There was a chance that Frisha was truly waiting for him. She did not possess the Skills to elude him, so it was unlikely she was the assailant. Shezar seemed to think he had imagined the attack in the woods, and the cook had been equally confused about the poisoning. No one had witnessed those events, and he was lacking evidence. This time, he had the note to prove his sanity.
The moment Rezkin stepped beyond the corveua, he was forced to swipe an arrow from the air. Two more followed. As he spun to avoid them, one cut through the ribbon at his nape, causing his hair to spill over his shoulders. He searched in the direction from which the arrow had come and caught only a glimpse of a fleeing figure. He was careful to remain cognizant of his surroundings as he ran after the assailant. He had no idea how many lay in wait. The cloaked figure scaled a garden wall with ease, glancing back, as if in challenge. Rezkin caught a glimpse of white teeth beneath the hood. The attacker had smiled at him. He followed the intruder over the wall and down the hill into a gully at the edge of the valley. The maze of steep embankments cut back and forth across a swath of dry streambeds. As he tracked the attacker, he caught sight of the figure in a channel adjacent to him. He knew it was only a matter of time before he lost track of the perpetrator.
At the next intersection, Rezkin ran up the face of the embankment, grasping roots, and digging his fingers into the loamy clay. He scrambled atop the broken earth, leaping over the crevices between the grassy blocks of the broken surface. A scuff to his right caught his attention. He leapt to the next block but heard the whistle too late. He was midair when the arrow caught him in the thigh. It was a glancing blow, a flesh wound, but he realized the assailant had somehow gotten behind him.
As Rezkin landed, he flung a throwing star toward his attacker. A hand whipped out from behind a block to catch the star and lob it back at him. Rezkin now knew for certain that the assailant had intentionally missed in the original attacks against him. The open attack, the poisoning, the letter—they were all intended to lure him beyond the corveua, to this place. He hugged the ground as he scanned and listened. Was it to be an ambush? Was it a test? How many intruders had invaded his island, and how had the shielreyah not known of it? He already had suspicions as to who his attacker might be. The method and motive were what eluded him.
The attacker obviously desired pursuit. Rezkin had a choice. He could continue to play the game, or he could wait for the attacker to come to him. If he chose the latter, he risked the intruder disappearing and bringing harm his people. Hugging the ground, he backed to the other side of the block and then slipped over the edge. His feet settled in the loose dirt of the streambed. He focused, casting his senses about his surroundings. His breaths were deep and long as he listened. The musky smell of earth hung strongly in the air. A slight breeze rustled the grass above, and somewhere in the distance, seagulls squawked. Then, he felt it—the slightest tingle. It was barely discernable from the natural buzz of the life that surrounded him. He padded toward the sensation on silent feet, slipping Kingslayer from its fur-lined sheath. The prickle that danced across his skin grew stronger, and its source shifted closer to him.
Rezkin raised his sword and struck as he rounded the block. His blade met steel as he came face to face with his attacker. The man ducked when Rezkin threw a punch. The man rolled to the side, out of Rezkin’s reach and then attacked in an overhanded strike. Rezkin dodged as he brought his sword up under the man’s extended arm toward his exposed side. Rather than twisting away from the strike, as would most, the man twisted into it, smacking Rezkin’s blade away using a previously concealed dirk.
After the failed attack, the man whipped his dirk back, scoring the armor covering Rezkin’s abdomen. Rezkin blocked a low attack, shifted feet, and kicked his leg up, arcing around to hook the man’s neck. He locked the assailant’s head behind his knee and blocked a strike from the dirk with his vambrace. He released Kingslayer and grabbed each of the man’s arms, wrenching them so that they could no longer grip. He and the assailant fell to the ground with Rezkin wrapped tightly around the man.
To Rezkin’s surprise, his attacker squirmed and shifted until he managed to free himself from Rezkin’s grip. The man rolled to his feet, drew another hidden dagger, and stabbed at him several times as Rezkin ducked and dodged. Rezkin grabbed for the man’s arm, but the man was fast. The battle energy simmered just below the surface in his chest. The stone that rested there warmed as he released the energy in a quick succession of hand strikes. Then, he spun low to the ground, sweeping the man’s legs from beneath him. The man recovered quickly and issued his own attack. Rezkin noticed that the man’s speed was dependent on Rezkin maintaining his distance. As he worked his way into the man’s guard, he withdrew two knives. In a flurry of slashes, most of which the assailant managed to block, Rezkin began to overwhelm him. He ducked a punch, and in return, offered a sharp blow to the man’s jaw. With another to the torso, the man went down. He quickly rolled away from Rezkin but remained on his knees looking up at him.
Rezkin was about to launch another attack when the man said, “If you kill me, you will never have your answers.” Rezkin stepped forward, and the man backed away. The man said, “When you did not know who I was, I could excuse the exchange. Now that you do, I shall be forced to fight you to the death if you persist.” Rezkin swept forward with unmatched speed, grabbing the man by the collar and placing a knife to his throat. The man said, “You should not close the distance unless you know I am unarmed.”
“I am aware that you still possess multiple weapons. I am also aware that divesting you of those weapons would not make you less dangerous. You did not bring me here for a duel to the death. What do you want?”
The man smiled. “I want to give you answers—in exchange for a price.”
“You are willing to share information?”
“On a few conditions,” said the man. “Let me go.”
“You went to a lot of effort to make me catch you.”
“Yes, I have my reasons, but we should not have this conversation here. Release me, and I will come to your office with my companion in one hour.”
Rezkin narrowed his eyes. “You are more likely to disappear.”
The man shrugged. “If I do, you will catch me again.”
“I do not have time for games,” said Rezkin.
“Nor do I. It is imperative that you and I come to an agreement—for both our sakes.”
Rezkin thought about the man’s proposal for only a breath. While it was dangerous to allow him to live, he might be the only one in any of the kingdoms who could give him answers. He also knew that the man would not, could not, be taken into custody.
Rezkin released him and stepped back. “Very well. One hour.”