The Lady's Man (28 page)

For ages it seemed they stood there, trading blows, or rather Cavutos kept striking again and again with every greater speed and strength while Yorik just kept dodging and twisting. But he knew the steel paladin had to be tiring. His back was a mess, and he was throwing everything he had into his attacks. Even he surely couldn't carry on forever. Unfortunately Cavutos knew that too, and he knew that Yorik knew it and was waiting for it. He wasn't above using his own fatigue to set a trap for him.

But Yorik knew that too. It was then that he decided he had to counter attack himself. Not against the man though; against his attacks.

“Hammer sword.” He cast the spell all but silently, and then felt the effect as his great sword became suddenly more massive, though with the rage and fear singing in his blood by then, that wasn't an issue. What was important was that Cavutos didn't suspect, and he didn't. So even as he struck with all his might, trying to look more crippled and desperate than he was, he discovered that Yorik wasn't dodging for once. Instead of parrying or twisting, he met the blow head on, sword against sword, and then felt the explosion as golden great sword impacted upon the dark fired great sword like a mighty warhammer.

The impact was unbelievable, the sound like a thunderclap, and both of them were tossed away from the arena as though a titan had just hit them. The difference was that Yorik had expected the blast and braced himself for it while his sword was far too strong to be damaged by the blow. He found himself flying for the distant trees, but managed to guide himself through the air so that he landed lightly on his feet on a tree trunk before dropping easily to the ground. Cavutos wasn't so fortunate as his sword shattered in his hand while the bone breaking violence of that explosion surely rocked right through his body, hurting him badly and maybe – if he was lucky – breaking his wrists. He hit the distant trees once more, at least twenty feet off the ground, his shoulder taking the worst of the impact, and Yorik watched as more of his plate buckled.

For a man, even a knight the impact would have been deadly, but for the paladin, it was simply a scratch, and Cavutos landed lightly on his feet, tossed the remains of his great sword aside, and drew a wicked looking scimitar and shield before running back at him as fast as he could. He was angry, and it showed. But he wasn't foolish, and before he struck him physically, he launched a spell of dread sickness, hoping to sap Yorik's strength. Fortunately Yorik was always defended against such spells, and it fizzled on his armour, even as he met his first blow.

The scimitar was even faster than the dark fired great sword being lighter, but the damage it could do was lessened as he welded it with only one hand. Critically though Yorik noticed his shield work wasn't as good as it should have been either. Possibly his offhand had been damaged from the hammer blow, and Yorik used that. With each counter strike Yorik managed to drive the paladin's shield deep into his chest, knocking him backwards again and again.

It was a crude technique, punishing his already injured wrist, but it was effective and they both knew it, which was why Cavutos kept launching spell after spell at him, all of them thankfully missing as his defences and counter spells kept him safe. Soon it was time to strike back himself Yorik knew, and he readied himself for the assault.

“Ladies light.”

It was a tiny spell, something Cavutos surely couldn't have expected, and therefore couldn't have prepared for, but as he countered yet another pair of over and under blows from the scimitar his own blade seemed to catch fire with the light of the sun, temporarily blinding his foe. Then, even as he prepared himself to take the counter on his shield as he had fifty times before, Yorik struck cleanly at his other hand holding the scimitar, bringing the great sword directly down upon his steel gauntlet.

The result was everything he wanted as the gauntlet gave way under the impact, while the scimitar went flying free and Cavutos' hand shattered. Best of all in Cavutos' confusion he gave Yorik a second chance to strike. So he cut inside his shield before it could return and struck at his side, just underneath his armpit. It was another perfect blow that cracked his back and front plates where they joined and probably smashed a few ribs even as the paladin went flying in great cartwheels through the air and into the trees bordering the clearing.

Then suddenly it was Cavutos' turn to strike back and even as he landed lightly on his feet he began summoning, something Yorik hadn't realised the Iron Hand could do. But he didn't have time to wonder about his abilities as a horde of oversized golden panthers arrived from out of nowhere to strike at him and Yorik had to duck and dodge their lightning fast attacks even as he started chopping off bits and pieces off them. All the time he knew, his foe was recovering his strength, pulling his armour back together before it fell apart, binding his damaged wrists, and rearming himself. It was a capable summoning, worthy of a true wizard. The Iron Hand had clearly been working on their magic over the years.

Moving perhaps faster and more cleanly than he ever had in his life, Yorik began dancing and leaping over the tops of the panthers, beheading them in their twos and threes and soon, a dozen or more of the great beasts were dead at his feet. But the time he had spent killing them had given Cavutos the time he needed to recover, and he was quickly armed and carrying a shield strapped to his damaged hand to cover the damage done to both it and his armour, and a rapier. He looked angry too, and that rage was surely just going to make him stronger.

A heartbeat later Yorik discovered how right he was as the steel paladin ran at him with such speed as to be almost invisible. He'd used some magic to speed himself up even more than before, and Yorik was barely able to get out of his way as he felt the rapier strike at his other cheek and draw some more blood. He'd been going for his eyes and crippled as he was the steel paladin had still only just missed. That was a worry. The more injured he became it seemed the faster and deadlier he became.

“Vitalis!”

Two could play at that game Yorik decided, and even as he was cart-wheeling out of the way, he cast the spell to grant him even more speed and stamina, and by that stage of the battle he was certain his magic would be stronger than that of his foe. He was right too as he got to his feet and discovered Cavutos running at him in another blinding attack, only to find that he actually seemed slower than he had at the start. It was the work of a heartbeat to bring his great sword down on his other gauntlet clad hand and watch as it too shattered and another sword went flying into the trees followed by its owner as he planted his armoured boot directly in his groin.

This time when the paladin smashed into the trees at the edge of the clearing, he did not drop lightly to the ground. He tumbled and barely kept his feet. Then he stood there, doubled over and in pain. The battle was Yorik's.

“You may cede if you wish.”

Yorik made the offer as was expected. The Iron Hand would not have granted such an offer to an injured and defeated opponent – they always went for the kill. But it was the right thing to do for a paladin of the Order of the Lady.

“Never!” Cavutos screamed it at him as if he'd cursed him with his offer. Perhaps by the rules of their order he had.

“Demon!”

For the first time Yorik heard the panic and despair in the paladin's voice as he cast what was surely his last and his strongest spell. He would have heard more if the steel paladin had realised that that was never a spell to be cast against a paladin of the Order of the Lady. For the moment he heard that word Yorik knew his duty.

“Lady guide me.”

For the first time in this disgraceful bout, Yorik felt clarity of purpose as he called upon the grace and power of the Lady to guide him even as he watched the demon being summoned in front of him. The Lady knew it too even as she possessed him, turned his sword into a blaze of sunlight and fire. It sliced right through the partially forming demon, and then the steel paladin in turn even as he watched his creation being sent back to whatever evil realm it had come from.

Heartbeats later, her work done, the Lady left him and Yorik found himself standing on his feet, his great sword held out straight in front of him and the paladin of the Iron Hand in two bloody, smoking pieces in front of him. He was dead, the demon was gone, unsummoned even before it had fully entered this world, and the battle was over. He felt good and clean, and yet at the same time, saddened by the sight of Cavutos, a paladin who had once been a man, dead at his feet. But at least he was alive, and the party was alive.

“You are defeated.”

He didn't have to say it as he stared at the remains of his foe, but it was expected and to a paladin of the Iron Hand, it was tradition. It was also a signal as out of the woods all around the clearing, and from around the rest of his party as well, people started appearing, soldiers, archers and spellcasters, servants and of course witnesses and recorders. Every challenge met and won or lost had to be recorded. There were also two boys with them, both of whom were by the looks of things, novitiates hoping one day to become the paladins who would better their former master in time and no doubt kill him to prove it. Both of them approached him.

“As is custom what was his is yours slayer of Cavutos.”

They both bowed to him as was considered proper among their Order. The gesture angered him, but more than that it saddened him. Already their lives were ruined. Still, he had to try.

“Do not bow to me children! I am Yorik son of Heric, paladin of the Order of the Lady, and her humble servant only. If you must bow to someone bow to the Lady. In any case I did not slay your master. He killed himself when he foolishly summoned a demon in my presence, and the Lady took his life as was proper. Remember that if nothing else. No demons may walk this world, ever. My Lady does not allow it.”

“What was his is now the property of the Order of the Lady. You may deliver it to them at Hammeral with the exception of his servants and slaves who are now free. The Order does not accept such vile practices.”

Yorik sheathed his sword, letting the anger and the rage subside within him along with a lot of the magic that was still coursing through his flesh, even though he knew he would soon be collapsing with exhaustion.

“And remember this too. Often the greatest strength is in knowing who to follow, who to trust, and who to stand with. The only honour is always in doing what is right. There was no honour in this duel. There was no victory in defeating your master, only survival.”

“Sooner or later all who walk the path of violence will find themselves its victims. Find yourselves another path before this road consumes your souls and your lives both.”

He knew there was probably little point in trying to persuade them from the path they were on. The scars all over their faces and bodies told him they'd already gone too far down it. He couldn't imagine the tortures they'd already endured, but he knew that their wills were already broken, and what remained of the children they had once been was being re-shaped towards violence. Yet he had to try.

With no more than that – there was nothing more to say – he walked back to his party, trying to keep his knees solid though all he really wanted to do was fall to the ground and let the darkness claim him. But that would not have looked good, least of all after what he'd just told the pages, and somehow he made it, and even managed to drag himself into his saddle.

“I could have taken them.”

Myral looked far from happy as he turned to face him, probably because his aid had been rejected, and in a sense he was right. His power was surely such that he could have, had he prepared for the battle. But he hadn't been given the chance. They would never have allowed that.

“Without knowing how many there were? Where they were? How they were all armed? Without at least one of our party being killed or injured Elder? Maybe. But I regret that I could not allow that chance. I could not allow others to be harmed in my stead. And I could not allow this mission to end. This journey must succeed. At least if I was defeated no one else would be harmed and the mission would continue. Besides, he was evil, his order is evil, and perhaps some good has been done here today. Perhaps some have heard my words, have learnt a lesson.”

“Not from your technique. You still held your sword too low at times, you didn't use your overhand strike even once, and you waited too long to strike back with your magic. Your injury is still troubling you?”

Captain Ysabel was suddenly the very tonic Yorik needed for his soul as she critiqued his fight, and despite himself he threw back his head and laughed. It had been too long since he had had something to laugh about. He could have kissed her.