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Chapter 2 Cloaks in the Dark

-Lebuin-

Something passed close enough to his face that it brushed his beard and momentarily blocked the spinning mass of energy from mundane sight. He had spent the entire day using magical sight, so the fine flows of energy he was controlling remained constant.

As he tied off one of the flows, so it looped around the construction and fed from the artificial artery of power he was building, he spared a bit of concentration to glance at what had touched him. One of the masters was swinging a sword and was coming back around for another pass.

Seriously, you expect me to worry about that? Every wizard knows how to — and does — maintain a personal shield all the time.

A split second later, another thought brought a healthy dose of adrenaline and sent a shiver down his spine.

That diurdin sword passed within my shield, and this isn’t a training exercise!

Holding the minute flows under control, Lebuin diverted more power to his shield and shifted his attention to the attacker.

Cune! When did he get back?

His mind raced for more defenses as he realized who was attacking. A smirk grew on Cune’s face as he saw that Lebuin knew it wasn’t going to go well. That pass had been just a warning, so Cune could gloat over Lebuin’s failure. The one rule to the test was that some effort should be made to not kill the candidate.

Urdu, I thought he was out of the country. How did he get back here so fast? For that matter, how did he find out I was going to take the trial?

Cune did not give him any further time to wonder about the situation; he struck hard, fast, and on target. Lebuin dodged while sending a hard blast of energy, as much as he could spare without losing the artifact he was constructing. Brushing aside the magical blast as if it were nothing more than a fly sent to pester him, Cune finished his strike. His blade sang as it passed, unhindered by Lebuin’s strengthened shield, right through his left sleeve, cutting a deep gash in his arm. Pain exploded from the wound, and his hold on the artifact’s power flow wavered, threatening to ruin the entire construction and thus, signal a complete failure.

Looking down, he saw that blood was already soaking into the fine goldenrod silk of his shirtsleeve, and some had splattered on his doublet.

You ruined my best doublet! And I almost dropped the power flow. No, you don’t, you bastard. You’re not going to take this from me!

Reaching out to the earth line, he tapped it, adding its power to the air and water energies he was already channeling. Spinning around to face Cune, he waited for his opponent’s next move.

Cune either didn’t detect the additional power he was pooling, or more likely, he didn’t think Lebuin would be able to do much with it. He danced the dance of a highly trained Blade, his weight and balance shifting smoothly, remaining well distributed and low. Cune brought the sword around again for another attack, lunging hard and fast. Almost too late, Lebuin released all the pooled earth mana, aiming for the floor where Cune’s front foot was going to land. The ground disintegrated in an explosion of dirt and rock. Cune, caught off guard, dropped halfway into the hole before his forward momentum brought his gut into contact with the edge of it. He hit so hard he folded in half, causing his face to slap the stone floor with enough force to smash his nose. The sword broke free from his extended hand and skittered to the far wall.

Dirt, dust, and debris parted around Lebuin as it moved to fill the room. A murmur from the observation deck could be heard as Lebuin cautiously waited for Cune’s next move. As the dust started to settle, he saw Cune still lying where he hit. Expecting a surprise attack at any moment, Lebuin approached his nemesis, who lay half in the deep hole, half face-down on the stone floor, with blood pooling around his head.