Sordith grinned and shook his head. “No… you are right, that was much more like a spider twitching his web just right. That poor fly didn’t have a chance.” Sordith stated as he drained his goblet and set it on the table.
“Well then, I do hope you will join us to see me feast upon my hapless fly.” Luthian countered.
“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for a long roll in bed with a beauty.” Sordith grinned then turned for the door. “I just hope for your sake your fly is as inept as you seem to think he is,” Sordith said as he strode from the room.
Luthian slowly sat down and picked up his goblet. He answered the man though there was no one to hear. “So do I… Lord Sordith… So do I.”
Chapter Twelve
Sordith stepped through the arches which defined the testing arena. He had never had the authority or rank to enter through the decorative arches before today. It was the centerpiece of the third tier. The seats and walls were all engraved with magical symbols, battles with dragons and other grand images. It had a strange metallic smell that reminded Sordith of a combination of blood and odor of sizzling lightning in the sky. The dirt below him on the arena floor was dark as the rain had recently smoothed its surface.
The Trench Lord scanned the contents of the grounds. It was an interesting arrangement. The shape was an oval; around the edges were various items representing the elements. A crackling wood fire, a pool of water, a tall gnarled tree, and a pile of stones were examples of this strange representation.
As a youth, he had been fascinated by the testing arena. Any child who failed in their initial testing mostly heard tales and whispers. Occasionally if one were quick and well-liked by city guardsman, you could sneak up to the fourth tier to get a view down into the arena.
Jostled by the growing crowd, he had to step to one side. He looked up as he remembered sitting on nearby rooftops just to get a glimpse of the higher mages taking their tier tests. It was not easy to get a view from the fourth tier. During such events the guards often let the children through, knowing what they were up to and not wishing to deny the urchins a glimpse of excitement. He smiled, remembering one old guard who used to wave anyone who looked to be under ten his way.
It was rare that mages dueled in the open. Most challenges for title were secretive matters held in manor houses or outside the city. It was a bold move for Valmere to take this challenge to a public forum. At the same time, it would force Luthian to fight honorably within his sphere regardless of what skills he may have learned from bloodstones.
The High Minister had appeared confident when the challenge was issued. Did he have any knowledge that Sordith had missed? He had read the information that Aorun had gathered on the current council. Valmere was a skilled mage in the sphere of nature if rumors that he could command plant life at his whim were true. While Sordith had no love for Luthian, he did understand the man. Valmere was not one he hoped to see rise to the position of high minister. The man was prone to noble and moral stands, and for a trench lord, a noble high minister was not always an ideal situation. Sordith knew that such a man was not likely to look the other way when it might be in his best interests.
Sordith found a seat in the back of the council box, taking advantage of the slightly higher elevation. Much of the council had already arrived and was seated. He took note as he looked them over one by one. Some seemed excited, anticipating what would most likely be an epic battle. A few seemed nervous, including the two stone mages assigned to help the Trench Lord reduce the open waste in the trench. However, the ones that garnered Sordith’s deepest attention were the ones that seemed to be anticipating an end to Luthian.
Valmere entered first, his stride confident as he made his way to one end of the arena. A table was set at each end for the combating mages. He seemed to have no care for the crowds or anyone milling close by. His green robes were decorated in contrasting trim of gold and purple. Sordith noted the calm and centered manner that Valmere presented. He had learned this was quite typical of a mage aligned with nature.
Sordith returned his attention to the growing crowd. Word must have spread quickly throughout Silverport as the seating for the public denizens was swiftly filling. He smiled as his eyes cast the rooftops from the tier above, much as he had done as a child, the agile youth were starting to line the edges of the tiers above.
He heard a murmur and followed the gazes of the crowd. Luthian had entered the far end of the arena. Luthian was just as striking a figure as he removed his robes. He was dressed in black except for a red belt thick with pouches. His white hair had been pulled back to the base of his neck. The high minister also seemed unfazed by the crowd that was gathering. He laid his robe across the provided table and turned as the arena master entered.
The elderly gentleman could have passed for any grandparent sitting on his veranda, pipe in hand. His long graying hair did not hold the bleaching of many of the upper tier judges. Despite his apparent age, he moved with a confidence and grace that spoke of powers hidden beneath that gentle elderly facade.
Sordith had to admire the man who was willing to play the part of judge between these two powerful men. The judge motioned both men forward, and Sordith glanced down the arena towards the nature mage. Valmere’s robe just seemed to slip off his shoulders as he moved forward. He wore nothing now except a black pair of pants and a dark green belt.
Valmere was much more striking in physical appearance, a fact only confirmed by the soft feminine sighs in the crowd when his robe fell away. He was muscled and clearly spent a great deal of time in physical exercise as his chest and abdomen were well defined. This was in direct contrast to the slim lithe build of Luthian. The man was translucently pale and really needed to spend more time out in his gardens than with his books.
“Who are you thinking will win, Lord Sordith?” a soft feminine voice inquired.
Sordith stiffened slightly, he was clearly paying close enough attention if one could get so close without his notice. He glanced over swiftly to assess his companion. “I am unsure my lady.” He smiled at Lady Aldemar. “I was unaware you were on the council?” He took in the sleeveless silver robes over a soft purple linen shirt. Her ribbons and jewelry matched the contrasting shirt with a pale flush of a similar purple. He looked about the box as no one seemed to mind her presence.
“I once was." Her voice held an edge of wistfulness. She smiled at Sordith. "I stepped down when Luthian rose to High Minister. I am still accorded some privileges; this is one of them.” Her air of authority and confidence as she stood beside him was confirmation enough that she belonged with any other fifth tier mage.
She looked at the two men who now stood on either side of the arena master. “I can only pray that Valmere has not overstepped his abilities.” She nodded towards the bare chested mage.
The trench lord followed her eyes; whereas Luthian stood before the arena master with hands clasped behind him, Valmere stood with arms crossed, his defiance clearly written in his stance. “I find many do not like our current high minister. May I ask your objection to him?” Sordith asked softly. The tension of the quieting crowd was now palpable and the calls of bets could be heard from those closest to him. The wagers seemed to be going both directions.
The lady gave Sordith a knowing glance and he had to admire the spark of confidence in her eyes as her face and body posture described her distrust of the new trench lord. “I have my own reasons that I think I shall keep close for my safety.” Lady Aldemar stated as she watched the conversation below them. “What of you?” She hooked her hand through his arm as if they were casually standing at a ball and not the possible death of two of the ruling class of mages. Sordith had often imagined what it would be like to have such a woman on his arm.
“I prefer the evil I know to the one I do not,” Sordith admitted. It was his safest answer out of this conversation. Lady Aldemar may not be part of the council, but she still held major sway over the city. She had helped Alador when he had been out of his
wits, and had demanded no answers or favors. He preferred remaining in the woman’s good graces. “However, my preference really has no bearing as I will be forced to work with whoever holds the office.”
“A fair point sir.” The lady smiled and nodded thoughtfully. Their conversation was interrupted as the arena master began to speak; his voice was magically amplified. This was followed by a round of shushing from all about them.
“The rules are as follows. The combatants may not leave the arena until another has yielded or been killed. A shield will be erected by the arena mages keeping all spells within to protect those that watch and linger. If a man yields, the other must stay his hand. For yielding brings enough shame.”
Luthian’s rising tone was as hard and cold as his gaze. “This is a matter far beyond place but one of honor as well. Permission to fight to the death and remove this traitorous dog once and for all.” Luthian stated loudly. “He has continued to speak falsely behind my back, cast my family name into the mud, and now seeks to usurp my position of authority. Let our battle end here once and for all.”
A stunned silence swept through the arena as all eyes flashed to the three men in the center. Sordith could hear the flies buzzing in the cool afternoon sun as the crowd held a collective breath. The arena master looks at Valmere, for both men must agree to such terms.
Sordith noted that Valmere’s returned look toward Luthian held a mask of shock. “I challenge you to the High Council seat, and you have the audacity and desire to kill me for it? I was here for honor and better leadership, but it seems that you are here for blood and power.” His loud answer was filled with his disdain. Valmere spit down into the dirt that covered the ground of the ring. “I accept terms.”
The uproar was immediate. People began booing, cheering and over it all, the sound of bets being raised filled the air. Sordith smile was grim as the lady at his side let out of gasp of concern. He tapped her hand reassuringly with his own and he covered it. “I am sure Lord Valmere would not have accepted if he did not have the confidence to win the day, m’lady.” Though she flashed him a thankful look, Sordith did not see confidence in her brief smile or nod.
He looked around the arena as the crowd noise surged with the excitement as the realization that the odds were just upped swept around the marble enclosure. This would be something told in taverns for years to come, Sordith thought. He did not have any doubt why Luthian had upped the odds of this fight, leaving an enemy in your midst if you had the means to remove him was just a smart move. The question was… Sordith mused ... did Luthian have the means to kill this man?
The arena master held up his hands for silence. He did not continue until the noise had dropped to an acceptable level. “This duel will be to the death.” He glanced from left to right, receiving a final nod of agreement from both men. “The shield will not fall until one or the other leaves this life.”
The murmurs of the crowd swelled louder for a moment, and the man was forced to hold his hands up again to silence them. “Take your marks.”
There were two circles set equal distance from the middle. Luthian turned his back boldly on the other mage and made his way to his end of the arena. His hands were still clasped behind him as if taking a leisurely stroll. Sordith shook his head and hoped that Luthian’s appearance of unconcerned arrogance was feigned for his opponent’s sake.
Sordith glanced at Valmere who was more on the aggressive side. He could tell by the man’s stance that he knew how to fight. Valmere was already pulling things from his pouches though Sordith could not see what. He was not going to be able to help Luthian in this matter. The mage was on his own.
The trench lord’s attention was distracted as four additional mages took positions up on the edges of the arena. The Arena master took up a spot in the middle, and they raised their arms high and began to chant words that sounded like Owen singing after one too many brews for the night. Unlike when Owen was singing, a sizzle of power filled the air. It began as a point of light starting at the top, so strong that even Sordith with no magic at all could feel the pull.
A blue dome began to form, the spider web like tendrils of dark power arced outward then down to the edges of the arena wall. They were filled in by the strange blue glow creating a cage like effect over the two men down on the floor. When it touched the wall in front of the four casting mages, it became translucent so that all could see the battle to be waged before them. Sordith watched as the arena master tossed a large ball of lightning onto it and nodded his approval as the spell fizzled out against where the dome had been seen for just a brief moment.
“Begin!” The call echoed out of the arena master with a tone so ominous that it was as if the Lady of Death herself had bid them to fight.
The arena crowd became quiet, a collective holding of their breath. Sordith watched in amazement as Valmere’s hands became covered with writhing and pulsing gauntlets of thorny vines. The right hand grew out an additional length of vine that grew into a pool of rope at his feet. Sordith realized it was a whip of sorts.
He glanced quickly at Luthian, but the man seemed too casual for Sordith’s comfort. He was striding towards the center of the arena staring at his knife. The fire mage pulled something off it and flicked it to the right of Valmere, clearly disgusted that his knife had not been clean. The displeasure for whoever cleaned his weapons a secondary thought as Sordith shook his head. At this rate, he would be breaking in a new high minister before the day was done.
Apparently Luthian was paying more attention than Sordith had given him credit. The crowd gasped as Valmere sent the vine whip lashing out. Luthian flipped the dagger to the ground; a violet wall rose up just a foot in front of him then it turned to orange fiery flames. The fire mage had reacted a moment too late, however, as the vine had snapped passed the wall before it had fully formed. It barely missed Luthian before the flames cut off the end. Luthian moved to his left as the vine withered on the ground where he had been. Sordith glanced over to where the pointless dagger lay flat upon the earth. The man had not even had the skill to bury the blade so that the handle was readily accessible to him. Sordith shook his head in genuine concern.
Valmere wasted no time. He snapped the damaged whip again, a trail of green ooze flickering about as it sprayed into the hungry flames. The flames turned from orange to a sickly pale green. From Sordith’s advantage point, he was able to see both men. Luthian fell back swiftly, his face covered by his arm and coughing violently as he did so. The ooze must have held some form of poison.
A flash of light caught Sordith’s eye and he realized that whatever Luthian had thrown down off the dagger, was now glowing. He and the crowd gasped as it exploded loudly despite the magical buffer between audience and combatants. A circle of fire radiated out from where it had been, racing towards anything in its deadly path. The crowd cheered as both men had now struck blows.
The force of the explosion had pushed Valmere off balance. He stumbled to the ground, rolling up as he found his footing. Vines began to wrap around his chest in a protective shield. Sordith wondered how effective such a shield really was against fire. The explosion or perhaps time had ended Luthian’s protective shield and Valmere rushed towards him, gauntlet swinging back for a deadly blow. Luthian pivoted to his right, gone now was the seeming casual indifference. Fire shot from his fingertips aimed at Valmere’s deadly gauntlet.
Many were now on the edge of their seats. Sordith realized he had not taken a breath and eased out some air. He dared a quick glance at the lady at his side who seemed just as riveted as any of the rest of them.
Luthian’s aim had been true forcing Valmere to toss the now flaming gauntlet off his hand. He moved around the ring, his back now to Sordith. Luthian was keeping pace with him trying to keep him in front. Valmere had a free hand in his pouch and Luthian was sprinkling a strange sparkling powder from his own hand. This put Luthian directly across from Sordith with Valmere between them. Sordith did not know about Valmere, but Luthian ha
d eyes for no one but the man before him. The look of cold hatred in Luthian’s eyes made Sordith’s stomach turn.
Again, the whip snapped out. It lashed around the High Minister, and by the arching of Luthian’s back, Sordith realized that it had hit home. He suspected that such a weapon was poisoned for it would hardly have been of use in a fight to the death otherwise.
Despite the pain of the whip, Luthian did not pause. Four balls of fire streaked from his hand, one after the other. Valmere managed to dodge the first three, but Luthian anticipated his final move, and the final sphere hit the nature mage full on the chest. The force was so strong that the man flew back and hit the ground. Truly a man of battle, the mage rolled up although a bit slower now. Small rivulets of blood could be seen, the vines around his chest had not managed to absorb all the force. Either that, or the thorns had been driven into his own body.
Valmere struck out with the whip again drawing Sordith’s eyes back to Luthian. The man looked to be attempting to take a potion. The High Minister managed to dodge the blow, but hit the ground hard. The vial went skittering just out of reach on the arena floor. Luthian was attempting to scramble for it when Valmere threw something at him. It seemed to be small pebbles or maybe seeds — it was too far to tell. Vines quickly emerged and one grabbed hold of Luthian’s foot, stopping him just short of the vial.
It was then that a small swirling vortex of sparkling dust caught Sordith’s eye. He quickly glanced back at the fight. More vines were forming around Luthian and Sordith’s hands slipped reflexively to his swords.
“Easy Lord Sordith. To interfere is to be condemned to death yourself.” The soft feminine hand on his arm squeezed gently as Lady Aldemar spoke.
Pseudo-Dragon (The Blue Dragon's Geas Book 4) Page 12
