Darkness Falls (Tales of the Wolf) (34 page)

Chapter 36

Gray winced as Galvorn pulled the last stitch tight. “That should about do it,” remarked the half-dark elf. “I still can’t believe you let those younglings wound you.”

Gray shifted his head to the side to get a better look at the stitches. “Nice grouping.” He stood up and moved over to the wash basin. “I admit, I might’ve gotten a bit complacent.” As the half-light elf slipped his tunic back on, he added, “There is a lesson to be learned there, if you were paying attention.”

Ga
lvorn chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll not underestimate Zivën.”

Gray nodded. “That would be a good thing. Believe it or not, I’ve become rather fond of having you around.”

Even though he had phrased his remark as a joke, Galvorn understood what he meant. “Don’t you worry Grim; I’ll be around to dance at your wedding and long afterwards.”

Gray raised an eyebrow. “Wedding? Do you know something that I don’t?”

“Nope…but I do think that you and Mouse make a cute couple.”

Gray wasn’t surprised that his half-brother knew about his relationship with Tamina. It would’ve been more surprising if he hadn’t figured it out. “Does anyone else on the team know?”

Galvorn shook his head. “Not that I know. You two have been very careful and secretive. I only figured it out recently and that’s only because I’ve known you two for many years.” He paused. “Actually, it’s more her than you. She has a hard time not letting her emotions show, especially when we’re in danger.”

Gray was about to add something when there was a tapping on the door. Galvorn drew his dagger and moved to the side of the entrance. Gray gripped his dagger but refrained from drawing it unless he needed it. Opening the door, they were confronted with a young gnome and a pretty dark elf lass. Gray recognized them at once. They had been part of the last group standing during their challenge.

The gnome bowed low but never took his eyes off the two Sicárii. “Master Isengrim, allow me to introduce myself, I am Khan, son of Kang and a guardian of Aad. It would be my honor to escort you to the duel.”

The dark elf lass stepped forward and also bowed low but her attention was on Gray’s half-brother. “Master Galvorn, I am
Rjani. I have been assigned to be your escort.”

Galvorn raised one eyebrow and looked her up and down.
Rjani was dressed in a light grey skirt and matching halter top that accented her figure and was very revealing of her assets. “I appreciate the offer but we know the way.”

Khan swallowed deeply. “May I speak bluntly Master Isengrim?”

Gray nodded. “Always.”

“We have been assigned to be your valets for as long as you are at the Lüdüs.”

“What? Why?”

It was
Rjani who answered and her tone belied the fact that she was not happy about the situation. “Because we failed during the Cërtatüs.”

Galvorn scoffed at this revelation. “But your Aciës did better than any other group.”

Gray patted his half-brother on the shoulder and nodded. “Of course, it makes sense.”

The other three responded in unison, “How?”

“We embarrassed the Kingslayer and since he cannot, or should I say, will not accept responsibility for his failure he has to blame someone. You three were the best of the bunch and the only ones who got close enough to score a hit on one of us. Therefore it is your fault.”

Khan cocked his head to the side. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Welcome to my world,” Gray added with a grin. “The Kingslayer is a bureaucrat and what he says is almost always opposite of what he means.”

Galvorn just shook his head. “I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.”

Gray faced his half-brother. “Don’t let it bother you. You need to keep your focus on Zivën. He should be your only concern at this very moment.”

“You’re right.” Galvorn drew his shoulders back and kept his head high. “Come on, we don’t want to be late for this.” Without another word, the four warrior-assassins stepped into the dark corridors.

*    *    *   *    *

To the dark elves, a Blademaster was both an honorary title and military rank. Any duel with a Blademaster involved had become a highly ritualized affair, not that it had originally been that way but the Svartálfar had slowly formalized the whole ordeal. Typically speaking, any challenge that was issued in Avaris or Timgâd had to be witnessed by three members of the city council and mediated by another Blademaster. Of course the two rival cities didn’t agree on many other aspects of the duel; such as the duties of the Second or how long a delay before the duel could commence or even how long the duel could last.

However, the basic rules of the duel were actually very simple. Each contestant had to have a Second that would step in to defend the contestant if attacked by anyone other than the duelist. It was the mediator’s duty to oversee the duel and declare a winner. This was usually easy since duels with a Blademaster only ended in the death of one of the combatants or when one called
‘concedo’
the dark elven term for surrender. Not even the mediator could step in and declare a winner. It was one or the other.

There was only one other stipulation concerning the duel which was universal, the fight had to take place in total darkness. Since dark elves had the natural ability of dark sight, they accomplished this feat by blindfolding the two opponents. This was also a duty of the Second and the Mediator. The Seconds would tie on the blindfold while the Mediator would certify its placement and effectiveness.

Galvorn and Gray waited patiently in the sands of the Lüdüs Lupus. If either of them were nervous, no one could tell since they both just sat down, folded their hands and closed their eyes. They were the epitome of calmness. Khan and Rjani silently stood beside them but both fidgeted constantly.

It was nearly an hour later when Zivën arrived. The two Sicárii weren’t concerned. They had expected something like this. Arriving late to a battle is an acceptable strategy of warfare and one they had both used many times. But Zivën’s strategy misfired on him since Kieran hadn’t arrived and the Blademaster was forced to wait anyway. When the Sultan arrived, he immediately moved forward to stand between the two duelists.

Looking back and forth, he spoke the traditional question. “Zivën and Galvorn, are you aware of the conditions of this contest and are entering it of your own freewill and not by coercion from some outside force?”

They both answered. “Aye.”

“Aaron Kingslayer and Isengrim, you have been designated to be their seconds. Are you aware of the hazards of this position and vow to remain vigilant through the entire contest?”

The Kingslayer glared at Kieran since he used his first name and not his title or surname but still answered, “Aye.” Gray had waited until the Sultan looked at him before answering, as was the tradition.

Kieran looked up to the watching students and asked in a loud voice, “And do you all vow to bear witness to this historical event?”

The entire gathering answered as one, “Aye!”

“I, Kieran, formally known as the Sultan of Otrar, swear to act as mediator and will attest the results of this duel to the Council of Shadows at its conclusion.” The rogue held out two pieces of red cloth and nodded to the Headmaster and Gray. “Seconds, apply the blindfolds.”

Gray reached over and received the blindfold and inspected it. It was nothing special, just a simple piece of red fabric, nothing fancy but extremely effective. Folding over a few times, he tied it over his half-brother’s eyes and made sure it was secure. Aaron Kingslayer glared at his subordinate as he took the cloth. It seems that he had already folded a blindfold of black cloth but now was unable to use it.

Gray was certain Kieran had chosen red cloth for the blindfold to disrupt any plans of cheating that Zivën and Aaron Kingslayer had come up with, like folding a piece of black cloth in such a way that a dark elf’s infravision could still see through.

Once the blindfolds were in place, Kieran inspected them before nodding. A simple gesture told the Seconds that it was time to move back.

“When you hear the gong, the duel will commence. May the most skilled win.”

Zivën spoke through clenched teeth. “I’m going to gut you from ear to ear.”

Galvorn grinned. “Is that the most inventive threat you can come up with? Wow, you are pitiful and stupid. That doesn’t even make sense.”

Clang!

The gong echoed through the arena and the two warriors were in motion.

Chapter 37

Darnac was in constant motion as the lycanthropes leapt at him from out of the heavy mist.

He had killed the first two werebeasts that had attacked him, of that he was certain, but since there were so many of them and he had to keep moving, he had no choice but to switch tactics. No longer was he trying to kill his attackers, his only stratagem at this point was to wound them and stay mobile.

Several of the werebears had tried to grab him and pull him into a life-crushing hug. But the deadly Blademaster proved time and time again that he was too nimble. Spying a large pile of boulders nearby, Darnac leapt to the top of one and slashed off the right hand a werewolf that had been trying to block him. Out of the corner of his eye, the Blademaster saw that Blackfang and his two bodyguards were rushing to intercept him. Considering the haphazard way the lycanthropes threw themselves at him as he reached the rocks, Darnac guessed there was something special about these boulders.

For a scant few seconds he had a lull in the battle since he was out of immediate reach of the closest lycanthropes but they were moving fast and all that was about to change. Scanning the boulders, he spied some marks scratched into the surface of the rock. Taking a step closer, he recognized it as an ancient rune for danger….not that it helped him.

At the same instant he realized that the markings were runes, he felt the ground underneath him give way and he was falling. Actually that wasn’t true. The ground didn’t open up or a hidden door slide out from underneath him, the rock itself became
insubstantial and ghost-like. Darnac found that couldn’t leap away since there was nothing to push off from and he continued to sink into the murky boulder. He flailed about but was unable to slow his descent. When he reached about neck level, the boulder re-solidified and the Blademaster found himself stuck fast with only his head and hands above the now solid rock. Darnac struggled with all his might but to no avail, he was entombed inside the boulder.

Cruel laughter filled the misty valley.

Darnac looked around and every lycanthrope had stopped their assault and were laughing. Well, almost everyone. The wereboar to Blackfang’s right kept his head lowered in shame.

“You are so predictable,” said Blackfang as he moved closer and out of Darnac’s
direct line of sight for a second.

Darnac twisted his head as far as he could but still couldn’t see the cursed lycanthrope. Suddenly, Blackfang was there, behind him with one hand on his chin and the other on the back of his head. It wouldn’t take anything to give his head a little twist and snap his neck.

Darnac had always wondered what it would be like to truly face his death. He’d been in tight situations before but had always been able to fight or think his way out. But then, he’d never been encased in solid rock and have an angry werewolf with his hands on his neck. It didn’t look good for him. He vaguely wondered if his necklace would explode with his death. He hoped so; it would be poetic to kill his killer with the device that bound him to Lalith.

Blackfang twisted ever-so slightly and lowered his snout until he was breathing right into the dark elf’s ear. “Do you realize how easy it would be to kill you right now?”

“Yes.”

“Good…because maybe you’ll appreciate how difficult it is for me to not to give your head a little twist. Pop! And you’re dead.” Blackfang leaned back and took a deep breath. “But your death needs to be slow and painful, not quick and merciful.” He reached out and plucked the twin Swords of Destiny out of the helpless hands of the Blademaster. “You were wrong. I didn’t have to kill you to take your swords. I just needed to defeat you. Rage and Sorrow are now mine. With their power, even Lalith will bow before me.”

Darnac watched as the scarred werewolf took the ancient swords through a series of blocks and strikes that were dazzling to behold. Every lycanthrope in view dropped to their knees in awe. It seems he had underestimated the weapon skills of Blackfang.

Thrusting the blades into his belt, Blackfang turned back to face his rival. “Your punishment will be to remain entombed in this rock until you die from hunger or thirst. No one under my command will aid you. I know that this will hurt you more than anything else in the world. To lie there helpless, praying for death. All the while knowing that it was your failure that will bring about the end of the Dark Alliance but also entrench my reign.”

Blackfang lifted his snout to the moon and howled.

All around him, the Hok’ee joined their voices with his. They yelled, cheered, grunted and howled in victory and the ominous sounds echoed off the distant valley walls.

Darnac silently watched as the lycanthropes turned around one by one and disappeared into the darkness. For a brief second, the Blademaster imagined that the wereboar lingering at the cave entrance but his view was blocked by other lycanthropes. When they moved, he was gone.

Had he only imagined it?

Lowering his head, Darnac realized the harsh truth of his situation…he was alone and trapped.