An animator.
The animator spoke, too softly for Miro to hear. The tablet flared to life, the runes glowing silver. The brown-robed man touched the tablet at a particular place. A matrix of runes there changed colour. The animator’s lips moved again.
Miro heard the sound of movement, coming from the shadows. Heavy steps, crunching into the sandy floor. A metallic creaking.
A construct, black as night, stepped out of the darkness to stand in front of its animator, only paces away. It turned to face Miro. Its eyes were red, its mouth a narrow gash. Symbols covered every part of it. Some were activated, giving it a soft silver glow. It carried a long black sword.
It stood there, its chest pulsing, limbs glistening, heaving in a grotesque parody of breathing. A strange sighing sound came from its body as it pulsed. It had been awakened. It was alive.
It was a golem.
Miro had only seen a golem once before, in the Halrana market house in Seranthia. Raj Halaran’s most deadly fighters, used as assassins or bodyguards. They required a fearful amount of essence to construct, were terribly complex to animate. And he was about to fight one.
Miro looked at the robed man. The animator smiled.
Some more gestures at the tablet and more runes were activated, the animator calling them in quick succession.
The iron golem flared and twitched, different colours — greens, blues and reds — glaring from its body. Its eyes grew bright, still a menacing red. It raised its sword - in salute, Miro realised.
Miro took a deep breath. This was going to require every bit of skill he had. He knew there would be no help from the outside, and a single blow of that sword with the unbelievable strength of those metal limbs behind it would sorely test his armoursilk.
Miro reached over his shoulder, feeling the hilt of his zenblade comforting in his hands. He drew the sword.
Steadily, with no room for error, he began his song.
His sword grew bright, brighter with each sequence, white as lightning. The armoursilk stayed dark.
The golem started walking towards Miro, ponderous, inevitable.
Miro controlled his panic. He began his song again, this time with the most basic sequence for armoursilk protection, letting the sword fade altogether.
The armoursilk did nothing. His words were having no effect.
The golem drew closer, moving faster now, starting to run. It would soon pin Miro against the wall. Miro leapt to the side.
The sword whistled through the air, where Miro had stood less than a heartbeat ago.
Miro thought furiously. What was happening? He knew his song. The inflections were correct. The sword was behaving as it should.
Then with a heart-stopping lurch he realised.
A bladesinger’s tools were attuned to that particular warrior. His zenblade and armoursilk were coded for a specific activation sequence, slightly different from that of the man next to him. Otherwise their songs would interfere with each other — their words would clash. Each item had a certain sequence that had to be uttered in the correct part of the song. A bladesinger could easily use another’s sword or armour, provided he knew the code.
Miro wasn’t wearing his own armoursilk. It had been substituted with someone else’s. He didn’t know the sequence for this armoursilk.
He ducked a vicious blow from the golem, and lunged to the side as the construct followed it with another, then two more slashes in quick succession. The second slash missed him by a finger’s width. Miro dove behind a stone block.
Who had done it? The answer came to him with a cold feeling of dread: Ronell. It would have been simple, no problem at all. He could always plead innocence and no one would be able to prove otherwise.
With no other choice ahead of him, Miro concentrated on the zenblade. He ignored the sequences for the armoursilk and chanted the runes for the zenblade in quick succession. The sword turned white. His song came clear from his lips, rising up and echoing from the walls of the cavernous stone chamber.
Miro walked sideways, keeping the golem within his sight at all times. He put a tall column between them. The golem swung its shining metal arms, the sword arcing out faster than the eye could follow, passing through the column like a fish through the water, as if it wasn’t even there.
The creature hissed — a terrible sound — and leapt forward, pushing itself at Miro, maintaining the initiative. Miro fell back. Suddenly he tripped over a low block of stone, falling backward over it. The golem leapt forward. Miro swung with his sword. The zenblade crashed against the black sword with an explosion of sparks. The creature thrust its sword in turn. Miro tried to block it with his own.