Warrior Blind (13 page)

“You cannot deny him any longer, Bron. It is wearing on you both. In a time when you and he need be at your strongest.” He hugged her. “As our older brother is so fond of putting it,
trust the goddess.
She has only our best in her heart. And she picked him for you. To deny him dishonors her. And I doubt that is something you want. Since you are the little sister of her soul. She would not want you this unhappy. Do not let the past, and your fear, keep you from the one who would love you. Our days on this world are far too short to spend them alone. Take it from one who has been alone for four hundred and fifty years. Go ask your Eaudne that, if you need more reassurance.”

She knew in her heart that Thadd was right. How could she not?

Bronwen had her mate before her.

It was foolish and cowardly to keep denying that.

The hill they’d avoided was a grown over bunch of rocks, riddled with trenches and even sink holes. Koios found that out when his leg went two feet down in a hole, taking the rest of him with it.

He cursed as he pulled himself up. “We need tread carefully here. I do not think we will find what it is we seek here.”

Dell, Conmor, and Phan agreed. They were all three seasoned warriors who had been in far rougher conditions than Dekimos City before.

Conmor was the son of two farmers, who’d turned warrior five hundred years ago. “This ground would not support even a sageplant, hardy damned vines though they be. Odd, isn’t it, that the rest of this area be so lush with vegetation, but this one be barren and desolate?”

“In every land there are deserts and jungles. I do not see why this should be so different,” Dell said as he studied the land around them. “We have seen such before.”

It wasn’t so much the lack of growing things that had Koios apprehensive. There was something
else
about the place that had his instincts humming. “I think this is a place we shall leave be.”

He had not made it twelve hundred years without stumbling upon evil within the ground. And this felt as the same.

“Leave this place, and see that others avoid it as well. I will speak with Phaenna about it on the morrow.”

Conmor nodded. “The soil here has been damaged, leached by only that which can be evil and dark. It is best we leave this place as we found it.”

“Too late.”

Conmor was thrown to the ground, and began writhing upon the soil.

Something that Koios at first thought was a snake or reptile of some sort slithered out of the ground and formed into a man. He stood between Koios and the fallen warrior.

Koios brought up the Midreno sword in front of him. “Explain yourself!”

“Do I need explain? This is my place, the land within which my soul rests. And yet you walk upon me with little caution and little respect.”

“What is it that you demand?” Koios studied his foe. The male was as large as he was, but there was something reptilian about his movements. He was neither demon nor anything else that Koios could identify. Was he native to this world? Why had Phaenna not warned him?

“It is simple. I demand souls. Souls to nourish my own. You and your men, you will just wet my appetite, I think. I know who you are, King Koios of Relaklonos. And I know of your queen. And of the souls that you now guide. You should know this, if the Dark Sorcerer comes for you, you cannot escape.”

“Are you saying you are he?” Would it be that easy for him to have found the one they sought? Koios did not believe in the easy, not anymore. Not since his foolish youth. “Identify yourself.”

“None have known my identity in thousands of years. I am not to share that power with you.” The creature’s grin was pure evil. “But I will have your female calling out my name when I am in her bed this eve. Are you prepared for that, King Koios of nowhere?”

With a wave of his staff, a gnarled wooden piece of black, the creature had a
something
knocking Koios to the ground, had Dell and Phan on their knees gasping for air.

Koios pulled his Midreno sword up and met the eyes of the sorcerer. “You think we would just run like cowards? We are warriors, and we fight!”

“You are foolish, led by some sort of honor that only those such as you can know. What gets you from it? Riches, loyalty? But I can get those with just a simple shift of power. I could have you begging at my feet.”

“Then prove it. Or is your only defense pitiful words?” Koios knew he challenged the male, and knew it was only a matter of time before he would feel the first strike against his skin.

Was this what the Four Destinies his Bronwen spoke about had in mind for him? Was he to fall so soon before the dark sorcerer who still remained unnamed? “Come then. Bring your weapon. Bring it against the King of Lothicanos, and now King of the Great City of Dekimos! I fight in the name of Dekimos, always!”

Koios charged. If nothing else he could provide the distraction that the others needed to get the wounded out of the city. To get Bronwen to safety. Phaenna and Eaudne would protect her, no matter what. He had no doubt of that.

But he needed to drive the sorcerer back, to keep him occupied as long as he possibly could. It was the only way that he could see.

His blade struck the staff the sorcerer carried, and the clash resonated down into his arm and chest.

He’d suspected it wasn’t an ordinary walking stick, and he could feel the power that ran through it now.

If he had any chance of living through this confrontation he would need to separate the sorcerer from the staff.

He studied his opponent as Midreno met staff time and time again. The creature he fought was far older than he was, and definitely more skilled.

But he was weak. He favored one side more than the other, much like the Laquazzeana Eaudne who feared him so. Koios switched tactics, and deliberately aimed blows in that area.

He could hear Conmor and the others approaching, could hear the shouting. He wanted to yell at them to stay back. Something in the sorcerer’s eyes shifted, and he aimed his staff in Phan and Dell’s direction. Black something shot out of the end of it, and then Dell was down. His skin was aflame. Koios roared and charged again, hoping to pull the sorcerer’s attention back to him.

Why would the sorcerer use the staff in that manner against the other warriors, but not Koios?

He struck out again, and this time his blade sank deep into the sorcerer’s side.

He was rewarded with a harsh yell of pain and anger. The staff swung toward Koios’ head, power emanating from it again. Something knocked Koios to the ground.

He raised his sword arm to his face—his nose was bleeding. And if he wasn’t mistaken, so were his eyes. He wiped the blood away with his forearm.

It mingled with the sorcerer’s from where it had sprayed across the hilt.

Steam rose from the mix.

Koios almost dropped the sword right there when it began to burn in his hand. To heat and glow red with flame.

The clouds overhead darkened, the day going almost to night in an instant. Koios pulled himself back up to his feet. The sorcerer swung the staff around in front of his own body. His eyes were black and fathomless when he stared at Koios.

The staff burned a cold blue.

It was now or it was never. Koios yelled and ran toward the sorcerer.

Burning sword met flaming staff.

Sparks erupted around them. Koios fought to hold onto the Midreno metal. He wrapped two hands around the hilt, his left smearing the mingled blood until it coated his palm.

He pushed with everything he had, until the staff was bending back, and he was overtaking the sorcerer.

He didn’t dare feel hope.

The sword was burning his flesh. Or was it the mingled blood?

He did not know.

The staff fractured in two.

The sorcerer cursed.

Koios struck out with the blade. The sorcerer’s right arm fell to the ground and withered into dust before his eyes.

The sorcerer grabbed out with his left hand and yanked on Koios’ tunic.

The earth shattered beneath him.

WHEN
Koios opened his eyes he was being carried and every bit of his body burned.

“Am I dead?”

“Not quite. But half your men are. What were you thinking to enter that space?”

“I was thinking the ground looked fertile and I have ten thousand people in need of food.”

“Noble thoughts.”

“Who in the three hells are you?”

“You do not know? Your cry of allegiance awoke me.”

“I speak allegiance to no one except—” He stopped short. It was never a good idea to give an unknown—whether foe or not—information about those a warrior cared about.

“Yet you called out that you fight in my name. It piqued my curiosity. None have called my name allowed in three thousand years.”

Koios thought for a moment. “I claimed Dekimos.”

“And I am he.”

But how could he trust that? Dekimos was supposed to be long dead from the worlds. “Then tell me, Dekimos, what is the name of your mother?”

The male carrying him stopped walking and dumped Koios on the ground. “I speak of her not, warrior.”

“Then how am I to trust that you are the Great Healer?”

“Who called me that?”

Koios took a long look around. They were headed back to the city. And he could see his men dragging litters with bodies upon them a distance behind them. “The ones who are building that city. They call it Dekimos City, the City of the Great Healer.”

“Then they are all foolish then. There are no great healers. Not anymore.”

“Tell me, then. The name of the one who birthed you, and how many children came forth from her in your father’s lifetime?” He would not lead this male back to where Eaudne waited; not with him claiming to be her lost son.

That would be beyond cruel.”

“Twenty-one others. Two were twins.”

“A boy and a girl. Tell me their names.”

“What claim you to them? They are all dead now.”

“Maybe. But then again, maybe some of them are not. Or maybe some of them have been reborn.” Koios still had his Midreno sword, but it had changed now. Somehow. It was no longer the standard dark green of Midreno, but was a copper red. But the inlay and design was identical to what it had been. He gripped the hilt. “Identify yourself more fully so that I can determine whether you are the son of the one I think, or whether you are imposter.”

“I have not spoken my mother’s name aloud in millennia. What think you that you are deserving enough to hear it?”

“Because if you are in truth her son, then I would seek reunite you. But if you are imposter I will strike you dead.”

“You and who else? Warrior, you could not even fight the specter of the dark bastard who killed so indiscriminately all those years ago. And he did not manage to kill me. Nothing has ever managed to, obviously.”

And Koios heard the bitterness then. He clutched his sword and brought it up between them. “Tell me the name of your mother. Lest we fight this day.”

“And if my answer is satisfactory, will that appease you?” There was no caring in the male’s eyes, no interest in what Koios had to say. Why? And why had the male carried him with such ease, when Koios knew he was a large heavy warrior?

“It will allow you into the city. After that, you can be sorted out.”

“If I want into the city, I shall go into it. No one will stop me.” The male disappeared.

“What trick is this?” He certainly wasn’t the first Koios had ever seen do that. He would not react to petty pranks. “Show yourself.”

The man reappeared. He bowed a mocking bow. And looked at Koios out of yellow cat-like eyes. “I am Dekimos Dardaptos, second son of the king of Evelanedea and his bride. Her name was Eaudne.”

Koios stared at him for a moment. “And the name of those twins you claim kinship to?”

“It has been so long, maybe I have forgotten?”

They both knew it was a lie. “How do I know you are not the dark sorcerer himself disguised to seek out the ones who survived his evil so long ago?”

“You do not. But if I were he I could have killed you hours ago. And none but I survived him that day.”

“Tell me the name of that brother and sister.”

“Kennera was as fair as any flower. Her twin Jushua a great prankster with the broad shoulders of our father, and the golden hair of our mother.” He moved, and Koios found himself pinned to the ground with the creature over the top of him, and a large dagger through the flesh of his side, pinning him and the material to the ground. The male had his hand on Koios neck, and the air was cut off so easily. “Now tell me this, why do you ask these questions? Their names were erased from all histories the day the dark sorcerer consumed them. Why and how do you know them?”

Koios looked into the man’s gold eyes. There was something there...something he had seen before. In Eaudne’s eyes. And in Bronwen’s before all sight had been lost. Something that his instincts were telling him were genuine. “Because when the fires of the Three Hells burned through your world, some survived. Eaudne, Jushua, Kennera, and the druidic female Nelciana.”