The Judge (17 page)

Chapter 37

The inside of the palace opened into a large hall. Bodies of the men stationed to protect the palace should anyone make it inside were strewn like pieces of art along the floor. Dozens of warrior monks lay still. Orange robes once clean and bright were crimson with blood.

Connor ran faster. Ahead he could hear men talking. In the large banquet hall, Connor skidded to a stop. Vercin stood in the middle of the room, a sword dripping with gore in his right hand. Caderyn and Zheng stood blocking his path.

“Oh this is perfect,” Vercin said as he grinned at Connor. “Three birds with one stone.”

Connor looked past Vercin at his father and the King of The Island. His father still wore no shirt with his ribs and torso heavily wrapped. Two knives glinted from his hands.

Zheng stood next to him, a long spear held in his left hand. His orange robes looked like the robes of the men Connor had passed in the hall, bloodied and red.

Both men looked at Vercin with determination in their eyes. Connor focused back on Vercin, who was talking like he had been invited over for lunch instead of mounting an attack on the palace.

“I’m not sure what you three hope to accomplish here, certainly not victory. Caderyn, you can barely stand. Zheng, not on your best day could you hope to defeat a Judge, and Connor…” Vercin turned and smiled. “You are still learning to control the power that sets us Judges apart from the rest of the Elites. You have no hope.”

“Men like us will always have hope against people like you,” Caderyn said.

“Oh, here we go, the courageous words, the misplaced bravery. You can say whatever you want but the fact that you believe and support a race of superior beings who only come out to help others every few decades says it all. At least I am making the moves to bring constant order to the human race. I don’t appear when I deem fit, give them hope, and the fade back into the shadows of obscurity.”

“By ‘order’ you mean rule,” Zheng said in his quiet way.

“One and the same, Zheng. There is nothing you can do to stop it. I couldn’t even stop it. Like I told Connor, as we speak the best and brightest of Karnag are climbing their way up the political and corporate ladders of the world.”

“We will stop you,” Connor said.

Vercin rolled his different colored eyes. “Yes, yes, I’m sure you think you will. So there is nothing I can do or say to change your mind?”

“Nothing,” Connor said.

Vercin shrugged and the long cloak he wore fell from his shoulders. “Remember as you lay dying next to your father and Zheng that this was your choice.”

Four pairs of eyes changed colors as kings and Judges clashed.

Connor knew that this was the moment that would define history. This was the time to hold nothing back and move forward. His heartbeat quickened as his eyes changed red. He gripped his axe in his right hand and knife in his left like they were the very things keeping him grounded to his humanity.

As the rage washed over him he forced himself to think of those who needed him to succeed. He thought of his friends, his family, but most of all he thought of Laren.

He could see her in his mind, hear her voice laughing for him. He imagined her rolling her eyes at his jokes and giving him that smile that told him he could be the man he was meant to be.

Connor was ready.

Vercin stood with his knees bent and both hands on the long sword that was held above his head. The thin iron crown he wore matched his stance, strong and rigid.

Caderyn moved first. Even with his wounds the warrior in him pushed ahead. Zheng was right by his side with his own spear raised high overhead.

War cries burst from both men’s chests and Connor felt a roar of his own break from his lips as he moved forward.

All three men collided with Vercin at the some moment.

Connor had never witnessed someone so fast. It wasn’t only Vercin’s speed that made him nearly invulnerable to strikes, it was the skill set he now possessed after centuries of war.

Blades flew through the air in all directions at the once Judge now turned tyrant. Vercin moved to avoid a blow faster than they could aim their blows. Those strikes that he couldn’t avoid he deftly parried to the side.

Within a few seconds Connor knew why Vercin was feared the way he was. The Elite was a god when it came to war. Connor struck out with his axe in a wide arc that aimed for Vercin’s back. As if he had eyes in the back of his head Vercin lunged forward, avoiding his blow and at the same time connecting with a wicked slice across Zheng’s chest.

Zheng staggered backward even as Caderyn lunged forward. Vercin blocked both of Caderyn’s daggers with his sword. Connor saw his opening and rushed forward.

With his free hand, Vercin struck Caderyn across the jaw with an audible crack. Caderyn flew across the room and slammed into the far wall.

Connor was close enough to strike. He feinted with his axe again but as Vercin blocked the blow with his sword, Connor plunged his knife forward. Vercin caught Connor’s wrist in his free hand. The knife hovered inches from Vercin’s stomach.

“You could have been a great general in the world that is coming,” Vercin said through clenched fangs.

Connor grunted as he pushed forward with both arms. “I prefer to be a great Judge in the world we have now.”

Vercin glared at him through his red and black eyes. Axe held in check by Vercin’s sword, Connor leaned his strength into pushing forward with his left hand. The knife inched closer.

Both men struggled to gain the upper hand. Locked in a struggle Connor knew he couldn’t win, his eyes caught motion. Both Zheng and Caderyn were struggling to their feet.

Connor knew he had to buy them time. Feet fighting for traction on the smooth wood of the palace floor, Connor braced himself and pushed forward.

Vercin countered by bringing more pressure down on his sword and shortening the space between Connor’s head and the axe he held under the sword’s pressure.

Chess, this is a chess match. You have to anticipate his moves. Think ahead.

Connor allowed Vercin to push the sword trapped by his axe closer and closer to his own head. The knife in his other hand was slowly being twisted away from Vercin. Connor’s wrist was being forced to move in an angle that nature had not intended.

Pain shot through his wrist and up his arm as tendons and muscles were strained. The sword was coming down on his head like the sun destined to set.

With a yell of pain, Connor made a decision, a decision to sacrifice himself. Caderyn and Zheng were on their feet and coming forward. Vercin’s eyes were glowing hate as he twisted Connor’s wrist to its breaking point. Vercin heard the racing footsteps behind him as Connor’s wrist snapped. Everything else happened at once.

Chapter 38

Blinding pain coursed through Connor’s left wrist and arm as he fell backwards under Vercin’s sword. As he toppled back, he dropped his own axe and grabbed onto the hilt of the very sword that had threatened his life a moment before.

With Vercin’s weapon trapped and Connor pulling him down on top of him, Vercin had one of two options as Zheng and Caderyn charged him with their own steel drawn. He could release the sword and meet this new attack weaponless, or he could allow himself to be pulled to the ground and wrestle his weapon free from Connor.

Vercin released his sword and for the first time ever Connor saw something besides pride and anger in his eyes. Through the pain, Connor saw fear on Vercin’s face.

Zheng swung low with his spear, forcing Vercin to jump over his blade as Caderyn came high with both knives. Vercin was off balance from the jump but despite this managed to dodge one of the knives in Caderyn’s hand; the other stuck hilt deep in his right shoulder.

A scream of rage that did not befit Vercin’s political personality rushed out between fanged teeth. Landing hard, Vercin wasted no time in extracting his revenge. He caught Caderyn’s arm that held the second knife as it arched down on him with one hand and sent a strike to his chest that rocketed him off his feet through the air into a large table that sat in the hall.

Zheng struck forward with his spear again. This time Vercin sidestepped the weapon, meeting Zheng’s chest with a kick that made a crunching noise as he too was sent flying through the air and crashing into the far wall. The impact of the strike brought down bricks and wood from the palace structure on Zheng’s limp form.

Connor watched this happen in a matter of seconds. In the time it had taken him to get to his feet with Vercin’s sword in his right hand it was already done.

Connor and Vercin met again. His left hand limp and held close to his chest, Connor brandished the sword in his right. Eyes locked on his opponent, Connor welcomed the Elite strength that coursed through his body. As both men prepared to charge, a voice shattered the intense silence.

“Randolph is going to make it, and that’s more than I can say for you.”

Vercin and Connor looked toward the entrance of the hall. Laren walked toward both of them, her head held high. Eyes yellow with rage, a shield in her left hand, sword in her right.

Vercin opened his mouth and snarled, “The first and only time I was defeated it took a coven of sorceresses and an army. I don’t think—”

“Enough talking. Just die already!”

Laren ran forward and crashed into Vercin, shield first. Like an angel of death, she pressed the fight. Connor joined her, still in shock at her boldness and at the same time admiration and respect growing in his chest for the woman he loved.

Vercin grabbed Laren’s shield in both hands and tore it off her arm, sending her flying though the air over his head.

Connor brought Vercin’s own sword down with his one good arm. Vercin caught the hilt and tore it from his hands. Both men stood weaponless. Rage building inside, Connor called on his Elite strength to see him to the end of the fight. Moving as fast as he could, he hammered away at Vercin’s face with his one good fist.

Vercin and Connor exchanged a series of brutal punches that would have ended the life of anyone else, Elite or human. But for every punch Connor landed, Vercin was landing two.

Like two titans in a heavyweight slugging match, fists collided with faces.

Blood spurted from Connor’s mouth and cuts were opened on his forehead and cheek.

Vercin pushed the fight forward despite his nose spraying blood. Between the searing pain in his left wrist and the brutal beating his face was taking, Connor began to move backwards.

Blow after blow landed on his temple and jaw in an attempt to bring him down to his knees. But Connor knew if he fell, even stumbled to a knee, that would be the end of him. Staggering backwards, Connor felt the wall behind him.

Vercin took this opportunity to land multiple strikes to Connor’s chest and body. Just as the edges of Connor’s vision began to dim, Vercin stopped striking and now placed both his hands around Connor’s throat.

A sick grin spread across his own bloodied face as he squeezed the life from Connor. Connor gasped. He tried to tear Vercin’s fingers from his throat but with one hand it was impossible.

As hope began to fade, as Connor gave in to defeat, both men heard a wet sliding thunk. Vercin’s grip on Connor’s throat faltered as he looked down at his chest.

Connor followed his gaze to see a foot of steel sprouting from his torso like a plant budding from the earth’s surface. Wet, red blood oozed out of the huge gaping hole.

Vercin looked like he would fall. The wound was enough, should have been enough to end him there. But Vercin was the most powerful Elite in history for a reason.

Sword still sticking through him, Vercin twisted and gripped Laren around the neck with a hand. Now, with Connor in his left and Laren’s throat in his right, Vercin squeezed.

But his hold had lessened. The tyrant king was weakened by his wounds. Connor’s face was a bloodied mess. His left hand hung useless by his side. He looked through curtains of red to see Laren tearing at Vercin’s grip around her throat.

Laren’s hair waved back and forth as she gritted her teeth and refused to give in to defeat. She struggled and fought but most of all she inspired Connor to continue to fight.

Vision blackening from pain and red with blood dripping into his eyes, Connor prepared himself for what he knew he had to do. For what he was born to do. To be the Judge they all needed.

One more rally. One more go. Get back up. Get back up, Connor! They need you! She needs you!

Body numb, tears of intensity and rage fell from his eyes, mixing with the crimson blood already pouring down his face. His Elite gene consuming his body, Connor found his footing. Black boots on hard ground, he stood rather than be pinned to the wall by Vercin’s grip.

Right hand tingling with power, Connor struck at Vercin’s grip. Nothing. He struck again and again like he was beating on a drum. Breathing had been unmanageable at first. When Laren had stabbed Vercin, breathing became hard but not impossible. Vercin’s grip was fading.

Connor beat on Vercin’s forearm, threatening to shatter bone.

Vercin’s legs were quivering underneath him as blood flowed out of his near immortal body and onto the dark wooden floors of the palace. But still, head bowed, he held onto both of their throats.

Again and again and again Connor struck with his only good hand. Looking at Laren for the silent strength her eyes provided, Connor drew back and landed a strike that sent a tremor through Vercin’s body. Vercin’s grip all but failed.

It was enough. Connor felt the pressure lessen and he made his decision. The decision to take a life.

Reaching across Vercin, Connor grabbed the hilt of the dagger that still stuck in his shoulder from Caderyn’s previous attack. Gripping the dagger’s hilt, Connor tore it free. 

The simple act of this motion showed how far Vercin was already gone. Vercin’s arms dropped to his side. Laren fell to the ground, gasping. Vercin slumped to his knees, face pale, breathing in like a man drowning.

Connor moved to stand in front of him, dagger brandished in case it was some kind of trick. But Vercin was past all tricks as he swayed on his knees. Eyes dilated back to their normal brown and blue, fangs receded.

Blood dripped from his lips as he fought to breathe. A look of wonder was on his face, almost admiration for the man who had killed him.

“How—how did you defeat me?”

Connor let his father’s dagger clatter to the ground as the intensity subsided inside of him. Red eyes turned brown as he looked at the dying man.

“Because there are greater things in this world to fight for than to rule others. Because hope and the people who you love around you are stronger motivators than the lust for power.”

Vercin considered Connor’s answer as if he had never heard the words before. An expression of understanding passed over his face as realization struck him the same moment as death.

Vercin slumped over and lay motionless. The once Elite Judge was dead.

Connor stumbled to Laren’s side where she was beginning to rise. The two more fell into each other’s arms than embraced.

“We did it,” Laren said.

“We did it,” Connor repeated. “Laren.”

Laren pulled herself away just far enough to look into his eyes. “Yes, Connor?”

“Don’t be scared. I’m not going to die but I think I’m going to pass out now.”