The Sword Lord

by Robert Leader

  Now she could only wait and struggle to contain her bitter disappointment. The audience hall could only contain one duel at a time, but perhaps her chance would come after Kananda’s battle was decided. Then she could call on Raven to settle her own account for Lorin.

  In the meantime, she had to remember that this was not just a personal vendetta. She motioned Blair to take up a position on the opposite side of the corridor so that they had this doorway covered from both sides. Through the doorway, half hidden by columns, she could see the doorway where Kananda had made his entrance on the far side of the hall. There was no movement there but she trusted that Kyle was in position with a lazer in his hand.

  Her field of vision through the doorway covered only the back end of the hall, behind the throne and the dais. She could not see what was taking place on and before the dais, but the furious clash of swords told her that the duel had commenced.

  Thorn had decided upon a swift, savage onslaught to hack open his opponent’s defence and then a neat groin thrust to finish. Kananda wore no body armour and a skewering through the groin was an agonizing way to die. That, Thorn was confident, would teach this upstart challenger the lesson he deserved. He charged with blade whirling and the ferocity of his attack carried Kananda back across the room.

  Kananda deliberately gave ground. He knew the Gheddans prided themselves upon their sword skill and he sought to lure his enemy into over-confidence. Thorn’s blade crashed against his own in a series of lightning blows which it seemed that Kananda was barely able to match. The Gheddan had superb wrist and arm control and the speed of his sword was like a blur of light. The ring of steel upon steel was echoed in the vast, domed chamber above their heads and was carried outwards over the shocked city. For several terrible minutes, Kananda seemed to reel before Thorn’s assault and then his blade was struck aside. Thorn drew back and lunged with all his strength. In that second, Kananda was moving like an uncoiling cobra. His body shifted sideways to let Thorn’s sword-point dart harmlessly past the outside of his hip and, like the cobra’s strike, his own sword was flashing at Thorn’s throat. Thorn knew that he had been tricked and instinctively let his body follow through, diving down onto his knees and rolling his body forward. He avoided death by a hairsbreadth, continued rolling clear and scrambled quickly to his feet.

  His tumble had taken him close to Jahan and the two princes. Three hands automatically reached for their swords and three hand-lazers swung to hold them in check.

  “Jahan! Uncles!” Kananda called sharply. “Do not interfere. This battle is mine.”

  Jahan nodded slowly and pushed back his sword. Sanjay and Devan did the same. They understood the principles of gladiatorial combat.

  Thorn was breathing heavily now and treating Kananda with caution and a new found respect. They circled each other warily, blades weaving patterns of temptation and challenge.

  On the dais, Raven was again frowning slightly. This was going to take a little longer than he had anticipated and he too was sensing the need for caution. There was also a warning thought in his mind. This challenger was Hindu, another prince of this city, but he had issued his challenge in the Alphan tongue. He could only have learned that from an Alphan, which meant that he had Alphan friends. Perhaps they were close.

  Garl and Taron were closely watching the sword fight and the small knot of Karakhoran rulers. So Raven half turned to keep watch on the rear of the audience hall where Kananda had made his unexpected entry. He silently willed Thorn to make haste.

  Thorn and Kananda sprang together, each attacking the other and this time Kananda gave no ground. They met in a storm of blows and a deafening exchange of steel striking steel. The battle raged too fast for any human eye to count the sword strokes and with a fury that the elements could not surpass. Thorn knew now that he was fighting for his life, while Kananda fought with a lust for vengeance that knew no mercy. Namita had been little more than a child and the thought of her helpless, virginal body being crudely violated by the fiend before him inflamed Kananda to the point of madness. He was no longer planning strategy or false lures, but was simply trusting to the justice of his cause and the gods and striving with every fibre of his being to destroy this demon from another world.

  Thorn was tiring. His blade was as sharp but his mind was losing its edge. He was turning Kananda’s blows but being forced back, more and more on the defensive. He made a sudden effort to turn the tide, and then stepped back and reached quickly to draw the boot knife that most Gheddans carried. His left hand flipped it upward in a fast, underhand throw. Kananda saw the second blur of steel from the corner of his eye and twisted on one heel, contracting the muscles of his stomach. The knife blade scored a thin red cut across the taut skin. They were both off balance but Kananda recovered first. Thorn was poised for another sword slash, but Kananda risked all on a direct lunge. His blade pierced Thorn’s throat just below the jaw, half severing the windpipe and emerging from the back of the blue neck. Thorn’s blow faltered and dropped as he hung, choking and dying, and Kananda was fascinated to see that the blue god’s blood was a rich, dark red.

  Time froze. The Gheddan aura of god-like invincibility had been destroyed and for most of those watching it took several seconds for this vital fact to sink into their combined consciousness. Kananda had slain a god. The blue gods could die. Raven knew instinctively that only lazers could save them now, for as Thorn slumped and slipped limply from Kananda’s blade, the princes Devan and Sanjay were already drawing their swords.

  “Burn them all!” Raven ordered sharply, but as he swung his lazer toward Kananda, several things happened simultaneously.

  Jahan hurled himself sideways, crashing bodily into the king and the three princes and knocking them all sprawling to the floor. As he did so, he shouted lustily for his archers. Bowmen appeared instantly in the doorway behind him, firing a swift but ragged flight of arrows before ducking back into the shelter of the corridor. The shafts were too hastily fired for any deliberate aim but they distracted Garl and Taron from their intended targets and drew the first bolts from their lazers. One of the ornate, half open doors was split from top to bottom, the white beam bursting it into flame and killing the two archers who sheltered behind it. The second beam lanced down the corridor and exploded huge chunks of masonry from the wall.

  Zela had rushed into the room, lazer holstered, sword in hand, distracting Raven from Kananda as she shouted his name. There was a challenge on her lips but Raven had no way of knowing and no time to listen. He registered only a silver suit and golden hair and on the other side of the hall another silver flash as Kyle moved to get a lazer shot through the columns. Raven leveled his lazer at Zela and fired.

  Blair had been caught unaware by his commander’s unexpected action, but the tall Alphan’s reaction was fast and instinctive. He charged after her, shouting her name. His shoulder knocked her to one side as he protected her with his own body. He fired at Raven but took the full blast of Raven’s lazer beam in his chest. He spun into Zela again and this time the dead weight of his body pushed her off balance and pinned her to the floor. His own shot had missed and demolished one of the tall columns. Splinters of stone gashed Raven’s face and he cursed and backed up to take cover behind the throne.

  Garl and Taron had realized that the greater danger was behind them. They turned and crouched at the edge of the dais, exchanging fire with Kyle at the rear of the hall. From this angle, the forest of columns blocked off Kyle’s position and the crisscross of white energy beams exploded repeatedly against the stonework. In a matter of seconds, half the columns were shattered and the great dome above them was in danger of collapse. The beam flashes weakened and Kyle retreated to fit a new fuel pack.

  The two Gheddans started to make a quick changeover of fuel packs for their own depleted weapons, but now they faced a five-sword attack from behind. As soon as the lazers had stopped firing, Jahan and the princes had scrambled to their feet and, led by Kananda, they fell upon the neare
st two of their enemies. Garl and Taron barely had time to draw blades and defend themselves.

  The fight would have been swiftly over if Raven had not had the forethought to reserve some of his lazer power. The Sword Lord was not a man to let a situation arise where all of his force could be caught changing fuel packs at the same moment. Because his own men were in the way, he could not get a direct shot at Kananda or Jahan, whom he recognized as the greatest dangers, but he fired past Taron’s shoulder. The prince Sanjay was flung out of the fray with his left arm shriveled and scorched.

  “This way,” Raven ordered. And the three Gheddans backed up quickly to the side doorway through which Zela and Blair had entered. Raven was first through the door and Gujar sprang directly into his path. The young lord had his sword in hand, but they had collided chest to chest and neither could bring a weapon into play. Raven ducked his head and head-butted the young Hindu full in the face with all his strength. Gujar reeled back out of the way. There were more warriors behind him but Raven fired a last bolt from his lazer and cut a white path through.

  The three Gheddans raced down the corridor, fitting the new fuel packs to their lazers as they ran.

  Zela lay crushed and shocked under Blair’s body. While the lazer battle raged above, her she was unable to move, but once the exchange ceased she struggled clear and onto her knees. There she stared in horror at Blair’s blackened chest with its deep, cauterized burn-hole and at his dead white face. She was stunned with guilt and remorse. Blair had loved her, she realized that now with dreadful clarity, and wondered how she could have been so blind to it before. Blair had loved her and he had given his life for her. And it was her own blind folly that had caused his sacrifice.

  She wanted to weep, but then Kyle was beside her, helping her up. She became aware of the Gheddans retreating through the doorway and Kananda and his uncles pressing close behind them. She had lost her sword, but now she drew her lazer and snatched up the lazer Blair had dropped with her free hand. She knew that it would take only seconds for the Gheddans to reload and, shouting at Kananda to give her passage, she ran in pursuit with Kyle at her side.

  Since Namita had been killed, Maryam had been closeted with her mother, both of them trying to comfort and console the distraught queen, Kamali. All three of them had at last fallen fitfully into sleep, Kamali prone on her bed, Maryam and her mother on chairs close beside her, when the dread booming of the gong had again roused them into wakefulness. Maryam sat bolt upright, her body stiffening with apprehension. She started to rise but then the two older women pulled her back to her chair and restrained her. They huddled together in fear and uncertainty, the long wait and the tension fraying at their nerves and shriveling their very souls. Then suddenly the night was split asunder by the violence of sword blades, fearsome thunderclaps of sound, the crash of falling masonry, screams, shrieks, shouts and a pandemonium of running movement. It was as though all the demons, minions and monsters of hell itself had been let loose upon the cowering palace.

  Maryam shrank within herself, but as the nightmare continued, the agony of not knowing swelled into a driving force more terrible than mere mortal fear. She pushed herself up again, tearing herself free from the clutching hands of her mother and aunt, she ran for the door. Ignoring their wailing cries and pleas, she slammed the door behind her and then ran through the corridors toward the heart of the disturbance.

  Raven knew that his game in Karakhor was up. There were Alphans behind them, matching the Gheddan lazer-power, and behind the Alphans were the old war-dog’s archers and a pack of blood-thirsting swordsman. All he could do now was to make a fighting retreat out of the palace and the city and back to his ship. Fortunately the frequent twists and turns of the passageways enabled them to stay ahead of any direct line of fire from the pursuing lazer bolts, although both Taron and Garl had by now collected their own minor injuries from the flying fragments of disintegrating stone.

  Raven led the way around another corner at the junction of two corridors and ran headlong into Maryam.

  She stumbled to a halt, staring at his bloodied face and his torn and dust-smeared uniform. Her mind was full of confusion but her heart was bursting with fear, anguish, and most of all, love. She had been running blindly, without any clear intention, but suddenly she knew why she had been running and who she had been seeking. She sobbed his name and threw herself desperately into his arms.

  Raven’s first instinct was to throw her aside. But she was a princess of the royal house and might yet prove a useful card to play as a hostage. He tightened his free arm around her waist and hurried her along beside him as he left the palace.

  Maryam went without protest. She flung one hasty glance back over her shoulder and saw a glimpse of two unfamiliar silver figures with golden hair and they were using more of the white fire weapons. There were more gods of a different kind! She was caught up in a battle of the gods! But her god—Raven—still wanted her with him! Raven loved her and would not leave her behind.

  Her head whirled with that exquisite thought and emotion overwhelmed her. She ran with him willingly, forgetting all of her previous doubts, ready to love him and serve him with undying devotion.

  They raced through the darkened streets through the gates in the city wall and out onto the bridge. The Solar Cruiser waited for them on the starlit plains but now there was too much open ground without cover and Raven knew they would be cut down before they could reach it. He stopped on the far side of the bridge, ordering his two companions to take cover and give fire. At the same time he dropped down on his belly, pulling Maryam face down onto the dirt road beside him.

  Lazer bolts flashed toward them from the shadows of the gateway. The deadly beams were returned and, for a few moments, the ancient stone archways that spanned the Mahanadi were brilliantly illuminated in streaks of white fire. There was a pause in the display and a flight of arrows sailed out from the city walls.

  Raven had his communicator to his lips. He said urgently: “Landis, Caid, destroy the bridge. Use precision targeting. We are uncomfortably close.”

  The answer came immediately. “Caid here, commander. Targeting the bridge. On the count of ten.”

  They had ten seconds. Raven signaled to Garl and Taron to withdraw, but they had heard the exchange and needed no urging. Raven hauled on Maryam’s shoulder as he wriggled backwards and obediently she kept pace with him.

  From the nose of the Solar Cruiser, a single energy beam lanced downward across the plain. Raven and Maryam felt its searing heat as it passed above their heads, scorching their hair and blistering the skin on the backs of their necks and then it struck dead centre of the bridge. In an almighty crack of sound and a violent sunburst of white flame, the bridge disappeared, the archways melted or vaporized. Only at the edges of the impact was there any stonework left to erupt and scatter. The water foamed and boiled in a roaring hiss of steam and terrifying waves surged upstream and downstream along the tortured waters of the Mahanadi.

  Raven rose to his feet and smiled briefly at the frustration his enemies must be feeling on the city bank. Any immediate pursuit was now cut off and it would take time for any Alphan or Hindu to pluck up the courage to swim the river or to find and launch a boat. He motioned to his companions and they continued their interrupted run toward the spaceship, moving at a fast trot to take them quickly out of the range of any stray arrows or hand-held lazers.

  Maryam ran with them. She did not know what was happening or why. Perhaps the world as she knew it was ending or had already ended? Perhaps the gods were shaping a new universe? Perhaps the stars would fall and the Earth would die? It was all beyond Maryam’s comprehension. She only knew that she was running with Raven, that Raven wanted her and that she wanted to be with him. She was the chosen of the god. Her place was at his side.

  They reached the spaceship and without pause Garl and Taron scrambled up the steel rungs of the access ladder. Raven stopped to cover them, his alert gaze sweeping the surrounding plain for
any unexpected source of attack. Maryam dashed past him and nimbly ascended the ladder behind the two Gheddans. Raven shouted at her to come down.

  Maryam did not understand him. She assumed that he was urging her to go faster and so she quickened her speed. Raven cursed and began to climb rapidly after her but, with the agility of a frightened monkey, she stayed out of his reach.

  Taron vanished into the airlock. Garl hesitated, half in the airlock, one foot still on the ladder, looking down. Then he swung back and raised one booted foot, ready to kick Maryam in the face and boot her clear of the ladder when she reached his level.

  Maryam was unaware of what was happening. Only Raven understood what Garl intended.

  Images flashed through Raven’s mind; images of their lovemaking, of her almost childish eagerness to please him, memories of the love and trust and vulnerability he had seen in her behaviour and in her eyes.

  He had no more need of her. He had not intended to bring her this far. But a fall from this height would kill her and suddenly he could not permit her to be thrown from the ladder in cold blood.

  “No, Garl,” he ordered harshly. “Let her in.”

  Garl shrugged and entered the airlock. Maryam followed him and Raven joined them. Maryam was looking all around her, her eyes filled with curiosity and wonder. She peered through the open doorway that led into the heart of the ship, took a tentative step toward it, and then looked back for Raven’s approval. Raven was equally aware of Garl and Taron watching him with questioning faces.

  Raven knew that he could make her understand that he wanted her to leave. He could push her back down the ladder. But he could not explain to her the danger she would be in if she did not move well clear of the ship’s exhaust thrust. She would probably stand there with that stupid look on her face and wait to be incinerated.