Draconis' Bane (37 page)

Wide eyed Tristan
looked over his shield at a razor tipped arrow and then forward to
find its owner. His eyes scanned the buildings closest to the
palace gate as another arrow thumped into the protection of his
shield. Tristan lowered his head, looking over at William who was
likewise surveying the nearby buildings for sign of their assassin.
Horses baring riders in black galloped towards them and Tristan
prepared for a more direct attack.

From behind them, an
arrow sped through the air and lifted one of the riders out of his
saddle and sent her screaming into the moat. The rest of the riders
pulled back and dismounted their horses. They ran towards the
drawbridge, using their shields to protect themselves from Metao
archers who took up defensive positions. Tristan and William
prepared to meet them only to hear a familiar voice shouting at
them from the down the street. A small squad of soldiers recklessly
rode through the streets, forcing the assassins to leap out of the
way to avoid being trampled.

“Keep pointed at
those buildings pups!” Knight-Captain Robertson yelled.

Robertson leapt from
his galloping horse and ran straight for the drawbridge, narrowly
avoiding another volley of arrows. The Knight-Captain dove behind
the protection of their minimal shield wall as the rest of his
riders took up positions around the palace guards. Robertson had
Tristan and William by the arms and dragged them back towards the
gates of the palace. Another pair of arrows thudded into the now
larger wall of shields.

Tristan shook off the
Knight-Captain and took inventory of their situation. Lesa’s arm
and dress were covered in her blood. Otis knelt next to her with
his hands over the gaping wound in her arm. He mouthed wordlessly,
causing his hands to glow faintly. Eurydice watched in awe,
knelling next to the old man and clutching her staff.

William pulled the
long oil-stained leather tube from his back and pulled out his
longbow. He stuck his leg in and over the wood and used his arms
and leg to pull the bow down and set the string. He pulled off his
quiver of arrows and ran forward, remaining behind the protection
of the shields still held aloft by the soldiers and guards. Another
arrow thudded into the wall of shields as he began to scan the
nearby buildings for the archers.

Satisfied that
everyone was doing all they could to protect themselves; Tristan
joined William in scanning the buildings. The Prince noticed
movement in the streets as armed men began appearing along the five
boulevards that led up to the main palace gate. William continued
to scan the buildings, looking for the bowman as the attackers
formed up in front of them. Tristan drew his curved falchion from
its sheath and prepared himself for battle.

A tall powerfully
built woman walked out of one of the closer buildings and tossed a
bow and quiver of arrows down before she took her place in front of
her force. One of the guards sighed and lowered his shield,
readying himself for a head on attack. An arrow whistled through
the air before the Knight-Captain could shout for them to hold. The
guard looked down and the arrow protruding from his chest. His
fingers flexed uselessly around the shaft of the arrow before his
eyes rolled up into his head and he fell sideways off of the
drawbridge, into the moat.

A soldier stepped
into his place and whipped his shield up just as another arrow
thudded into it. Robertson audibly sighed, shouted for the men to
hold and unsheathed his own sword.

The Amazonian looking
woman stepped forward and pulled her hood down. She was a handsome
woman, though even from a distance Tristan could see the various
scars and burns to marked her body. They seemed to have been deep
enough to have been from close encounters with dragons and since
she was here and dragons were scarce, he assumed she was good at
her job.

She pulled the long
sword scabbard off her shoulder, unsheathed the sword and tossed
the scabbard aside. The warrior woman shrugged off her tower shield
and held it easily in her right hand. She walked forward, careful
to hold her shield in front of her, until she was at the edge of
the drawbridge.

“Step forward young
Prince.” She called over the mutters of the soldiers assembled in
front of Tristan.

He started forward,
only to find a restraining hand on his arm. Euri looked up at him,
her hands covered in blood and tears gathered in her eyes. He
nodded reassuringly at her; she gulped in reply, a single tear
falling from her eye. Knight-Captain Robertson turned and cast the
young Prince a warning glare.

“No Captain.” The
Prince merely replied, shaking his head.

The young Prince
stepped around the wall of shields as the soldiers closest to the
edge moved in together to allow him to pass. The woman smiled
widely, revealing startling white teeth contrasted by her deeply
tanned and scared face. He did his best to walk confidently
forward, though in truth he was terrified. He always was when he
was about to fight, though his nerve and refusal to submit tended
to cause his troubled mind to become clear and calm in battle; even
as he approached pending bloodshed.

Eyeing the
surrounding buildings uneasily he kept his shield out in front of
himself to the woman’s obvious amusement.

“Don’t worry young
man. I want the honor of the kill for myself.” She chuckled.

“That makes me feel
so much better.” He replied sarcastically.

Behind him on the
walls the Metao soldiers began gathering along the battlements. He
heard the telltale tension of bowstrings being drawn back and a
cold calculating thought entered his mind. If he was about to die,
he would take this woman and all of her men with him. Tristan
breathed in deeply, trying to clear his mind and calm himself as he
shook his arms and craned his head to either side cracking his neck
and loosening up the muscles.

The woman laughed as
she began bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet and flexing her
powerfully muscled arms. Tristan chuckled darkly in spite of his
situation. Of all the men, monsters and creatures he’d faced in his
nightmare and the last year of war, tragedy and blood, he was most
nervous in fighting this large woman.

He readied himself,
establishing his fighting stance and balancing his weight equally
between both legs. Tristan held his shield in front of himself with
his sword resting on his shoulder, ready to lash out when she came
at him with her long narrow sword. The pommel of her blade was damn
near the length of his blade and glinted in the sunlight as she
held her sword aloft effortlessly. Her men cheered their leader and
jeered the Prince as she prepared to strike.

“I am Master Dragon
Slayer, Amanda Eberts.” She announced.

“Ya, ya, you and all
your
Bane
cronies are the same.” Tristan shot back. “You’re
all so convinced you know what you’re doing and why.”

“I’ll see the end of
you and your kind, dragon scum.” She spat.

“Well then you’ll
either be out of work or dead.” Tristan shot back sarcastically. “A
noble goal.”

Confusion crossed her
face briefly, though it was quickly replaced by a dangerous scowl
which formed on her otherwise attractive face. She hissed as she
leapt forward bringing her sword crashing down from above. Tristan
smiled as he slid the shield onto his arm and let it continue until
it was practically on his back. He leaned forward to catch the
sword blow on his shield and pulled his dagger. As she collided
with his shield, he lashed out with the dagger in his off hand and
sliced along her exposed midriff. She pulled away gasping in pain.
Her hand shot down to the wound and came up red as her eyes
narrowed again.

“Temper, temper.”
Tristan teased while he re-sheathed his dagger and allowed his
shield to slide down his arm and into his hand once again.

Eberts shouted as she
rushed forward and began a viscous offensive pattern. She swiped
wildly over Tristans head, forcing him to duck only to find the
sword coming in low forcing him to leap back. While he was off
balance used her shield to bash him backwards and drove her sword
point towards his chest. Tristan sidestepped the blow and brought
his shield up as his sword came crashing down.

Her sword shattered
into three pieces as he caught it between his sword blade and his
shield. Eberts momentum carried her through and as she over
balanced. She spun in place, pulling a dagger from her boot.
Tristan stepped into her path and kicked the small blade out of her
hand. Eberts straightened up, pulling another dagger from a sheath
on her back. Tristan stepped forward and brought his elbow up,
connecting with her chin. Her head snapped back and blood spurted
out of her mouth. As she fell backwards, Tristan’s instincts took
over. He spun in place and ducked behind his shield. Two arrows
struck his shield as a score of others stuck the drawbridge around
him.

Three of the arrows
that missed his shield caught his cloak, pinning it to the thick
oak bridge. Tristan unfastened his cloak from his neck as the
defenders on the wall loosed score of arrows into the nearby
building. Two archers tumbled out of their windows before Tristan
turned his attention back to the dragon slayer.

He smiled as Eberts
looked down at what was left of her long sword and swore. She threw
it at Tristan who simply raised his shield as the pommel and
remaining piece of blade bounced harmlessly off of it.

The Dragon Slayer
tossed aside the shield and drew two short swords. She screamed a
primitive battle cry and leapt forward. Her fighting style changed
dramatically. Eberts had much more control over the short blades
and used them to good effect. Tristan slid his shield up his arm
again, allowing it to rest on his back as he drew the dagger
Eurydice had given him. Amanda lashed out with her right hand.
Tristan knew it to be her off hand so he turned sideways, so that
his back caught the blow on his shield. She had expected him to
repost her blow giving her momentum for the real strike.

When she came around
with the second strike it was weak. Even so, he felt the blow all
the way down to his elbow as he caught her sword on his blade. He
pushed her sword back, sheathing his dagger and shook his shield
off of his back and onto his left arm. She didn’t hesitate and was
instantly back on the attack.

She thrust with her
left sword, forcing Tristan to parry and then slashed with her
right sword, trying to open his stomach. Tristan danced backwards
and the blow went wide, carrying her off balance.

He thrust out again
giving her another shallow cut, this time along her ribs. She
gasped as she looked down at the flesh wound.

Glowering at him
dangerously, she came at him growling like a wounded wolf. She
swung her left arm up and the blade came crashing down as Tristan
flipped the shield up and used his back and shoulder to take the
blow. Her right came crashing down next. Tristan spun on the ball
of his left foot, completely avoiding the second strike.

The young Prince
reversed the grip on his sword and stepped back towards Amanda,
driving the tip of his sword deep into her stomach. Ebert’s eyes
went wide as Tristan looked over his right shoulder. He yanked his
blade free, spun and knelt back behind his shield as four arrows
stuck it. The bowmen on the walls answered by firing into four
windows taking the last of her bowmen down as they all tumbled
through open windows to the cobbled street below.

Tristan rose as
Eberts lurched forward, a crazed look on her face. She slashed
wildly with a dagger, missed and stumbled forward. Tristan backed
up, preparing for another blind slash. The Dragon Slayer raised the
dagger high over her head; her eyes open wide in naked rage.
Tristan didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward and brought his blade
up, still reversed in his grip and sliced open her torso all the
way up to her neck. The blow sent her flying upwards and back and
she landed with a sickening thud on the road in front of the
drawbridge.

There was a brief
pause as all of the assembled slayers looked wide eyed between the
body of their leader and Tristan. The first shout went up and then
the assembled men all drew swords and ran at the young Prince.
Tristan felt a strong callused hand grab a hold of the neck of his
armor and then he was in the air as he was unceremoniously tossed
over the soldiers behind him. He landed painfully on the drawbridge
behind them as they rushed forward. The impact of his landing
forced the air out of his lungs as he landed. He could hear bow
strings snapping, soldiers yelling and feet stomping around him as
the Metao soldiers rushed in to engage the slayers. He tried to
stand, but he landed hard and it felt as though someone had punched
him in the stomach with a battering ram.

Eventually Tristan,
shaky though he was, got to his feet and tried to push himself to
the front of the soldiers. Small arms wrapped themselves around his
stomach and a small voice screamed for him to stop. He looked under
his arm to see Euri holding tight to him, refusing to let go with
surprising strength.

“Stop please.” She
begged.

Tristan stopped
trying to move forward to join the battle. It was already a decided
thing at any rate. The slayers were throwing themselves at the
Metao soldiers, who carved them up as they carelessly leapt over
their fallen comrades. Tristan tried to shout for a captive, but he
was still in pain from the landing. William walked up beside him
and bellowed over the shouts and grunts of the fighting men for
captives.

Then Tristan passed
out.

~

Knight-Captain Lance
Robertson looked on with fierce pride as young Prince Tristan took
the fight to the more experienced slayer. He watched as the boy
moved with uncanny speed and ability, far more than he had just a
year ago when he’d led them into the hills surrounding Kenting and
Irudin.