The White Dragon (10 page)

“I thought you dealt in fact,” Eric shot back at hearing that last remark. “The gods are superstition and not something I thought you’d consider as history.”

It was Diamedes’ turn to shrug. “Perhaps, perhaps not. What would you say if you found out that the Mother and the Father were simply names given to represent worlds and not actual gods?”

“Some would call that blasphemy, and I’d not say that around that holy warrior woman.” Lucius spoke forcibly.

“But not our good Eric here; he understands differently, does he not?” Diamedes said.

“Hang on a second, I wasn’t saying I did or did not believe in any of the gods, so don’t put words in my mouth,” Eric protested.

“The northmen consider dragons to be gods.” Diamedes looked forward at the road.

“Some of them do,” Eric said, having had experience with the clans of barbarians far to the north of them.

“So are they right or are they wrong?”

“I still don’t see your point,” Eric countered, looking forward and changing the subject. “There it is.”

In the distance, a large rock the size of a small hill stood on the grassy plain as if thrown there by one of the aforementioned gods in anger. It was very reddish in hue, though not exactly the bright red of blood, but enough so that it gave the locals a reason to anoint it with an entertaining name.

“Blood Rock,” Lucius said. “Do you think those raiders are there waiting for us?”

“I don’t know, but I hope that our good Fist and your daughter have arrived before us,” Diamedes said.

“If not, then it was a pleasure to have met you, Master Historian,” Lucius said, turning his neck to look at the man and nod in satisfaction.

“Let’s not get too pessimistic,” Diamedes said. “Remember what our young Master Eric noted not more than a few minutes ago.”

“What did I note?” Eric asked.

“The fact that I keep strange company.” Diamedes smiled.

“I can think of nothing that could frighten any soul more than my ex accompanied by a holy warrior from Tynria and an assassin from Balaria.”

“Agreed,” Diamedes said, as Lucius frowned but remained silent.

“There they are, just like that spy said they would be,” the second raider said.

Argos nodded, keeping his hand up to his eyes to shade them. “They will arrive here in less than half an hour at that pace.” The man turned to a third companion in a white cloak that stood out in the grassy and rocky crags of the wild lands where they were waiting. “You sure your services are needed here? Seems like overkill for three wayward peasants.”

The man held on to a metallic staff with a beautiful gemstone set into its tip. The raider’s first thought was how much coin that huge gem would fetch in one of Balaria’s black markets. Then, a simple look at the man attached to the gemstone and staff, and it was obvious that life was more precious than death, for a Kesh wizard commanded the power in that stone and would not part with it without a fight.

“If the mage is correct, then our spy will be bringing a party of killers for you.” The wizard spoke matter-of-factly as if their death would be assured and his survival likewise.

“Why would he double-cross us?” Argos asked, stepping back into the crevice where the trio stood, ensuring he was in the shade of the sun.

“Not you, but my order,” the wizard said.

“What are you getting at?” the second-in-command said, forgetting for a moment with whom he was speaking. Argos visibly grimaced at the lack of tact in his companion, and hoped the Kesh wizard wouldn’t do something hasty.

The wizard never looked at the man, instead watching the approaching riders far away. “There are those who work with us and those who work against us. This man, the spy as you refer to him, could easily kill all of you single-handedly. That is why I am here. You need help against one of Seth the Sword Slayer’s hand-picked assassins.”

“I knew there was something about him,” Argos said, feeling a shudder down his spine.

“Hardly,” his second scoffed. “You almost picked a fight with him last night.”

“A fight you all would never have survived,” the wizard said. “Now the real question is where is he and who is he bringing?”

“You’re saying that local spy is a Balarian assassin and he’s bringing other killers with him to ambush us?”

“You are most astute,” the wizard said.

Argos wasn’t sure if the man was mocking him or praising his ability to quickly comprehend the situation, but based on what he knew about the Kesh in general, he’d bet all his money that the man was mocking. “Then we best check on the rest of our group and ensure that the double-crosser isn’t anywhere near us.”

The wizard gave a slight nod but didn’t move. Instead, he pulled out a small glass ball that glowed a light blue in color. It was his critir, and he set the butt of his staff on the ground and allowed it to lean into his shoulder, his arm keeping it upright, allowing him to hold the critir in one hand and rub it with the other. Shortly, the colors inside swirled a mixture of blue, green, and brown, and the man’s eyebrows raised as a look of surprise crossed his face.

“What is it?” the second said.

“Yes, is something wrong?” Argos asked.

The wizard looked up and frowned. Taking a moment to look at both men, the first time he had looked at Argos’ second-in-command all day, he spoke, and his words sent a chill down their spines. “I’m afraid to say they have already arrived. Death has come for you.”

The trio of men quickly headed back behind the craggy outcroppings that were overshadowed by Blood Rock, looking for the Balarian double-crosser and any companions he would be bringing with him. They didn’t have to look far, as the sounds of steel on steel suddenly reverberated throughout the rocky crags and cliffs.

As they finished navigating the narrow, craggy draws of the area, they entered into a small, flat flood plain where they had left their men earlier. There were twice the number as the night before, a half-dozen having joined the raider group when the Kesh wizard arrived. Two of the twelve were already dead as the trio stepped into the open and faced two women flanking a man in a black hooded cloak.

The larger of the two women was to their left, and engaged with three Kesh in a sword battle. Her bright plate armor and shield stood out against the dull arms and leather armor of the raiders, and her sword, a single-handed broadsword, was half again as long as theirs. The gold-inlaid etching on her breastplate of a human fist told them all they needed to know about her, a Fist of Astor.

The other woman had leather armor and wielded two short swords, one in each hand, with ease, whirling and slashing with them as she also engaged several Kesh in a running battle, despite her cheap clothing that was stained with various marks as it peeked out from under the overly tight leather that protected her.

Two more of the raiders fell right in front of them, crossbowmen, they were, when the cloaked man hurled his small but deadly daggers at them, catching them both in fatal areas, one in the eye and the other in the neck. The only chance the raiders had was to fan out, the two leaders who were the best fighters and the Kesh wizard in the middle to engage the Balarian assassin.

As was typical with the Kesh, the wizard condemned his opponent as he prepared his magic. “You dare betray us, Zokar?”

Zokar shrugged after tucking one of his next two blades back into its sheath attached to his leather baldric that crossed his chest and back, using the free hand to grab a small flash grenade from his belt pouch. “’Tis nothing when compared to the Kesh betrayal of half of Agon’s realms.”

“Your stupid ruse at Razor Rock will be for naught, assassin,” Kelee said, planting his staff and summoning the charged particles in the air to prepare a lightning strike on his opponent.

The Balarian hurled his small blade at the wizard, where it crossed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Despite his elderly appearance, the Kesh moved his staff faster than the eye could see, deflecting the dagger as it harmlessly ricocheted out of sight behind him.

“Only if you live to tell your master,” Zokar said, shifting his weight and raising the hand with the magic marble in it.

“Umeri!” Kelee commanded, pointing the tip of his staff at the Balarian assassin and letting loose a killing bolt of lightning at the same time that the man hurled his small trinket at the hard, rocky ground between them.

The magical flash grenade lit the area in a blinding flash of light as an unnatural amount of smoke exploded from the device, concealing everything in a twenty-foot radius. This did not deter the magic-user, however, as he followed through in his attack. The lightning bolt discharged into the smoke, headed right through where the Balarian was last seen.

Zokar had somersaulted forward and to his left at the nearest raider who was stunned by the dual blasts near him. The bolt of energy vaporized the smoke through which it passed and slammed into a rock a good two-dozen feet behind where the Balarian killer was last standing, blowing the rock into hundreds of flying pieces of shrapnel that littered the area and wounded several of the raiders, as well as bloodied the exposed flesh of the holy warrior where a small piece had cut her left ear. The resulting sonic boom roiled through the air for leagues.

With a quick draw during the somersault, Zokar thrust his newly freed blade into the surprised raider’s heart, killing the man instantly. He pulled his blade free and stepped back.

Things were quickly turning worse for the raiders. Both Gabby and Alexi managed to either wound or deliver killing blows to two of their three attackers, leaving only one raider for each of them, not including the two leaders or the mage. It was down to a two-to-one ratio for the raiders in a matter of seconds, but that didn’t tell the measure of the odds, as a Kesh wizard and a Fist of Astor were involved. This skewed the odds considerably.

“You are slower than expected.” Zokar taunted the wizard, moving back into the ring of smoke to conceal himself from the Kesh.

Kelee returned the gesture. He was, after all, a Kesh wizard. “And your skills have weakened with age, it would appear.” With another command and an upward move of his staff, the wizard sent a wave of air forward, the forced wind clearing the last remains of the Balarian’s smoke grenade.

“Very nice,” Zokar said, nodding at the Kesh.

“I see you,” Kelee replied, an evil grin coming over the man’s face as he pointed his staff downward and forward, directly at the Balarian.

Zokar kicked up some dirt in front of him, not a lot but enough to be noticeable, and pulled a small handful of sand from one of his many pouches at his belt. He hurled the few grains of sand forward and into the dirt, mixing the two. The dirt and sand by themselves would not be enough to conceal the assassin from the wizard, but the sand was also of a magical nature, and as it came into contact with the dirt particles, it forced them to multiply by the hundreds and then the thousands.

Within a couple of seconds, there was a virtual wall of floating dirt, sand, and dust between the two men, obscuring vision in both directions. This seemed to be expected of the Kesh, as they had a good understanding of the weapons and resources available to their Balarian brothers.

With a command, “Ogon!” Kelee allowed another weapon of destruction to release from the tip of his staff, a fireball that spread larger as it flew into and then through the suspended sheet of dirt and dust. The vaporized particles were blown clear, and the ball of fire was too big to miss the assassin.

Zokar whirled his cloak over his body and threw himself to the ground right as the immense ball of fire passed over him. The intense heat from the flames ignited parts of his clothing and body, singing his cloak, but it remained basically unaffected. The fire attack was an area-based attack and did not require the precision of the electrical bolt. The Kesh seemed to anticipate correctly the tactical moves of his opponent.

Alexi slashed with her blade hard enough to finally dispatch the third raider, and in an effort of great physical strength, she kicked the second-in-command leader in his chest, knocking him backward and out of the fight. Bereft of any opponents, she quickly ran to the Balarian’s aid, crossing the dozen feet between them in a matter of seconds.

Kelee seemed not to notice at first, so intent was he on finishing the deed, that he pointed the staff again at the assassin, who was lying facedown in the dirt. “Time to die, traitor.” Gabby and Argos, who were both not exchanging blows with one another after she had taken out the last of her attacking raiders, took a moment to look to their side to see the spectacle unfolding.

The wizard’s gemstone glowed brightly again, and the hair on all their skin grew prickly as the static buildup could not be contained. With a final blow, a killing bolt of electricity flew at Zokar. The Fist reached the man in the proverbial nick of time, holding her shield in front of her.

The shield caught the full force of the energy attack. She screamed in pain as the impact bruised her forearm, which held the shield straps inside, threatening to fracture the bone underneath. “Mother curse you, Kesh,” she swore at the man.

This surprised the wizard, and he raised both eyebrows at the sight of a Fist of Astor, a holy warrior of impeccable honor, kneeling on one knee in front of a Balarian assassin, protecting the man. “By the Nine, if this isn’t rich,” Kelee said.

Zokar stirred suddenly and sprung to his feet, though he stayed low and sprawled out. His hair under his hooded cloak was smoking from where it was burned, and his arm sleeves, leathers, tunic and all, smoked from the near miss of the fireball. Only the cloak, which seemed immune to fire, remained unaffected. “What?”

Kelee was quick to respond to the wounded Balarian. “What, indeed,” he said, pointing the staff and letting loose another electrical attack.

Zokar ducked behind the Fist’s shield, and once again, the lightning bolt hit and then ricocheted off of the holy warrior’s shield, this time breaking her bone as the impact fractured the weakened forearm that held the shield. Alexi grimaced in pain, controlling herself so as not to cry out in weakness.

Zokar had gathered his wits and pulled one of his last two blades from behind his back during the attack. With the speed of a cat, he stood, bringing his right arm back and letting loose over the holy warrior’s head the dagger as it flew faster than the eye could follow right at the Kesh.

Suddenly, as if the magic-user’s staff had suddenly teleported to his other hand, the staff moved just as quickly, blocking the flying blade and deflecting it into the dirt in front of him, where it embedded itself up to its hilt in the rough ground below.

Kelee brought up his free hand, pointing a finger at Zokar and wagging it. “Tsk tsk.” He chided the killer. “You should know better by now, but I guess it takes a bit of time for a Balarian to learn such simple lessons, eh?” The wizard tilted his head and smiled much like a cat would at a rat. “Let us have a look at both of you.”

The Kesh spoke a word of command and peered through his gemstone at the pair. The precious stone emitted a blue ray of light in an arc at them, though when it hit them, it was painless and harmless. The gemstone magnified the Kesh’s eye, and the man smiled again as he looked at them through his magical gemstone.

“What sorcery is this?” Alexi managed to ask Zokar, who still stood behind her, her voice low.

The wizard answered for Zokar. “I simply wished to see what I am up against, and I can see that you wield a special shield, while our good Balarian brother has a magic cloak. I am sure these trinkets of yours cost dearly, but they will do you little good against the fire of Kesh. Now let us see you deflect this.”

Kelee pulled his staff away from his face and pointed the tip again at the pair. Gabby yelled, “No,” trying to free herself from Argos, who was fighting for dear life, his one blade against the woman’s two. Though shorter, they were nonetheless deadly.

Alexi stood, rising from her knee to face the wizard head-on. They stood at least two-dozen feet apart, and it was impossible to close the distance before the wizard unleashed the fireball that had nearly killed the Balarian minutes before. Her shield would defend, deflect, and protect her against the direct fire of the attack, but the intense heat that would engulf them both would ignite hair, skin, and clothing. There seemed to be little they could do to prevent their own deaths.

Zokar reached for his last magical marble, one that simply sent a blinding burst of light to stun would-be victims. It would have little to no effect on the Kesh wizard, who was wise to his tactics. With a final display of defiance, the Fist yelled a war cry and prepared to charge at the Kesh wizard with her broadsword tip first.

The staff pointed forward, and Kelee spoke his last words. “Ogon!”

The charged particles ignited the air in front of him, and in the exact same moment that they balled to be hurled forward, the tip of a sword emerged from the wizard’s chest, forcing the man to lean back and discharge the fatal ball of fire high into the air where its heat could clearly be felt as it passed them by.

Blood gushed from Kelee’s mouth, and his eyes glazed over, locking on to the pair in front of him. With a surprised look, his face stunned, the Kesh wizard slid off the blade and fell dead onto the ground. “Eric!” Gabby yelled, knocking the sword out of Argos’ hand, finally ending their singular duel at the same time, and running toward the man.

“Are we late?” Diamedes asked from the top of one of the crags that overlooked the battlefield.

“What in Agon happened here?” Lucius asked as he picked his way around the bodies and walked toward his Gabby, who now was standing next to Eric and eying him closely.

“Yes, you are late,” Gabby said, giving Eric a mock scowl and then embracing him with both blades still in her hands.