Lines of Fire (The Guild House - Defenders Hall) (6 page)

The pointed toe of her father’s boot touched her back. Would he kick her if Robec fell?

Kalia pressed her hands against the top of the low wall. Alric stood tall and faced his opponent. From the gathered watchers she heard wagers being placed. To her surprise, though he faced two men, Alric was favored to win. How was that possible?

The Left Hand and the Justicar examined the blades of the men. The Justicar wiped Petan’s sword and knife with a wet cloth and dried them. What had he removed? Had Petan poisoned his weapons?

“Begin,” the Left Hand called.

Petan and her brother charged toward Alric. For the match, the blades weren’t the practice ones with the cutting surfaces colored with chalk to mark the injuries. The swords glinted in the light from the skylight overhead.

“To the death,” Petan cried.

“To defeat,” Alric responded.

Kalia’s hands tightened on the railing. Was this a death match? Her father’s laughter spoke of his approval of that outcome.

“Defeat,” the Swordmaster shouted. He laughed. “First blood goes to Petan. Robec, step aside and allow a superior man to end the duel.”

With a flurry or strokes Alric drove his opponents toward the edge of the circle. Kalia half-rose. She wanted to cheer when she saw the sluggish lines on Petan’s skin. Surely Alric used them to gauge his opponents’ actions.

The movement of the swords mesmerized her. She closed her eyes for a moment.

“No.” Her father’s cry drew her attention back to the circle in time to see Petan slash Robec’s thigh. Blood spurted from the wound.

“Time,” the Justicar called.

Her father’s scream of denial hurt Kalia’s ears. She jumped to her feet and scurried toward the entrance to the salle floor. Would she be in time to stop her brother’s loss of blood?

Alric dropped his sword and knife and sprinted toward Robec. Kalia’s eyes widened when he clamped a hand on her brother’s thigh. The bleeding stopped. For a moment his lines flickered before steadying.

A scream of warning rose from her throat. She shrieked but didn’t think Alric heard her over the noisy chaos. The Healer and several others made their way from the stands. Did anyone see Petan running toward the man kneeling over Robec and halting the fountain of blood?

“No,” she bellowed.

Too late.

Alric raised his head and twisted his body away from the descending blade. He failed. The point missed his back but the razor edge sliced a line across his back and arm.

“Foul.” The cry rose from the stands.

The Justicar turned. Several members of Alric’s patrol grabbed Petan and bound his arms behind his back. Cries from the stands condemned Petan. The sound roared like the whirling winds of summer.

The Swordmaster raised his hands. “Silence. I will judge the matter. Who can say if Petan or Alric injured my only son?”

Kalia’s hands clenched. Would he find a way to place the blame on Alric?

The Left Hand strode to the Swordmaster. “I will testify. Petan cut Robec when there was no reason to turn his sword in that direction.”

“Truth,” the Justicar said. “The Left Hand says exactly what I witnessed.”

“Perhaps your gazes shifted for a moment and you missed what I saw,” the Swordmaster said.

“Petan, did you cut Robec?” the Justicar asked.

“Yes.”

“Truth. Was it deliberate?”

Petan pressed his lips in a firm line.

Kalia clenched her hands. His silence condemns him. What would happen now?

Chanting rose from the crowd. “Cheat. Petan is a cheat. Banish him. Banish Petan now.” The shouts roared like a fire at the peak.

The cries thundered in Kalia’s ears. She found her way through the number of men and women gathered around the fallen. What would her father do? Would he defy the rest of the Defenders?

His words startled her. “Petan, you have forfeited your position as a Defender. Be gone. You have two hours before you will be hunted.”

Chapter
4

Though Alric tried to avoid the descending blade, he failed. His roll prevented a death blow. Excruciating pain followed the slice of the sword along his back and left arm. Would the wound cripple him and force him to leave the Defenders? Anger rose with the pain. How dare Petan attack from behind?

Alric collapsed atop Robec and felt the warm stickiness of fresh blood. Sliding his hand along his companion’s leg he realized the flow was his own. He rolled to the sand so the Healers could work on the Swordmaster’s son.

Angry shouts chanted words he strained to hear. “Banish him.” Over and over the words filled his head. Why did they want to send him away? He wasn’t the coward who had struck from behind. He had sped to Robec’s side to save him from crossing the abyss against his choice. Robec’s friend had been the one to strike the blow.

Alric heard a man’s voice. “Damn, the bleeding won’t stop.”

“Robec?”

“No. Whatever you did stopped the flow from his wound. It’s your injury that’s the problem.”

“Let me,” a soft voice said.

Alric felt fingers move slowly along his back. The warmth of the touch told him who was there. He turned his head. “I’m sorry I failed to free you.”

“But you did. Petan dishonored his sword and knife. He’s gone,” Kalia whispered.

Her touch vanished but he savored her words. He hadn’t been sent away in disgrace. He remained a Defender.

Chills shook his body. Shock, he thought. It had happened to him once before after an injury. “Healer, how bad is my injury?”

“Bad enough to need stitching. Imagine you’ll be a guest in the Infirmary for a week or so.”

Alric shook his head. “Don’t have time for that.”

The Healer chuckled. “Let me wrap your arm and back. Good thing you moved or the blade would have gone into your heart.” He daubed something on the skin. “This will numb the area.”

The pain receded. Alric drew a breath. “Thanks.”

“How did that woman stop the bleeding?”

“Defender’s secret.”

“Then I won’t pry but sure would like to learn how.” The Healer sighed. “Would help when we need to cut people to heal them.”

Sando knelt beside Alric. “You all right?”

“Been better.”

“Put yourself in a pickle.”

“How so?”

Sando chuckled. “Saved the Swordmaster’s son. Revealed an interesting talent to everyone. Got rid of your leader’s favorite. Coward came after you. All four patrols demanded Petan’s banishment.”

“Did the Swordmaster agree?” Alric moved his head and felt no pain. Whatever the Healer had rubbed on his skin had worked.

“What could he do?” Sando lowered his voice. “He tried to blame you but the Justicar and the Left Hand exposed the lie. The four patrols have demanded you and Kalia be bonded.”

“Only if she chooses.”

“Young woman’s skittish. You’ll have time to consider what to do. You and Robec are off to Healers Hall. Litters are on the way.”

“I’m not that badly off,” Alric said.

Sando laughed. “Prove it.”

Alric pressed his hands on the gritty sand. A jolt of pain nearly made him surrender to darkness. He couldn’t rise to his knees.

The Healer tsked. “Do all Defenders believe they’re indestructible?”

“This one always does.” Sando brushed Alric’s hair. “First time he’s been hurt bad enough to stop him from the duel. Take your time healing.”

“Storm Cloud.”

“I’ll see to your steed.”

“Thanks.” Alric forced himself to remain in the present.

Four men arrived with litters. During the transfer from the ground Alric lost his hold on consciousness.

Alien aromas roused him. Herbs and the sharp sting of alk. He tried to turn and yelped. Memories flashed with lightning speed and he realized he was in the Infirmary. “Where?”

“Treating room,” a deep voice said. “Drink this and lie still while I apply more numbing salve.”

Alric sipped from the bulb and sputtered. “Vile.”

“Finish the potion. You need tending and this won’t be painless.”

Alric felt his back being rubbed. Soon the numbing effect took place. The man with the deep voice barked orders to people Alric couldn’t see.

“You were lucky there’s no gross muscle damage. Wound isn’t as deep as the helpers feared. Take a deep breath. Have to clean the area thoroughly.”

Alric felt coldness and smelled the strong aroma of alk. The sting morphed into agony. He lost the battle to remain awake.

Someone’s groan woke him. He lay on a soft surface. He heard the groan a second time and realized the noise rumbled from his chest. He tried to roll to his side and bellowed. “Damn.”

“Awake now, are you.” A young man wearing Healer blue approached the bed. “I’ll help you.”

“Dry.”

“Drinking when sitting is better.” The trainee helped Alric to his uninjured side and slid his legs over the edge of the bed.

For a moment, Alric’s vision blurred. The young man became two and then four. Alric’s stomach lurched and he gulped deep breaths to keep from heaving. The young man changed into two. They swung him onto the bed. Soft pillows cushioned his back.

One of the trainees held a tumbler. “Drink.”

Alric gulped a mouthful and nearly spat the liquid. “What kind of poison are you giving me?”

“Salopa. Helps control pain and fever. Finish it and I’ll bring you broth and citren.”

“Robec?” Alric asked.

“Here.”

The voice came from the next bed. Alric turned his head and studied his companion. Robec’s pallor troubled Alric until he saw the lines of fire on the Swordmaster’s son’s skin. They held a healthy hue.

“How do you feel?” Alric asked.

“Like I’ve been slammed by a battering ram.” Robec cleared his throat. “Kalia came to see us last evening. She said you used the lines to stop my spurting blood.”

“I did. Useful skill for a Defender. That’s the reason my duels aren’t fatal for my opponents. You could learn to do the trick. Don’t you see the lines of fire?”

Robec glanced around the room. “Seeing them is a trick I don’t admit. The Swordmaster would cast me aside. Seeing the lines is a sign of evil.”

“How can you say that?”

Robec lowered his head. “My father taught me to fear such an event. Kalia says he’s wrong but she’s just a foolish woman. He is the Swordmaster.”

“I agree with your sister.” Alric winced as he shifted position. “I’ve read about the old days. One reason our people fled their former land and traveled through the mists to come here was to keep the sorcerers from forcing them to use their talents for evil. Seeing the lines was one of their talents.”

“I’ll think about what you’ve said.” Robec cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I’ve been your enemy for all these years.”

What brought that on? Was this some kind of trick? “I survived.”

“What will you do when you leave the Infirmary?”

“Regain my skill with sword and knife. Seek a bondmate. Maybe go on detached duty.”

“Why seek a bondmate? Your patrol leader and the other three have demanded you and Kalia bond.”

“And your father?”

Robec laughed. “He agreed. He had to or face challenge after challenge.”

Alric frowned. “Why who was ready to issue a challenge against the Swordmaster?” “Who would oppose him?”

“The patrol leaders. Maybe the Left Hand. Father seldom asks for his help these days.” Robec yawned. “Why did Petan wound me? He’s my friend.”

Alric pondered his answer. He had suspicions about the state of Petan’s friendship with Robec. Though the other man was his age, Robec seemed younger. Never belonging to a patrol had stunted his growth as a Defender. Alric knew voicing his suspicions would ruin the tentative easing of hostility. Petan had taken a chance. With Robec and Alric dead Petan would easily become the Swordmaster’s heir, especially if he bonded with Kalia.

“Could have been the heat of the moment,” Alric said. “Some men lose all sense of anything except the duel.”

Robec nodded. “Dueling changes Petan. He says killing his opponents makes him feel powerful. All his duels end in death except this last one with you. He says death feeds a man’s spirit.”

Alric heard slurred edges to Robec’s words. A large dose of salopa would do that. What more could he learn?

“How does Kalia feel about bonding with me?”

“She fears bonding with anyone but I’d say she likes you better than Petan. She has never liked him.” Robec released a sigh. “She talks about running away. Don’t think she will though. She’s never been far from the Hall.”

“Running would be a rash move.” Alric moved his injured arm and groaned.

“She often acts on impulse. She wanted to leave the Defenders and train with the Healers.”

“Not if she sees the lines. Why does she fear bonding?”