Questing Sucks! Book II (29 page)

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Authors: Kevin Weinberg

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BOOK: Questing Sucks! Book II
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Sehn frowned. “Those six people staring at me from the back of the room?”

“That’s them.”

Sehn unsheathed his sword, and this time he gripped it with two hands. He looked a great deal healthier than the last time Patrick had seen him; color filled his cheeks, and his eyes no longer carried a look of concealed pain.

Sehn pointed to a man sitting with his mouth open in the middle of the room. Then he looked at the barely-conscious barkeeper. “Everyone out! Leave now if you value your pathetic, mortal lives. Everyone except you.” He bared his teeth at Ghell and the five assassins. “You six can stay.”

Now that Patrick could look freely at Ghell, he could see much had changed. Something about him made Patrick’s skin crawl. It was as if he were a living man trapped inside a dead man’s body. His teeth were sharper, and as he licked his lips, Patrick blinked at the sight of his forked tongue.

“I hoped that I’d get to meet you, Sehn,” Ghell said. He snapped his fingers. “I think it’s time I introduce you to my Shinsarian assassins. I think you’ll find them quite fun to play with. Go get him, boys.”

Sehn raised his blade. “Patrick, it’s bad to see you.”

“Don’t you mean it’s good to—?”

“I mean what I said, fool! Now listen to me: go with Cah’lia and the others and make sure Rina is safe. I’ll stay here with my minion and make Jell tell me where Nero is.”

“My name is Ghell, elf,” Ghell said.

Sehn turned his head to look at the man, and he growled. “Your name is what I tell you it is! Prepare to die!”

Chapter 25: Shadows of Shinsar

The last few days had been hard on Sehn. His body begged him for rest. He was exhausted, worn, and he’d been forced to push himself to make it back to Hahl in time. But now, as he saw the smug look on this Ghell-fool’s face, Sehn’s fatigue seemingly evaporated. He waited until the last frightened patron exited the inn, then pointed his sword at the deformed general.

“I have to say,” Ghell began, moving in front of his assassins so that he stood foremost among them. “For someone I’ve never met until now, I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Sehn the elf. Your name does seem to be on the tip of a great many tongues these days.”

The words took Sehn by surprise, causing him to nearly drop his sword. He blushed and struggled to keep a scowl on his face.

“N-now is
not
the time for flattery, mortal! That will buy you no forgiveness.” Sehn bit his lip. “But uh…but because this has a lot to do with what’s going on, go ahead and tell me about all the people who are mentioning my great name, and all the things they’re saying. I want names and details.”

The Champion, who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Sehn, whispered, “Master, I do not think this man means to flatter you. I believe he is speaking matter-of-factly.”

Sehn kept his eyes fixed on Ghell. “Oh,” he whispered. “But still, minion, he does have a point. A great many people
have
heard my name, no doubt. What this man is saying is—” Sehn grew more alert as his sense of danger heightened. Ghell was tricking him!

“Be on guard, my minion,” he warned. “I believe this fool means to use his powers of persuasion to convince us to join him. Do not be swayed by his infallible logic.”

The Champion sighed. “Master…I really do not believe he meant his words as anything other than a standard greeting. Perhaps you may be…hearing that which you desire and not what is said…”

“Nonsense,” Sehn replied. “This man is speaking prophecy. We must be wary. Well,
you
must be wary. As for me, the Great Sehn fears nothing.”

“I…understand, and obey.”

Ghell twirled a maroon- and jade-colored dagger in his hands. He reminded Sehn less of a human and more of a dead thing in a man’s flesh. He certainly smelled the part, which infuriated Sehn. How dare someone bring such a stench before his Godly nose?

Ghell eyed Sehn up and down with uncertainty plain on his face. “I’m going to make things easy for you, elf, because I have bigger fish to fry than you. Tell me where I can find the child called Rina, and I will let you out of here unharmed.” Ghell shot a murderous look the Champion’s way. “As for him, I make no such offer. I have a score to settle with the old Champion here.”

Ghell snapped his fingers, and one of the black-clad assassins raised his arm and mumbled a spell. The door behind Sehn blasted shut with a loud snap, sealing the eight of them inside the inn, which even now continued to become thicker with smoke and hotter as the fires consumed more of the place.

“As you can see,” Ghell continued, “it’s six on two, and there is no way out. Tell me where the girl is, and you may leave.”

“He doesn’t know where the girl is,” The Champion said, before Sehn could answer. “He has only just arrived in Hahl, and he knows nothing of the current situation. Why not let him leave and settle the score with me alone? This elf is very powerful, and even if you are to defeat us in combat, you will certainly lose an assassin or two…if not more.”

Ghell tapped his thumb against his chin. “Very well. Truth be told, my master wants that elf alive for one reason or another, so I hadn’t planned on killing him anyway. I will let him leave, but you, my former ally, you will stay behind and suffer for what you have done.”

The Champion bowed his head. Then he turned to Sehn. “Master, this is a fight you should not partake in.” He was speaking in his usual whisper, but there was a sense of urgency in his voice. “Hurry up and leave…before the general has a change of mind. This man, he…he has acquired great power since I last saw him. He is not the same man as he once was.”

Sehn couldn’t tell if his minion was being serious. He peered into the man’s catlike eyes and saw no hint of mockery or deception, which meant one of two things: either he was crazy, or he was unafraid of death.

“Are you nuts?” Sehn asked. “If I leave, you will die.”

“Well, yes, of course,” the Champion whispered. “That is the point, is it not? I will serve you as best as I can, and buy you time while…you find the others.”

Sehn wondered if the Champion was trying to act stupid on purpose. If so, he was doing a spectacularly good job of it. But he didn’t take the Champion for a fool, which meant something else was the matter.

“Are you suggesting, minion, that I simply betray you? That I walk out of that door and leave you to die?”

The Champion grunted something indiscernible. Then he tilted his head, as if genuinely confused. Sehn had never seen such uncertainty in him.

“I…do not understand. How would such be a…betrayal? My life is but to serve. It almost seems as if you feel something akin to…concern for my wellbeing, master.”

Sehn snorted at the ridiculous claim. “Do not be ridiculous, minion-fool. The Great Sehn feels no concern for anyone, including himself. I simply cannot understand how you would ask me to run with my tail between my legs while you stand here and die a noble death in my place. Hah! I should slaughter you myself for attempting to steal all the precious glory and honor!”

The Champion smiled. It was an odd, silly look; his face was clearly not made to show happiness. “I…understand.” With the ridiculous smile still on his lips, the Champion once again faced Ghell, who had been watching the exchange with obvious disinterest.

“I must apologize, Commander Ghell,” the Champion said. “It would seem my master refuses to abandon me just yet. I suppose combat is now inevitable.”

Responding to his words, the five assassins spread out around the room and drew curved swords, which looked designed to take a man’s head clean off his shoulders. Ghell took a few steps back and held his dagger in a reverse grip, pointing the blade downward.

“It has been a few years since my last fight in the bar of some seedy inn,” he said. “What
fun.

Sehn ignored Ghell. He grinned and reinforced his grip on the elven blade. “I just realized something, my minion.”

“You…have?” the Champion whispered.

“Yes.” Sehn maneuvered around the Champion, so that he stood back to back with his faithful servant. “This will be the first time we have ever fought together.”

“Yes, it will be.”

“Exactly, so don’t embarrass me.” Sehn grabbed the base of his sword and then drove it into the floor. He placed his hands on his hips, lifted his chin, and released a manly laugh. “You see, my minion, when you fight together with Sehn, you fight with a God. And when you fight with a God, you put
both
our reputations at stake. That is why it is important you accept this honor and—holy fuck!”

Sehn pulled his sword out of the floor and stared, paralyzed, at a fast-moving blur that was heading straight for him.

“Minion! Something black and cloudy is coming towards me! What the—”

Sehn jumped out of the way as a misty, cloudy,
umm
…whatever-the-fuck-it-was hurtled towards him at a speed that seemed so at odds with its smoky appearance. Sehn wasn’t sure which of the cheating bastards had used magic on him before he was ready, but whoever it was, they were about to pay dearly for it.

I was in the middle of a speech
.
Those pathetic
,
dishonorable rodents
!

The cloud-thing stopped as it hit the wall adjacent to the door. Sehn’s mouth dropped open as the wood sizzled then turned black and took on a burnt appearance, before melting away completely. Now there was a hole in the wall, through which Sehn could see the streets of Hahl outside the inn.

He licked his lips twice then tapped the Champion on the shoulder. “Remember that thing you said about us running away? Yeah…let’s do
that
thing. And not because we’re scared or anything, but because it’s the last thing they would expect, so by doing that, we’re actually making
them
look like the cowards. It makes sense if you think about it. We’ll iron out the details later.”

The Champion closed his eyes a moment. When he reopened them, his blade transformed into the dangerous tool of death it had been when Sehn had fought him. As if materializing from nothing, hundreds of rocks, both pebble and fist-sized, popped into existence around the Champion’s blade, revolving around the weapon.

“There is no running away now. Only fighting.”

Sehn cursed under his breath. “This is some bullshit,” he muttered. “I thought we were going to use swords. They’ve got fucking black cloud things coming out of their hands. I did
not
know this was going to happen.” With a growl, he chanted, “
Remmos Salas
!

His blade ignited with an audible
whoosh
. He had to struggle not to cough; in the enclosed space of the inn—already on fire and burning up fast—the heat of his own weapon was unbearable.

“We need to take this fight outside,” Sehn said. He shifted his grip on the blade so that he held his burning weapon in one hand. With his other, he pointed his palm behind him and shouted, “Remmos Salas!”

A ball of flame escaped his fingers and crashed into the already damaged wall, where one of the assassins—and Gods help him, Sehn was going to find out which one—had formed a hole in their preemptive attack. Sehn’s fireball furthered the damage, melting away the rest of the wall. Now there was a gap big enough for Sehn and the Champion to slip through.

Sehn backed up slowly, keeping his sword raised, ready to deflect any incoming attacks. Ghell and the assassins seemed content to allow the two to back away. It made sense—fighting inside a burning building was as much a disadvantage to them as it was to Sehn and his minion.

The few people who were on the streets hurried away when Sehn emerged with the Champion, his blade shooting flames and the Champion’s fixed with a revolving field of rocky debris. They were halfway across the street by the time the first of the assassins followed them out of the inn.

They fanned out into a circular position, enclosing him and the Champion inside. Sehn waved his sword around, trying to keep it in motion; the moment one of them attacked, he would be ready. The Champion did the same.

Ghell pointed his dagger at one of the assassins. “You,” he said. Then he pointed at another. “And you. Both of you, attack.”

If not for the Champion’s warning shout, Sehn would’ve lost his head. A moment after Ghell issued his command, the assassin directly across from him vanished into a puff of smoke, appearing an instant later less than a foot away with his curved sword already slicing downwards.

There was no time to evade. Sehn brought his own weapon up to parry. The ring of steel hitting steel served as a reminder that things were about to get bloody—and fast. Sehn heard the same clang behind him, which meant the Champion was busy with an attacker of his own.

With nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide, Sehn had no choice but to fight for his life. But even as the adrenaline raced through his heart, an unexpected mix of emotions managed to dull his excitement: he felt shock, overwhelming revulsion, and an odd sense of dishonor. While he locked blades with the black-clad assassin and struggled to keep his grip on his sword, he allowed his attention to drop. He called to his servant.

“Minion! Answer me at once!”

“Yes, master?” the Champion whispered as the sound of colliding blades echoed from behind.

“Did this motha’fucka just teleport at me? Me, the Great Sehn! Did someone actually just teleport at me?”

“I believe so.”

Sehn became so filled with contempt that it overpowered his desire to live and forced him to bite down on his lips. He knew that the dumbest thing he could do was loosen his grip on his blade. But anger wrested control of his body, and he freed his right hand on the blade, which gave the assassin the edge. But before the black-clad man could overpower him, Sehn balled his hand into a fist and struck his enemy in the stomach, causing the assassin to bend forward while stumbling backwards. It was a stupid, risky move, which was likely why it worked. Sehn was too enraged to think long on it.

“Teleporting…teleporting!” he growled. “What a bitch move. I have just decided that no mercy will be shown.” He charged forward before the assassin could recover and snapped up his foot. His boot connected with the man’s jaw, causing the assassin to fall on his back and drop his sword.

“He’s better than I thought,” Ghell said. “Everyone, attack him at once. No more fooling around.”

Sehn cursed as the other three assassins faded away into nothingness. They appeared an instant later in front of him. Now he had three men to fight, while the Champion tangled with the fourth. There was a groan as the one Sehn had injured retrieved his weapon and returned to his feet. Now he would be forced to take on all five—no, six. In the corner of his eye, he spotted Ghell closing in on them to join the fight.

Nero
,
you are going to pay for making me go through this
.

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