In Treachery Forged (The Law of Swords) (52 page)

Maelgyn leapt back, barely avoiding the katana as he brought his own sword up to launch a counterattack against Paljor’s right side. He pinned together the flats of both blades, forcing his opponent’s arm to hyperextend. He used the opportunity to bring his armored knee up into the Borden Islander’s arm, hoping to knock the sword out of his hands and end the battle quickly. Even though Paljor’s arm was bare, it felt like Maelgyn was kicking armor plating. He heard a crack from his knee, and moments later sharp pains raced up his leg.

Remind me not to try that again,
he thought absently to Sekhar, staggering slightly as he magically popped his dislocated kneecap back into place.

Paljor, on the other hand, was unaffected by the blow. However, the action forced both of them to step back and re-evaluate each other. They circled around, each looking for another opening. Not able to find one, Maelgyn again decided to play defense and wait for an opportunity to counterattack.

Parry! Fast!
came the warning. It almost came too late, but with a flash of steel and all the magically enhanced speed he was able to muster he deflected a rapid flurry of blows. Maelgyn was forced to retreat, unable to either stand or counterattack under the furious onslaught. His eyes were not able to keep up with the speed of the attack, and only Sekhar’s extra senses kept him from being completely overwhelmed.

This isn’t working,
he thought.

Do you want to change plans? I could help you even more if I could attack,
Sekhar asked.

Maelgyn managed to duck under one sword strike and roll away, putting some distance between them again and giving him another chance to re-evaluate the situation.
No,
he told Sekhar.
Not yet. It seems, though, that I am outmatched defensively even with your aid. Let me try mounting some sort of offense and we’ll see how things go from there.

I’ll watch for counterattacks,
Sekhar thought back.
But be careful – he’s good.

I noticed that,
Maelgyn replied wryly, preparing to attack. He decided to use as much speed as possible – if he could move fast enough that Paljor’s eyes couldn’t clearly see his movements, there was a slim chance he could win. After all, while he was only able to stop that last assault with the aid of a
schlipf’s
senses, he must have been the equal to Paljor in speed to block it. Without a
schlipf
of his own, Paljor would have to rely exclusively on his eyes to react. That was an advantage Maelgyn realized he might have.

Unfortunately, Maelgyn couldn’t change the direction of his attacks fast enough to bring that speed to bear. Each time he launched an attack he only got a single blow in before being knocked back several steps by powerful parries with the flat of Paljor’s sword, ruining his chances to follow up with his newly discovered speed. However, those initial attacks were preventing Paljor from renewing his own offensive... although that would only be until Maelgyn was shoved back into a wall by Paljor’s defensive pushback.

I have to think of something,
he realized.
A new plan... I need a whole new plan....

He felt the wall coming up behind him, and suddenly had his idea. When he was given the final block that sent him slamming against the stone, he was expecting it. Rebounding off of the wall, he swung a powerful overhand strike. Paljor, of course, defended himself just as he had before – with a hard shove back, but no true counterstrike. Maelgyn’s sword tore itself apart cleanly as it hit the katana, slipped through, and reformed seamlessly on the other side. The longsword passed through all of Paljor’s defenses and slammed into his armor.

Dragonhide was impervious to pure magic and some types of arrowheads, but it could nevertheless be pierced by a sharp sword or a heavy axe... usually. And Paljor’s golden dragonhide was slightly scratched by Maelgyn’s blade... but a scratch was all the damage he could manage despite landing a solid blow with all of his weight behind it. Maelgyn hadn’t even felt any magic trying to stop him... which meant that the armor, made from the dragonhide of a Golden Dragon instead of the usual Red or Black, could not be pierced with steel, either.

Uh, oh,
he thought.

Paljor stepped back, not using the easy opportunity to kill Maelgyn then and there. He checked his blade carefully, and when he saw no defect he smiled slowly. “Oh, good,” he said absently. “It seems as if you are a mage, yourself. I was wondering how you were matching my attack.” He paused, and then grinned. “I guess that means I can start using my own magic as well.”

For the first time, Maelgyn could feel Paljor’s magic flaring, slipping into the Borden Islander’s blood to strengthen his muscles. More magic came flying his way, shattering the sword Euleilla had made and sending the shards flying into Maelgyn’s skin and throwing him to his feet.

I was using all of my magic
and
Sekhar’s senses, yet he was able to outfight me using none of his own magic? This is not a fight I could have ever hoped to win,
Maelgyn thought in horror.

“So, just how powerful of a mage are you? Fourth rate, perhaps?”

A magical attack calibrated to throw a Fourth Rate mage into the wall slammed into Maelgyn, but he was easily able to summon the necessary counter-magic to stop him. Fighting at this level was actually to the Sword Prince’s advantage – his practice with Euleilla made counter-magic his greatest magical combat skill, and his own dragon armor aided him even further. Paljor’s assault was deflected easily, and Maelgyn tried to gather the concentration necessary to both attack and defend.

“Third Rate, perhaps?” Paljor continued. Maelgyn felt the force he was trying to combat start to rise with increasing speed. He was forced to abandon plans of his own offensive just to keep up. “Oh, ho, so you’re at least a Second Rate! No, a First! Well, this is a pleasant surprise... it’s been a long time since I had the challenge even of a Third Rate, much less a First. Pity you’re otherwise such a wimp.”

Paljor’s attack slowed, or so it seemed. Compartmentalizing his mind, Maelgyn found the mental discipline to be able to defend himself and to finally lay into his enemy with his own magical assault.

Paljor was caught off guard momentarily, and staggered back before recovering. “Well, well, well. Looks like we have High Mage potential, here. Shame it’s still just potential, though – if you had reached that potential before challenging me, we might have had the first duel of High Mages in all of history... and likely the last, considering how few of us there really are. What an amazing amount of talent can be found in the Sviedan royal line, eh?”

Paljor redoubled his magical attack. Despite his best efforts at counter-magic, Maelgyn found himself slammed back against the wall. He could feel shards of his own exploded sword ripping through his skin, but Maelgyn had just enough strength to keep Paljor from damaging anything vital with them. Nevertheless, he was losing blood. Lost blood was an even greater danger to a mage, for as their blood ran out of their body so did some of the power of their magic. With that in mind, he did his best to seal the cuts as quickly as they appeared, but it was hard to concentrate enough to defend himself from multiple angles
and
heal himself at the same time. He had yet to feel the headache which would let him know that he had reached the limits of what he could get his magic to do, but he feared he would reach that point soon.

“Oh, this is no fun,” Paljor sighed. “I had hoped for a real fight from you, but all you’re doing is trying to stay alive! I want that berserker rage so many people feel at this point in their lives, where they give up hope of survival and let me destroy them just so that they can try to get in one shot. Why don’t you try it? After all, my death is your goal, is it not?”

“You won’t goad me into acting foolishly, Paljor,” Maelgyn replied, more calmly than he felt.

Paljor shook his head. “It seems I need to give you a little... incentive, before you really push things into that stage of self-destruction I want from you. So, let’s see about what we can do to give you that incentive, shall we?”

Without releasing his attack on Maelgyn, Paljor launched a powerful magical wave that slammed each of the observers of the duel into the walls of the circular chamber. Everyone, from the Seats to Maelgyn’s party, started struggling against the intensity of Paljor’s magic.

Maelgyn,
Sekhar thought to him.
His back is to us, so we have the perfect opportunity to attack. Can you point your fist at him?

What?
Maelgyn thought back.
What can you do?

I can pierce even that grade of dragonhide armor as long as you point me directly at him,
Sekhar explained.
I am unaffected by his magic, but my power is too limited unless I am facing him directly.

Maelgyn tried to move his arm but it wouldn’t budge. He was completely pinned by Paljor’s assault, and it was all he could to keep from bleeding out.
Sorry,
he thought.
No good.

Keep trying,
Sekhar demanded.
I’m the only thing around here which can pierce that armor!

Paljor walked around the room. First, his attention was on the Seats. “So, who should I use to anger you, Maelgyn? I doubt you would care much for these turncoats, even if I would enjoy using them. They are complete strangers to you, after all.” He walked casually, as if he wasn’t fighting a mortal battle against what was now more than a score of enemies, until he came to the final Seat. “Although perhaps this traitor means something to you, hm?”

“No!” Maelgyn cried, but there was nothing he could do as Paljor casually slit the throat of the straining Baron Uwelain. Without a word, without a visible protest of any kind, the idealist nobleman who had brought the hope of an end to the civil war between the Borden Isles and Svieda died.

Paljor considered Maelgyn curiously. “Hm, so that upset you, didn’t it? But still you restrain yourself from a sacrificial attempt to destroy me. Perhaps I should move on to your other friends. Surely
one
of them should inspire a futile attack against to save them, don’t you think?”

“Your fight is with me!” Maelgyn cried. “Leave my friends out of this. This is no longer a duel, it is treachery!”

Paljor just ignored him, moving on down the line. “Let’s see. An Elf? Well, well, well... you do keep interesting company, don’t you, your highness? You claim to be a friend of the Dragons, and yet you consort with their greatest enemies. Although I suppose the Dragons aren’t alone in that – the Elves are
everyone’s
greatest enemies. Those ‘papers’ you correctly suspect me of having tell me all about that. Still, it’s pretty hard to kill an Elf. I can do it, of course – as you can see, even he can’t escape the force of my magic – but I think I’ll save him for last.

“And you also have in your company a Dwarf! Magic doesn’t affect them, of course, so I have to use his own steel axe to hold him against the wall. You know, I’ve heard you can’t injure or kill these creatures by simply bludgeoning them? I think I would like to test that. We don’t really have the time, right now, though – you aren’t going to last long enough for me to finish him off.

“And then there’s the Nekoji girl! There’s something odd about this one – it’s almost like she’s trying to use magic and can’t – but I would so love one of those fireproof cloaks you can make from their skins. Who wants to have to wash blood out of such a fine coat, though? I’ll wait until we can kill her cleanly.”

Maelgyn continued struggling as Paljor went on down the row of people. He found he had just enough counter-magic to spare to make his arm move very slowly without significantly affecting his ability to staunch his bleeding wounds. At the rate he was going, however, Paljor would be through the line before he could point Sekhar at the man. And next on his path....

“So, you’re the commoner who married a ‘Sword Prince,’ are you?” Paljor said, looking Euleilla up and down. “Not bad, I must say. Not the snappiest of dressers, but what does one expect from a commoner, anyway? And that hair is so awful it’s embarrassing! Still, I imagine she has her... uses.”

Maelgyn felt Euleilla ‘flinch’ magically as Paljor rubbed a hand along her cheek. The action caused the deranged Sword King to step back in surprise. “Don’t you
ever
touch me, you cretin,” she declared, fighting back with all of her own magic. It wasn’t enough, of course, but it seemed to make him pause.

“Oh, this won’t do at all,” Paljor sighed. “I had hoped to spare you for a while and taste your ‘charms,’ as I am sure many have before me, but you are a mage! I suppose I can still have fun by testing your skills, at least. So, what rate are you, anyway? Fourth? No, you’ve already demonstrated more power than that. At least a second... no, a first! I’m impressed, Maelgyn – for a commoner, you seem to have picked a powerful one.” He laughed. “Of course, that means she’s too powerful to play with. Looks like she’ll have to die!” His katana raised itself over his head.

“No!” Maelgyn shouted. His magic flared up around him. His subconscious took over his magical efforts to heal himself, as all his concentration focused on saving Euleilla. In his panic, adrenaline rushing through his veins, he found himself drawing upon a well of raw magical power he had never tapped into before. His arm began moving faster.