Lord Kueryn followed him down the steps, and when his foot touched the floor, momentarily lost his balance. Upon regaining it, he continued forward toward Bart and managed to take two more steps before his sword fell from his hand. Now swollen and covered in red tendrils, his hand could no longer hold it.
He gazed incredulously at his empty hand an instant before following his sword to the floor. Reaching his swollen hand out, he sought his sword and when he touched its hilt was unable to make his hand clasp around it.
“Uncle,” Haran said as he came to the dying man’s side.
Lord Kueryn glanced up to his nephew with hate in his eyes. “Call…me…not!” he gasped.
“Uncle,” Haran again said, “I shall return the Orack people to greatness.”
“T…trai…” he tried to say, but then his strength left him.
As his uncle lay there breathing his last, Haran turned to where Lord Hurrin and Riyan continued to battle. Riyan was awash with blood from the numerous times the lord had breached his defenses. “Lord Hurrin!” exclaimed Haran. When the lord failed to respond to him, Haran said, “I command you to desist!”
Disengaging, Lord Hurrin took a step back and kept an eye on a panting Riyan as he glanced toward Haran. Then he saw where Lord Kueryn lay. “Dead?” he asked.
“Shortly,” replied Haran. “I will soon succeed my uncle as Warlord of the Orack Tribe.”
Lord Hurrin gazed to where Lord Kueryn lay dying then back to Haran. Unreadable thoughts came and went as he took in the new situation. Then, he came to a decision. Giving a slight bow to Haran he said, “As you wish my lord.”
“Now,” commanded Haran, “tell your men to stop fighting.”
“Yes, my lord,” he replied. Moving to the passageway, he ordered his men to break off.
As the three remaining Tribesmen disengaged from Chad and the twins, Captain Lyrun continued the fight. Which was just fine with Chyfe. Though he sported several wounds courtesy of the captain, he fought on with great determination.
Captain Lyrun on the other hand bore but one wound and it was barely a nick.
Slash, block, hack, the two combatants continued to fight. Seth came to aid Chyfe but Chyfe shouted, “He’s mine!”
“But you can’t take him!” argued Seth. And as if to accentuate the point, Captain Lyrun’s blade penetrated Chyfe’s guard and stabbed him in the shoulder of his sword arm.
Seth had seen enough. Against Chyfe’s wishes, he moved forward with sword drawn and engaged Captain Lyrun. Now with two opponents, the captain was forced to concentrate more on defense and less on killing Chyfe.
“I can take him!” argued Chyfe as blood flowed from his shoulder.
Seth didn’t reply. Instead, he thought back to a conversation he had with one of his instructors. When two men are faced with a superior opponent, his instructor had said, it’s sometime advisable for one to open their defense to entice him into an attack that will leave him open to the other.
Does that work? Chyfe had asked.
Sometimes, replied his instructor. But you must be careful, for the one opening their defenses risks death.
With that in mind, Seth waited until Chyfe had attacked then drew his sword back. At that time, Seth opened his defense and saw Captain Lyrun’s blade immediately fly into the opening. Though he jumped back, Seth failed to completely avoid the blow. Two inches of the captain’s sword slid between his ribs.
“Seth!” cried Soth as he saw his brother fall from the blade.
In the instant Captain Lyrun wounded Seth, Chyfe struck. The point of his sword penetrated the captain’s side. Using his weight to give added strength to the blow, Chyfe pressed forward until the point of his sword emerged from Captain Lyrun’s other side.
For a split second, it seemed as if the captain would continue the attack. He spun quickly back toward Chyfe, the motion pulling the hilt of Chyfe’s sword out of his hands. Standing there with the sword completely impaling him, Captain Lyrun made to move toward Chyfe. Then with knees buckling under him, he crashed to the floor. The battle was over.
“Oh no,” moaned Soth as he came to his brother’s side. Blood covered Seth’s front and he was having trouble breathing. He looked into his brother’s eyes, fear for Seth’s life coursed through him.
“Hey, brother,” Seth said when his eyes focused on Soth’s face. Foam flecked the corners of his mouth.
Soth turned to Chad and said, “I think his lung was punctured.”
From where Chyfe was retrieving his sword from Captain Lyrun’s body, he said, “A wound like that could be mortal.”
“I know,” replied Soth.
Riyan, Bart, and Haran came from the room and saw Seth lying there, red rapidly staining an ever increasing area on his front. “Wait,” Haran said then hurried back into the room.
“We won didn’t we?” asked Seth. Then a coughing fit took him as more blood was expelled from his mouth.
“We sure did,” he brother replied.
Haran suddenly reappeared with a small vial in his hand. “My uncle always has a couple healing potions on him at all times,” he explained. Coming over to the twins he handed the vial to Soth. “Have him drink this.”
Soth nodded. Taking the vial, he brought it to his brother’s lips. “Don’t cough it back up,” he scolded. Starting with just a few drops at a time, he poured the vial’s contents into his brother.
“Depending on how bad the injury is,” explained Haran, “it may take a few minutes before its effects are noticeable.”
“Thank you,” said Soth. Turning his attention back to his brother, he saw that his breathing was already calming down and his eyes were closed.
By this time Chyfe had his sword cleaned and back in its scabbard. He was watching the healing affects of the potion work on Seth when he noticed one of Haran’s men holding the box containing the gray powder. “Don’t open that!” he exclaimed. The last thing he wanted was for some fool to open the box and negate the magic of the healing potion. Hurrying to the soldier’s side, he took possession of the box.
“What is it?” asked Haran.
“I’m not entirely sure,” he replied. “When you open it, it somehow prevents magic users from casting spells. Kevik would know…” Coming to an abrupt stop, he suddenly remembered Kevik. “Kevik!” Turning toward where they had left the magic user, he rushed down the passageway.
As he drew closer, he saw Kevik lying on the floor looking for all the world like he was dead. In one hand was gripped the wand that he had carried around for so long. “Oh man don’t be dead,” Chyfe said.
Soth stayed with his brother as the others hurried down to see about Kevik. Riyan was aghast when he saw the extensive area of burned skin that covered his body. His robe had numerous burned patches, beneath which could be seen skin covered in blisters. “Oh my,” Riyan said.
“The gem!” exclaimed Chad.
“Gem?” asked Haran.
“If he still lives it may be his only chance,” exclaimed Chyfe.
Riyan reached his side first and laid his ear against Kevik’s chest. When he heard the faint lub-dub of a heartbeat, he turned his attention to the pouches around Kevik’s waist. “He’s alive,” he told the others. “Barely.” Opening the first pouch, he searched for the gem but failed to find it. Moving to the second, he opened it only to find a large hole had been burned into it and the contents missing.
“It must have fallen out,” he said. “We need to find it!” Beginning to search in the area adjacent to where Kevik lay, he frantically hunted for the gem.
Haran and his men joined the search. As he went down on his hands and knees, he asked, “Just what exactly are we looking for?”
“A small red ruby,” Riyan explained. “It has healing powers.”
Turning to his men, Haran said, “Find it.”
A minute went by as the searchers combed the floor of the passageway for the gem. When Chyfe finally found it lying in a crack against the wall, he shouted for joy. Grabbing it, he brought it over to where Kevik lay and handed it to Riyan. “You’ve used it before,” he said.