Hammer Out A Path (Cart-Dragger Saga Book 2)
Page 5
Strength smiled. "That'll make it more perilous for me too. But when have the Four Virtues ever shied away from peril?" Might be partly why there was only one Virtue now. "I'll do it."
After Strength set out, riding a winged God Soldier to get there sooner, Cart-Dragger and friends started the hard work of finding shelter for all three thousand refugees. Many were able to be housed in public buildings, albeit in cramped manner, and they sought charitable citizens to take in the rest. Food was another issue; while some who fled Velinthe had managed to save a little money, most hadn't, and couldn't afford even basic fare to sustain themselves. Cart-Dragger bought food from the farmers using city funds and distributed it to those in need, but she knew the supply was limited and Galantria's own people would be impacted. They could step up their agricultural production, but not quickly enough to avoid a shortage at least for a little bit.
The first week or so was rough, as Cart-Dragger often had to deal with complaints about the refugees. People reported them stealing food and clothes, disrupting activities in the public buildings where they stayed or being poor guests in their homes. She supposed being victims of a disaster didn't make them saints, and could understand to a degree the theft of food and clothing if the portions received weren't adequate or they didn't have money for needed garments. She reprimanded those who had done wrongs, mostly just leaving them with a stern warning for a first offense, while setting up an office where they could request additional food and donated clothing. Those who couldn't get along in their temporary homes, she relocated to new ones—although there were at least a few she suspected might end up having to stay in tents or worse, jail. One who a homeowner accused of following his teenage daughter around would need to be kept an eye on, for example.
After attending to it herself for a while, she assigned Ruth to handle requests and complaints from or regarding the refugees. She sent Lars to find Abaddon and bring him back, as him being here would allow her some freedom to move around again. Rather than just wait for the race of evil's assault, she'd prefer to learn where they came from and perhaps take the fight to them. If she could finish off that tentacled titan, and their leader if they weren't one and the same, that would probably be quite a relief for her and the rest of mankind.
One day, a guard rushed into her office while she looked over some paperwork. "Duchess, a man is outside demanding to see you!"
The wariness in his voice told her this wasn't just any visitor. "What kind of man?"
"He appears to be a warrior, clad head to toe in armor with a helm masking his face."
It reminded her of when Strength had come to the manor to challenge her, only this time her potential challenger was a stranger. "Then I'll oblige him."
She hefted her hammer—the long version she once again carried wherever she went—from beside her desk and walked out to behold a gleaming figure in front of her house. Ruth already faced him with a group of guards, all looking nervous. He was average height with perhaps a medium build, though the armor that encased him made him seem bulkier. It appeared even thicker and covered him more completely than normal plate, almost like a metal second skin instead of a suit. The only flesh and blood part of him she could make out were harsh gray orbs through small eyeholes in his oval helmet. He held a large sword, curved with a wide blade.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" she asked.
In a flat tone, he replied, "I wish to fight the one called Cart-Dragger."
She moved the maul off her shoulder into a ready position and thought she glimpsed a flicker of—she wasn't sure what, anger?—in his eyes. "I'm Cart-Dragger. So just like that, you want to fight me? Any reason you'd like to give?"
"You will know the reason in time. Do you accept or is the mythic figure a coward after all?"
"You don't have to do this alone," Ruth said at her side. "We know nothing about this person, he could be dangerous. Perhaps we should subdue him together and then force him to divulge his true intentions."
Cart-Dragger shook her head. "He might well be dangerous, but I'm supposed to be the best fighter in the world. If I'm too scared to even test his blade alone, that wouldn't be very fitting of my reputation would it?"
"I suppose. We'll be ready to step in at your word."
The stranger nodded. "Then you are still yourself. Get ready!" He charged, the sword sweeping forward.
She met him and their weapons slammed together—knocking her back as her eyes widened. It appeared he might be stronger than her... was it possible? Not even Strength and her fellow gigantic general Resolve had shown a noticeable power advantage over her. "Who the hell are you?"
He didn't respond and rushed again. She parried a cut that threatened to rip her haft from already sweaty hands, blocked another and only just managed to resist being driven back again. Whoever he was, he definitely wasn't normal. She slashed at his head. He dodged, quick as a cat in spite of that heavy armor, and kicked her in the middle. It felt like a battering ram plowing into her liver. She flew off her feet, tumbled head over heels and rolled to a crouch trying to fight back the pain that spread out from the site of impact. Though she couldn't recall every strike she'd taken, she considered the possibility she had never been hit that hard by a human limb before. His leg felt unusually... what? Heavy? She wasn't sure, but his kick seemed to have a lot of weight behind it—too much. Maybe he wasn't human at all.
"Want help?" Ruth asked. The trepidation in her voice made Cart-Dragger wonder if she really desired to get involved, though.
"Not yet. It's not like I've never fought anything stronger than me." Something man-sized and not even that imposing in build, though...
The shiny one ran towards her. This time she stood more lightly on her feet, and instead of trying to meet his force head on, darted to the side and struck his blade as it missed. Pushing him off balance, she landed a leaping kick to the back of his head, attempted to follow up with a hammer blow. He intercepted it with his sword, but was sent skidding back in turn. A bit surprising his weapon didn't break—perhaps magic fortified it. "You are still impressive," he said.
"Still? What's going on, do you know me?"
Before he could answer, Ruth pointed out, "You are pretty well known. Maybe he wanted to test his skills against yours, but worried you'd have declined after this time of peace."
That could be the case. She couldn't get a bead on his motives, though. Did he wish to kill her, or only see who was greater between them? He had seemed calm so far, except for that flash in his eyes before the fight. He approached more cautiously now, but then exploded into a blistering flurry. She backpedaled, frantically waving her hammer to deflect blows the impacts of which stung her palms. Such speed along with his strength... but she got more used to it now, and speed wasn't something she lacked experience dealing with. They traded many blows, her dancing this way and that so as to prevent him from keeping too much pressure on her. Still, cuts opened up on her limbs as his blade grazed her, and she couldn't get in a solid hit in return.
He kicked her into the side of her house, driving her through the wall so she scrambled up in the lobby. He chased her through the hole and she ran out the doors, turned to find him already on her thanks to the split second delay from pushing them open. She gasped at his thrust which glanced along her side, overselling the pain to give him false confidence. As she reeled and he lunged after her, she set her feet and repelled his overzealous chop with a powerful block. Seeing him step back slightly unbalanced, she dashed in. He attempted to dissuade her with a jabbing point. She spun past it, landed an elbow to his neck followed by a knee to the spine. While he stumbled forward, she whipped her hammer into his butt.
Launched through the air, he flipped over and over before crashing down on his belly with a clang. He groaned and tried to push himself up. "How..?"
"Now, who are you? With those unusual abilities, I'm beginning to suspect you might be a harbinger of the race of evil."
"The race of evil? What is that?"
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She scowled. "I don't know whether you're lying or being truthful. But you had better explain what you're doing here, or we'll have no choice but to consider you a threat."
His voice grew lower. "You want to know my purpose?"
"That would be nice, yes."
"My purpose..." He paused. When he spoke again, his voice seethed with rage and hate. "My purpose is to kill you!"
That was rather blunt, and—she had no time for other thoughts as he burst off the ground and zoomed at her in a blur, far faster than before. She just raised her guard in time, his slash to her haft throwing her back. He pursued but changed direction at the last instant, laying open her arm as he passed by her instead of coming straight on. She turned in place, barely quick enough to track his movement. He was racing away from her, no, he was going from side to side, then speeding at her again... Cart-Dragger dropped low, tried to sweep his legs out from under him. He jumped over her haft and cleaved down at her face. She rolled, threw a javelin. He smacked it away without effort and shot forward again. As he drew his sword back, she sprang at him. His blade plunged deep into her chest.
Simultaneously, her hammer collided thunderously with his face. His helmet warped and he was driven sliding across the cobbles with such force his armor squealed. "Lady Willow!" one of the guards cried.
She clutched her riven breast, blood gushing through her fingers. "I'm fine. Him on the other hand..." Seeing the shiny bastard go for a thrust had inspired her to risk eating it in exchange for the chance to take him out, and now he was dead.
"Who was he, though?" Ruth asked.
"I guess we'll find out when we remove his hel-" Before she could finish, he reached up on his back to grasp the dented helm. "You're alive after that?" He moaned as he pulled it off, revealing a ponytailed man in his early thirties with an angular face, nose crushed, one eye shut and drooping with the socket broken, blood leaking from his ears. While he had survived her telling blow, it'd been a close thing. He struggled to sit up, arms trembling as they pushed at the earth. But she still didn't recognize him.
Ruth however apparently did, as her eyes bulged. "T-that's... he's Ambition from the Four Virtues!"
"Isn't he supposed to be dead?" Cart-Dragger's heartbeat quickened with the dreadful possibility that came to mind. "Are you saying the empire might be behind this? But both Maximilian Rouge and the Overseer are dead, so who..."
"I don't know, I was just a lowly grunt in the army. If Strength was here, she might be able to tell you more. But he hasn't aged a day since then—perhaps he rested in some kind of stasis until now, and..."
"I cannot lose to you," Ambition said weakly.
"Is that so? Looks to me like you already have."
He clenched a fist. A moment later his seemingly solid armor fell apart leaving him in a skintight black suit, and he lurched upright. He swayed on his feet, yet her own footing probably wasn't much more steady with the gaping hole in her breast. "Without that encumbrance, I can move around even better."
"Maybe, but you'll be more vulnerable too. If I catch you again, it will be the end of you." She coughed, blood spilling out over her lip.
"Can you really keep fighting?" Ruth asked.
She forced a grin as she raised her maul. Her injury would have been fatal to most, but she was made of sterner stuff. "Is your memory that short? You've seen me get stabbed badly before. I still have more than enough strength to finish this battle."
Ambition sneered. "Then let us finish it."
They stood there and glared at one another for a few seconds, weapons dipping slightly in weary hands. "Well, aren't you coming?" Cart-Dragger asked, her arms heavy, the tang of blood strong on her tongue.
He pointed his sword towards her and walked forward, but slowly. "You are strong. But I will defeat you!" He sliced at her head. She parried, turned as he darted around to her side and just managed to duck away from his backswing. She struck back, watched her hammer pass through air while he seemed to flow away. Damn, he was using those bursts of speed more efficiently now. She dodged a rushing chop, kicked him in the crotch. It pushed him back, but otherwise he didn't visibly react. As he blocked her subsequent attempt to crush his skull, she tried another kick. He kicked at the same time, their shins inadvertently smashing against each other. She hissed as pain exploded through her leg. That hadn't even felt like a clash of bone on bone—his limb seemed much harder and heavier, like it was made of something else.
"You aren't human, are you?" she spat. "At least, not anymore."
Without answering, he resumed his onslaught. But she had a fair idea of what might be going on. He darted in and out, testing her defenses with a few strikes at a time before retreating out of range. This wasn't a game she wanted to play. His blows were heavier than hers, and in a war of attrition she would be worn down first. She tried to pursue, but he proved too swift on his feet and gashed her with brutal counters while she chased him futilely around. The blood loss making her head light, she bent putting a hand on one knee and squinted. He didn't take the bait, hanging back as if waiting to see if she partially faked it. She smiled at his savvy and drew her chain-attached javelin.
"If you want to adjust your tactics, so will I."
His eyes narrowed, then he charged. She deflected a slash with her maul, saw him shift his body right. She swung her javelin arm—and instead of throwing the spear, whipped the loop of chain she gripped into his path. It smacked against his chest, perhaps not doing much harm but slowing him down. She jumped in, hammer careening at his head. He leaned back in the nick of time, took a heel to the solar plexus from her spinning kick. At least that part of him didn't feel hard. He reeled away and she lashed out with the chain again, ripping his cheek.
"This should limit your fancy footwork nicely," she said, giving the chain a twirl.
He touched his now even more damaged face with a grimace. "You think I'll let that puny chain hinder me again? You just surprised me. I will simply brush it off next time and gut you."
"By all means. If you think you can." But instead of waiting for him, she attacked first with her hammer. Despite his words he seemed wary of the chain in her other hand, and didn't strike back as eagerly between warding off her blows. He no longer covered long distances with his movements, probably not bothering because she could still threaten him from a much greater range. What ripostes he made were careful, only launched when she was out of position to counter. She dodged and guarded them patiently, trying to find the right chance. If she could catch him or his weapon inside her loop, then...
Before either of them could gain a major advantage, a boom sounded and he staggered forward as something hit him in the back. Cart-Dragger spotted Scott behind him, holding a metal tube like one of the energy weapons found on imperial machines, adapted for handheld use. "What are you doing? I have this."
He stared at her many wounds, eyes lingering a moment on her chest. "You're badly hurt. I didn't want to stand by and do noth-"
Ambition spun, revealing the gleam of metal through the crater Scott's blast had torn in the flesh over his shoulder blade, and sped at him. So he had artificial parts. She'd suspected something like that, anyway. "How dare you interfere!"
"Oh no you don't!" She whipped her chain at his ankles, taking his feet out from under him. He fell on his side, rolled over to look furiously at her. "What are you, part machine? Like a human counterpart to the God Soldiers?"
"You lack honor... that was supposed to be a duel between the two of us."
"I didn't make Scott decide to intervene. If you're not going to answer the question, fine. It's clear the empire made some changes to you."
He glowered, but said, "Yes, this body has been modified to be even more suited to war than it originally was. With it, I would have beaten you."
"I doubt it." She limped over. "But if you've already admitted your singleminded devotion to my death, it wouldn't be prudent of me to give a dangerous creature like you another chance. This is your end."
She raised her hammer.
Her would-be victim waved a hand up. She didn't recognize the gesture, but felt the air grow hotter and her instincts made her leap back. An explosion erupted between them, filling the air with smoke. The hell, he could cast spells too? Why hadn't he until now? He must have been saving it as a trump card... "Where is he?"
"He's fleeing!" Ruth said. Cart-Dragger followed her gaze to see him receding into the distance down the street away from the manor. Despite the intense pain it caused to shoot through her breast, she broke into a lurching run after him.
"What are you doing?" Scott asked, he and Ruth sprinting alongside her. "We can't possibly catch up to him."
She coughed again, more warm liquid dribbling down her chin. "I know. That's why you two have to split up, get a flying elemental—preferably the fastest possible—and tell it to come find me running down the main street. In the meantime, I need to keep him in my sight as long as I can..."
After brief hesitation from Scott, they broke away to find the assistance she needed. She doggedly forced herself on after Ambition, but grew discouraged at how quickly his outline shrank. He had significant injuries, yet still moved with such speed... she couldn't help but wonder if chasing him down would be wise, given the wounds she bore. But on the other hand, she didn't know how quickly he could heal or repair himself. If he regained his full strength before she was close to recovered, the odds would be more stacked against her. She had to end the threat he posed today, no matter how much her body would rather lie down and rest.
The parrotlike God Soldier she had talked to about the race of evil swooped into view from the side. "It's you?" she said. "My friends found you quick. Thanks for helping again in advance."
"What do you need from me this time?" It paused, then commented in a motherly tone, "Duchess, you are seriously injured."
"Don't worry about it. You have to get lower so I can jump on your back and then fly after that man." She pointed at the speck Ambition looked like by now. "You know, the one running way too fast for me. Hope you fly quick."