‘Impressive,’ said the Deathpriest, his expression changing.
‘Not by half; by the time I reached the struggle, he had killed another Deathknight with his newly-acquired sword and had wounded another grievously. He stood defiant, not a hint of fear, daring me and others to come and die. I knew at that moment I needed to take him into my service, to train him for some special role. Now I understand why I was fated that day to take him in; the Dark One has marked him for a higher calling.’
‘Apparently,’ said the Deathpriest. He made an imperceptible motion with one hand and the guard closest to Bek moved. His hand shot down to the hilt of his sword and in a single motion he drew it, and with a looping arc, aimed it for Bek’s neck. But before the blade had cleared the scabbard, Bek had moved just enough to his right to draw his own sword, reach back and drive it home. While the palace guard’s blow cut through empty air, Bek drove his own blade through the man’s stomach, punching through his armour and completely through his body, so that the point protruded from his back.
Martuch and Hirea stepped back to draw their own swords while Nakor moved away, ignored for the moment, but ready to defend himself and Bek with whatever ‘tricks’ might be needed.
But to everyone’s surprise, the Deathpriest shouted, ‘Hold!’ The second palace guard stood ready to attack, but held his place.
Bek grinned at the Deathpriest. ‘A test?’
‘Impressive,’ repeated the Deathpriest. He looked at Martuch. ‘You would not be the first head of a family to embellish the accomplishments of a called warrior, to gain reflected glory for your house and society. I found it hardly credible, the story you told, but now…’ He glanced to where Bek easily pulled his blade free of the man’s corpse and added, ‘I believe this young man, with a sword he had never wielded before that night, killed two—’
‘Three,’ interrupted Martuch. ‘The wounded warrior died a short time after.’
‘—three of your Deathknights.’ He turned to Bek. ‘Stand up.’
Bek did so and if he had been impressive sitting on the bench, he was now doubly so, for if anything his Dasati guise had made him even larger and more menacing than he was in human form. Martuch said, ‘It was a more than fair bargain. He is the equal of a dozen men.’
‘This one will rise quickly, I think,’ said the Deathpriest. He glanced at Nakor. ‘Is this Bek’s Attender?’
‘Yes,’ said Martuch. ‘I gave this thing to him some time ago.’
‘Come with me,’ said the Deathpriest to Bek, and Nakor followed the young man.
Silently, Nakor sent up a short prayer to whatever kind god might just happen to listen. He took one moment to give Martuch and Hirea a quick glance over his shoulder, then followed his strange young companion into the heart of evil.
Pug was nearly exhausted by the time they landed. One unanticipated consequence of their chosen method of travel had been a particularly vicious flying predator that had a keener perception than most. An almost disastrous attack several hundred feet above the surface of another canton of the city had nearly caused him to lose control, which would have killed them all, less than an hour into their journey. He and Macros together destroyed the flock of winged killers, while Magnus kept them from falling to their death below.
Since that first encounter, Pug had had to fine-tune his spell of invisibility to cover a range of the spectrum beyond that which the Dasati eye could see, as well as somehow defeat those creatures that hunted by heat. He had used his prodigious ability to fashion such a mystical masking, literally on the fly, but the cost had been one of near-exhaustion by the time they reached their final destination.
Valko had endured the journey with a stoicism that would have shamed a Tsurani, Pug thought. If a young Dasati warrior could be termed ‘likable’, then Valko was such. He only mentioned his almost uncontrollable desire to murder them twice, but the context was how difficult he judged his personal struggle with new concepts and leaving old values behind, which was as close as any Dasati came to being personally revealing, Pug decided. In a very alien way, it was admirable.
They reached a mountain stronghold that was invisible to all but the most powerful scrying magic, but Pug had no difficulty sensing it as they approached. Perhaps it was a result of the manipulation he had been controlling for almost a full day as they jumped halfway around the world. Macros let out an audible sigh of relief when they touched the ground, and said, ‘I had none of your burdens, Pug, but I fear my constitution is far less robust than what it once was.’
‘Is there any danger in approaching this enclave?’ asked Magnus, who seemed relatively fresh despite his efforts over the last day and more. Pug was impressed by his son’s endurance.