Forest For The Trees (Book 3) (74 page)

From the beginning the Arronathian Armed Forces had
been meant as a tool with which to search out and subjugate the remaining
followers.  Too, when it was realized that shards were missing from the obsidian
statue’s remains, it had become the second unquestioning goal Arronath’s people
would work toward.  Obliterating the mad god’s taint.

The drive to carry out the original intentions had
faded the further from the horror and pain each successive generation was. 
Arronath’s pride, the Armed Forces, became rife with career men and power
players.  Adrian and Jide’s patient stalking of the corruption within the ranks
had made great strides in returning the army to the disciplined entity it was
intended to be.

And before Adrian’s eyes was a piece of the past.  The
very essence of the evil that Arronath had crafted the Armed Forces to combat.

Stay away?  Flee back to Arronath with the job
unfinished?

Laughable.

Anger had restored Adrian’s fierce determination and
drive that the witching hours had stolen from him.  He shook off the mantel of
confusion that had plagued him since awakening on a battlefield to find his men
being overrun.  There were no doubts any longer, no questions about what should
be done next.

Adrian waited for the chance he knew would come soon.

He watched the Galemaran Rail take advantage of his
own opportunity.  Xenos had unleashed an attack on the two men standing beside
the pool.  Rail leapt with surprising strength, covering three times the
distance an ordinary man could.

With a cry he shot through a wall of rising smoke.  He
appeared feet from Xenos.  A mighty swing with the massive sword he carried
should have caught Xenos in the back.

Except the councilor spun to catch the blade in his
left hand, the black dagger still clutched in his right.  The blow’s force
shoved him back several feet across the loose debris.  There he stopped.  He
had found purchase on the solid boards beneath the rubble.

Xenos snarled a curse into Rail’s face.  They
struggled, strength versus strength.  Adrian could count the perspiration drops
rolling down the Galemaran’s face.

Between them, the blade shuddered.  How much physical
force was being exerted on the blade?  Adrian had no way to estimate.

When the sword was slowly forced back toward Rail, the
Galemaran abruptly changed tact.  Both Arronaths, expert fighters in their own
rights, marveled to see it.  Rail released one hand.  He dropped it to the deck
for stability.  His entire weight shifted so that he was suddenly pulling Xenos
forward using the councilor’s momentum.

Rail’s feet left the ground.  It looked as though he
meant to stand on his one hand, yet he pushed off from the ground with his arm
while his feet rose.  His boots twisted around Xenos’ arms and landed a fierce
kick to the underside of the councilor’s chin with the considerable strength
possessed by the Galemaran.

Xenos’ head rocked back from the uppercut blow.  He
nearly fell when his feet tripped over the broken boards.

Adrian tensed.  He could feel the right moment
approaching.  It was as if he could read the next move in the battle.  See a
few moments into the future.

Neither man had released his grip on the sword.  Rail
pushed forward, hoping to capitalize on his enemy being off balance.  He was
not fool enough to try wrenching the blade free so he could use it.  Instead he
used it as a shield, keeping it between him and the lethal talons of Xenos’
reconstituted hand.

Rail swung in a pugilist’s broad arc.  The punch
landed.  Xenos yelled in pain from the blow to his face.  Again Rail swung,
giving Xenos no chance to recover, allowing him no time.

Except Xenos had recovered through strength of will
alone.  The pain must have focused his mind.  He yanked the sword sideways. 
Rail’s punch landed on the broad, hard steel.

There was a crack.  The Galemaran barked in pain.  He
must have broken a knuckle or two.  Xenos was still on unsure footing.  Instead
of wasting precious moments trying to regain it, he forced himself further off
balance in order to come around the sword.

Here it comes.  This will be the telling moment!

Xenos swung in an arcing blow to match the weathered
mercenary’s.  It struck Rail firmly in the temple.  He was knocked sideways
from a force that must equal a falling tree.  The councilor stumbled as the
punch pushed him further off balance.  His arm flailed momentarily while he
strove for equilibrium.

Adrian dashed through the smoke less than ten feet
from Xenos.  Jide was caught off guard by the move and remained motionless.

It is there!  Right there before my eyes!

He knew Xenos commanded incredible strength, but he
was unprepared.  Still, a simple tug alone would be insufficient…

Adrian’s hands closed around the blade of the obsidian
knife.  He ignored the pain, ignored any damage he received from it.  This was
far more important than his comfort.

Xenos’ eyes widened when he found Adrian at his side. 
Before the councilor could react, Adrian pulled with all his might.  The sharp
stone sliced into his palm.  To the bone, by the feel.  He refused to allow the
pain to slacken his grip.

The obsidian shard slipped from Xenos’ fingers.  He
had done it.  The councilor’s fingers snapped shut on open air.

“I expected my previous two visitors,” Xenos commented
while Adrian retreated four steps.  He straightened his tattered robes.  “I
confess that you were a surprise to encounter earlier in the deep woods, good
general.  What is the great Arronathian Armed Forces coming to if they are
unable to apprehend a single man, I ask you?  It seems apparent you have done a
poor job in training your troops.”

“Poor job or not, deceiver, I have succeeded where it
is most telling.  I have divested you of this!”

Xenos cocked an arrogant eyebrow.  “That?  And what is
it you believe you have accomplished?”

“It is clear what evil corrupts you.  And while you
are beyond redemption, at least the source of your power is taken from you!” 
He drew his sword with two fingers and passed it to his unbloodied hand.  “As
the general of the Armed Forces, I will fulfill my duty and spill your blood
with this steel!”

He cut for Xenos’ neck.  The slice was clean.  It
would kill the evil snake who had whispered poison into the king’s ear.  With
this—

Xenos caught the sword easily with his fingers.  His
other hand whipped out to close on Adrian’s neck.  “Poor, poor Adrian Ceylon,”
he whispered with pleased malice.  “You should have remembered that the loyal
priests of Turliss all carried sacrificial knifes crafted from obsidian.  Did
you think this was a precious fragment of the God Statue?”

The hand squeezed until Adrian gurgled.  No matter how
he fought he could not break free.

“You will contribute to the resurrection of He whom
you so misguidedly despise.  Know that as you die.  You may watch this day’s
conclusion from the far side of the veil, once you see with unclouded eyes and
understand your folly.”

Adrian flailed wildly.  His larynx was being crushed. 
He tried to use the stone knife in his hand to cut at the demon’s arm.  It
seemed made of steel.  Nothing he did injured it.  Nothing he did…nothing…

His vision was blurring.  Xenos seemed to be splitting
in two.  One drifted upwards to the left.  And the singed robes he wore were
beginning to run.  Like paint.  Like…something…

Faintly he saw a shapeless form that must be Jide
running to his aid.  Faithful Jide who had put up with so much to help Adrian
achieve his ambitions.  He should have sent Jide back without him to
do…whatever it was they should have done.  Back to…someplace.

Someplace…

*        *        *        *        *

A shrieking battle cry from the one-eyed Arronath tore
Marik’s gaze from Dietrik’s body.  Blood pumped in alarming quantity from the
stump of Dietrik’s arm.  The stump that had once ended in a hand.

Xenos had the older Arronath in his grasp.  It only
took a heartbeat but Marik registered how the body was vibrating.  The eyes
melted from their sockets to flow liquidly over the angular cheeks.  Before
they could drip off the chin, the entire body flashed a brilliant, shining
white for a single instant.

The Arronath Xenos held exploded.  Thousands of small
chunks burst away as if a watermelon had been dropped from a cliff top.  Sounds
of wet meat sloppily hitting the platform were lost under the grotesque
shlep
that signaled the interior organs landing in a pile.  Intestines came to a
slow rest after they slipped over each other in wormy confusion.  They slowly
deflated as liquids other than blood spilled from their severed ends, making
the entire mass appear to sigh in defeat.

Marik became aware of a warm sensation on his brow. 
He wiped his hand across and came back with several bloody meat flaps covered
on one side with hair.  The man’s scalp.

Through the smoke charged the one-eyed Arronath. 
Xenos shifted to meet the attack with a sneer.  His taloned hand was ready to
meet such a pitiful assault.

But Rail flew back into the fight first.  He held his
body low, running deer-quick across the deck.  His sword swung faster than the
eye could follow.

Xenos blocked the blade with a snarl and stopped it
before it smashed his knee.  He threw it sideways before whirling on the
Arronath.  The one-eyed man had closed the distance.

He attacked with a blow Marik could read despite the
distance.  A slash at the neck.  Xenos blocked it easily.  And then the
one-eyed man unleashed his true attack.  In his hand he held a dagger that he
had kept carefully hidden.

The lash caught Xenos by surprise.  He blocked it with
his forearm.  Marik’s hopes rose.

Yet it did not seem to scratch him at all.  Xenos hit
the man in the chest with a splay-fingered blow that knocked him away.

Rail shouted vehemently at the one-eyed Arronath. 
In
Arronathian.  Before either could begin a new assault, Xenos roared in fury.

“Look out!”  Marik shouted it instinctively.  With the
roar of the flaming rear-deck he doubted they could hear him clearly.

Xenos flung a barrage of saw blade orbs in random
directions.  The Arronath tensed, preparing to dodge, though none were on a
direct course for him.  It was the one speeding straight at Rail that stopped
Marik’s heart.

Not another one!  Not someone else I love!

Rail swung his blade upward from the ground.  The
blade’s wedged edge glowed with power.  When the orb struck, it shattered into
twisting energy shreds.  Marik blinked stupidly.

He had seen that before.  Was that also a
kkan’edom
ability?  What had his father done?

Xenos howled in rage.  The one-eyed Arronath leapt
forward to take advantage of the perceived opportunity.

This time Rail’s shout was so forceful it came out in
Galemaran.  “No, you damned fool!”  He catapulted toward the Arronath.

Marik saw it.  An instant before Xenos moved, his
sneer reappeared.

It’s a feint!  He was trying to draw them in by
pretending to be furious.  Gods, I have to help them!  A weapon!  There has to
be a weapon around here!  Where?  Where?

The hilt of the exploded Arronath’s sword emerged from
beneath the offal pile.  Despite the gore streaking it, it should still be
serviceable.  He could use it.

It happened too fast.  Marik never had time to move. 
Rail shouldered the Arronath hard enough that the one-eyed man was hurled
sideways.  Which put Rail directly in the path of Xenos’ striking hand.  A
streaking falcon diving at its prey.

The world stopped when Marik saw the razor-sharp nails
burst through Rail’s back.  Fingers emerging.  Closing.  So slowly, and yet,
not moving at all.  Fingers bending as if to pat his back.  A mother patting
her baby after feeding…

How could it be possible for a man’s fingers to emerge
from another’s back?  Surely it couldn’t be.  The gods could never be so cruel
as that.  If they were, then mankind would have abandoned them ages ago. 
Right?

Xenos closed his fingers around the wound and tore his
hand back.  The only sound Marik heard was the impossible cracking of ribs
being rent.  A bloody maw gaped in Rail’s chest where Xenos ripped out his
father’s lung.

He could see it held in the man’s hand.  Rail stood
motionless.  Before he could fall, Xenos threw the lung into Rail’s face.

Marik screamed in a fury he could never remember
feeling before.  His mind emptied completely of thought.  He charged Xenos with
nothing but the intention of pulling the man to pieces with his bare hands.

The one-eyed Arronath wobbled into his path.  Marik
did not care.  That whore-son was the one who had cost his father his
life
. 
He would charge straight over the man and tear Xenos apart.

Xenos looked at him in amusement.  How dare he?  Marik
raised his fists so they would be ready to strike the first blow.