Spirit of the Sword: Pride and Fury (The First Sword Chronicles Book 1) (76 page)

“Very well!” Wyrrin cried. “I will take my freedom and venture out into the world of men, and win great fame in a land where there are neither castes nor chains.”

They laughed. Every last one of them, their harsh laughter echoing around the shrine as they mocked him without mercy.

“You think that it is freedom that I offer?” Orrin said. “You fool, all I give to you is death. Think you that you will ever be more than a curiosity to the humans, an animal to be caged so that the crowds may gawk at you for their own amusement?” He chuckled. “How does your freedom taste, Wyrrin?”

“Very well,” Wyrrin replied defiantly. “I have found a comrade-“

“And how has he used you thus far?” Orrin demanded.

“He-“

“Abominably!” Orrin shouted. “He has used you, has he not, as a dog.”

“Our quest-“

“You are nothing to him, nothing to anyone, not any more,” Orrin yelled. “Were you not more fortunate as a slave in Arko than you are ‘free’ in these callous human lands?”

Wyrrin growled softly. “I would rather die free than live in chains.”

“Bold words, but even you do not believe that. In your heart, you crave the sense of community and protection offered to even your low station by Arko and the fire-god.”

“No I don’t!” Wyrrin cried. “I do not regret a day since leaving Arko. I do not regret the cage, I do not regret the whip, I do not regret my wounds at Lover's Rock. I regret none of it, because each morning I have awoken free, because I have seen more of the world then I ever dreamed of, done more of value than ever before. I saved lives in Lover's Rock, and was honoured by those I fought to defend. A human promised to name her son Wyrrin in my honour. When I fought to defend Arko my reward was exile! I will fight until throughout the Empire there are statues to my glory, the first fire drake to be honoured among men. I may die tomorrow. I may even die today. But I would rather die a swift death from the sword or the spear than die a slow death over many years from labouring without reprieve to the whims of a lesser drake.”

“So be it,” Orrin said as he, and the entire council and the guards and even shrine around them, disappeared. Wyrrin stood in the ruins of Aureliana once more.

“Michael?” Wyrrin called, turning where he stood in the ruins of a temple to one of the usurper gods. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling, and many of the statues and columns had collapsed and become overgrown with weeds. “Michael, can you hear me?”

“Oh, it's you,” Amy said dismissively as she walked into the temple through one of the holes in the wall. “I suppose you're better than nothing.”

Wyrrin hissed. “What does that mean?” She was so proud, this naiad, so full of her own strength and the might of her armour. Naiads always thought much of themselves, but he had known some that were capable of kindness. Not this one thought, not this Amy. There was nothing in her but arrogance. She looked down on him, she who had never had to work for anything in her life, because he had been born a slave. Why else would she take so well to Fiannuala, the dryad princess, but be so distant with him when they, too, shared a bond as members of the elder races. “Have I offended you in some way?”

Amy looked at him for a moment. She sighed. "No. I'm just... I'm worried about Michael on his own. And..."

"What?" Wyrrin demanded.

"What was it like, in Lover's Rock?" Amy asked.

Wyrrin blinked. She was from there, he remembered that now. The Crimson Rose had killed her mother.

"Are you angry that I did not save your mother's life?" he asked.

"No, I'm not angry about that, I'm angry that you were there and I wasn't," Amy snapped. "That was my home, as much as Michael's; I should have been the one to fight for it, not you. What was Lover's Rock to you, eh? A place where faithless humans dwell?"

Wyrrin nodded. "A place where humans dwell." He would not call them faithless, not again. Humans, after all, had shown him more loyalty than his own people.

"Then why did you fight?" Amy asked. "Why not run away, why not flee for your life?"

Wyrrin cocked his head to one side. "You may not know this but Arko is under siege. Barbarians roam throughout the land, hunting us, attacking our city. Even with the help of naiads and orcs who honour the old agreement we can barely hold our own. But when I tried to help defend my people I was cast out and banished. Yes I had my own motives, but that did not make my desire to help any less real. At Lover's Rock I had the chance to help another people facing the same threat, I could not have turned away from it. It would have made me as faithless as the proverbial humans. More. Ser Amy...I am sorry about your mother."

"Don't be, I've made the Crimson Rose sorry enough already," Amy replied. "Now come on, let's find the others."

Amy strode through the streets, her salamander-scale cape flowing behind her. Wyrrin followed at a discreet distance. In fact everything about Wyrrin was discreet at the moment: since there might well be enemies about, Amy had decided that it would be for the best if Wyrrin kept out of the sight for now; that way any enemies trying to ambush Amy could be ambushed in turn by Wyrrin.

There was a loud bang to her right, behind the row of abandoned houses, or possibly the street beyond that it was hard to tell. She saw the entrails of a pillar fire erupting into the sky before a winged demon rose into the air, screeching loudly like a strangled bird.

It saw Amy a moment later, crimson eyes focussing on her, and let loose a high pitched scream from its curved beak.

Amy growled as she planted Magnus Alba in the ground and ran for the nearest house. A few swift strides carried her to the wall, where she dug her armoured fingers into some of the cracks and pulled with all her might. The stonework shuddered, then shunted with a grinding sound, then a great chunk of rock came away in her hands with a sound of groaning and moaning from the house itself.

The demon screamed again, circling above her like a vulture. The abomination looked to be about the size of a man, with arms and legs in addition to its wings, but it showed no desire to come down and fight her. Most likely it was marking her position for its summoner, who would call up more warlike demons to finish her off once they arrived.

Amy didn’t intend to let it stay in the air that long. With a mighty roar she turned in place like an athlete throwing a discus and hurled the stone she had torn from the walls of Aureliana upwards towards the demon above her. The demon turned, but not fast enough to avoid getting hit on the wing and it tumbled to the ground with a shriek of pain.

Amy seized up her sword as the demon hit the ground, rolling along the road. She bellowed in anger as the demon rose to its feet, springing at her with the fury of a hyrcanian beast. Its muscles were lean and corded, its chest was ripped, and when it opened its beak the monster revealed rows of teeth within.

It was fast, faster than she was, and it passed inside her guard before she could swing her sword, and closed its beak around her shoulder.

Thanks to her sturdy paudron, she didn’t feel a thing.

“Get off me!” Amy yelled, bringing her fist around in a sideswipe into the demon’s neck. It crunched satisfyingly beneath her blow, and the creature howled as she threw it backwards. It cried out again as she planted her foot upon its chest, and screamed as she drove her sword into its face. It kept on screaming – Magnus Alba did not banish demons, as ordinary blades did, but destroyed them – as it turned to ash before her eyes, the charred remnants of one of the Dark Lord’s creatures floating away on the soft breeze.

“No! Stygorax!” yelled a man with a soft, mellow voice as a young man dressed in black, carrying a summoning rod in each hand, dashed around the corner. “Do you have any idea how useful he was?”

“Well, I’m so sorry if I’ve put you out,” Amy said. “I tell you what: put your neck down here and I’ll see if I can’t reunite the pair of you.”

The demon summoner scowled. “Maybe I’ll send you to join him instead, I’m sure he’d like the chance to pay you back.”

“In that case I’ve hope you got more of your evil little friends handy, because frankly I don’t think you’d be more than pathetic if you tried it yourself,” Amy said. Fighting demons was one of the proper occupations of a knight, since before the Eldest fell, and she relished a battle with no moral dimension, a true battle of good versus evil.

The summoner laughed. “Oh, trust me, I’ve got lots more friends. Heleroth, Strymon, Tyranoth come forth! In the name of the Eldest One I summon thee! Mummax arise, from the depths of your banishment; hear my call!”

He raised his summoning rods, which began to glow all around with red light as the runes illuminated. Amy shut her eyes against the burst of fire as the sky cracked in two and a smell of acrid smoke assailed her nostrils. When she opened her eyes a thick layer of smog blanketed the ground, and between her and the demon summoner stood four ugly, angry looking demons.

Three of them were warriors, all with the same flayed look to their skin, their fangs sharp, their eyes golden, their faces red and raw. Horns emerged from the tops of their heads, flames licked at the fringes of their overlong hair. They were armoured in scraps of metal, bone and hide, the skin and bones of the enemies they had slain in the dark world, so the tales said, and their weapons were crude but vicious looking creations of black metal. One carried a greatsword, gripped tightly in both hands. Another bore a one handed sword and a round shield. The last one carried a sword in its right hand and an axe in its left.

Above the three warriors – Heleroth, Strymon and Tyranoth presumably – loomed Mummax, the guardian demon. Its skin was a pale grey, with horns like a ram curling behind its ears and a face like a monkey. It wore no armour, and carried no weapons, but its hands looked big enough to crush Amy whole if it caught hold of her.

She’d cut off its hands before she gave it the chance.

Turo be my sword and my shield in this most righteous battle.

The summoner laughed manically. “Kill her! Avenge Stygorax!”

With a keening cry, Wyrrin leapt off one of the nearby roofs and landed on the shoulders of Mummax, the guardian demon. His sickle claws slammed downwards, burying themselves in the demonic flesh as Mummax howled in pain and thrashed wildly, groping blindly for the gnat that was paining it. Wyrrin hung on by the claws, drawing both his black swords as he slashed downwards again and again, ichor spurting from the wounds he dealt to the demon.

The summoner gaped in astonishment, but swiftly recovered himself as he yelled at his trio of warrior demons. “Don’t just stand there, get the other one! We’ll deal with the lizard later. Oh, my poor Mummax, just hang on.”

He talks to them like pets. Did he really think that Stygorax was his friend? Have humans forgotten so much?
Amy wondered in the little space she had left to think as the three warrior demons charged towards her, their footsteps leaving a trail of ashes in their wake.

Amy planned to go for the one with the greatsword first, and charged to meet it with a battle cry of her own. But when it saw her coming the demon retreated even as its fellow with the sword and shield stepped in between them. Amy swung downwards, not greatly caring which demon wished to die first, but her blow crashed against the demon’s shield and did not even dent it. The demon with the sword and axe attacked from her flank, his blows hammering against her with such weight it was though destiny itself, and no demon, was wielding the blade. Amy might have turned to meet it had not the demon blocking her stroke with its shield began to strike at her with its sword, and the last demon closed in too to bring its greatsword to bear upon her.

If I’m going to be hit anyway I may as well achieve something while I’m being punished,
Amy thought, and ignored the shielded demon as she turned to face the dual-wielder. The two demons without shields retreated before her, both hastily dashing backwards away from the reach of her deadly blade, while the one demon who had a shield stepped up its attack, shoving her backwards with its shield while pressing her with its blade. And when Amy turned her attention to him once more, the other two demons returned to the attack.

It was the same wherever she turned. The demons she could harm retreated before her, letting the demon with the shield take all of her attacks while the other two pounded at her armour from the sides. Amy’s head rang, and she couldn’t focus from the incessant hammering as the demons beat upon her defences like the waves beating upon the cliff. Her armour was strong, the strongest, but she could feel it cracking already at the pressure, and the demons seemed to know exactly where to hit her.

Individually, each of them was too fast for her to have kept it off. Together, there was nothing she could do.

We’re going to show the whole world, you and me. By the time we’re finished they’ll raise statues to the pair of us in every city in the Empire.

Amy’s eyes widened.
That’s right. I can’t lose. I can’t die here. I have to keep up with Fia. I can’t let her outstrip me in glory! There may not be anything wise that I can do, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t something reckless.
She stopped even trying to block the blows of the demons, lowering her sword into one hand and grabbing hold of the demon’s shield with the other. The demon hacked down at her arm, cracking and splintering her vambrace, but Amy ignored the danger as she hauled on the shield and the demon with it, swinging them both around into the demon with the sword and axe, knocking it down as she hurled the shielded demon aside like a toy.