Marked for Death

Chapter 61

As Kandler and Xalt struggled with the changeling, Sallah cradled the unconscious Brendis in her arms.

“You can’t go to the Flame yet, my brother,” she said as she placed her hands on either side of his head. He was so pale that the blood on his face almost seemed to glow red.

“May the Silver Flame reignite the fire that burns within you,” Sallah said, enunciating each word. “May it commend you into the arms of the world so that you may continue to serve its sacred cause.” Her hands began to glow with a warm, silvery light. “And may it light your way throughout your life.”

The glow ran from Sallah’s hands until it covered Brendis from head to toe. It intensified for a moment, growing so bright that Sallah had to close her eyes, then it faded away in a heartbeat’s space.

Brendis’ eyes opened as he gasped in a chestful of air. He tried to sit up but fell back just as fast, and Sallah caught him in her arms again.

“It’s all right,” she said as she brushed the hair from his face. “You’re alive.”

As the words left her mouth, her eyes flicked over to the hole the airship had burned through the floor of the arena.

There in the center, untouched by the flames, stood Bastard.

Sallah lay Brendis down on the arena’s floor. As she stood, he tried to rise to join her, but he could barely move.

“Rest,” she said. “If I fall, you’ll need your strength.”

Sallah watched as Bastard leaped over the flames and walked toward her.

“To avenge your death?” Brendis asked the lady knight.

“No,” Sallah said. She drew her sword, and the blade burst into silvery flames once again. “To run.”

Bastard cackled as Sallah strode toward him, her sword flashing with tongues of silver flame. “The daughter comes to avenge her father,” he said. “How very human.”

Sallah held her sword before her at the ready. “I’m not here for revenge,” she said. “Just for your head.”

Bastard raised his golden horn to his lips and started to speak, but Sallah raced forward and slashed at the instrument. The tip of her sword sliced off Bastard’s thumb and sent the horn spiraling away through the air.

Bastard took several steps back and glared at her.

“Surrender, and I will spare your life,” Sallah said. “I do not wish to fight a weaponless foe.”

“I have heard tales of the arrogance of the Knights of the Silver Flame, straight from the lips of the Lord of Blades. I laughed them off. I told my lord that it was impossible for such a feared people to be so foolish.” The warforged glared at Sallah. “I should never have doubted the word of my lord.”

“You refuse then?” Sallah said, holding her sword before her.

“You smug, little bag of bones,” Bastard said. “I don’t need a weapon. I am a weapon!”

The warforged lowered his shoulder and charged straight at her. He was on her before she could bring her blade to bear. She turned away at the last second, but it was too late. Bastard slammed into Sallah with both of his forearms. The spikes that ran along them punched clear through into her upper arm. She cried out and fell back on the ground.

Sallah scrambled to her feet and away from the warforged, leading him away from the others. Kandler and Xalt were occupied with Te’oma, and Brendis was in no condition to do more than be stomped to death beneath Bastard’s spiked feet.

Sallah’s blood dripping down the warforged’s shoulder, he stalked after her. “You’re as much a fool as your father,” he said. “You should flee for your life.”

Sallah stopped and stood her ground. She flexed her injured shoulder, as much to show the warforged that he hadn’t maimed her as to assure herself. She waved her blazing sword in front of her, daring the creature to attempt another attack.

“May the light of the Silver Flame shine on my efforts today,” Sallah said. As she said the words, she felt the power of her faith refresh her, and the distracting pain of her wound sloughed away.

“May you rot forever in utter darkness,” Bastard said and lunged.

Sallah slashed with her sword, but the warforged parried the blow with its forearm then swung a spiked fist at the lady knight’s head. Sallah ducked beneath the attack and spun off to her left, away from the direction of Bastard’s momentum. As she did, she reached out with her bare hand, grabbed one of the spikes along the crest of the warforged’s back, and stabbed at his back. Bastard twisted to the side, and her blow glanced off his spikes.

The warforged leader swung his arm back at Sallah and hammered at her with a flying punch. The blow landed square in her stomach and doubled her over. She retched as she spun away, splashing the contents of her last meal across the warforged’s chest. Bastard recoiled at the vomit and wiped it from itself as best it could.

“I don’t think I could describe how revolting this is,” the warforged said. “It’s disgusting enough that you breathers stuff your faces with once-living things. To have it spilled on my plates-there is no worse insult for my kind.”

Sallah wiped the last of the vomit from her mouth and flicked it at the creature. It landed on his face. “Glad to oblige,” she said.

“At least your father died with some dignity,” Bastard said as he used his thick fingers to wipe his features clean. His sapphire eyes sparkled with anger. “Being crushed to death beneath the city may be a messy way to go, but at least he was considerate enough to expire away from me.”

Sallah’s jaw fell open, and she gaped at the creature and then at the arena floor. Her father, who had mentored her as a follower of the Silver Flame her entire life, who had trained her as a knight, who had loved her as no other, lay dead somewhere beneath her feet. She shook her head, wanting to believe it was a lie. Fat, hot tears rolled out of her green eyes and down her flushed cheeks. Bastard threw back his head and laughed.

Righteous fury swelled in her and she charged, raining blow after blow down on Bastard until her arms ached with the effort. The creature fell back before the knight’s onslaught, unable to do more than raise his arms to cover his face. Most of the blows glanced off Bastard’s spikes. Some made it through to pound against the creature’s thick, tight-fitted plates. Few did him any real hurt.

Sallah was panting hard and fast. Striking aside another blow, Bastard reached out with an armored hand and shoved her in the chest. She stumbled backward, tripped over her own tired feet and fell.

Bastard looked past her. “We must finish this game now,” he said. “I prefer to fight you breathers one at a time.”

Sallah glanced back to see Kandler sprinting in her direction, but she knew he would reach her too late. She needed to do something now.

Bastard stomped toward her and she scuttled away from him on her backside. She was trapped, and she knew it. If she tried to reach her feet, the warforged would kill her. If she stopped to fight him, he would kill her. She thought about throwing her sword, but she knew is would be a pointless gesture.

“You cannot escape,” Bastard hissed as he dove at her.

Desperate to take the creature with her, Sallah jammed the pommel of her sword into the floor and pointed the tip upward at Bastard’s belly. The blade punched past the creature’s armored plates and stabbed clean through his body. For an instant, Sallah was surprised at how soft Bastard’s insides seemed to be once the sword punctured his shell, then the warforged fell on her with his full weight, slamming his spiked elbows into her chest. They stabbed through her unprotected flesh, and she felt bone break.

Bastard howled in agony and anger. Dark fluid spurted from his wound soaking them both. As her consciousness began to fall away, Sallah’s smelled something coppery and wet. She didn’t know if it was Bastard’s blood or her own.