Spirit of the Sword: Pride and Fury (The First Sword Chronicles Book 1) (43 page)

The gate exploded.

Through the smoke and the splinters strode the Unstoppable Man, a falcata in his right hand, while his left hand glowed with a power not unlike that which Miranda called upon to save lives. His face was hidden by the long, dark cloak which hung down his back. His leather cuirass was covered in blood, and more blood pooled around his feet, flooding the street from all the men he had slaughtered outside.

"Empress' grace defend us and her spirit give us courage," Princess Romana murmured.

The killer they called the Unstoppable Man paused in the ruined gateway, as if he were soaking up the fear of all who gazed upon him.

"At long last," he murmured, and Miranda could have sworn she recognised his voice. "Justice will come to the Empire."

"Archers!" Lucifer yelled, and two dozen archers loosed arrows, including a six foot tall fellow named Teucer who fired a bow that was as tall as he was. All the arrows flew straight and true towards their target, who simply leapt out of the way with catlike grace, as though to do so was child's play to him. As the darts clattered on the stone of the courtyard, the Unstoppable Man began to charge forward with such swiftness that Miranda wondered if he was a man at all, and not some god like Beltor returned to earth to wreak havoc upon sinful men.

"Magic!" Lucifer called, and fireballs and lightning bolts shot out from the ranks of the Lost, stones flew through the air, air mages called up all the winds at their command.

Wands and staffs were drawn, and to the Black Abyss with the opinion of the Novar church as magic of all kinds lashed out towards this killer who had come to take their lives.

It was not enough. The Unstoppable Man dodged every ball of fire, sliced rocks in half with his sword, withstood the winds as though he were a mountain, and even as he dodged and dived the arrows and the spells he did not stop his advance, but kept on closing the distance to the Lost.

Lucifer's arm began to glow with an orange light as he pointed it at the assassin. "In the name of Arus, Lord of Fire, Thanates, Mistress of the Air, and Stratus, Lightning Lord, I dedicate this act of mine: thirteen arrows of light!"

Thirteen arrows of dazzling brightness shot from Lucifer's iron hand and sped towards the Unstoppable Man. They caught him as he had finished avoiding a shot from Teucer's great bow, and for once this man of dazzling speed had no time to react. The Lost cheered as Miranda shut her eyes...and then their cheers were turned to cries of dismay as the Unstoppable Man strode out of the explosion unharmed.

"With your permission, Lord Father," Metella murmured. She was the only warrior who did not seem unnerved by the assassin's inhuman abilities. In fact her tone had not altered a whit from its usual placid calm.

"Hold fast," Quirian replied.

That did trouble Metella. Her brow creased minutely, but she said nothing.

"Hold fast," Lucifer shouted, echoing his master without realising. "Make ready for melee!"

The Unstoppable Man, his cloak not even ruffled, began to charge. Pericles ran to meet him, shield held before him, sword raised, but the assassin pierced through shield, cuirass and body with a single stroke. Tyndareus threw a spear at him, but the Unstoppable Man caught it and threw it back so hard it struck him in the chest and hurled him back ten feet. Astareus attacked with two swords, whirring them wildly and screaming as he came on, but the implacable adversary split one of his blades in half with a sword stroke and laid a hand on Astareus' arm. The glow of the Unstoppable Man's hand intensified and Astareus' arm exploded; he fell back screaming as his severed stump flopped upon the courtyard like a fish dragged from the ocean.

He kept on coming. Magic, spell, sword or spear, none could touch him. He cut down Demodocus, who played the lyre in the evenings, and with his power he blew the head off Faecenia, who helped Miranda create new golems. Agricola and Timoleon died, Clodia and Geta were wounded. Valentinian was impaled, Briseis had her chest blown open. The ground was slaked in the blood of the fallen, and the air was filled with the cries of those who were left to perish more slowly.

Then he leapt at Lydia, and when she used her lightning like a whip to lash at him he caught it in his naked hand, holding the magic still for a moment before wrenching it from Lydia's grasp, the lightning flickered and the died in the hands of the Unstoppable Man.

"Lord Father," Metella's voice was louder now, more insistent. "Give me leave."

"No," was all Quirian said.

He charged at her, Lydia recoiled in horror, before a fireball passed in front of his face, thrown his way by Cebriones.

Miranda's fire-magic tutor looked incredibly nervous, but he stood his ground as the Unstoppable Man turned his way. "I'd rather go first," Cebriones muttered.

The Unstoppable Man looked at him for a moment, nodded in concession of the point, then attacked.

Cebriones hurled another fireball. The Unstoppable Man ploughed through as though it were nothing. Again and again Cebriones threw fire, and again and again it did not so much as singe his opponent. The Unstoppable Man leapt up into the air, sword raised to slice Cebriones in half.

Lucifer tackled Cebriones to one side, pushing him out of the way and knocking him to the ground. With the Unstoppable Man in mid-leap, unable to dodge, Lucifer raised his sorcerous arm.

"To Arus and to Stratus, to Thanates the Swift and to Riate, Eldest and Highest, do I dedicate my deeds," Lucifer cried in triumph. "Spring forth my Ultimate Spear!"

A beam of light as thick as a tree-trunk erupted from Lucifer's arm. The Unstoppable Man twisted in mid air, hanging there like a bird on the wing or a fish in the sea his body contorting to avoid the deadly blast in defiance of all sense and reason, in spite of the fact that there was nothing for him to hang on to. The beam died down and he was unharmed.

"This must be a nightmare," Miranda murmured. "For it cannot be real."

"It's real enough," Romana said darkly.

The Unstoppable Man fell on Lucifer. Lucifer raised his sword to block the descending blow. The assassin retreated a step, then attacked with the same impossible speed. Miranda had watched numerous battles in the arena back home and she had never seen anybody move this fast, or with such strength. Michael on his best day, Peter the Lion in his prime, Daniel the Destroyer, none of them could have matched this man for speed or strength. His blade clashed with the sword of Lucifer, and Lucifer's spatha shattered from the blow. Lucifer stumbled backwards from the sword's deadly edge, bringing up his arm.

"In the name of Riate, Eldest and Highest-"

The Unstoppable Man grabbed his metal arm about where the elbow would have been. "You talk too much."

Lucifer's arm exploded, fragments of metal clattering to the ground as Lucifer recoiled.

The Unstoppable Man added, "And your dead gods cannot help you now. The only mercy that matters here is mine."

And then he rammed his sword into Lucifer's chest.

Lucifer gasped as he fell backwards and landed on the cold, uncaring stones of Quirian's courtyard. Miranda screamed as the assassin raised his sword for a second, final, blow.

Metella screamed too. But unlike Miranda, Metella screamed in raw fury as she charged forward - this time she did not ask Quirian for permission - her whole body glowing with ethereal light. Faster than the stormy waves she moved, catching the Unstoppable Man by surprise and driving him back across the bloodstained courtyard as she hurled herself on him with all her fury, her gladius and dagger gleaming as they waved in erratic, angry arcs as fleet as a hurricane.

"They may call you the Unstoppable Man," Metella snarled as she drove her enemy backwards before her. "But I know what you are, and I know how to kill you. All I have to do is cut out your heart!"

They duelled so swiftly and strongly that they might have been Silwa and Cupas battling in the skies above Heaven's Nest, not a man and a woman fighting with swords and knifes in the middle of Eternal Pantheia. Their movements could not be followed, and Miranda was amazed that they could keep up such pace for more than a few moments. All the fights she had witnessed in the arena, mere minutes of intense combat would leave the most hardened gladiator sweating, but neither showed any signs of slowing though their movements should have had them both gasping for breath by now.

Miranda tore her eyes away from the combat. There was no point in gawping. This was not the arena, and she could do more here than hope that nobody she cared for died. There were still people living on the battlefield, and Metella had given her time to save them.

She started to move forward as quickly as she could, pushing the nobles and equestrians aside. Their pride and posturing, their grand lineages, their money, none of it mattered in this place, at this moment, but her power did. She could do what none of them could.

"Miranda, wait for me!" Octavia called, but Miranda did not slow down. Though her legs burned, though her feet protested, she forced herself to practically run - where it not for her foot, she would have been sprinting - through the blood until she reached the side of Lucifer, whose chest still rose and fell even as his own blood engulfed it.

"That's right, captain, stay with me," Miranda muttered, dropping her stick and placing both hands over his chest. She called her power to her, using her new understanding of magic to comprehend better just what she was doing. Fire, to clean the wound. Water, to soothe the pain. Lightning, to keep him awake. Sorcery and gods knew what else to grow his flesh again. She called them all, and let the light of her power engulf him as his wound began to close, his flesh growing back where the blade had pierced it. "I'm afraid I don't have time to make you good as new, you're going to have a scar; I hope you don't mind."

Lucifer chuckled nervously. He still had his silver mask on, but Miranda found she could imagine him smiling.

Miranda chuckled too. "That's it. Everything is going to be fine. You'll see."

"Metella!" Lucifer croaked.

Miranda's head whipped round, just in time to see Metella misstep in her furious duel against the Unstoppable Man, who produced a dagger like a street magician and rammed it through her leather cuirass and into her heart.

"I know how to stop you as well," he said.

Metella stood before him for a moment, an old tree standing tall before the storm because it is too old and rigid to bend, and then her legs buckled beneath her and she fell to her knees, then collapsed onto her side.

In a flash, the Unstoppable Man was standing over Miranda, one hand gleaming with ethereal power, and Miranda could see that it was Lysimachus' face beneath the hood, both eyes blue now, both eyes burning with cold fury as he gazed upon with a disdainful snarl.

"Lysimachus?" Miranda murmured. "Why?"

"Justice, Filia," he said coldly. "The sins of this land must be paid for."

"Get away from her!" Octavia yelled, hurling a blast of air at him so powerful that even he, who had withstood so much magic on this night, was pushed backwards by it. Octavia ran straight at him, not with her sword out but with her hands outstretched as though she meant to grapple with him like a wrestler.

"I'm sorry for not telling you about this Miranda," Octavia said.

"About what?" Miranda asked. "What are you doing?"

"About this," Octavia said, and her blouse ripped as a pair of beautiful tawny wings, each eight feet across, erupted from her back, from the lump that so disfigured her. Those wings flapped furiously as Octavia raced towards Lysimachus, and Miranda realised what she meant to do: lift Lysimachus into the air and drop him from a great height.

Oh, you sweet, brave fool.

"Don't do it," Miranda yelled. "He's much too fast, he'll-"

Even before Miranda could say so, Lysimachus had struck faster than any snake and severed one of Octavia's arms at the elbow. She screamed in high-pitched pain as he flung her aside with a contemptuous backhand blow.

Slowly, Lysimachus advanced towards Miranda.

But then the ground began to shake, and a shadow briefly blocked out the moonlight as one of Miranda's golems stepped firmly over her and the prone Lucifer to stand between her and Lysimachus.

Soon Lysimachus was surrounded by a dozen golems, their faces impassive, their fists always clenched. They formed a ring of stone enclosing him, while Lysimachus made no move but merely regarded them warily.

"Kill him," Quirian commanded, his voice full of cold command. "But save his head."

Lysimachus charged, but he seemed slower now, closer to human. His sword skittered off the stone without so much as scratching it. He lashed out with the hand that had taken so many lives, but it did nothing. A blow from one golem lifted him up into the air and dropped him on his back upon the courtyard stone. Another golem raised his foot and stamped upon him, crushing his legs beneath the weight brought to bear upon them. Then the golem circle closed in, like crows descending upon carrion, their great fists rising and falling, tearing and pulling.

Lysimachus did not cry out once as they tore him to piece.

Miranda saw no need to watch her creations go about their grisly work. She crawled over to where Octavia lay, her eyes unfocussed.