Darkblade Slayer

by Andy Peloquin

  "Got any better ideas?" The Hunter cocked an eyebrow. "Unless you've got a Stone Guardian-slaying weapon hidden in your gear or some ancient magick up your sleeve, of course."

  Darillon's scowl deepened.

  "And ye think it will work, do ye?" Rassek asked. "Ye won't be gettin’ caught in the middle of things?"

  The Hunter shook his head. "It's the only shot we've got. The only chance the boy has of getting away in case things get hairy." He fixed the two men with a hard glare. "And no matter what happens, the boy has to be safe."

  "Understood." Rassek nodded. "We'll be followin’ yer lead."

  "Good," the Hunter said. "Then let's move."

  He felt the tension drain from his shoulders as he secured his pack on Elivast's back and climbed into his saddle. His plan involved a very good chance of him ending up dead, but it was the best way he could think to deal with Sir Danna and the others once and for all. It would get Hailen out of harm's way. In the end, that was the most important thing.

  "I'll bring up the rear," he told the mountaineers. "Just in case."

  Rassek nodded and took the lead, with Darillon and Evren forming a line behind him. The Hunter tugged on Ash's lead rope and kicked Elivast into a trot. He cast a glance over his shoulder as they rode from their campsite. Though he saw no sign of pursuit, he had little doubt Sir Danna and the others were somewhere behind him. How far? Now that was the question he'd pay a fortune to know the answer to.

  The day dawned cool, but the rising sun soon filled the mountain with warmth. Within an hour, the chill had left the Hunter's hands, and sweat trickled down his back. Hailen seemed fully alert and energized, taking in the mountains around him with childish wonder.

  The trail continued to rise at an incline, not too steep but steadily climbing the mountains. A noticeable edge of cold hung thick on the air, and white snow dappled the tips of the jagged peaks around them. The very stones of the mountains had begun to lighten from a dark grey to a muted reddish-brown. Bright sunlight set the slopes and cliffs around them glowing, painting the landscape with an almost ethereal brush.

  The mountaineers, Evren, and Hailen seemed to struggle with the thinner air up this high, but the Hunter barely noticed the difference. After all the time he'd spent in Kara-ket, his body adapted to the altitude without difficulty.

  Oddly enough, plant life still flourished this high in the mountains. Slow-growing ironwood trees filled the air with the sweet fragrance of their yellow-centered white flowers, while cushion plants, moss, and algae covered the rocky faces with a vivid layer of green. Here and there, patches of blue mountain irises and yellow Wolf’s bane flowers provided a relief from the expanse of dull red rock.

  A spot of bright color high on the cliff walls drew the Hunter’s eye. He squinted in an effort to make out the details of the small, mushroom-like growth forty paces above the trail. It had a long stalk and bulbous cap of deep crimson threaded with purple veins, and grew in tight clusters of four.

  The Hunter's brow furrowed. It can't be a coincidence. Red velvet length, soft flesh, thick purple veins. An incredulous grin spread on his face. Taivoro, you mad bastard!

  As with every other clue, the playwright had concealed the truth within what at first glance appeared to be nonsense. For thousands of years, the way to Enarium had hidden in plain sight. No one had uncovered it because no one knew where to look. No one but the Sage, and now him.

  After everything else they'd learned from the Taivoro book, the Hunter knew with reasonable certainty that this had to be what he thought it was. The “guardians of my love fair” in the story referred to the Stone Guardians, which could only mean these plants were the secret to dealing with the massive creatures.

  The Hunter wanted to pause and re-read the passage to see if he could find any hint as to how a little plant could drive off a monstrous beast—a beast more than twice the height of a man and with skin of stone—but that would cause a delay they could ill-afford. His urgency to escape pursuit meant he couldn't simply climb the cliff face and pluck one of the mushrooms for observation or testing. Right now, they were about as useful to him as Serenii magick or the alchemist secrets locked in the Temple of Whispers.

  Though it grated, he kept riding, pushing Elivast and Ash as hard as the horses could manage. The incline was gentle, the stone smooth, but the altitude affected the horses as much as the mountaineers, Evren, and Hailen. Though he kept the pace as slow as he dared, by noon he could see all of them growing tired.

  Dread filled him as his sensitive ears caught a sound from behind. Hoofbeats on stone. He glanced over his shoulder, and a ball of ice formed in his stomach. There, less than two hundred paces below him, Sir Danna rode at the head of her Cambionari and Warrior Priests.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Shit! The Hunter's gut clenched. No chance of outrunning them now.

  A bend in the trail obscured the pursuers from view, but the Hunter had no doubt they would catch up within an hour. Even if he pushed the pace as fast as he could manage, only he and Hailen rode horses able to run.

  Tense minutes passed as the Hunter forced himself to remain calm. The trail was too narrow to push past Evren and the mountaineers. He had to match their pace or else risk riding them off the cliff's edge. Yet with every thundering heartbeat, he knew Sir Danna was closing the gap.

  Things truly had gone sideways, as he feared. All he could do now was find a place where his back-up plan wouldn't get them all killed.

  His eyes tracked the trail upward as far as he could see. The path disappeared around a cliff, then doubled back fifty or sixty paces higher. There the trail narrowed to a point barely wide enough for two men to walk side by side. The sharp turn in the path meant Sir Danna couldn't simply ride him down. She'd have to send her men at him one at a time. They'd never get past him.

  He glanced backward, but the cliffs hid his pursuers. He'd have minutes from the time he reined in before Sir Danna and her men caught up. Hopefully, that would give Rassek and Darillon enough of a head-start that they could cover serious ground with Hailen.

  "Darillon!" he shouted as he pulled Elivast to a halt at the narrow section of trail.

  The older mountaineer reined in and twisted in his saddle. His gaze went to something behind the Hunter, and his eyes went wide. "They're coming."

  "Go!" The Hunter thrust a finger toward the trail. "Keep riding hard."

  "We can't," Rassek panted. "The horses are too tired, says I."

  "I know." The Hunter released Ash's reins and jumped from the saddle. "But you have to try. I'll buy you time, but you have to go on."

  "Hardwell?" Fear shone in Hailen's eyes. "What are you--?"

  The Hunter's gut clenched at the boy's panicking expression. "Hailen, I need you to go with Darillon and Rassek. They're going to keep you safe."

  "I don't want to leave you!" Hailen cried.

  "You have to, Hailen." He pointed at the approaching riders. "I promised I'd never let the bad men hurt you again, and that's what I'm going to do."

  "But what if they hurt you?"

  The question brought a lump to the Hunter's throat. Hailen cared more for the Hunter's wellbeing than his own. Just one of the reasons the he'd known all those months ago that he would die to keep the boy safe.

  He swallowed hard. "I'll follow as soon as I can. I promise." He didn't dare take the boy's hand; he couldn't risk Hailen's blood drawing the Stone Guardians. All he could do was squeeze the boy's boot in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. His eyes burned, and he quickly turned to Evren and the mountaineers. "Take care of him. I'm right behind you."

  Rassek nodded. "May the Apprentice smile on ye, Hardwell." He gathered up Ash's reins and tugged the desert horse into motion behind his own mountain horse.

  The Hunter had one last glance of Hailen's fear-filled face before the four of them disappeared around a bend in the trail. Blinking hard to banish the burning in his eyes, he turned to Elivast.

  "Well, boy, looks like it
's just you and me again."

  He unslung his sword sheath from his saddle, strapped it to his belt, and adjusted his cloak. The sound of pounding hooves grew louder as he strode down the trail to meet his pursuers.

  Sir Danna reined in twenty paces away, surprise and suspicion in her eyes. He made no move toward her, but stood with his arms folded and a blank expression on his face.

  If she wants me, she'll have to come and get me.

  He tensed as the knight dismounted, her mail jingling as her heavy boots thumped on stone. To his surprise, the rest of her men made no move to dismount. The Hunter scanned the figures on the trail and found Kiara riding third from the front of the line. He raised a questioning eyebrow, but her expression revealed nothing.

  Sir Danna strode toward him, her face as hard as the mountains around him. The reek of iron grew with every step closer, accompanied by her unique scent of steel, sweat, leather, and wisteria. Hours of pursuit had done little to dim the fire of enmity burning in her eyes.

  She stopped four paces away, just beyond the reach of the greatsword she carried on her back. A tense silence hung between them. He had no idea what to say to her. Though she made no move to draw the blade, every fiber of her being radiated menace.

  "Demonspawn," she growled. She barely reached his shoulder, yet her heavy armor and broad shoulders made her seem somehow larger and more imposing.

  "Really? This again?" The Hunter cocked an eyebrow. "I have a name, you know."

  Sir Danna sneered. "The Hunter of Voramis, or so Kiara tells me. The name of a killer, a murderer."

  The Hunter shrugged. "If it's all the same, I've grown quite fond of it over the last few decades. Demonspawn doesn't quite roll off the tongue as easily."

  "Is that why I am here?" The knight's face hardened. "So you can prove you are as glib-tongued as you are treacherous?"

  "Treacherous?" The Hunter found his voice rising in anger. "If I remember correctly, it was you who poisoned me and threw me off a cliff."

  "You are a Bucelarii." Fire flashed in Sir Danna's eyes. "Your kind has plagued this world for far too long. I was simply doing what I trained my entire life to."

  The Hunter folded his arms. "So you say. Which begs the question: why aren't you ordering your men to kill me? After all, you have me cornered, don't you?"

  Sir Danna snorted. "You hold the high ground, forcing me to send my men at you one at a time. My revulsion for you and everything you represent has not dulled my wits. I will not lead my men to a slaughter."

  "You've come to face me yourself, have you?" The Hunter smiled. "A glorious battle to the death. Righteous knight, servant of justice, versus assassin, demon, and killer."

  "No." Her words came out clipped, tight. "I am here…to talk."

  The Hunter's eyes flashed toward Kiara, who gave a little nod.

  "Somehow, you convinced Kiara that you had something worth saying," Sir Danna said. "So speak your piece, murderer."

  The Hunter drew in a deep breath. "What would you have me say? You’ve already made up your mind to kill me."

  Sir Danna's expression turned icy. "Every man, even one with the blood of demons running in his vein, deserves a fair trial. I will be judge and jury here."

  "You look more like an executioner," the Hunter retorted.

  Sir Danna's jaw clenched and her fists tightened, but she made no move for her weapons. "My patience is reaching its end, Hunter." She spat the word and her mouth twisted as if at a foul taste.

  "As is mine." The Hunter took a step toward her, and he hid a smile as she instinctively tensed. "You and your men have pursued me since Vothmot, but stopping me would be a mistake."

  "Because of some demon you hunt?"

  The Hunter nodded. "Precisely. The Sage is more than just 'some demon'—he is the one controlling all the Abiarazi on Einan."

  Sir Danna's brow furrowed. "There are no demons still alive—"

  The Hunter cut her off with a slash of his hand. "Isn't that what you believed about the Bucelarii? You were wrong about that, so maybe, just bloody maybe, you're wrong about this, too." He thrust a finger at Kiara. "Doubt my word, but Kiara will tell you what she saw."

  "She already has." Sir Danna spoke in a slow voice. "Which is the only reason I agreed to speak with you rather than cut you down where you stand. But if you think I will simply let you go on your way without—"

  "That's exactly what you need to do!" The Hunter's voice rose to a shout that echoed across the mountains. "Every Watcher-damned second you delay me here, the Sage gets closer to carrying out whatever he's planning and bringing the Destroyer back to life."

  "And why should I believe that you and he are not in league?" Sir Danna demanded, her expression hardening.

  The Hunter threw up his hands. "Because, like I already told you, I don't work with demons. I bloody kill them."

  "You killed this First of Voramis in vengeance for what he did to your little girl, but that is no less than I'd expect from your kind." Sir Danna narrowed her eyes. "Yet, just days later, you murder a score of priests in Malandria. Not something a 'hero' like you claim to be would do."

  The Hunter growled in frustration. "I never claimed to be a fucking hero. I'm simply the only one capable of stopping the Sage."

  Sir Danna bristled and drew herself up to her full height. "I have trained my entire life to—"

  "Some lot of good you've done!" The Hunter bared his teeth. "You had a bloody demon controlling the Order of Midas in Malandria, while another masqueraded as an Illusionist Cleric in your own temple."

  "You cannot prove that." Sir Danna gave a little wince.

  "I looked into that creature's eyes and saw the empty hells there. Just as you see here." He thrust a finger at his own eyes. "I knew him for what he was the moment I saw him. I just wish you could say the same for yourself."

  Again, Sir Danna flinched. "Then if, as you say," she said in a slow voice, "you truly do wish to put an end to the Sage, I will help you."

  Both of the Hunter's eyebrows rose. "Help me? I thought you wanted me dead."

  "More than you could possibly imagine," the knight growled. "But if something threatens all of Einan, it is my duty to deal with it. I will go to Enarium and deal with this Sage. And you'll come with me…" A vicious smile twisted her face. "In iron chains. When we have eliminated the demon, you will join the rest of your kind in their final resting place beside Khar'nath."

  Memory washed over the Hunter. Once again, he stood in Enarium, a lifetime ago.

  He couldn't see the simple stone markers dotting the mountains around Khar'nath, but he knew they were there. Four hundred and sixty-seven of them, at last count. Four hundred and sixty-seven brothers and sisters slain by the Cambionari and laid to eternal rest within sight of the portal to hell.

  Horror writhed like a worm in his gut. The Cambionari had done that. They had hunted down four hundred and sixty-seven Bucelarii from around Einan, then buried them beside Khar’nath. A grisly reminder of what they truly were—creatures from a fiery hell.

  He buried his fury at the Cambionari down deep. Right now, something else she'd said caught his attention.

  "You know the way to Enarium?" he asked.

  "Of course. All Cambionari do."

  The Hunter's eyes went wide at her matter-of-fact tone.

  The cruel smile returned to the knight's face. "How else do you think we know where to drag the corpses of the Bucelarii we kill?"

  Disgust radiated from the presence in the Hunter's mind, and the demon shrieked at him to kill her. Soulhunger added its demands. For once, the Hunter had no desire to refuse. Fury surged within him at the callous way she spoke of slaughtering his kin. It took all of his effort not to draw his weapons and attack. This woman before him, like all the rest of the Cambionari, was responsible for eradicating the Bucelarii. He was the last of his kind because of Sir Danna and the other Beggar Priests.

  "Yes, I recognize that look in your eyes, Hunter." Sir Danna spoke in a harsh whisp
er, hatred and bitterness lacing her tone. "What you're feeling, it's the same thing I feel every time I think about what you did to Visibos."

  Mention of the apprentice brought back the stab of guilt that had plagued him ever since his encounter with Father Reverentus in Vothmot. He truly hadn't intended to kill Visibos.

  "I was the one who found his body." The knight's words dripped vitriol, and her rage-filled eyes pierced to the core of his being. "After I returned to Malandria and found Father Pietus and the others. But it wasn't until days later that I thought to check the vault." She shook her head. "A horrible death, one you condemned him to. And for that, you will pay. You will join the rest of your kind in the graves around Khar'nath."

  "You're a fool if you think I'll be led like a sheep to the slaughter." The Hunter bared his teeth, speaking in the same low, hard tone. "I will not be shackled or tortured. I have had my fill of both. Kill me here, or let me go so I can put an end to the Sage and the threat he poses to all of Einan."

  "Given that choice," Sir Danna said in a slow voice, her smile hard and sharp, "I'll always choose the former." With a furious roar, she attacked.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Sir Danna didn't bother with her greatsword; this close to the Hunter, she had no hope of drawing it in time. Instead, her hands dropped to her belt and ripped two daggers free of their sheaths. The stink of iron filled the air as she rushed the Hunter, swiping and thrusting with the short, quick strikes of an experienced knife fighter.

  From the moment he saw the fury in her eyes, the Hunter had expected the attack. Despite Sir Danna's speed—impressive for someone wearing such heavy armor—the Hunter moved faster. His long sword whispered from its sheath to parry her first dagger strike, dodged a second, and knocked a third wide with Soulhunger. A puff of smoke rose from the metal at contact with the iron.

  He took a single step back, feigning retreat. Sir Danna pursued, but the Hunter shuffled forward quickly instead, steeping inside the reach of her widespread arms. He whipped his right elbow upward, and the point cracked into the underside of her chin. She staggered backward, blinking and shaking her head. Blood trickled from her mouth and lip.