Rise of the Champion (The Sword of Kirakath Omnibus #1) (24 page)

His hunger outweighed his curiosity at that moment, so he walked up to the bar immediately, his eyes straying to the door off to the right of it. By the smell of roasted chicken coming from that doorway, he was willing to guess that the kitchen was through it.

Turning his eyes back to the bar, he took note of the elderly man behind it.

“I don't suppose the kitchen is still open, is it?” Caleb asked.

The elderly man nodded with a smile. “It'll be open for a while still. Would you like some dinner and a bed for the night?”

“That would be great,” Caleb answered as he reached for his coin purse. “How much will it be?”

“It'll just be ten coppers,” the man replied.

Nodding, Caleb set a single silver mark on the bar in front of him.

The old man's eyes wandered from the mark to Caleb for a moment. “How old are you?”

“I'm eighteen,” Caleb answered quietly. His birthday had passed since he left the Blue Sparrow Inn. The fact that he had not celebrated the day did not bother him at all. In fact, celebrating his birthday would have felt odd to him, as a matter of fact.

After all, the people he had celebrated his birthday with every year before that were all dead, with the sole exceptions of his mentor and his best friend. He suspected that they were still alive, but he had no idea where they were though.

“You don't look a day under twenty,” the elderly man said with a frown.

Caleb actually chuckled at that, dark emotions surfacing in his bright blue eyes. “I guess I look older than I am. You could say that I've had a rough life. I am Caleb of Kirakath after all.”

Though it may have seemed counterproductive to reveal his name so casually when assassins were pursuing him, he saw nothing wrong with it. The pursuers were searching for Caleb Sullivan, after all, not Caleb of Kirakath.

Realization dawned in the elderly man's eyes. “I've heard rumors of a young man that survived the Massacre of Kirakath. They say he hunted down the bandits that massacred his village right after it happened. Do you mean to say that you are him?”

“Yeah, I am,” Caleb said with a frown. He did not understand how anyone could know of him. He had not told anyone the stories of what he had done. The fact that the man before him knew that he hunted down Cain's men truly surprised him.

“You're the second person from Kirakath that I've ever met. The last one came around about a year ago, actually. He had dark brown hair, a rough beard, and dark green eyes. I can't remember what he said his name was though. Memory's the first thing that starts to go with old age, they say,” the elderly man remarked thoughtfully.

Caleb's eyes went wide at those words. Only one man from Kirakath met that description. “His name was Hector Green.”

The elderly man nodded his head. “Yeah, that was what he said. It slipped my mind until you said it. I take it you know him?”

Caleb nodded with a dry throat. “He was my mentor. A little over a year ago, he left Kirakath without telling us where he was headed. I haven't heard from him since then.” Relief fluttered through him as he realized that Hector had gone through that same village.

“I'm sure that your mentor is fine,” the man said with a reassuring smile. “He seemed like a pretty solid man to me. I wouldn't bet against him, even if he was going up against a bear with both hands tied behind his back.”

Caleb laughed as he nodded his head in agreement. He had to admit that Hector was a tough man, but a single thought made that less reassuring.
Father was pretty tough too.

“If you'll take a seat, I'll have my wife take a plate of roasted chicken, some bread, and a tankard of water to you when it's done. I'll show you to your room after that.”

“Thanks,” Caleb said as he made his way to a table in the far corner of the room. His attention was not on the patrons that still stared at him when they thought that he was not paying attention but on the information that he had obtained.

While knowing where Hector was at a year earlier was not actually too helpful, it told him what direction Hector had gone. Greenville was roughly fifty miles east of Kirakath, which put Hector's destination a little more certain in his mind.

He either headed to the Great Shield Mountains, or he headed for Felcar's Pass. Either way, I don't think he's in Arcadia anymore.
The revelation explained why Hector was nowhere to be found at that moment. If he had heard of the Massacre of Kirakath, he would have managed to track Caleb down rather easily.

Such thoughts dominated his mind until a plate of roasted chicken, a partial loaf of bread, and a tankard of water was brought before him. The rest of his night went by rather quickly.

* * * * *

Seven cloaked riders sat atop black horses outside of the entrance of Greenville. No more than four hours had passed since sunset, and they were all well rested with determination shining in their eyes. After a month of hunting, their prey was within reach.

“He's here. There can be no doubt about it,” the tracker of the group said quietly. No one needed to ask how he was sure of it. It was said that he was able to tell the difference between horse tracks by looking at the depth of the impressions, the size of the actual impressions, and the spacing between the impressions. However he did it, he was good.

“That's good to hear,” their leader said. He was anxious to get the assignment over with. Caleb of Kirakath was wanted dead rather badly, and he would feel a great deal better once the teen was gone.

“Should we call for reinforcements?”

Their leader looked at the new recruit that had been assigned to go with his group. He wanted to scoff and mock the boy for suggesting that they were not enough to take on a eighteen year old boy with absolutely no training in the way of the sword. However, he had heard the stories of the boy's assault on Cain Fell's camp and the story of how he took on three assassins in the Blue Sparrow Inn.

“We'll be fine,” he said, shaking his head. “I'll deal with him myself. He's no doubt in the village's inn right now. I want you six to be outside of the inn while I face him. If it turns out that he's too skilled for me, I'll call for your help.”

“Yes sir,” his subordinates said.

* * * * *

Caleb's eyes snapped open as a chill ran down his spine. He rolled off the bed, landing on his hands and knees with very little noise. Worry was clear in his eyes.

As he commonly did, Caleb had a dreamless sleep, but a sense of foreboding had overcome him and had woken him up. He knew that his gut instincts were generally right, so he quickly moved to the dresser in the corner of the room.

He pulled the drawer open and slipped his tunic over his bare torso. As he normally did, he slept with his trousers and socks on, so he was almost fully dressed already.

He did not even spare a glance to his belt before he removed it from the top of the dresser and fastened it around his waist, ensuring that he had the Sword of Kirakath and the knife his father gave him on him at once.

Once he had his belt and boots on, he slipped through the door of the room and turned right down the dark, bare hallway. He came out of the hallway at the part of the balcony that was right above the bar. He made sure to stay in the shadows though, wanting to keep his presence hidden.

As he peered from the shadows, he saw a cloaked man approaching the bar. The man came to a stop just a few feet away, which allowed Caleb to see the top of his hood and nothing more.

A shiver of fear burst through Caleb as he realized that the assassins had finally caught up to him.

Damn it all to the abyss.
The situation looked grim, and the cloaked man's words only confirmed his suspicions that they were after him.

“Is Caleb of Kirakath here?”

Shit! They know that name now too!

The assassin was answered by a man with a deep voice from behind the bar. “He might be. What's it to you?”

In response, the cloaked man stepped forward while he moved his body. Though he could not see what the man was doing, Caleb knew that he had gone for a knife.

By the splattering sound and the heavy thumping sound against the wooden floor of the inn, Caleb knew that he was right. The possibility that the man behind the bar was still alive never crossed his mind. The assassin knew what he wanted to know, so killing the man would have been logical.

Rage surged through Caleb at the realization that a man died because of him.

His eyes wandered to the hilt of his sword. It seemed that fire flowed through his veins every time he used it.

With that in mind, he touched the pommel of his sword.

For the first time in a long time, he welcomed the fire that flowed through his veins as he dashed forward and leapt over the handrail that surrounded the balcony. He smoothly fell to the ground, easily taking the fall without harm to himself.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw the cloaked man was beginning to turn around, but that was not what his eyes were on. They were on the head of the man that had fallen behind the bar. Only his neck and head were visible, but it was enough to tell Caleb what he needed to know.

The assassin had killed a man in his late twenties with a rough beard. His eyes were wide open, and his throat had been cut open.

“You're young,” the assassin commented.

“No, I'm Caleb of Kirakath,” he whispered as his hand moved to his sword and he drew it from its sheath. He spun around as drew the sword, decapitating the assassin in one fluid motion.

As the assassin's head fell to the ground, he looked at it with disgust and said, “I hope you find an eternity of torment in the abyss.”

Closing his eyes, Caleb began to listen intently. He could hear the heavy breathing of horses nearby. It took him a few minutes to sort through the sounds, but he was able to tell exactly how many horses were around the building. It was seven more than it had been when he arrived a few hours earlier.

Those seven aren't in the stables. They're in front of the inn. I guess there are some more assassins waiting for me outside. I better not keep them waiting.

He held his sword in his right hand and walked towards the door with determination in his eyes. The determination within his eyes was like nothing he had felt in a long time. He had not had such a reason to fight in so long. Comparing it to the way he felt a month before was like comparing a bonfire to a candle.

When he threw the door open, he relished in the surprise that was evident in their eyes.

“I'm Caleb of Kirakath, and I'm going to kill you.” Those were the last words he managed to get out before bloodlust consumed him.

Before his enemies could even react, Caleb had dashed forward and stabbed one of them through the heart with his sword.

Thinking to take advantage of the fact that his sword was stuck inside their dying comrade, they all attacked at once.

Caleb had other plans though.

He used the dying assassin that occupied his sword as a human shield to defend against the attacks to his right. At the same time, he drew the knife at his right hip with his left hand and began to parry the attacks at his left side.

In the blink of an eye, three more of the assassins were dead. He slit one's throat with his knife, embedded his knife in the skull of another, and had decapitated one of the assassins to his right with his sword.

None of them had even seen him remove his sword from the body of their comrade that he had used as a human shield.

“We can take him. It's still three on one,” one of the assassins said.

Caleb was not sure who said it, but he was positive that that was the next one that died.

With only two assassins left to fight him, Caleb took his sword in both hands. He remained unmoving as he waited for them to attack first.

However, one of the assassins actually turned around and took off running, causing the other one to look away from Caleb at his fleeing partner.

In that single moment, Caleb stepped forward and cut his head off. By the time his head hit the ground, Caleb was already running after the fleeing assassin.

As fast as the young assassin was, Caleb was much faster, especially when under the influence of the magic of the Sword of Kirakath.

The last assassin's death came quickly, and Caleb's bloodlust subsided with it.

Turning around, Caleb saw that people were coming out of their houses, staring at him. It was clear that his fight had woken a few people up. His attention soon turned to the front door of the inn, however.

The elderly man that he had met when he arrived there hours ago was standing in front of the door. By the look on his face, Caleb could tell that he had seen the dead villager inside the inn.

“What is going on?” he asked.

“Let's talk about this inside,” Caleb said quietly.

The elderly man nodded his head in understanding and led the way.

As soon as they were inside and the door was shut, Caleb said, “I never meant for this to happen. Assassins have been hunting me for about a month. I don't know why, but I've been on the run regardless.”