Escana (76 page)

The circled each other briefly,
the guard Captain always keeping him clear from the second blade and
tapping his belt as Hern drew closer to it. He knew if he were to
duck down to retrieve it that Yalem would spring a throwing knife on
him.

Why he hadn't tried to bury them
in Hern before was a mystery, was the man relishing the thought of
blade-on-blade combat? Anyone he had met who savoured such an idea
usually ended up dead, there was no such thing in this world as a
fair fight and Hern was determined to use that against the man
somehow.

He came at him with an even
greater speed than before, his blade dancing dangerously as Hern's
eyes tracked his every move. The blows rained down with torrential
strength and those that Hern could not avoid he was hurt from by
blocking. Leaping back and seeing no opening to counter, he realised
that his hand had gone numb from the impact. It was as if he were
being smelted and this darkened arena was Yalem's forge. It was all
he could do to keep the man from cutting him to pieces, such was the
ferocity of his attacks. Still, he hadn't scored a hit. Yet.

He approached the man cautiously
once more, waiting for the next assault to begin. This time it was
not forthcoming, he stuck out an arm and beckoned him onward as if
urging him to attack. Hern refused to oblige him, he had learnt long
ago never to value your own ability so highly that you would agree to
whatever your enemies tried to goad you into doing.

This frustrated Yalem into
another flurry of blows, Hern started to realise that his sword arm
would probably lose its grip on the blade before his opponent tired.
He needed to think of something quickly before that happened.

The roar that split the night air
distracted them, Re'tak had decided without their mind link that he'd
take matters into his own hands. Had Hern taken that long already?
They had agreed long before their arrival at Greyhawk that if he took
too long to dispatch the fort's populace Re'tak would assume the
guards were hounding him and that a diversion was required.

He struck out at Yalem, hoping to
catch him out in distraction. The man parried the blow effortlessly
as if he were embarrassed at the attempt and continued the assault.

Hern was starting to weary
quicker than usual, he had uncharacteristically failed to factor in
his swift recovery from injury and how that would impact on his
stamina. Re'tak had never explained how he had gone about healing
Hern's wounds or the effect a fight to the death would have upon his
newly healed body.

Yalem let out a yell and lashed
out not at Hern but the blade he was using to block his attacks. The
impact was more jarring than any of his previous efforts and it
twisted Hern's wrist painfully attempting to meet it with a parry.

He heard a screeching noise and
the slightest of thuds in the sand to his right, something had landed
on the ground after the latest attack but he couldn't afford to
examine what as the next strike came down on his weapon. Why was
Yalem targeting his weapon?

Then it became apparent as Hern
attempted to put some distance between them by lashing out at the man
and was instead met with a smile. Yalem had cut a large chunk of
Hern's blade off with the last two strikes, somehow rending the very
steel with his brute might. He now gripped his own sword in the style
of an executioner, clearly preparing to deliver the final blow. He
knew how he was going to beat this man now.

Hern cast aside the worthless
weapon and raised his hands in defence, causing Yalem's smile to
subside into confusion. No, he wouldn't have expected that.

This time he knew he had to press
the man while the element of surprise still held, summoning what
little reserves he could find he leapt forward and waited for the
blade to come arcing out at him.

Yalem obliged him and the strike
was fierce and easy for Hern to evade, tightening the gap between
them and giving the man less space and time to manoeuvre in. He aimed
a savage kick at the man's shin and it connected before the guard
Captain could bring the blade to bear. He followed this up with
another close-quarters dodge of the man's sword as it came swinging
back. Yalem had switched back to his previous single-handed grip and
was frantically trying to disable his opponent.

Hern lunged toward the man with
even greater urgency, hoping that he had been quick enough. The
cracking sound of his ribs indicated that the hilt had buried itself
in them. Yalem realised now what was happening and levelled a savage
headbutt at Hern's nose. It was too little too late, Hern had picked
his pocket and buried the throwing knife into the man's sternum.

Still Yalem struggled on,
hammering against Hern with the pommel of his blade and cracking
another rib before discarding the weapon entirely.

Hern staggered clear, holding his
side and watching the man die. At least that's what he hoped would
happen.

Instead Yalem showed no signs of
slowing, taking hold of his sword and advancing on Hern's position
with a murderous look of outrage in his eyes. As if Hern had
presented the audacity to attempt to harm him and now must pay the
price.

The assassin kept his distance,
refusing the man's every attempt to engage him and watching the
gushing trail of blood lead a winding path across the sand as the
guard Captain staggered after him.

With another yell, Yalem threw
his sword at Hern in frustration. The aim was true and the pommel
caught him a glancing blow on the head that staggered him
momentarily.

As he righted himself, he saw
Yalem dig his hands into his sternum and curl up into himself for a
moment before tearing the throwing knife out with a roar.

Hern hit the ground as fast as he
could manage as the projectile came racing through the air and
narrowly avoided him. He felt a burning sensation on the nape of his
neck as Yalem's stomach acids bit into his skin, it was then he knew
the man had no fight left in him.

He watched in disbelief as the
man dragged his way through the sand toward the location of Hern's
second blade. It was with genuine horror that Hern saw Yalem pull
himself up to his feet with the blade in hand and attempt to stagger
over to where his quarry lay.

There was no way the man could
still be standing, yet he was. The entrails hung limply from the gash
in his stomach as it leaked a sticky ichor that Hern had never seen
before.

He picked himself up groggily and
searched the sand for the nearby weapon, it had landed a short
distance from his position and provided that Yalem didn't break out
into a sprint he'd be able to get one good throw in.

He gripped the knife tightly and
rose from the floor of the arena to stare at whatever this creature
was that advanced upon him.

Measuring the shambling approach,
Hern threw the projectile with measured force at the head of the
thing known as Yalem.

It buried into the brow to the
hilt, halting its progress as its neck snapped back and ruined
whatever balance it had left. It toppled back into the sand and lay
still.

Hern let out a breath and waited,
there was no stirring from his opponent and he could vaguely make out
the sounds of struggle from close to the fort walls. Re'tak had
bought him time and now he had to make good and hope his friend could
handle the guards. He needed to find Dyson and put an end to
Greyhawk.

As he headed for the arena exit
he caught a stirring sound in the sand. The sound of splayed limbs
attempting to right themselves and form a pursuit.

He fled.

It followed.

T
he
trepidation as they approached the source of the shouting was
palpable. Rushing to the aid of the guards didn't seem like such a
great plan any more, especially without the aid of B-Company.

He felt the desert sand under his
feet, it clung to him as if resisting his every attempt to aid these
men in their desperate struggle. Or was it his mind telling him to
run while he could? It wouldn't be the first time the thought had
struck him. To where though? The same question popped up each time
and he had no response. Only one option gave him the chance at
living, if he were to hide the assassin would hunt him down, if he
were to run the desert would kill him. If the lizard didn't. At least
by advancing on the creature they may stand a chance of getting out
of this alive.

C-Company had hardly been
resolute when they had set out, their motivation being much the same
as Jimmy's. Now that they drew closer the fear was plain on their
faces, none of them wanted to lose their lives in spite of the way
they were treated at the fort.

The shouts had turned to moans by
the time they arrived, a cluster of men were trying to keep the
creature at a distance with their spears to no effect. It seemed to
be toying with them, drawing one man out of formation at a time and
striking quickly to both disarm and maim.

It was a lot worse than he
imagined, pieces of body littering the desert floor and men squealing
in agony as their life bled out between their fingers.

With a swipe of its tail the
creature sent another two men hurtling back into the palisade with
jarring impact. It bit at another, severing an artery with a
calculation that made Jimmy's heart feel cold.

As the numbers thinned so did the
opportunities for the guards to press, this was exploited mercilessly
by the creature who now took any number of men out with each attack.

Jimmy found himself looking down
at his short sword and feeling paralysed with fear, what good would
such a weapon be against a monster like this? If Garth were here he'd
probably tell him that the blade had no reach and that he'd have to
duck in beneath the lizard's defences. The human wreckage of the few
guards not armed with spears attested to the futility of that idea.

He heard the men behind him being
sick in the sand at the sight of the carnage, they must have been
thinking the same thoughts. Realising how pointless it was to offer
opposition to this force of nature.

The combat didn't last much
longer, the guards had paid no attention to the arrival of C-Company
and their subsequent lack of aid. Instead they had been torn to
pieces as if they were but lumps of meat obstructing the creature's
path. When the final guard was flung against the palisade like a rag
doll by the creature's mouth, it turned its attentions to Jimmy.

He had expected the cold,
unfeeling eyes of a predator to stare back at him. Instead he saw
something almost human as it looked over them, appraising his targets
and searching for a threat that wasn't there.

'Drop your weapons,' Jimmy said,
looking back at the men hopelessly gripping theirs. They looked at
him as if he were mad, then again perhaps he was. Arms wielded by
those before him would do little good in this situation.

With great reluctance the men
cast their weapons aside into the sand, some with more knowing looks
than others. Jimmy just hoped the gamble paid off, it was the last
one he had to make.

If the creature had any
comprehension of their gesture it didn't show it, the tension rose
every second it stood there, silently looking at them.

It started to move toward them
with caution, perhaps confused at their lack of aggression toward it
after the guards' failed attempts. Jimmy found he was holding his
breath, he feared that even the sound of exhalation would be enough
to provoke it.

It sniffed the air as if smelling
their fear, he hoped it could sense their passive intentions too. It
padded forward without any further preamble and pushed its head up
close to Jimmy's face. Had he not been paralysed with fear he would
have bolted at that point, for all the good it would have done him.
Then it moved on, sniffing at the other terrified members of
C-Company, none of whom made any move against it in spite of or
possibly because of their fear.

The footfalls receded over time
and everyone stood in complete silence, baffled at how they were
still alive.

'Kid, I think you just saved our
lives,' Eigani said, his tremulous voice somehow freeing Jimmy's
limbs and giving him confirmation that he was still alive.

'Let's not get ahead of
ourselves,' Darinnis replied. 'That thing could just as easily come
back when it's hungry, if nothing else is going to stop it.'

Jimmy's heart sank, he had
forgotten about the assassin. It didn't matter if they had survived
the beast, if the assassin wasn't hunted down and killed then they
would become his eventual target once more. The creature certainly
wouldn't take kindly to their killing its companion if they somehow
got the better of the foreigner, this encounter had been nothing more
than a stay of execution. He wished The Hermit was still here, he'd
know what to do.

'What do you propose we do now
then?' Eigani asked Darinnis. 'All the guards here appear to be dead
and there's still a killer on the loose.'

'All guards are not dead,' a
voice came from the darkness.

The left side of his face was
badly bloodied and he walked with a visible limp but there was no
mistaking who it was. For a brief moment Jimmy thought the assassin
had returned already to finish them off, he was mistaken though. The
look in Jadil's good eye did not fill him with any relief, especially
when the man sighted their discarded weaponry.