“Betrayer!” Mallak cried, drawing his sword in time to block Darius’s follow-up swing. Their blades connected, showering sparks. The dark fire wreathing Mallak’s sword was far greater, and with ease he pushed Darius back. “You will burn for eternity for such cowardice!”
Valessa could not believe her luck. The damned prophet was gone, and here was Darius deserving every bit of pain she could deliver. Karak must have smiled upon her. She watched as the two paladins exchanged swings, with Darius clearly the inferior in strength and passably equal in skill. When she saw an opening, his back completely to her, she tensed her legs to lunge. Searing pain flooded her back before she could, and then she found herself flying through the air. Tucking her shoulder, she rolled, then spun so she might dig her heels into the dirt to halt her momentum.
Chasing after her was Jerico with that damned shield of his. Worse, he was apologizing.
“Sorry,” he said, carefully approaching. “Don’t like attacking opponents unaware.”
“Consider me aware,” she said, twirling her daggers in her hands. One opening… just one opening…
He lifted his mace to strike, and she went for it, one blade jamming inward to lock his shield out of place, the other thrusting for the gap in his armor at the armpit. Numbing pain jolted into her hand as her dagger hit the shield, but she forced herself on. Her other dagger sliced into flesh, and then she whirled, avoiding the downward chop of his mace. The paladin let out a cry, and it was music to her ears. Continuing her spin, she stayed close, and her daggers stabbed for a crease just above his shoulder.
“I have no problem stabbing a man in the back,” she said through clenched teeth as Jerico’s body reacted on instinct, arching his upper half toward her. She twisted the dagger, locking his right arm from striking at her with his mace.
“How could you kill Claire?” she asked, still pressed tight against him. “You, a slow, dim-witted fool? She was worlds beyond you.”
“Because I… have… friends.”
Jerico ducked, and Darius’s elbow caught her full in the face. Her training kicked in, and Valessa rolled with it to minimize the damage, leaving one of her two daggers still embedded in Jerico’s shoulder. When she returned to her feet, the next few seconds were a jumbled blur. Her eyes watered from the hit, and the throbbing in her head seemed to make everything a haze. Jerico fell to one side, still bleeding. Instead of pressing the attack on her, Darius spun, flinging his weapon up to block Mallak’s attack, who was far from beaten. Mallak, it seemed, had tried to kill Jerico while he lay helpless. As Valessa lunged to help, Jerico rolled to his knees and lifted his shield. Its light shone upon her, and already weakened, she struggled to push onward. It felt as if her every movement was through ice water. Jerico met her ineffective attack with that damn shield of his. Her whole body pressed against it, but she could only cry out in agony. Never before had she felt such pain.
Valessa hit the ground, her only conscious thought that of the ringing in her ears. As if from someone else’s body, she watched the battle end. Jerico turned his shield back to Mallak, joining the traitor Darius’s side. Mallak, seemingly realizing he had to end the fight quickly now that he was outnumbered, assaulted the wounded Jerico with all his might. The fire of his blade flared, and he struck with awesome fury. Jerico’s shield weathered the blows, though he cried out in pain all the while. But Darius was there, and he took the opening before him. Valessa silently shrieked as the traitor thrust his blade through a crease in Mallak’s armor, and then twisted the handle. Blood gushed from Mallak’s side, and when he coughed, more spilled across his lips and neck. He fell.
“Help me,” Valessa whispered, struggling to stand. It was as if her limbs had suddenly stopped taking orders. “Please, Karak, help me
…”
Jerico fell to one knee, and he screamed when Darius yanked out the dagger she had lodged into his shoulder. Whatever satisfaction she might have felt meant nothing knowing he would survive. So many dead, and all their fault… all their fault.
“Karak,” she breathed. “I am your darkness. I am your shadow. Do not abandon me. Not now.”
The two paladins turned their attention to her, and there was no misunderstanding the look in Darius’s eyes as he approached.
“Don’t,” she heard Jerico say, and she felt fury at any false sympathy he might show. Darius refused to listen.
“I’m sending her to her god,” said the traitor. “I know what she is, what she is capable of. The world is better this way.”
“I will hunt you,” Valessa said to him, even as tears welled in her eyes. “Even to the Abyss.”
The traitor knelt beside her, and he touched her face with a hand even as the other lifted his sword so the point rested against her throat.
“I will never feel the Abyss’s flames,” he said. “Don’t you see, sister? I’m Karak’s champion no longer.”
“Darius!” cried Jerico.
He hesitated, and that was enough for her. With the last of her strength, she flung herself onto his blade. The metal pierced flesh, her whole body retched, and then she felt fire burning.
*
J erico and Darius stood over the bodies, and they watched as Valessa’s corpse was consumed by a dark fire.
“I’ve never seen such a thing,” Darius said, watching until she was all but ash.
“I think we’ve seen more than few firsts today,” Jerico said, and he grinned despite the pain and blood that trickled down the inside of his armor. With his good arm, he gestured to where Gregane’s army had pushed into the forest in chase of Lord Arthur’s men.
“I think we should get out of here,” he said, chuckling despite the pain it caused. “At some point they’re going to come back, and I doubt they’ll be happy with us.”
“Where do we go?” Darius asked as he came over to inspect his wounds.
“Later,” Jerico said, pushing him back. “I’ve survived worse. And where should we go? You’re an outlaw now, as much as I.”
Darius looked to the forest.
“I spoke with Sebastian,” he said. “I’ve seen how his mind works. If Arthur is alive, we need to help him. It only seems right, given the mess I helped cause here in the North.”
“Plenty my fault, too,” Jerico said, and he leaned on Darius to remain standing. “Let’s put Gregane’s army far behind us. I know a place we can hide.”
Epilogue
“You are certain?” Sir Robert Godley asked as he leaned back in his wooden chair, which creaked from his weight.
“Sure as I am of anything in this world,” said Jeremy Hangfield, who stood with his hands clasped behind his back, the chosen spokesmen for the people of Durham.
“And you have witnesses who will swear to this?”
“Over a hundred,” Jeremy said. “This was something we’ll never forget. We’ll say it until our graves, or the king brings us justice.”
“Go,” Robert said, dismissing him. “I promise you an answer by tomorrow.”
The man bowed and left Robert to be alone with his most trusted friend, Daniel Coldmine, in his room in the Blood Tower.
“This is bad,” Daniel said.
“I gathered as much.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Daniel leaned on the desk with both hands, and he looked out the window to the distant wildlands of the Wedge. “A paladin of Karak? We can’t make enemies with the Stronghold. You know damn well how favored his priests are in the capital.”
“But that many witnesses…”
“They’ll mean nothing, and you know it. All their lives are a pile of shit in the eyes of anyone outside the North.”
Robert crossed his arms and forced himself to bite his tongue. He knew there were good people in the capital, but Daniel was right. Given the current balance of power, they would be making enemies of those who controlled the mind and heart of the king.