Darkblade Seeker: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (Hero of Darkness Book 4)

by Andy Peloquin

  "Come, Hailen." He wrapped a cloak around the boy—careful to hide his hands—and lifted him. "What say we get you some food to eat?"

  The boy shook his head. "I-I'm not hungry anymore." He buried his head in the Hunter's chest. "I just want to sleep."

  "Of course." Anger boiled in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to storm the Warmaster's temple, carve through the ranks of torturers, and hack the bastard demon to pieces. But that would only get him killed. He needed to be smart. For Hailen's sake.

  He turned to the Sage. "You say the Warmaster made a mistake in his attempt on my life, but I say he made two: he put Hailen's life in danger. For that, he dies slow."

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  The Sage turned to the nearest Elivasti. "Go, alert the elders. The Elivasti march to war on the Masters of Agony."

  With a salute, the masked man rushed from the garden.

  "Is that wise?" The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "I thought your intention was to attempt a more precise strike, not all-out battle."

  The Sage gave a dismissive wave. "The time for subterfuge has come to an end. In his attempt to kill you, the Warmaster has overextended his position. My loyal Elivasti will convince the rest that he tried to strike at me, and they will have no choice but to respond to my call to arms." A vicious smile twisted his lips. "And, with the Warmaster focused on defending from a frontal assault, we will have an opening to sneak attack from behind. My Elivasti will clear the way, but yours must be the hand to eliminate the Warmaster. A strike force will cross the bridge—led by you, as was always the intention. The only change is that we move tonight instead of tomorrow."

  "Won't he be expecting that?"

  The Sage inclined his head. "Perhaps, but he won't have enough men to spare. He will be too concerned with the army storming his front door. His Masters of Agony are no match for my Elivasti."

  The Hunter contemplated the plan. The chaos of battle would provide cover to not only slip into the Warmaster's temple to eliminate him—and recover Soulhunger, of course—but likely distraction enough to deal with the Sage as well.

  "A sound plan. Make your preparations. The Warmaster dies tonight," he said, his voice a low growl. "But first I will see to the boy's safety."

  "Let my men take care of him. He will be safe in your rooms."

  "No." The Hunter shook his head. "If anything goes wrong, that is the first place the Warmaster will look. I will leave him safely locked in the enclosure, under the guard of his own."

  "But we must act now!" The demon's voice turned plaintive. "The Warmaster is sitting in his temple, waiting to hear if his attempt on your life succeeded. Now is the time to strike!"

  The Hunter turned on him. "Then prepare your Elivasti for war. But I will do nothing until I am sure the boy is safe." He loomed over the Sage. "Is that understood?"

  The Sage stared up at him, unflinching. "And if I say all is in readiness to storm the Warmaster's temple? You will lead the attack?"

  The Hunter considered it. He could use an army of iron-wielding soldiers behind him when he faced the Warmaster. "I will."

  "Excellent!" The Sage rubbed his hands together. "When you have finished seeing to the boy, come to my chambers. I will have an army ready for you."

  The Hunter nodded. "Two hours." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "It'll give me enough time to eliminate the other threat in the city below."

  The Sage's eyes widened. "You have found the traitors?"

  "I believe so. I must confirm my suspicions, but I will bring their names." He gave the demon a vicious smile. "Or their heads."

  A wicked gleam filled the Sage's midnight eyes. "Excellent." He clapped the Hunter's back. "Do what must be done, Hunter. Tonight, everything changes."

  * * *

  Controlled chaos gripped the city built in the shadow of Kara-ket. Figures in black and white robes and masks clogged the streets. The sound of shouted orders and the tromp, tromp of booted feet echoed all around. War had come to Shana Laal, and the Elivasti were mobilizing.

  The Hunter strode through the madness, his steps leading toward the walled enclosure. He kept his pace unhurried, but his eyes darted around in search of watchers. He found no spying eyes.

  He darted out of the path of a squad of marching Elivasti and ducked into a narrow alley. If anyone had been watching him, this would give him the perfect chance to give them the slip.

  He had no intention of leaving Hailen in the enclosure, guarded by the Sage's men. There was only one place on this mountain he believed the boy could be safe.

  The Hunter grunted and shifted Hailen in his arms. The boy had gained weight since arriving in Kara-ket—the Elivasti had fed him a bit too well. Hailen clung to his neck, face pressed in his chest. He hadn't said a word since the garden. The Hunter couldn't delay—he had to get Hailen to safety before the madness overtook him.

  Master Belros' smithy was dark and silent. He glanced in both directions and, finding the street empty, darted across and into the alleyway. Setting Hailen down, he knelt and knocked on the wooden cellar door.

  Please let him be here!

  Relief surged within him as the door opened to reveal the heavy face of Master Belros.

  The smith's eyes widened. "What are you doing here?"

  "I need to speak to Master Eldor. Now."

  After a moment of hesitation, Master Belros ushered him inside and closed the door behind him. The men in the cellar—Master Eldor, three white-haired Elivasti, Dasim, and two younger men—leapt to their feet and reached for weapons.

  "Hunter?" The tension in Master Eldor's expression relaxed, and he motioned for his comrades to lower their weapons. "What brings you—?" His voice trailed off as Hailen squirmed free of the cloak. "Ahh."

  The Hunter set Hailen on a nearby barrel. Master Eldor strode to stand in front of the boy. "Hullo, lad."

  Hailen stared up at the old Elivasti with dull, unseeing eyes. His gaze had grown distant and lost focus, as it had more and more often recently.

  "The Sage is preparing to storm the Warmaster's temple, and I'll be leading the charge. I can't leave him in the enclosure, not with the Sage's men guarding him."

  A deep furrow appeared in Master Eldor's brow. "But if he stays here, the Irrsinnon will take him."

  "I don't know else what to do!" The Hunter threw up his hands. "If I'm to do what needs to done, I need to know the Sage can't get at him. You're the only one I can trust to protect him."

  "We have to take him back within the wall." Master Eldor's expression hardened.

  "I have an idea." Master Belros stepped forward. "I know the men guarding the gate tonight. Brave, strong warriors. Eager for battle, both of them. I'm willing to bet I could persuade them to let us fossils take over so they can join in the action."

  "They would abandon their posts like that?"

  "Not abandon." Master Eldor shook his head. "A changing of the watch, nothing more." He looked at Master Belros and the others. "What say you? Will you stand guard with me? Protect not just this boy, but all Elivasti young? We may miss out on the glory of battle"—heavy sarcasm laced his words—"but we are ensuring the future of our race. Surely that is honorable enough for warriors like us."

  The white-haired Elivasti looked convinced, but three younger men looked unconvinced.

  "What of our plans to strike against the Sage?" Dasim asked. "In the chaos of battle, surely we could create the perfect opportunity for the Hunter to make his move."

  Master Eldor's frown deepened, but Master Belros spoke first. "The five of us are enough to hold the gate. Dasim speaks the truth. He could help the Hunter to find an opening."

  The Hunter nodded. "The Sage is directing a frontal assault on the Warmaster's temple, but he is sending me with a strike force across the bridge. Dasim and the others could station themselves close to the Sage for when I return."

  Master Eldor stroked his chin.

  "We must, Master Eldor," Dasim insisted. "We will not have a chance like this again.
"

  After a moment, Master Eldor relented. "Very well. All the years we've spent preparing for this moment, we would be foolish to waste it."

  Eagerness shone in the eyes of the younger Elivasti. They drew swords from the rack and slipped them into sheaths hidden beneath their robes.

  Master Eldor clasped Dasim's forearm. "For the future of the Elivasti, Dasim."

  Dasim returned the grip. "We do what must be done."

  * * *

  The Hunter swallowed a lump in his throat as he stared down at the sleeping figure of Hailen. So fragile and delicate, yet with such strength of will. I will return for you, Hailen.

  Master Eldor stood outside the small hut, staring at the Dolmenrath at the far side of the enclosure with a faraway look in his eyes. He started as the Hunter pulled the door closed behind him.

  "He sleeps?"

  The Hunter nodded. "If all goes to plan, he will wake to a brighter, safer tomorrow."

  Master Eldor placed a hand on his shoulder. "I've seen what you can do, lad. If there's anyone who can see this through, it's you."

  The words sent a rush of warmth through the Hunter. "For his sake, I will do it or die trying."

  Master Eldor squeezed. "For all our sakes. Do this, and the Elivasti will owe you a debt we will never be able to repay."

  The Hunter cast a glance at the large two-story home across the street. Scores of violet-eyed children peered out at him. Master Eldor had gathered them all into the same house to keep an eye on them.

  "I'll be back as soon as I can."

  "Aye." He turned and clasped the Hunter's forearm. "Be safe, lad."

  With a nod, the Hunter strode out of the enclosure gate. He saluted Master Belros and the three white-haired Elivasti, who stood at attention, metal-shod staves held in guard position.

  Dasim and the two young Elivasti waited for him at the end of the street, black and white masks obscuring their features. They fell into step beside him without a word. The Hunter had nothing to say to them. They knew the stakes of their gamble as well as he. Either they would eliminate the demons or die in the attempt.

  * * *

  The Hunter paused at the top of the grand staircase. His fingers felt for the lines of raised flesh on his chest. One for every life Soulhunger claimed. Before the end of the night, his collection of scars would grow. One of them would mark the Warmaster's death, the other the Sage's. He would carry those blemishes with pride for the rest of his days.

  Masked Elivasti swirled past him, hurrying to and from the Sage's chambers. Four men guarded the double doors; they moved aside at his approach. Dasim and his comrades disappeared among them before the Hunter realized they were gone.

  The Sage looked up as he entered. A grim smile touched his lips. "Ah, you are just in time." He gave the Hunter a meaningful look. "I trust your business has been taken care of?"

  The Hunter drew a dagger. Crimson still stained the steel. "Resolved to satisfaction." He lowered his voice. "A half-dozen of them, with two Masters of Agony. They never saw me coming."

  The Sage stared at the bloodied blade, triumph in his eyes, and gripped the Hunter's arm. "I knew I could rely on you."

  The Hunter plastered a cold, hard smile on his face. The blood belonged to him, but the Sage wouldn't ever know the difference. So long as the demon believed he'd handled the traitors, he'd have no reason to continue searching. At least not while trying to wage a war against a fellow Abiarazi and an army of Masters of Agony easily thrice the size of his own. The Hunter would be back to deal with him before he had a chance to go looking and uncover the true conspiracy.

  "One problem down, one more to deal with." He thrust a chin at the Warmaster's temple. "All is prepared?"

  The Sage nodded. "Your strike force stands ready."

  The Hunter crossed his arms and studied more than a score of cloth-masked men clustered on the far side of the room. They stood with straight backs, squared shoulders, and not a sign of hesitation or fear in their violet eyes. This, then, was his army. He would have vengeance on the Warmaster. And if it meant fewer Elivasti to guard the Sage's back…

  The Sage pointed to the bridge. "By the time you cross the bridge, the door will stand unlocked. These are my finest Elivasti. They have orders to clear a path to the Warmaster, but it is up to you to finish the job." He thrust a piece of black cloth toward the Hunter. "Tie this on your right arm. It will signal to my men that you are an ally."

  The Hunter wrapped the fabric around his bicep. The cloth gripped his arm tightly without impeding his movement. "Let there be blood." He strode toward the balcony doors.

  "May the Destroyer grant you strength, Hunter!" the Sage's voice echoed after him.

  The darkness of the bridge hid the Hunter's sneer. He had little use for the gods or their strength. He needed only well-honed blades, his reflexes, and a chance to strike at the demons.

  Chapter Fifty

  The fires of fury drove the Hunter onward. For too long, the Hunter had held himself in check as he sought an opportunity to kill the Sage and the Warmaster. His inaction had placed Hailen in danger. Now the time for waiting had come to an end. The Abiarazi died tonight.

  He led the way across the stone bridge, avoiding the holes and crumbling sections. The Elivasti followed on his heels, silent, scentless figures carrying weapons that reeked of iron. He brought death to the Warmaster's followers; the men behind him would serve as an extension of his wrath.

  At the far end of the bridge, within the shadow of the twin temple, four men wearing the patterned white and black stood on guard. They leapt to their feet at the sight of the Hunter. Two gripped weapons and stepped forward, only to be brought down by the two behind them. By the time the Hunter reached the door to the temple, the Sage's men had stripped the Warmaster's loyalists of their weapons and rendered them unconscious. The two fell in with the Hunter's company as they passed.

  The secret door swung open to reveal a blood-spattered Elivasti. "This way."

  Two Elivasti entered ahead of the Hunter. The moment he stepped inside the temple, the voice in his head rose to a painful volume. The demon within was eager for blood. He would not fight its desires.

  Gritting his teeth, he directed his thoughts inward. You want death? You will have it, and in abundance, but only if we work together.

  The pounding faded to a manageable ache, a throbbing behind his eyes. Jaw muscles working, he followed the Elivasti through the corridors of the Warmaster's temple.

  Blood stained the images of war and chaos etched into the walls. The bodies depicted in the elegant Serenii carvings stared with marble eyes on the flesh and blood corpses littering the halls. Chaos and death screamed through the corridors as men shrieked, shouted, and cried out. The clash of steel on steel echoed in time with the Hunter's thundering heart. The thrill of the hunt, of blood, of death coursed through him, setting every nerve aflame. The tremor of excitement in his hands quietened the moment his fingers touched dagger and sword hilt.

  Cries of rage tore from dozens of throats as a band of red-robed Masters of Agony charged them, long steel swords held high. The Elivasti's tight formation shattered their cohesion, just as their shorter blades proved ineffective against the metal-tipped quarterstaves. The Hunter didn't slow as his comrades brought down the Masters with viciously effective strikes.

  He knelt over one of the fallen torturers and pressed a dagger against the man's throat. "Where is he?"

  The man stared up at him with dull eyes, blood trickling from a gaping wound in his forehead. With a snarl, the Hunter plunged the blade into his groin. The man's screams echoed off the walls, but he did not fall silent for long moments. When the Hunter stooped over the next fallen torturer, the man spoke without hesitation.

  "Where is who?"

  A vicious grin spread the Hunter's face. "The Warmaster. He and I have unfinished business."

  The man pointed upward. "In his chambers."

  The Hunter pressed the dagger into the soft flesh his ne
ck. "How many men does he have with him?"

  The Master of Agony's eyes widened, and he gave a frantic shake of his head. "I…I don't know. His Elivasti are…" His words cut off in a cry as the Hunter drove the blade into his chest.

  Dropping the body, the Hunter turned to the nearest Elivasti. "How many of your brothers still serve the Warmaster?"

  The violet eyes met his without hesitation. "A few dozen, perhaps. But most of those are engaged on the lower levels of the temple, commanding the Masters of Agony." Sorrow cast a shadow over his eyes—an Elivasti mourning the loss of comrades duped into serving the wrong master.

  The Hunter examined the men the Sage had sent with him. Close to three dozen masked Elivasti, each carrying the metal-tipped staves they favored. With a force this size, he had a chance of bringing down the Warmaster.

  "Let's go."

  A trio of Elivasti charged ahead, and the sounds of a scuffle reached the Hunter. His sword slid from its sheath with a whisper of steel as a score of Masters raced down the hall toward them, a shout of "For the Warmaster" on their lips.

  He leapt forward, closing the distance before the nearest two could react. A vicious swipe of his sword laid open their throats. Blood splattered his robes as the torturers slumped. Three more Masters charged him, and he ducked beneath their clumsy swipes. His sword bit into one's knee while his dagger took a second in the groin. He swung his sword and took the third in the throat. The three fell, their screams silenced a moment later by the Elivasti following on the Hunter's heels.

  The three advance scouts retreated from a wall of steel swords. Before the Hunter could leap to attack, Elivasti pushed past him and joined their companions.