Steel And Flame (Book 1) (75 page)

The knight swung wildly, unlike his earlier
controlled, calculating manner.  Caught unawares by the attack’s untamed fury,
Marik jumped backward a second too late.  A gash opened across his leg where
the sword tip ripped through his breeches.  Marik required several moments to
regain his balance.

His battle cool slipped.  Anger clouded his emotions. 
Marik slid behind the knight after dodging a downward strike, then unleashed a
furious blow, this time with the spiked side.

Either the helm had weakened from the previous blow or
his enhanced strength and anger pushed the hammer further than it otherwise
would have.  The spike pierced the helm’s steel, sinking deep like a razor into
lather.  A bloody fan exploded forcefully through the helm’s visor.  Marik
felled his second Nolier knight.

It interested Marik, as he watched the lord send
another knight against him, how he could read emotion even through that heavy
armor.  The cool calm of battlefield command had dissipated from the enameled
platemail.  In its place grew rage and fury at the loss of his men.  Exactly
how Marik could read this change through the expressionless steel mystified
him.

When Marik’s third knight arrived, a scream drowned
the other battle noises.  He glanced at Colbey.  The scout had dashed behind
his adversary, much closer than Marik would have dared, and with a short dagger
he pulled from his boot, reached his arm around to stab through the helm’s
vision slits, imitating Marik’s sword thrust on the first knight.  Unlike
Marik’s sword, the shorter blade could not penetrate the entire head beneath
the helm.  The armored figure staggered in uncoordinated steps while he
shrieked, clawing at his face, trying to pull out the dagger puncturing his
eye.

Marik dodged around his opponent before Colbey, with a
second dagger, coldly stepped close behind the armored figure.  He lifted the
aventail chain curtain falling around the knight’s shoulders from the helmet’s
base and drove his dagger into the neck through the chink between helm and
cuirass.  The shrieking stopped.  Colbey withdrew his dagger and held it at the
ready with his sword, now armed with weapons in each hand as well.

The third knight facing Marik had benefited from
watching the previous two.  He remained further back and refrained from
swinging fully with his sword, remaining on guard while he followed Marik’s
circling.

Marik adopted more aggressive tactics in hopes the
knight would leave him an opening.  When the Nolier blocked with his blade,
Marik used the war hammer to attack his armor.  Invariably, the knight would
either shift the blade to catch the hammer’s blow or smash one gauntleted hand
against the oncoming hammer shaft to deflect it.

The knight’s sword was heavier than Marik’s.  While
his new strength could meet it and prevent the superior size and weight from pushing
him back, that came at a cost.  In every exchange of sword on sword, Marik’s
blade took greater damage.  Small dents and chips marred the steel edge.  If
the fight continued without respite, they would develop into full blown cracks
that would break the blade.

Were the knight less heavily protected by his armor,
Marik would have taken a page from Beld’s book and smashed the man’s face with
a fist.  Except striking the helm in this instance would shatter every bone in
his hand.

His time sense distorted.  How long had he been
fighting this knight?  Marik’s breath panted from exertion.  The magical
strength pushed him beyond the limits to which his most strenuous training
sessions had ever brought him.  Worse than that, he felt his power reserves
running low again.  He would lose his advantage if the fight did not end
quickly.

Marik had been so focused on his own fight it
surprised him when Colbey appeared behind the knight without warning.  Before
the knight could react to this sudden threat, the scout dug at the helm,
stabbing at the visor with his dagger.

The knight twisted harshly and reached back for
Colbey.  Marik rushed forward.  He swung hard, the hammer spike tearing through
the helm where it covered the knight’s neck as though it were made from parchment. 
Under the tremendous pressure, the wooden handle splintered with a harsh
snap
before the head could rip through the opposite side.

The knight twitched inside his armor where he lay on
the ground.  The hammer’s jagged shaft protruded from his neck like an axe from
a tree stump.  Marik spared a glance to see that Colbey had felled his third
foe before turning to help him.

For the first time Marik heard the cheers and shouts
from the Galemaran soldiers behind.  Strange how he only now noticed that.  To
him, the hell chorus of clashing steel, the dying, the arrow song, the
desperation and the all-out battle had faded from his ears during his
death-match.  In fact, the fighting along the line had stopped altogether for a
distance east and west after soldiers on both sides stepped back to watch the
bout.  Their impromptu arena’s area had grown considerably thanks to this. 
Marik knew not who this lord under the armor might be, but he must have earned
his men’s regard.

Thoughts returning to the remaining warrior, Marik
turned as the lord-knight galloped forward.  Clearly he had reached his limit. 
His six knights had been cut down, raising Galemaran morale.  Disdaining to
dismount as the others had, he rode straight at Colbey and Marik.  Perhaps the
ethical codes his knighthood demanded no longer held sway since both
mercenaries had gone two-on-one to kill the last duelist.  Or perhaps he’d
grown too furious to care.

Marik grabbed what etheric energy he could in the
single available moment.  He exhaled hard, his body exhausted, barely setting
his strength working into place before the lord-knight reached them.  The horse
screamed in a high-pitched shriek.  They dove to either side.  Its hooves were
completely shod in iron, not merely the undersides as was traditionally the
case.  Catching a hoof to the head under normal circumstances would kill.  With
these, no doubt his head would burst like a dropped melon.

When he regained his feet he saw that the watching
soldiers on both sides had stepped back, to widen the dueling field even more. 
The horse would have lacked room to turn before and repeat the charge.  Noliers
shoved back enthusiastically to allow their lord’s mount the space it needed. 
Galemarans shoved back too in order to avoid the combat-trained beast.

The lord-knight charged at Colbey while Marik
scrambled to the nearest fallen armored figure.  Colbey dodged death from both
the war-horse and the giant blade by leaping aside.  His quick action afforded
him no chance to launch his own offensive.  Following the charge, the rider
stormed at Marik, yet pulled up short.  Marik had planned to dodge aside so the
horse could stumble over the armored body…except this Nolier saw through the
pathetic ruse.

Instead, he hauled sharply on the reins.  His horse to
reared and lashed out with its hooves.

Marik jerked back.  He tripped over the armored corpse
in the same fashion he had meant for the animal.  The horse regained all four
hooves to advance on Marik, the massive sword raised above its rider’s head.

But it did not fall on Marik.  Colbey dashed from
behind, intent on hamstringing the horse.  The lord-knight saw him coming.  He
turned his mount surprisingly fast and lashed at Colbey with the downward blow
before spurring his horse onward.

A second time the agile scout escaped while Marik
regained his feet.  On the arena’s far end, the lord repositioned to charge
anew.

Colbey jumped to Marik’s side.  “He’ll expect us to
split when we dodge,” he hissed from the corner of his mouth.  “He will follow
you to his right since that is his smart hand’s side.  Follow me instead.  And
we must get rid of the horse first.”

Marik nodded minutely while the rider bore down.  He
prepared to dodge alongside Colbey rather than to his left, seeing, as the
mounted figure neared, that the scout had guessed correctly.  The reins were
wrapped around the armored left hand, held to the right over the horse’s neck,
in preparation to being yanked in that direction.

The horse loomed, frothed saliva flying.  Marik
imagined he could feel hot, damp breath blowing back his hair.  A flash of
movement signaled Colbey’s leap at the same moment he unleashed his own coiled
muscles.  As he dove to safety on Colbey’s heels, the rider turned his horse to
give him a clear angle for cutting down at the place he had anticipated Marik. 
Instead, he found nothing but empty air.  When Marik thudded to the dirt, the
furious lord sawed harshly on the horse’s reins to turn it.

Colbey dashed forward, sword in hand, then was forced
to dodge when the lord kicked out with a pointed steel sabaton.  The Nolier
spurred his horse into motion.  He withdrew from Colbey’s reach and readied a
new attack for Marik.

While Colbey had made his attempt on the lord-knight,
Marik considered how to fell the horse.  Full barding of chainmail curtains
hung down to its ankles.  The hooves were shod completely in metal to give the
horse an extra advantage in combat, yet for a short distance above the hoof
stretched bare skin.  This would be the only place vulnerable to attack, except
he could only strike it while the horse galloped.

The chainmail bounced up and down while the hooves
beat their rhythm upon the ground.  When the hoof descended to the dirt, the
chain still bounced upward.  That would be the clearest moment to attack. 
Since he could not run as fast as the horse, even in the confines of this ring,
his only chance would come while dodging as the horse stormed past.

Here his chance came.  The lord-knight whirled from
Colbey to ride at him, choosing to dispatch the least agile and troublesome of
the pair first.

Marik held his blade low, waiting for the right
moment.

I have to dodge right again; to his left.  Slashing
down from a horse on your dumb side is ineffective, especially with your reins
in that hand, but he might expect me to go that way since I did last time. 
Only one thing to do…

With the horse still several yards away, Marik
shuffled a few steps to his left like a nervous soldier terrified at facing the
superior warrior any longer.  The lord-knight began turning to follow.

Marik dashed back to the right, dodging low, his sword
point trailing along the ground, cutting a furrow in the dirt.  When the
horse’s head passed inches away, he brought his sword up in a speeding arc,
whipping it forward and low.

The horse screamed loudly, but not in battle fury this
time.  Still traveling forward, the horse’s motion, and everything else, slowed
to a near standstill for Marik.  Slowly tumbling to the ground, the severed
hoof and ankle spun lazily, a gleaming blood spiral spilling through the air
behind.  As the spiral’s outer curves widened, the strangely elegant line broke
into elongated ovals, then perfect spherical droplets shining wetly.  The horse
continued for a long moment until it finally started to tumble almost
majestically, its head lowering while it tilted to one side, thick saliva
streams breaking away from billowing lips.  Its screams were inaudible to Marik
inside the bizarre null-time.

A heartbeat before the impact, hardly any time at all
yet consuming ages while Marik watched, the lord-knight fought to throw himself
clear from his mount.  He freed his feet and tossed aside the reins, but his
leap could not separate the two entirely.  The crash of armored man and horse
into the ground at running speed, as well as the horse’s shrill screams, could
be heard by every fighter around the center catapult.

Time resumed with no warning while the lord thrashed
nearly as much as his horse.  He finally escaped the dying animal before Colbey
could close and finish him in the confusion.  This Nolier showed surprisingly
few injuries for a man just thrown, and strength to match Marik’s magically
enhanced own.  The lord-knight recovered his sword.  In bare moments he
advanced on them.

One wing on his helm had bent though he showed no
other sign of his fall.  His speed was amazing, especially considering the
amount of armor he bore.  He quickly fell on Colbey, forcing the scout to
back-step, then suddenly turned to lash at Marik.

Marik blocked the first blow.  It rang through his
entire arm.  He stumbled when a second blow fell against his blade and might
have missed blocking the next if Colbey had not attacked in a frenzy.

The scout pulled out all the stops.  His speed was
incredible to behold.  A storm of blows rained down on the lord-knight, most
caught or deflected.  Several connected with vital spots no longer vulnerable
under their steel coating.  Colbey’s blade bounced off, leaving not so much as
a scratch on the red-stained armor.

Marik moved behind the lord-knight in an effort to
attract his attention so Colbey could find a weak point.  The lord took
exception to that.  He stepped to his side, allowing neither the advantage of
his back.

They rushed him from the front and split to either
side.  Thus occupied, both were able to land several blows that would have
ended the fight were it not for the damnable armor.

All three stepped back from each other to reevaluate. 
Colbey and Marik considered the situation, and the lord-knight began circling
in preparation for his next assault.  The cheers from the Noliers and the
Galemarans battered Marik’s ears.  He knew this could go on until nightfall at
this rate, so decided on his next move with little regard for the danger
involved.