El-Vador's Travels (28 page)

The
man grinned. 'Aye, I'll live well off gutting you, try not to take it
personally.'

'What
of the woman, will you kill her too?' El-Vador asked.

His
foe shrugged. 'Not my problem, not really yours either when you're
back in the mud.'

El-Vador
saw that the time for talking was over, there was nothing left to do
but advance. 'If I best you, will you tell me where the woman is
kept?'

Again
with the shrug. 'Spare my life and I'll give it some thought, the
others went after her.' He didn't look convinced that it would come
to that.

'We
don't have time for this stalling.' a booming voice ached in his
head. 'I have watched passively for too long and grow weary of the
endless delays.'

El-Vador
clutched his temples, dropping his sword and causing a look of
confusion to flash across the mercenary's face, one that slowly gave
way to a grin of opportunistic malice.

'You
are not ready for this, young Elf,' the voice said, seemingly
ignorant of the impending doom closing in on El-Vador. 'Watch and I
shall display a true taste of the power that awaits you.'

An
eruption of white light scarred the insides of his corneas as the
power of the winged beast he had met from the cave took hold.

He
watched from afar, suspended high above the ground as the arm of his
own body was extended into a crooked talon of fingers thrust at the
charging assassin.

A
clicking sound came through the air, whistling toward the head of the
man as he planned to bury the sword in El-Vador's disembodied self.
He watched on aghast as the unnaturally loud sound deviated at the
last moment and nestled itself into the mercenary's throat with an
audible crack.

The
man slumped dead, his life extinguished.

'Your
very fingers will course with power and transform into death
themselves with every click willed into your enemies. You will quell
all dissent with an iron rule, one that begins with finishing that
which you have failed to achieve in the stronghold.'

El-Vador
blinked and found himself in his body once more, staggering clear
from the still corpse of the man and wondering just what the voice
had implied when it spoke of his rule.

There
was no time to deliberate on the meaning, he needed to find Eihblin
with Phaedra and then make their way to the fortress one more. He had
to assume that his nameless benefactor would imbue him with the
suggestion he required. He also knew that the winged creature he had
met in the cave from his previous travels in the mountains would
indeed be watching his every move.

Phaedra
did not ask how he had won the battle, she seemed to have felt that
something was seriously amiss and had no words for him. She eyed the
corpse distastefully and waited from him to make a move, when he
remained standing there aghast she finally spoke up. 'Eihblin was
carried off east to somewhere else in the village, I suggest we start
by searching that way.'

When
the Elf did not respond she took the lead, looking back to see him
slowly following in her wake.

El-Vador
had no idea where this was leading, but he knew that cold murder
awaited him whichever path he took.

The friend of my enemy isn't always my enemy
and the enemy of my friend isn't always my enemy. Somehow I have
found myself with an endless supply of foes in opposition to what I
do or who I am, as a result I no longer need to meditate on such
things. The enemy of me is my enemy, it is simple, concise and
patently true. Determining who my enemies are is where the water gets
murkier.

T
he
iron tang of the bleeding corpse was starting to get on his nerves,
he didn't need this right now.

It
had been easy to take control of a house further into the village,
with two assassins at his side there was little that the local
authority could do. The entire area seemed so dejected and beaten
down from Sarvacts that there hadn't really been any fight required.
It irritated the spy that his hired killer had acted of his own
accord in slitting the man's throat. He wanted men that obeyed his
commands, not the unpredictable sorts that may turn on him. When
pressed on the issue the assassin had simply said it was his job to
kill and that he shouldn't expect anything else.

Still
the foremost of his hired swords had not returned with his captive,
had he killed him by accident? This thought angered the spy, he had
wanted to be the one to deliver the final blow, to let the boy know
it was slighting a Caldalian spy that had cost his life.

He
had stolen away the one he assumed was the Elf's woman in the hopes
of provoking him, and left the other alive to tell the tale, surely
the Elf would have returned by now to find her missing? He had
allowed the assassins to have their fun with the girl, but grew weary
of watching after a time. He didn't like that his other hired blade
had been gone so long, and was considering sending more men out to
determine why.

Could
the Elf really have done away with the man?

Anacletus
tread warily through the high walls of the labyrinthine structure
beneath the fortress, this was where Sarvacts was to be found.

There
were many twists and turns in the passages that could have led him to
an unenviable encounter with one of the lower denizens, fortunately
it was his job to know exactly where he was going and exactly how to
get there. He had memorised the route in the knowledge that he would
undoubtedly return, an action he had been dreading for some time now.

He
had been employed by many foul men over the years, all with equally
wicked deeds that could shatter any faith left in human kindness.
This particular employer was different though, he was no man that was
for sure.

Often
he had seen men fixate on vengeance to the point that it consumed
them, draw away the inhibitions that would prevent them from reaching
into their darker parts in order to achieve what needed to be done.
What this creature was doing sorely tested Anacletus's own patience
and made him uncomfortable in that it hinted at a lingering morality
of sorts within his supposedly blackened heart.

It
was an aberration unto nature that this green-skinned monster was
committing, one that could come back to haunt Anacletus personally,
not to mention the places that he loved to visit in the quieter
hours. No gold in the world could smooth over his life being
destroyed. After all, what was wealth if a man could not enjoy it?

The
chamber doors opened upon his arrival without any known aid, he had
come to expect such a thing given his previous encounter with the
outer gates. He didn't know whether he was meant to feel intimidated
or awed by the Orc's power. Cheap parlour tricks did little to
unnerve him, it was the demons this conjurer had already unleashed
that were a testament to his power.

He
lay within on a massive throne, a glass of wine swirling in his huge
palm and a crooked grin of pleasure looking strange upon his scarred
features. Anacletus only hoped that the news he brought was good
enough to keep the smile genuine.

'I
see neither the Elf nor the woman in your company, assassin.'

The
lack of any given name was a distressing turn of events, Sarvacts was
dehumanising him in preparation for a swift kill perhaps.

'The
boy is in the village beyond and will soon make his way to the
fortress, my lord.' how he hated calling him that.

'He
is no boy,' the Orc snarled, causing the heckles to rise on
Anacletus' flesh. 'No mere child could do this to me, it needs to be
perfect and pure for it to become undone.'

The
assassin had no idea what Sarvacts was raving about but he knew that
acquiescing to his every whim was probably the best way of staying
alive.

'Why
did you not bring him directly to me?'

He
froze, had he not already told him why? 'The b... Elf, did not need
to be coaxed any further, my lord. He is on his way to your fortress
as we speak.'

The
grin had vanished, that could only bode ill for his well-being.

'When
you set off from this place I tasked you with finding the Elf and
bringing him to me, those were the terms of our agreement.' The cup
splintered under his grasp, spilling a black liquid over his shaking
hand. 'Yet here you are in my presence, choosing to renege on your
assignment and expecting payment for doing so.'

He
needed to get out of here, to go back and secure the Elf. Take his
chances with incapacitating his target before killing the others that
followed, it was the only way he was making his way out of the
fortress without a fight.

'I
shall return with the boy slung over my shoulder.' he asserted,
cursing himself for calling El-Vador a boy in front of Sarvacts yet
again, his tongue slipping under the pressure of dealing with a
maddening creature.

Sarvacts
extended his idle arm and Anacletus found himself paralysed, the grin
had returned to his features in causing this. 'Perhaps, but if you do
it shall be as my vessel, and this time you will not fail me.'

El-Vador
and Phaedra dashed through the village in search of their missing
companion. Though he felt no great warmth for Eihblin, it was the
principle of the matter that irked him as much as the heinousness of
the capture. The rain had started to fall heavily now, making their
search all the more difficult and soaking through their clothing in
short order.

'That
house up ahead looks to have been vandalised.' Phaedra said, her
keener sight piercing through the damp and offering them a potential
target. 'It looks like you were right and they didn't leave the
village.'

It
had taken her far less time to adjust to the idea of El-Vador
crushing a man's throat with his will alone than he had expected. It
only made him more concerned as to what Sarvacts was capable of when
surrounded by all his forces. That in turn had been pushed to the
back of his mind by the looming reality that the winged beast still
had some measure of control over his actions that his previous
slaughter in the stronghold hadn't shaken.

'How
do you wish to proceed?' Phaedra asked, jogging him out of his
thoughts.

'Head
on,' El-Vador replied. 'There doesn't seem to be any other entrance.'

'And
if they decide to end Eihblin then and there?'

He
shrugged. 'Then she dies. I see no other way to aid her.'

Setting
his foot to the door he launched a kick at it, sending it inward and
plunging into the gloom inside.

A
slim man stood with a bow drawn and his sights firmly El-Vador, there
was no way he could miss at this range. The Elf froze as the man's
fingers let go of the string and the arrow came racing toward him.

Phaedra
flung herself through the doorway, knocking El-Vador off-balance and
receiving the arrow directly in the sternum with a faint grunt. He
knew the wound was not fatal to her but it was certainly
incapacitating, he would have to finish this fight alone before his
would-be assassin could ready another arrow.

In
spite of out-numbering him three to one, the two associates that
flanked the spy dropped their weapons and made their way to the door
with their arms raised in defeat. El-Vador kept his blade high and
watched them carefully, dragging Phaedra clear of their path and
shutting the door behind them.

The
spy was trying to get another arrow knocked but it kept slipping from
the string, clearly the man was not a woodsman or a warrior. Finally
he let out a shriek of panic and swung at El-Vador's head with the
body of the bow. El-Vador met him with his sword, sinking it deep
into the man's guts with a grin of satisfaction. At last he had
dispatched the last niggling foe that would have quarrel with him
before he reached Sarvacts.

They
found Eihblin tied up and unresponsive in the corner of the room, her
clothes torn and shredded and blood caking several open wounds.

The
Elf stood after a time, watching as Phaedra did her best with the
medical ministration. She turned around to him, a questioning look in
her eyes. 'Where are you going?'

But
El-Vador would not answer, his silence was soon passed on to two
bodies that were found some time later outside the village.

Sarvacts
stared at the spike once more, fixated upon the crusty blood whose
stillness seemed to usher in the waning of his power. It had taken a
great deal out of him to control Anacletus in the manner required, a
necessary evil given the man's incompetence. Now he could do little
but rest and wait patiently for his more servile assassin to acquire
the Elf.

He
would have opened his gates and sent his minions forth to subdue his
foe but he could not count on one of them not getting overly zealous
and delivering a killing blow. If the Elf were to perish before being
planted upon the spike then it would have been all for naught. In his
weakened state that was something he simply could not afford.

Anacletus
was trapped inside his own head, straining with every fibre of his
being against a strange fogginess that obscured his commands from his
own limbs. Never had he been subjected to such a degree of
humiliation and lack of control, he would make Sarvacts pay for this
indignity. Assuming that the Orc ever released him that is.

He
found himself oddly rooting for the Elf, though he suspected that he
would not live to see the outcome of that particular encounter.

He
had underestimated Sarvacts and cursed himself for it, he should have
known that an Orc with such abominable creatures at his beck and call
would also yield significant power. It seemed foolish now to think
that he could fight against such a force over some perceived slight.
He doubt that given the chance he could kill the thing even now when
his grievances were very real.