Simon Hawke - The Seeker

“We may have something to say about that,” Ryana said.

“You shall have precious little to say about anything, my lady,” Torian replied with scorn. “You enjoyed the hospitality of my tent, and you repay me by stealing my property.”

“Your property?” Korahna said with disbelief.

“Priestess or not, no one plays me for the fool,” Torian continued, ignoring Korahna’s outrage. He turned toward Sorak and raised his blade, using it to point at him. “And you, elfling—you I shall kill personally.”

“Talk won’t get it done,” said Sorak.

“Then I am done talking,” Torian said, raising his blade and leaping toward him.

With a motion so deceptively fast and smooth that it almost looked lazy, Sorak drew Galdra and parried Torian’s blade as it came down. The moment Torian’s sword came in contact with the elven steel, it split cleanly in two. Torian did not even feel the impact of the parry. His arm continued on with the downward stroke, throwing him off balance, and as the upper half of his sword blade clanged to the rock floor of the grotto, Torian recovered, staring with astonishment at what remained of his sword . . . the hilt and a foot of blade.

“You were saying?” Sorak said, raising one eyebrow. Torian’s eyes grew wide with fury. “Kill him!” he shouted to the mercenaries. “Shoot him down!”

The mercenaries raised their crossbows and shot their bolts, but though no more than fifteen paces separated them from their target, each bolt flew wide of its mark. The mercenaries gaped in astonishment.

Torian sputtered incoherently and screamed at them, spittle flying from his lips. “Idiots! What’s the matter with you, can’t you even hit a target not twenty feet away? Shoot him, I said! Shoot him! Shoot him!”

The mercenaries reached for fresh bolts, but suddenly all their arrows simply took flight on their own, leaping from their quivers and flying across the grotto to clatter against the far wall and drop into the pool.

Ryana’s bolt, however, did not miss its mark. It struck one of the mercenaries in the throat, and he fell, choking and gurgling and clutching at his neck where the arrow penetrated his larynx and poked through to the other side. As he collapsed, Ryana drew her sword. “The rest are mine,” she said. Torian gaped as she waded into the remaining mercenaries, swinging her sword with both hands.

With a scream of inarticulate rage, Torian drew his dagger and hurled it at Sorak.

Sorak merely raised his hand, and the dagger stopped in midair as if it had struck an invisible wall.

Torian’s jaw dropped in disbelief; the dagger clattered harmlessly to the ground. His hand clawed for his second dagger, but before his fingers could close around the hilt, the knife flew out of its sheath and sailed across the grotto in a high arc over Sorak’s head, falling into the waters of the pool behind him.

Seeing Torian disarmed, standing there stunned and apparently helpless, Korahna suddenly rushed toward him in a fit of royal outrage. “Your property, am I?” she said, her eyes blazing with fury. “I will show you whose property I am!”

“No, Princess!” Sorak cried out, but it was too late. She swung to backhand Torian across the face. As her blow fell, Torian took her hand, spun her around, and grabbed her from behind. Seizing her in a powerful grip, he held her before him, one arm clamped across her throat, the other gripping her by the hair. “Try any more of your tricks, elfling, and I’ll break her neck! Drop your sword, priestess!”

The two remaining mercenaries, though seasoned and experienced fighters, had had their hands full with Ryana. Her assault had backed them to the mouth of the grotto, and now, when she saw that Torian had the princess, she hesitated, backing away slightly and holding her sword before her. The two mercenaries took advantage of the respite to spread apart, one to either side of her, ready to move in. Her gaze shifted quickly from them to Torian and back again.

“Drop your sword, I said!” Torian repeated. “Drop it or I’ll kill the bitch!”

Ryana hesitated. “Sorak ...” she said, uncertain, while keeping a wary eye on her two antagonists, who held their ground.

“If you kill her,” Sorak said, “then there is nothing to save you from me.”

“And if I let her go, I suppose you will graciously allow us to retire and go our way,” said Torian sarcastically. He gave a barking laugh. “No, my friend, I think not. You are not that stupid. You know that I would only bide my time and try again. You could not afford to let me live. I advise you to tell the priestess to drop her sword, before I grow impatient.”

“Sorak,” she said, “what should I do?”

“Don’t listen to him, Ryana,” Sorak said. “Those men will kill you the moment you drop your sword.”

“I give you my word that they shall not,” said Torian.

“You expect me to trust your word?” Sorak replied contemptuously.

“You do not have much choice,” said Torian. “But even so, you do not trust me. Consider this: I stand to gain nothing by having the priestess killed. She is of more value to me alive, as a hostage.”

“The princess is of more value to you, still,” said Sorak, stalling for time as his mind raced to find a way out of the situation. One quick twist and Korahna’s neck would be broken. And he felt sure that Torian would not hesitate to do it. “You came all this way for her. Kill her now, and what have you got to show for all your efforts?”

“Clearly, it would be a Joss,” Torian admitted in an even voice, “and doubtless it would mean my life, as well. However, I would have died denying you your satisfaction, and that would count for something, I suppose. You have some designs of your own for the princess, I’ll wager, else you would not have risked so much to bring her with you. The priestess, perhaps, would have helped her out of the goodness of her heart, and as a fellow preserver, but you? I think not. I think there is something in this for you, something that you want. A reward, perhaps, or something else that she has promised you.”

Sorak damned the man for his shrewdness. He had hit upon the truth, though he did not know exactly what it was. He did need the princess, quite aside from his concern for her, and Torian knew it.

“If release her now,” said Torian, “then there is, indeed, nothing to save me from you. And if I kill her, then I face death, as well. Either way, conditions would remain the same. I am prepared to meet them, one way or the other. But so long as she remains alive, well then, the game continues. I will take the priestess as my hostage to make sure you do not try any of your tricks . You have demonstrated that you are a master of the Way, and I have no more illusions about my ability to kill you. The priestess shall ensure that you do not kill me.”

“What do you propose?” asked Sorak tensely.

Torian smiled, realizing he had turned things around dramatically and now had the upper hand. “I will make my way to Gulg with the princess and the priestess. You shall have the liberty to follow us, but not too closely, for if I see you, the priestess shall suffer for it, understood?”

“Understood.”

“Sorak, no!” Ryana cried.

“We have little choice, Ryana,” he replied.

“Listen to him, Priestess,” Torian said. “Now is not the time for foolish thoughts or noble gestures.”

“Go on,” said Sorak. “State your terms.”

“When I reach the safety of my family estate,” said Torian, “I shall release the priestess. Unharmed, so long as you do your part. The princess remains with me. Whatever reward she has promised you, I shall match it so that you shall not walk away with nothing to gain—That will give you an incentive to continue on your way and trouble me no more. I have no desire to watch my back for the remainder of my life. You shall wait outside the gates of Gulg. I will send your reward with the priestess, and you can meet her there. If you see foot within the city gates, I will leave word to have you killed. Even a master of the Way cannot stand against an entire city guard.