Simon Hawke - The Seeker

Korahna turned and grinned at him over her shoulder. “One good rescue deserves another,” she said.

“We must get you out of the city with all possible speed. Word has reached us that the templars have ordered the entire city guard to converge on this area. You saw but a small complement of them. The entire elven quarter will soon be swarming with half-giants looking for you.”

“Suddenly, I am feeling very anxious to be on our way,” Ryana said.

They ran down another alley and out into the street at the opposing end.

“Aren’t we are heading away from the city gates?” asked Sorak as they ran.

“There is a hidden tunnel leading underneath the city walls at the far end of the elven quarter,” said Korahna. “That will be our chance to get you out of the city safely. The diversion created by my friends should help us. Most of the city guard will be drawn to the fighting in the street outside the tavern.”

As they rushed to the end of the lane and turned a corner, they suddenly ran right into another squad of half-giants.

“Well, maybe not all of them,” Korahna said, drawing her sword. They were too close to run. Only a dozen yards or so separated them. The half-giants bellowed and charged, brandishing their war clubs.

Ryana felt a sudden shiver run down her spine as Sorak moved quickly past her. He had the lethal grace of some predatory beast, and she realized that Sorak was gone and the primitive entity called the Shade had risen to the fore from deep within his subconscious.

Moving with incredible speed, the Shade met the charging half-giants and waded into them with Galdra flashing. In the blink of an eye, one half-giant was cut completely in two, and his severed torso fell screaming to the ground. Galdra flashed again, and an agafari war club was cut through as if it were no more than a dry stalk of desert grass. Another half-giant toppled, screaming, to the ground. Then Ryana saw a sudden change come over the others.

Several of them recoiled and dropped their clubs, cowering helplessly before their antagonist, while others simply bolted. Ryana abruptly understood why she had felt that shiver run down the entire length of her spine. Each of Sorak’s inner personalities had some psionic talent all its own. The Shade’s was an aura of unrelenting terror. She had sensed it rising as he passed her, and now she felt it even more strongly as it radiated from him like waves of pure, bestial malevolence. It was stark and primal terror, the hypnotic, gripping fear that strikes tiny mammals when they gaze into serpents’ eyes, the involuntary paralysis of the rodent as the winged predator swoops down for the kill.

But even as she realized what was happening, she became overwhelmed by it herself. The Shade was not projecting it only at the half-giants that fell before his flashing blade; it emanated out from him in all directions.

Korahna cried out as she felt it and panicked. She took off, screaming, down the street, running as if her life depended on it. Ryana ran after her, or perhaps with her, some part of her mind trying to tell her it was no threat to her, but she could not help herself. She had to run before she froze in helpless terror and was consumed by it. A block away, she felt fear ebb and rationality return. Korahna was still running ahead of her, caught up in the momentum of her flight.

“Korahna!” Ryana shouted after her as she ran to catch her. “Korahna, w ait!”

And then she saw another squad of half-giants, a dozen or so led by a templar, come into the street. Korahna, in her flight, was going to run headlong into them.

“Korahna!” Ryana screamed. “Stop!”

She ran with all the speed she could muster, closing the distance between them, and then she leapt, tackling the princess from behind. They both fell, sprawling, to the street. Ryana rolled on top of her and pinned her down.

Korahna struggled, and Ryana gave her a stinging slap across the face.

“Come out of it!” she cried. “Korahna, for pity’s sake!”

She struck her again, and Korahna’s head jerked with the blow, and then her eyes seemed to clear. She stared up at Ryana, confused and uncomprehending.

“Korahna, we’re in danger! Get up!”

They struggled to their feet, but the half-giants were already upon them. The monstrous guards broke ranks quickly and surrounded them, leering down and slapping huge war clubs into their large and callused hands.

“Well, what have we here?” the templar said, stepping forward. “If it isn’t the traitor’s daughter, returned to receive her just desserts.”

“Narimi!” said Korahna.

“You should have stayed away, Korahna,” the older woman said, gazing at her with scorn. “You are a disgrace to the royal house.”

“The royal house is a disgrace!” Korahna said. “I am ashamed to have been born to it!”

“A situation that is easily remedied,” the templar said. “You shall not have to live with your shame much longer. You will be executed, as your mother was, but first you will name all your accomplices in the Alliance.”

“I will die first!” Korahna said, grabbing for her sword.

But even as she tried to draw it, the templar swept out her hand, and the blade froze in its scabbard. Korahna pulled with all her might but could not free the sword.

Ryana concentrated, focusing her psionic energies upon the club of the half-giant standing behind the templar. He grunted as it twisted from his grasp and flew up into the air, arcing toward the templar’s head. But she quickly turned and again flung out her hand. There was a flash of light as the agafari wood was incinerated in midair before it could come down on her.

Then the templar pivoted and swept her arm out toward Ryana. An invisible force struck her in the chest, and she flew backward, landing at the feet of the half-giants behind her. Stunned and with the breath knocked out of her, she could not focus her will.

“A good attempt. Priestess,” said the templar, “but psionics are no match for magic. You shall die as well, but first you shall tell me where the elfling is.”

“I will tell you nothing, bitch!”

“I think you shall,” the templar said, raising her land once again. “Hold her.”

Two of the half-giants bent to pick her up, but as they did, something came whistling through the air over their heads.

The templar made a grunting, gasping sound as the knife struck her in the chest. She looked down at it with astonishment, then collapsed to the ground. Instantly, the street was filled with a hail of arrows.

“Get down!” Ryana shouted, sweeping Korahna’s legs out from under her and rolling over on top of her.

All around them, the half-giants fell, bellowing in pain and fury as arrows seemed to sprout suddenly from their bodies.

In seconds, the street was littered with their lifeless bodies.

The hail of arrows ceased, and Ryana looked up. A number of tall figures stepped out of the shadows around them, perhaps a dozen or more, all carrying crossbows. Elves and half-elves. And leading them was a familiar figure.

“You!” Ryana said.

It was the thief from the tavern. And a moment later, Sorak came up beside him. Ryana’s eyes grew wide as she saw him. He was completely covered in blood.

“Sorak!”

“It is all right,” he said. “The blood is not my own.”

“You should have seen him!” said the thief. “He was magnificent! The half-giants fell like chaff before him!” He turned and spoke to his companions. “Did I not tell you, scoffers? Truly, he is the king the legends foretold!”

“I have told you once already, I am no king,” said Sorak.

“You carry Galdra, the blade of ancient elven kings.”