Blue Diamonds (Book One of The Blue Diamonds Saga) (27 page)

He did this efficiently, leaving obvious openings for Baylor, only to have his staff ready and waiting to intercept each time. Rolo could have performed this dance with his eyes shut, using only his imagination and veteran instinct as his guide. He just couldn’t stop moving, and he hoped Baylor didn’t stop attacking before Kala rejoined the fray.

Baylor wondered if the giant possessed some psychic ability after his first seven lunges, a swipe at Rolo’s left thigh, a straight to the stomach, two hooks to the left shoulder, a spinning back hand to his face, and then another two shots to his stomach, of which all ended with that damn pole waiting to block him.

When Baylor pressed on to the eighth strike in the combination, he noticed something peculiar. For the entire fighting prowess Rolo had shown thus far, the big man had his left thigh wide open. In a strange way, too open, but the opening was the logical target. To test his suspicion Baylor continued to swing for the opening, but slowed his movement slightly. Sure enough Rolo dropped his left hand, positioning his staff to perfectly block the opening.

"Pretty smart," said Baylor.

Then, in mid-swing the dwarf shifted the direction of what was going to be a hook for the giant’s leg into a jumping uppercut to the big man's body. The barbed gauntlet ripped Rolo’s exposed chest from his sternum to his right shoulder.

Rolo screamed out in agony and his weapon lowered, leaving his head dangerously open. But Baylor made a mistake as he landed from his twisting punch, pausing momentarily to leer at the small victory. That moment of pride died instantly, for it was all the time Kala needed to sink two blades into Baylor’s right leg. Baylor let out a squeal as the blades drove into bone, one in his thigh just above his kneecap, the other just below.

“About time,” said Rolo.

Fearful of catching another set of the flying blades, Baylor raised his gauntlet and morphed it into an oval ice shield that blocked his right side from ankle to ear. No second wave of blades came, but the dwarf was lucky to put the shield up. For the moment Kala scored her hits Rolo spun around, putting all the strength he could muster into a powerful strike of his own. He brought his hands together on the staff, and as he turned pulled it in hard, making it whistle as it whipped through the air. What resulted was an explosion of shattered ice as the giant delivered a blow that would chop any tree in half. The dwarf flew several tumbling yards before being stopped by a tree.

“That should slow the flea down,” mumbled Rolo. He was dizzy from blood loss, and the powerful swing drained him enough to bring him to a knee.

“He’s not dead yet. We have to press,” Kala warned, keeping her eyes locked on the pile that was Baylor’s body.

On cue, a few yards from where Baylor lay twisted in a wrinkled bundle of his cloak, a golden flash resonated from behind the foliage. The flash came from Shomnath as he emerged from hiding. He’d unsheathed his sword, steadily creeping up to the dwarf to check for life. He’d been watching the fight from the shadows, waiting for his time to aid, cautious to maintain the element of surprise. From the looks of the motionless ball of purple silk lying in front of him, it seemed that he might have missed his chance.

He gripped his sword tightly in his right hand while he inched forward, stopping just within range of striking. He hesitated and looked to Kala, who hadn’t advanced but was still watching intently, blades waiting in both of her palms. He made eye contact with her and was met by a glare of urgency, as if she wanted to scream
just do it!

Shomnath stabbed down hard, aiming for the bulge at the center of the cloak. The sound of metal striking against stone that followed was loud enough for Kala and Rolo to hear it from where they stood. Shomnath nearly dropped his sword from the surprising impact. He twisted the tip of his blade, which barely penetrated the silky material, and then jerked his wrist up so that he could toss the cloak aside. Instead of a body, there was a large stone jutting out of the ground.

Then, the forest north exploded with more action. The friends tried to see what the commotion was about, but the smoke from spreading fires now obstructed most of the view. All they could positively make was that something very large tumbled and twisted through the burning woods about a hundred yards from them.

“The dragon,” gasped Kala. She was the only one who could see the beast through the madness.

Screams erupted then, and the others got a clear view of the beast as it spit fire in every direction, back and forth, from the ground to the treetops. It writhed between the trees that remained, kicking up great heaps of earth as it maneuvered, but constantly spitting. Then the dragon's own horrible scream erupted when the soldiers countered with another wave of their hit and run strategy.

“Why hasn't it attacked us?” Rolo said.

“We're on the other side of the fog wall,” Kala answered. “It must go around in a circle, and we've made it to the other side of the barrier.”

“That means the dragon can't see us,” said Shomnath. “We need to kill the dwarf now, while we have him on this side.”

Just then Baylor appeared, springing from a bush he’d been laying behind in wait. Although still astoundingly fast, his wounds slowed him down now, enough so that Shomnath was able to raise his left arm in time to block a swipe from his newly formed ice gauntlet. The frozen talons shattered, and Shomnath’s leather glove tore to ribbons, putting his golden gauntlet on full display.

“You had the missing gauntlet,” spat Baylor. He held his arms out, limping as he circled Shomnath. With a slight flick of his wrist, Baylor willed Frostbern to morph his gauntlet into a long ice sword.

“Well, it’s not as fancy as yours,” mocked Shomnath. As they circled one another, Shomnath searched deep into his memory, trying to remember where he'd seen this dwarf, but to no avail. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Kala moved to his flank.

Rolo attempted to advance, but he could hardly keep off his knees. Blood still oozed from the gashes that had split his chest, but the truth of the matter was that he wasn't fully healed from the fight with the griffons. Even with the help of Baymar's healing magic, it was only one day past. He looked up to his friends and grimaced helplessly. No matter what he willed for his body to do, he was just too weak to go any further.

“Stay down, we can take him,” said Kala, and then she glanced at Pall, making sure that Rolo's eyes were following, and lipped
hide.

“Yes, stay down. I’ll find you when I’m finished,” Baylor called to Rolo, before turning a crazed grin towards Shomnath and Kala. The dwarf was limping in pain, yet he eyed them both madly, muttering as he did.

Shomnath assumed the dwarf was silently cursing them, until Baylor bursted into a bright ball of white light. He wasn’t staring directly at the dwarf when the spell of blinding light ignited, but Kala was, and in result lost her vision. Panic stricken, she back peddled several steps. Baylor took the advantage and charged at the prince, whipping his frozen blade side to side.

With an injured leg Baylor was no longer a speedy blur, zipping to and fro and scoring hits at will, but he was still fast enough so that Shomnath could only defend with his sword and glove.

Then, a frenzied percussion ensued as gold clashed with ice. Ice chipped and littered the air throughout the rapid onslaught, but all the cracks in the dwarf’s blade filled instantaneously. Baylor led with everything he could think of. He tried striking low, backhands, and even stabbing thrusts, but the prince held his ground with skills only someone who had trained in swordplay all his life could possess. So furious was the fight that no one noticed the figure standing over Pall.

“Pall…” A few tears managed to find their way out of Scuttle's bloodshot eyes and down his blackened cheek as he dropped to his knees, and then tucked his arms under his cousin so that he could cradle him. Seeing the four wounds in his kin’s chest made the young dwarf nauseous. Scuttle assumed that he was dead, but then Pall coughed.

“Scuttle.” he moaned.

“Pall! I thought ye were dead,” cheered the young dwarf. Although excited, the words came out a raspy whimper.

“Two,” said Pall, hardly moving but now wild eyed. He looked at Scuttle and then darted his eyes downward.

“Two?” said Scuttle.

“Two," he repeated. "Me belt.”

Scuttle followed his cousin’s eyes down this time, and saw two corked vials tucked under Pall’s belt.

“Ye want these?” Scuttle untied the vials and held them in front of Pall's face, jiggling the liquid in them side to side, and Pall's eyes flared.

“Now,” Pall said. He had to force his words out, and each time he buckled in pain.

“Okay,” Scuttle said. He bit the corks from the bottles, and then poured them into Pall's mouth one bottle at a time, mindful not to spill.

Meanwhile, Shomnath was receiving the most rigorous, defensive swordplay test of his life. Luckily for him General Stark, who was accredited for being the best sword in Somerlund, had taught the prince swordsmanship. The general delivered this education by way of two, four-hour lessons a week, every week, since Shomnath was twelve. How he hated those lessons. The majority of them ended with him on his rear end, or worked into utter exhaustion. Now he watched the result of those lessons manifest before his eyes firsthand, as he consistently churned out blocks and parries without thought or hesitation.

Even though he was holding his ground well, Shomnath felt the pressure of Baylor’s relentless attack mounting, and he sensed a panic coming. He knew that if he faltered only slightly it could be the end of him.

“Kala! I could use your help,” Shomnath called through clenched teeth.

Just as the words left his lips, Shomnath raised his gauntlet and blocked three, downward slashing strikes from Baylor’s sword. The ice blade whipped into his glove with such speed that the three hits sounded as if it was a single blow, and it struck with enough force to send the prince reeling back several steps.

“I can hardly see you!” answered Kala, who was keeping distance from the fray until her vision cleared.

“Hardly? What do you mean by
hardly
?” he yelped.

Shomnath ducked under a backhand from Baylor’s blade, which whizzed by just above his head. Then Baylor pulled his ice blade around and up in a swimming motion, in order to slash straight down at Shomnath's skull, who was now crouching from ducking under the backhand. Shomnath lifted his sword horizontally just in time to block, resulting in another powerful impact. Even when he blocked the strikes cleanly, chips of ice flew out, sometimes directly into his face, adding to the difficulty in keeping up with the dwarf's next move.

“I mean hardly!”

Kala held her blades ready to throw, but even the strain of keeping her eyes open for a few moments brought her to tears. When she did manage to will them open, she may as well have been staring into a hurricane.

“Use my voice,” said Shomnath, and he stole a glance in her direction before deflecting another thrust from Baylor’s sword.

“He’s to your left,” he called.

“I might hit you,” said Kala.

“He
will
hit me!” Shomnath said, while simultaneously blocking two low, sweeping strikes.

“I can’t.”

“You must," he pleaded. "Just focus on my voice.”

Then, in order to guide her, Shomnath started to sing their favorite pub song. It was about a hunter, trying his best to convince an elf to let him hunt in the elf's forest for a magnificent boar, in which they would all feast on together. The joke being that elves are almost exclusively plant eaters. As he sang he rallied an attack, swinging his sword at the dwarf madly, trying his best to increase the racket.

Nervous, yet with ever-steady hands Kala shut her eyes, envisioned her surroundings, and tried to tune in to Shomnath’s voice. After several long breathes she let go of her fear, and then let three blades go as fast and as hard as she could.

Two shots were great attempts. The first of which was on a blazing path for the dwarf's throat, but Baylor managed to raise his ice gauntlet in time to block it. Even though he was able to deflect the projectile, shards of ice chipped and flew like shrapnel, shredding the skin along the left side of his forehead. The second scored a solid hit to his ribs. If his vest had been only slightly thinner leather, the dart would have pierced through his lung and proved fatal, but instead it stopped lodged in a rib bone.

The third of her blades was totally off mark and it landed deep in Shomnath’s left thigh, immediately bringing his attack on Baylor to a halt. He did not grab at the blade to pull it out, but backed several paces in fear of Baylor utilizing the new advantage. Shomnath truly thought the end was near, but Baylor pulled away and turned to rush Kala.

“Kala!” Shomnath screamed in warning, but to no avail. Baylor was already upon her. Before she could even think to run, Baylor’s ice sword was in and out of her. In what seemed a blink of an eye, he skewered her right through her abdomen.

Kala felt the wound, but with her vision only slightly recovered didn't see the delivery. She only saw the blurry collage of the sparkling, green hues that made up the forest ceiling once she fell to her back.

"No!" Shomnath screamed, and the world turned upside down for the prince, weak from the sight of yet another one of his companions going down. He then yanked the silver blade free from his thigh and stared at his aggressor apathetically. He had witnessed everyone that he truly cared for fall in one day. He felt disgusting, like a savage with nothing left to live for but to kill.