Cathexis: Necromancer's Dagger (44 page)

Astonishment shattered the Tchulian’s insane
anger and he paused in his attack. “What are you that changes from
a boy to a man in the blink of an eye? I have fought many men and
no one could fool me this completely as to their skill, yet where a
boy was now a warrior stands. Is this some bizarre enchantment that
I battle?”

“Come and find out, mutilator of innocent
boys!” Jatar
retorted
in a calm
and confident voice.

The Tchulian felt his wounded side with his
free hand and found that the damage wasn’t severe. “Hide the answer
if you will, but you will tell me when you are dying in the
dirt.”

“I’ll promise you this, you’ll know before
you die,” Jatar swore to the corporal.

The soldier was a seasoned knife fighter, he
realized that his anger and lack of respect for his opponent had
cost him a shallow wound to his side, so this time he moved forward
toward Jatar in a crouch with his knife held with the hilt grasped
in his fist and the blade projecting horizontally from the little
finger side of his hand. In this
position,
he was ready to punch and slash or stab his
opponent backhanded.

G’Taklar thought to Jatar,
“Why did you
...”

“
Not now, G’Taklar!”
Jatar said
intensely, cutting off his question; he needed his full attention
on his adversary. This man was a trained fighter and from his body
language, he knew how to handle a knife fight.

They both moved forward slowly until they
reached the sphere of attack, that area in which a quick move could
bring them into conflict. The two combatants carefully circled each
other, knives in constant motion to keep their opponent from
planning a move. Both watched the other planning and discarding
plans in rapid succession.

Jatar feinted a low attack and saw his
opponent move his free arm to block, and at the same time bring his
knife around in a blinding slash at Jatar’s eyes. Being only a
feint, Jatar was not far enough forward for the riposte to reach
him, but he learned something in the exchange, the corporal was
good.

It would require a very complex maneuver to
bring him out of position far enough to allow Jatar to get inside
his longer reach. Jatar felt a little frustrated, he was used to
his own body’s arm length, and G’Taklar had not yet reached his
full height, which handicapped Jatar somewhat and he didn’t need
any disadvantage against such a huge opponent.

Time was also a factor; it had been less
than sixty heartbeats since he had kicked the
buck-toothed
soldier in the treasury. At this
point,
the man was still lying on
his side moaning, but it would not be long before he was up and
ready for revenge. Jatar knew that he had to attack, he could not
afford the time it would take to wait for his opponent to make a
mistake, so he would have to force one.

Jatar faked a high slash, which his opponent
merely leaned back to avoid, and Jatar followed up with an aborted
kick like the one he had delivered to the corporal’s toothy
partner, but this was only a feint. That brought the soldier’s
blocking hand down and caused him to turn a little right to protect
his crotch. This moved the large soldier’s knife hand a little out
of line behind his body.

Jatar stepped right quickly which caused
even more of the corporal’s body to get in the way of his knife.
Now Jatar launched a slashing attack at the momentarily unprotected
side of his opponent.

It was a brilliant move, and if Jatar had
been facing an average fighter, it would have succeeded, but the
corporal anticipated the progression of the sequence in time to
counter with his free hand, bringing it across in a protecting
block to intercept Jatar’s attacking arm. The corporal’s block took
Jatar’s hand out of defensive line and left an opening toward his
upper right chest near his heart.

The corporal was too good not to come
through the opening at the unprotected vital target. He twisted his
blade around into a forward grip and rotated his hip and shoulders
to give him the speed and power to drive the blade into Jatar’s
chest to its hilt.

Unfortunately for the corporal, Jatar’s
chest was no longer where it was supposed to be. Jatar’s plan of
attack had anticipated his opponent being good enough to make the
block and counted on his committing for the open target of Jatar’s
chest. There had been a small risk that he could not move in time,
but by knowing his opponent would extend forward to complete the
thrust, Jatar was poised to step his left leg around and present
his body sideways at the last moment to let the corporal’s blade
pass by.

This left the corporal’s back to Jatar, who
didn’t waste a thought on using the opening. He plunged his dagger
into the unprotected right kidney of his opponent, then yanked it
out and jumped back, ready for a possible riposte.

It wasn’t necessary; the Tchulian merc
slumped to his
knees
and dropped
his dagger to clutch at his wounded side ineffectively. The blood
poured through his fingers like branches in the way of a
floodwater. “You have dispatched me,” the corporal gasped, “I only
wait for the Desecrator to claim my spirit. Who...What are...you?
By the Desecrator’s twisted soul, what ARE you?”

“
G’lan, another Vorg cultist, you find
them in the strangest places,”
Jatar thought to G’Taklar. Then
he stepped forward carefully and kicked the man’s blade out of
reach before leaning down to place the sharp edge of his blade at
the corporal’s throat.

He spoke quietly when he was close enough
for only the corporal to hear his words. “I am a man of my word and
I promised you the truth before you died. I am Lord Jatar Ardellen,
of Lindankar. My spirit resides in the body of my young cousin, Sir
G’Taklar Ardellen. This is made possible by my family’s cathexis
ring he wears.”

Even through the pain of his mortal wound, a
light lit in the soldier’s eyes at Jatar’s last disclosure. He
started to repeat the name of the metal aloud, “CA...”

And Jatar cut his throat with a quick yank
of the dagger.

“
Why did you do that?”
G’Taklar
thoughts said in horror as blood gushed momentarily from the
slashed carotid artery.

Jatar responded in thought,
“He was dead
already; I just sped up the progress and ended his suffering. If he
had blurted out the word, ‘cathexis’, I would have had to kill
these other two soldiers as well. If word got out that a cathexis
artifact was here, every person in this town would’ve gladly
murdered you to possess it.”

“
Is it worth that much?”
G’Taklar
asked in awe.

“
More than in your wildest fantasy,”
Jatar replied seriously, and then added,
“That’s why you swore
that oath to me about never mentioning the ring to anyone.”

“
I remember, and I never broke that
oath,”
G’Taklar said proudly.

“
I know,
otherwise,
you would be dead,”
Jatar
answered simply.

With the immediate danger past G’Taklar’s
fear of his body being used returned
. “May I please have my body
back now?”
he asked in a worried tone.

“Of course, one moment,” Jatar answered. He
stepped over to the bucktoothed soldier who was still rolled up in
a ball around his wounded genitals and struck him behind the ear
with the pommel of the dagger. Then with a mental sigh of regret,
he returned control of his cousin’s body to G’Taklar.

Jatar had two reasons for giving it up
immediately, he wanted G’Taklar’s trust and he had given his
word.

G’Taklar flowed back into control. He looked
at the fat soldier where he lay in the dirt caterwauling about his
sliced face, and G’Taklar decided it was time to make his exit. He
ran down the street while looking back over his shoulder to see if
anyone was pursuing.

Not watching where he was headed, he ran
into someone.

That was a particularly soft impact,
was G’Taklar’s first thought as he tried to turn and see who he had
struck. The impact knocked both of them to the ground. As they fell
G’Taklar managed to hold onto the girl and turned so that she
landed on top of his body. The landing knocked the wind out of him,
and she ended up a little high up his body which afforded an
interesting view down the top of her low cut dress.

G’Taklar’s nose was nearly between her
breasts and he finally found his voice, “I’m sorry miss; I wasn’t
watching where I was running!”

The simply dressed, small, but buxom girl
lay completely on top of the young man, effectively pinning him to
the ground. It took her a moment to remove the twin obstructions
that commanded his complete attention, but she finally unhooked the
upper portion of her dress from his chin and sat up, sitting on top
of him looking down.

She blew her brown unruly bangs out of her
eyes and then said, “Well, you were in a big hurry, but I don’t see
any of those bullies chasing you now,” she finished looking down
the street to where a small crowd was gathering around the sprawled
bodies. “I thought you were pretty stupid standing up to those
soldiers, I was sure they were going to rip you apart. Now I see
you survived. Perhaps you’re only a little stupid,” she said as she
took his face by the cheeks with one of her hands and turned his
face back and forth, looking for damage.

She inspected a couple of the bruises
starting to show on his face while continuing to talk. “Well, I’d
better take you back to the tavern and fix you up, you’re a little
worse for the wear from your gallant battle, come on,” she said
getting off of him. “Unless you want to stick around until more
soldiers arrive?”

So far G’Taklar had not managed to get in a
word, partly because she had not left any chance for it among her
quick flurries, partly because the wind had been knocked out of him
and partly because he was red from ear to ear in embarrassment at
having planted his nose in uncharted territory.

He finally managed to look at her and
noticed that she was young, perhaps his age and had a rather cute
face, with a slightly upturned nose and pouting lips. Her hair was
brown, wavy and hung all the way down her back. The dress she wore
was patched and well worn, but her nice figure rounded out the
dress in all the right places.

Short, curvy and cute as a button was
G’Taklar’s instant impression.

She took his hand and led him down the main
road toward the tavern where she worked. “My name is Rachael and I
work at the Butchered Lamb. Fats, he’s the innkeeper, lets me use a
tavern room for now, and if things go well from here he may let me
keep it permanently. In
return,
I’ve been waiting tables for him, but he’s been pushing me to
branch out lately, he says I’ll get to keep any tips I make. What’s
your name?” She asked suddenly.

“G’T…” he started to answer, but Jatar
interrupted.

“
Don’t tell her your real name!”
he
admonished,
“Remember, the soldiers from the keep will be
looking for you.”

“
G’T
?” she
said with a puzzled look.

“G’Tar, he repeated, as if stuttering.

“Guitar? Oh, a minstrel, do you play the
guitar?” she asked with real interest, most of the dimwitted
soldiers bored the young girl.

“Yes, but...” G’Taklar started, trying to
correct the girl, but Jatar cut him off again.

“
Let it go, Guitar is a good name to hide
behind, it brings a picture to mind instead of a face,”
Jatar
counseled the young man.

“
She’s going to start thinking I’m a
blathering idiot if you keep interrupting me like this,”
he
complained in thought.

“
Oh we wouldn’t want that,”
Jatar
replied facetiously.

G'Taklar finished his sentence to Rachael in
a different fashion than he had first intended, “...but, I don’t
have my guitar with me right now.”

“Oh that’s all right, you can play for me
some other time; I have something else in mind right now. Turn
here, we’ll go in
the back way
, I
don’t want Fats to see me taking a man up to my room,” she said
with a perky wink, “And I think it best if the soldiers don’t know
where to find you as well.”

“Good idea,” G’Taklar exclaimed.

“
Be careful with this little charmer,
cousin, she may be after more than you want to deliver.”

“
She’s only a young common girl, she
won’t be any problem. Besides, isn’t it a good idea to hide at this
tavern? We can find out where we are and she might help me get that
job you spoke about,”
G’Taklar said, rationalizing his sudden
interest in going with Rachael.

“
It’s funny how you have suddenly changed
your mind about working at the tavern, I’m sure it has nothing at
all to do with a cute girl holding your hand and dragging you up to
her room,”
Jatar said sarcastically. He was not fooled by
G’Taklar’s reasons for his change of heart.

I just hope he doesn’t get himself in too
deep with this
streetwise
muffin; I may have to jog his noble
conscience,
Jatar
noted
but
kept this thought to himself.

The tavern was a two-story building along
the main road out near the edge of town. It was located close to
the complex of buildings lying outside the town that G’Taklar had
seen from the hill earlier that morning.

A well-worn brick stairway led up the back
of the tavern to a doorway on the second floor. Rachael didn’t
pause a moment, she dragged G’Taklar up the stairs and through the
door. He found himself in a dim hallway with doors on either side.
Halfway down, another hall opened to the left and ended in a
stairway going down. From the noise below
G
’Taklar figured it must lead to the common room the
young girl had mentioned earlier.