honor your bargain!”

  Then leave me in peace so I can do what must be done.

  His inner demon radiated sullen anger, but the throbbing dwindled to a tolerable nuisance. The Hunter sat upright, opening his eyes, mind racing. He had to mollify the Warmaster, ease his suspicions. Only one way to do that.

  He clenched and relaxed his hand, as if fighting an urge to grip a weapon. "Not sleeping. Fighting back the urge to slaughter every pitiful human in the room."

  The Warmaster started. "What?"

  The Hunter bared his teeth. "If too much time elapses between kills, the need for blood grows difficult to ignore. I control myself out of respect for my host."

  For a moment, the Warmaster's stunned expression remained. Slowly, suspicion gave way to bemused approval. He raised his tankard. "Then you have my thanks." He slapped the Hunter's back. "But if you are in control once more, there is a fight you must watch!"

  The huge demon turned to the crowd and raised his hands. Instantly, the room fell silent as all eyes locked on the Warmaster.

  "My brothers, is this not a truly glorious spectacle?"

  A deafening cheer rose from the scarlet-robed throng.

  The Warmaster held up his hands again. "Tonight is a night of revelry and jubilation. For now, after centuries of fruitless search, we are honored to once more count a true son of the Abiarazi among our numbers." He clapped a huge hand on the Hunter's shoulder.

  The shout reverberated from the temple's stone walls.

  The demon turned to the Hunter. "We dedicate our festivities to you, in celebration of your return. Your presence does us great honor, and this is our way of welcoming you to Kara-ket." He waved for a serving girl to bring another tankard of ale. He raised his own mug. "To the future!"

  The Masters of Agony shouted in response. "The future!"

  The Warmaster drained his tankard in a single draught, and his Masters of Agony did likewise.

  "And now," the Warmaster roared, "let us proceed with the battle we have all been waiting for!"

  The crowd cheered and whooped, banging their glasses against their benches and shouting, "Gallidus! Gallidus!"

  From the door of the beast pit strode a man. Twice the size of Commodus, he looked more beast than human. Coarse, dark hair covered his unclothed body. His clipped beard contrasted sharply with his long dreadlocks. His musculature rivaled the Warmaster's, with arms as thick as the Hunter's legs. He gripped an enormous spiked mace in stubby fingers as if it weighed nothing.

  "Gallidus! Gallidus!"

  The warrior raised his arms, and a deafening cheer reverberated through the room.

  The Warmaster shouted in the Hunter's ear. "He is one of the best to ever enter the pits. While he cannot compare to me, his skill puts many of my best warriors to shame." An ingratiating smile spread his lips. "Though I'd dare say you would hold your own."

  An ear-splitting cheer rattled the room as a massive, shaggy form lumber into the walled circle. Long, sharp claws tipped its enormous paws, and yellowed teeth protruded from jaws large enough to close around a man's head. Its beady black eyes took in the shouting crowd and the naked warrior before it. Opening its mouth, it let loose a roar that drowned out the cheers.

  A cave bear.

  An involuntary shudder ran down his spine. For a moment, he relived the terror of fighting the bear in the darkness. He had barely escaped with his life, yet this Gallidus fought the creature for sport.

  He's either suicidal or a fool. Gallidus laughed and bared his teeth, an answering growl rumbling from his massive chest. Eyes narrowed, he circled, hurling insults at the creature. Probably a bit of both.

  The cave bear rose to its hind legs, towering head and shoulders over Gallidus, and swatted at the fighter with massive forepaws. Gallidus ducked beneath a wild blow and rammed the head of his spiked mace into the bear's belly. Enraged, the bear dropped its head and lunged at Gallidus. Gallidus leapt aside, barely avoiding the snapping jaws. The bear flattened its ears and slammed its prodigious bulk into Gallidus, hurling the fighter from his feet to crash into the pit wall.

  The Warmaster banged his tankard against the arm of his chair. "Now this is what I call a spectacle!" He dashed back his ale and shouted for a scantily-clad serving girl to bring him another. He downed the fresh mug in a single pull and let out a mighty belch. Laughter rippled through the crowd.

  A quiet snort sounded beside the Hunter. The Sage had taken a seat opposite the Warmaster, to the Hunter's right, his expression a study in disinterest.

  Gallidus leapt to his feet before the bear charged again, rolled under a swiping paw, and backpedaled. Dropping to all fours, the cave bear lumbered after him. Gallidus gave way before the bear, clearly favoring his right leg. He retreated until he stood with his back to the pit wall.

  The huge beast charged again, head lowered, fangs bared. Gallidus dove to one side, and the bear's skull slammed into the pit wall with a terrible thump. Even as the beast shook its head, Gallidus leapt onto its back and brought the mace down hard atop its skull. An audible crack echoed through the chamber.

  Letting out a terrible roar, the bear tried to swipe at the man clinging to its back, but Gallidus wrapped his tree-trunk legs around the bear's neck and swung the mace again. The spikes drove deep into the bear's flesh. Blood sprayed from a deep wound in its shaggy head, and the massive creature staggered. With a howl of triumph, Gallidus brought the mace down one final time. The gut-wrenching crunch sounded loud in the silent room as he buried the weapon in the animal's brain.

  For one long heartbeat, everything was still. Gallidus sat atop his lifeless throne, and the crowd held their breath.

  A deafening cheer burst from the Masters of Agony. Cries of "Gallidus! Gallidus!" swelled to thunder as the fighter stood and raised his weapon—flecked with blood and bits of brain. Crimson droplets fell into his open mouth and covered his face and chest. The crowd only cheered louder.

  The Warmaster turned to the Hunter. Delight burned in his eyes. "See? Did I not tell you he is a fighter to be feared?" He stood, waving his arms wildly. "I wager that none in this room could defeat him. Not even the best of the Elivasti is a match for him!" Harsh laughter burst from his lips, and he added his voice to the cries of victory.

  The Hunter knew what he had to do. He had the perfect opportunity to satisfy his inner demon's demands and escalate the Abiarazi's mutual enmity.

  He stood and spoke in a confident voice that carried over the din. "I will take that wager."

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Warmaster choked on his ale. "What?"

  The Hunter met the Abiarazi's surprise with glacial calm. "Your man faced the cave bear armed with a mace. In the Chasm of the Lost, I faced a raging bloodbear with nothing more than a
bone club." He held out his arms. "I am not impressed."

  Years as an assassin had trained the Hunter to fight only when necessary. He had no reason to wish Gallidus dead. But this fight would solve two problems at once: silence the voices in his head before they drove him mad, and ingratiate him further with the Sage. If it meant killing a man who made sport of animals, he wouldn't lose a moment's sleep.

  For the briefest moment, the Warmaster's veneer cracked, revealing the demon beneath. His mouth hung open, his jaw working soundlessly. A vein on his forehead throbbed as outrage mingled with his incredulity.

  "What say you, Warmaster?" The Sage spoke in a quiet voice. Standing, he placed a hand on the Hunter's shoulder. "Are you prepared to stand by your words?"

  The Warmaster's eyes narrowed. The Hunter knew exactly what ran through the demon's mind. He'd caught the Warmaster off guard, and the Sage's taunt only made things worse. The huge Abiarazi couldn't back down now.

  A smile—clearly forced—wreathed the huge demon's face. "Of course I stand by my words." He turned to the Hunter. "But surely you, a Bucelarii, wouldn't want to waste your skill on a mere beast pit fighter. I wouldn't expect you to face off with a man like Gallidus."

  He shrugged. "You said 'none in this room could defeat him'. Well, here I am." He stood taller, meeting the Warmaster's eyes. "So, what do you say?"

  A sly smile touched the Sage's lips. "I'll wager the Hunter can best your man."

  Wheels clicked behind the Warmaster's eyes. He could cry "unfair"—after all, he knew the Hunter could only be killed with iron. But if he backed down, he would lose face in front of the Sage. Indeed, in front of his Masters of Agony. During their brief exchange, all conversation in the chamber had died, and all eyes locked on the three figures on the dais.

  The Hunter gestured to the pit fighter. "Your man Gallidus is twice my size, and we have seen his skill firsthand." He dropped his voice so only the two Abiarazi could hear. "Surely you aren't afraid of being the loser?"

  The barb sank home. The Warmaster drew himself up, his face reddening. "I am the Warmaster, greatest general of the Abiarazi horde! I have never suffered a defeat—not at the hand of my fellow, the Serenii, or the gods themselves. I fear nothing!"