Soul Fire

Soul Fire - Chapter 23

Sword clasped in his hand and two steps in front of his father, Jerodai of Asillia brought the deadliest warrior of his kingdom to Cretia's streets. His blood burned with excitement at the prospect of his father's revenge.

Jerodai and Malithas had been charged with guarding Asillia's heirs. As their mandate had proven a challenge too difficult to surmount, they would compensate the King with the head of the man who had brought ruin to his sons. Though he had initially joined them, one look into the eyes of Malithas and Jerodai told Salidon it was wiser to stay behind.

Three became two.

The men of Asillia set forth as instruments of vengeance. As Dathion slowly bled his final strands of life into black mist, Malithas and his son brought the promise of a far more immediate death.

Destiny guided their steps. Before long, they chanced upon a skirmish yet to be resolved. A glance from Malithas drew a curt nod from Jerodai. The men fighting the Merchant Guards were identified by their wicked, black blades. The Cretian guards fought bravely. Man for man they provided an even contest but they were outnumbered. Panic fed the urgency in their voices.

"Run, get help!"

The guards of Cretia numbered three, with two already slowed by their wounds.

Their opponents numbered five.

The aggressors toyed with the Cretians, savoring their inevitable demise by way of feints and shallow cuts. The voice of Malithas drew pause from both sets of combatants.

"We are help. More than you will ever need."

Two of the black-cloaked men moved to intercept the father and son of Asillia. Confidence swaggered their steps, while boasts of victory spilled from their mouths. Their feet danced and their wickedly-edged blades cut black lines through the night-chilled air in a show of bravado. They growled and snarled as they charged.

The Sword of Llanos answered their challenge.

It drew fuel from an anger of its own, though its origins remained pure. The artifact twirled in the hand of Malithas, the blade spinning through a complete arc as he met their strikes with a devastating slash of his own. A sharp retort sounded, like a clap of thunder. The blades of the man shattered as though made of glass. All who bore witness imagined a flare from the sword of Malithas though in truth it shed no light.

Undiminished in his intent, Malithas drove the sword of Llanos through the first man's chest, twisting his arm violently before kicking the dying man from the length of his blade. His trust in his son absolute, Malithas strode toward the remaining men, his flank unguarded. Jerodai would let none approach.

Indeed, the swords of another man proved too slow. Darting to the man's right, Jerodai slashed open the muscles along his thrusting arm. The man's cries of agony fed Jerodai's need for revenge. A single thrust through his throat extinguished the light from the man's eyes and silenced his screams.

No foes as trivial as these could vanquish them. Malithas and his son numbered two. The five who faced them could have been a horde. The outcome would have been the same.

A dozen skirmishes ended at the hands of Malithas and Jerodai that night. Despair rippled amongst the men who had invaded Cretia under the cloak of darkness. The bringers of fear now knew terror themselves whenever father and son found them. The shadows that had once assured their victory and afforded them strength could no longer protect or sustain them. The Sword of Llanos ran red with the blood of her enemies. Malithas had ceased wiping the blade clean.

But still, the one they sought eluded them.

As the first rays of dawn's light filtered through cluttered buildings, then rose above the wall which had stood impotently against Cretia's invaders, Malithas and Jerodai abandoned their search. Their arms hung heavy from fatigue and their feet shuffled. They returned to the apothecary, with dread already blanketing their hearts at what they might find. The Storm Dancers of Palia stood motionless in their continuing vigil at the door. They spared no words for the murderous pair on their return.