HE WHO FIGHTS (Nathaniel Rane Book 1)

by Mike Morris

  "You made it back alive then," said the old woman. "And found a friend."

  "Only just," replied Rane, keeping his voice low. "This is Myri, she's another old... colleague of mine. She's going to help too."

  "Pleased, I'm sure," said Kaitlyn with a tilt of the head towards Myri. "And what of the creature?"

  Rane glanced at Myri before replying. "We found him as well. We fought... but he got away."

  "And?" said Kaitlyn, her voice a broken whisper.

  "He's coming here — but you should be safe as long as you stay inside. We'll stop him from coming any closer." Rane hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.

  Kaitlyn looked up, her eyes full of tears. "We're a good town, full of good people. We don't deserve this."

  "No one ever does," said Myri. "Life just doesn't give a shit."

  "Please save us," said Kaitlyn, gripping Rane's hands.

  "We'll do our best," replied Rane.

  The door opened, startling everyone. Three men came in and Rane realised things were only going to get worse.

  The sheriff from Eshtery, Jahn Mathew'son, stood next to the blonde bounty hunter that had escaped from Rane's house. Lurking behind them was Jeriah Miller'son's father, Samuel, with his big arms and shoulders as wide as any house from the pounding of all that corn.

  They obviously weren't expecting to find Rane inside. Shock and confusion flared across their faces as recognition dawned on them as well. Jahn did a double take and went for his gun, quickly followed by the bounty hunter drawing his sword. Even so, they weren't quicker on the draw than Rane. He had both his pistols out and aimed at them before they'd even got their weapons halfway clear. "You don't want to do that," he called out.

  His words froze everyone in the inn, all transfixed on what was happening.

  "Fucking murdering bastard demon," shouted Samuel, red-faced in fury. He still fumbled for his weapon, all sense gone.

  "I don't want to shoot you, Samuel. Please don't make me," said Rane.

  But the miller wasn't listening. "You killed my son, you piece of shit." He whipped his pistol out of its holster but Rane fired first. After what happened to Kara, he wasn't going to take any chances. The bullet struck the barrel of Samuel's pistol, sending it spinning from his hand.

  "I didn't mean your son to die, Sam. But he came for me with murder on his mind and got my wife killed in the process. Think that makes us more than even." Rane put the used weapon back in its holster. Better to have the hand free than clutching a useless gun. "Now all of you calm down before you get hurt."

  The bounty hunter had his sword free of its sheath but Myri had her musket cocked and aimed straight at his head. He got the message and let his hand drop.

  "Surprised to see you here, Jahn," said Rane.

  The old man rubbed his chin. "You didn't think we were just going to give up once we didn't find a body at the bottom of that gorge, did you?"

  "I kinda did, actually."

  "Everyone's wrong sometimes." Jahn glanced around the room at all the frightened faces. "What’s going on here?"

  "Just helping a few folks out," replied Rane.

  Jahn nodded at Myri. "She one of your Legionnaires too?"

  "Why don't you ask me?" snapped Myri, moving her aim from the bounty hunter to Jahn. "I can speak for myself."

  "No one's looking for trouble," said Rane to both Jahn and Myri. "Why don't you boys just turn around and head home."

  "I can't do that, I'm afraid." Jahn shrugged. "Come too far to find you. Followed you to Candra, and the mess you caused there, then to here. Surprised at how easy it was."

  "I've not been hiding," replied Rane. "But I'm also not going to give up just like that either. Remember — no reward's worth dying for."

  "I agree," said Jahn with a smile. "To be honest, I couldn't give a shit about rewards. I'll leave that to the kid here. Samuel's got revenge covered. I just care about justice and you've left too many dead bodies behind you for me to leave you be."

  "More people are going to die if that's the case," said Rane. He could feel Kibon eager as anything, niggling away at the back of his mind.

  "You try killing us, you piece of shit," roared Samuel. "See how you do against real men."

  "This isn't about us..." replied Rane but a woman screamed before he could say another word.

  14

  Marcus stood on the stairs, grinning, black sword in hand. "Am I interrupting?"

  Rane drew his remaining loaded pistol and fired in one motion. Marcus was twenty yards away and impossible to miss. And yet Marcus twitched his body and the bullet struck the wall behind him. Myri fired her musket an instant later but she might as well have been shooting at thin air.

  The inn erupted into chaos as the shots galvanised everyone into action. Screams filled the air as people ran for the door, pushing Rane and Myri this way and that. Marcus laughed and leaped into the chaos. His sword flashed left and right as he carved people down, hacking limbs and chopping heads. Rane tried to force his way to the creature but the tide of bodies surged in the other direction and he could only watch in horror as more people fell beneath Marcus's blade.

  "What the fuck is that?" screamed Jahn as he watched wide-eyed and helpless. The bounty hunter dragged Samuel towards the exit, unwilling to face the tainted man before him.

  Bryan, armed with a meat clever, took a wild swing at Marcus and got backhanded for the trouble, without the tainted man even looking in his direction. The barman flew into a table, smashing glass, spilling tankards and knocking burning logs from the hearth.

  Rane spotted Kaitlyn, as petrified as could be, hiding with a family behind an upturned table. Next to her was another man brandishing a table leg like a club, with a little girl holding onto him, screaming for all she was worth. Another woman was trying to crawl to safety, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.

  "Jahn!" shouted Rane. "Help get these people out of here. They'll die if they stay."

  "What about the demon?" Jahn had his pistol drawn but looked like he had no idea what to do with it.

  At the other end of the bar, Marcus's sword arced up and down, twisting from one killing stroke to another.

  "Leave him to us," replied Rane, wishing there was some other way.

  The sheriff, still with his eyes locked on Marcus, moved. He grabbed the people nearest him and pushed them towards the door.

  Finally space cleared and Rane and Myri threw themselves into battle. Rane ran in with his short sword while Myri propelled herself off a table and jumped high, knives in each hand, stabbing down.

  Sparks flew off as steel met steel as Marcus countered Rane's strike before twisting around to bring the black blade up to stop Myri's blows. He kicked out as he did so, catching Rane in the side of the head, sending him reeling. His vision wavered, forcing him to lash out wildly just to try and keep Marcus at bay. Marcus dipped down below the swing, drove an elbow up into Rane's stomach, knocking the wind from his lungs. Marcus followed up by smashing his forehead into Rane's face. He stumbled back, water filling his eyes, blood streaming from his nose. He stumbled over a stool and knocked into a table as Myri launched another assault on Marcus, her sword already in her hand.

  She hammered her sword down on Marcus again and again, giving him no respite as he defended herself. Her grey blade crashed against his black sword as her face contorted in rage. She was fast and strong, but Marcus matched her every move. She kicked out but he blocked it with a knee, then stamped down on her foot in return. He brought his blade round, sliced into her ribs before Myri could even try to block. She went down with a cry. Smoke filled the room as flames crept from the hearth into the main room, making it hard for Rane to see if she was even alive. The smell of burning flesh added to the horror as the fire found its way to nearby corpses.

  Without even knowing he'd done it, Rane drew Kibon from its scabbard, and with the short blade in his other hand, leaped to Myri's aid. He attacked in a flurry, striking out at every part of Marcus's body,
trying to catch him off-guard. But no matter what Rane tried, Marcus's black blade was there to stop him. The man moved at impossible speeds with a look of sheer joy on his face, while Rane put everything he had into each strike. He kicked out, hoping to break Marcus's knee but stamped down on nothing but floorboard. Marcus soared into the air, spinning into a roundhouse kick of his own. Rane was too slow, too human, to avoid it and Marcus's boot thundered into his temple.

  The room spun as Rane went down onto one knee. Only the Gods knew how much more of this punishment he could take. He gripped Kibon, needing its magic to keep him on his feet as Marcus loomed, sword overhead, ready to strike down and separate Rane's head from his shoulders.

  Someone screamed from the left and Marcus turned just as Myri threw herself into the fray once more. The sight of her back on her feet gave Rane renewed strength. He pushed himself back onto his feet and together they cut and thrust relentlessly, desperately seeking an opening.

  Marcus just pulled his head back in time as Rane's sword whistled past, nicking his cheek. A thin line of blood appeared on his white skin, as he skipped back from a blow from Myri, batting it away with the edge of his own sword, his smile all of a sudden not quite so certain. He retreated under their attacks, stepping back towards the fire and, for a moment, Rane thought they had him as he thrust with his short sword and took a chunk of flesh off with his old friend.

  Marcus jumped up over another sword strike and kicked out with both feet at Myri, knocking her into the flames. He spun around and pressed his advantage once more with Rane, moving so fast that Rane struggled to stop his attacks even with two swords. Slivers of pain shot through him as Marcus's sword found its way through his guard, nicking him here and there.

  Smoke burned his throat and stung his eyes as Rane battled for his life. Marcus chopped down with his sword and Rane just managed to block it with both of his weapons crossed. Marcus pushed down with all his incredible strength, forcing Rane down onto his knees. The black blade inched closer as Rane's arms shook with effort.

  Then Myri reappeared out of the smoke. Blood streamed from the side of her head but that didn't stop her as she ran up behind Marcus and hacked down with her sword. The blade sliced through Marcus from shoulder to waist. He screamed in pain, dropping his own weapon. Only the Gods knew how he was still alive but Rane wasn't going to waste the opportunity so he stabbed his short sword through the demon's leg. Marcus staggered and fell to his knees. Rane went to strike with Kibon but Myri grabbed his wrist, stopping him. She twisted her blade in Marcus and the demon howled. Blood spurted everywhere as she pushed the sword down towards his heart. The demon seized her arm with both hands, trying to stop the blade's movement, but Rane could see Marcus's strength failing.

  Myri pressed her weight down on her sword so her face was almost touching Marcus's. "Die, you bastard!" she said and pushed one final time.

  But Marcus held her blade firmly in his hands. He snarled into Myri's face as he pushed back. Rane knelt, transfixed, as Myri's sword began to edge out of Marcus. How could he not be dead?

  Kibon screamed at Rane to strike lest the moment be lost but it was as if Marcus could read his mind. The tainted man's head snapped towards him and he punched Rane in the face, knocking him back. Flames nipped at his clothes as he skidded along the floor, crashing into a table. He flipped himself back on his feet as Marcus dragged Myri's sword from his body and reached for his own sword once more.

  "No!" screamed Rane as a beam fell smoking from the ceiling, blocking his way in a shower of sparks. "Myri!" The fire roared up in front of him but Rane threw himself through without hesitation. He had to get to Myri before Marcus killed her.

  Rane rolled as he hit the ground and sprung to his feet, Kibon ready. He spun around, looking for his enemy, but only smoke and fire filled the air. There was no sign of Marcus.

  Myri lay unconscious on the floor, her sword by her side. Rane rushed over, picked her up in her arms, and noticed the bloody stump at the end of her arm. Her right hand, still clutching her sword, had been cut from her. It was a wound not even the sword's magic would heal. Already she'd lost a lot of blood.

  Rane sheathed Kibon and dragged Myri through the flames, coughing on the black smoke. He had to get her out before it was too late.

  Ten yards from the door, a hand grabbed his shoulder and Rane's heart lurched. He spun around to find Jahn behind him. "Let me help you," said the sheriff.

  They carried Myri outside and clear of the inn. Everyone was gathered by the fountain in the centre of the square but they made space for Myri.

  "I need something to bandage her arm," called out Rane.

  Kaitlyn strode forward, all covered in soot and dirt and ripped a length of material from her dress. "Take this."

  Rane tied it around Myri's forearm, just above the wrist, to stop the flow of blood to the wound. But as he worked, more wounds were opening up across her face. Old wounds long forgotten. Wounds her sword had once healed. By the Gods, her sword.

  "Jahn, look after," said Rane. "I have to go back inside."

  The sheriff looked over his shoulder at the inn, now fully ablaze. "You won't last two minutes — whatever you need in there is gone."

  "If I'm going to save her life, I have no choice." Rane removed coat and his holsters and belt. He didn't need anything on him that could suddenly blow up — it would be bad enough in the inn without carrying gunpowder. He jumped into the fountain and soaked himself in its stagnant water, and then before he could worry about it anymore, he sprinted back to the Hare and Hound. Rane shouldered his way through the wall of fire that blocked the door, covering his face with his arm. The heat inside knocked him back a step or two but he forced himself on, ignoring the sensation of searing skin. Smoke filled his lungs and stung his eyes. It was like entering the underworld, with Heras waiting somewhere in the furnace. Every sane part of him told him to give up but he had to find Myri's sword. She'd die without it.

  Fire spat across his back and shoulders, licking his scalp, and Rane slapped the flames down before his whole body caught alight. A coughing fit doubled him over and he crouched down looking for some cleaner air, only to find every mouthful scorched his throat and lungs.

  He seized Kibon's hilt, and another burst of magic took some of the sting away but Jahn was right, he wasn't going to last much longer in there. All around him, the structure complained as the fire ate away at the floor and walls. A chunk of ceiling crashed down, dragging with it part of the upper wall. Fresh air raced in through the gap, urging the flames ever higher.

  Rane scrambled on, coughing and spluttering, his eyes watering and his skin burning but it was hopeless. How was he supposed to find Myri's sword in all the chaos? Every second without her blade would cause another wound to open, more blood to leak from her. How much time did he have? For her and himself?

  He reached for Kibon again but felt no comfort from his sword.

  More ceiling came down and he only just managed to avoid getting crushed. But, as he picked himself up, he spotted her sword sticking out from under a fallen beam, Myri's hand still attached. He tried to pull the sword free but the weapon was trapped.

  Rane uttered a prayer to all the Gods as he squatted down and hooked his fingers underneath the beam. His hands protested as the red-hot timber made light work of his hands. The flames danced along the wood and kissed his face as he tried to lift the beam. Whatever moisture had been in his clothes was long gone and they caught alight. Rane screamed with the pain and the effort as he strained every muscle, but slowly the beam moved. He shuffled his feet to get under it better and then rolled it from his arms. It clattered to one side and Myri's sword was free.

  Rane didn't waste another second. Leaving her hand to the fire, he snatched the weapon up. The sword was red-hot, burning him more, but he didn’t care. He staggered back to the doorway. Flames belched from the bar as bottles of spirits exploded but there was no time to find another way. He knew he was on fire. But he knew Myri was dying.
He'd save her first, then worry about himself.

  He all but fell through the doorway and the cold air hurt his skin as much as the fire had. Someone screamed and he couldn't blame them but all he cared about was getting to Myri.

  "Hold her," he ordered Jahn as he grabbed her wounded arm.

  "What are you..." said Jahn but Rane ignored him and pressed the hot metal of her sword against her skin. The flesh sizzled as the blade touched it. The smell of burnt meat filled the air but Rane had no idea if it was Myri's flesh or his own that stunk so much. Myri's eyes bulged open and she screamed as the heat closed the wound. She tried to pull her arm away but Rane held it in place with his other hand. Tremors shook her body and her feet kicked against the ground, but Jahn held her firm and Rane kept the hot metal on her arm until he was sure the wound was sealed shut. Only then did he remove the sword and Myri went limp once more as unconsciousness saved her from the pain.

  Rane stood up, still clutching her sword and walked over to the fountain. He thrust it into the water and watched it sizzle as it cooled. Pain shot through his own hand and up his arm, all red and blistered, skin hanging off it like melted wax on a candle.

  Once her sword was cool again, he returned to Myri and wrapped her good hand around its hilt. She trembled as the magic did it work but it wasn't enough to wake her and Rane thanked the Gods for that small mercy.

  Kaitlyn came over and Rane could see the shock and revulsion in her eyes as she took in his ravaged skin. "Are you okay?"

  Rane slowly reached over his shoulder and pulled Kibon off his back. He cradled the sheathed sword in his arms and held tightly onto the hilt with both hands. The magic was no more than a tingle but he knew it was starting to do its work. He breathed in, feeling the cool night air sooth his tender throat. "I will be."

  "You saved us all," said Kaitlyn.

  "The demon got away again," said Rane as he watched the inn burn. The survivors had formed a line passing buckets of water from the fountain to throw over the flames to stop them spreading to other buildings.