Richard Baker: Avenger

“I’ve got Geran Hulmaster here!” the swordsman fighting him cried. “Two more of them are in the garderobe! Cut him down!”

“Cuillen mhariel,” Geran said, casting a spell in reply. Thin streamers of silver mist appeared around him, the best defense he could summon at the moment. He might be able to escape with a spell or two, but he couldn’t abandon Erna and Natali. He settled into a fighting crouch, standing his ground in the middle of the bedchamber, teeth bared in a grimace of determination. Here he would stand and, if fate ordained it, die, but he would not give ground. Then the assassins and the grinning hellspawn rushed him all at once.

For a single impossible moment Geran stood without yielding, his elven blade a silver blur as he parried and countered as fast and furiously as he’d ever fought in his life. The assassins closed in from all sides, sword points weaving and darting like steel serpents eager for a taste of his flesh, while the bearded devil hissed and bulled straight at him, slashing wildly with its iron talons. A point grazed his ribs, another pinked him in the thick of his left thigh, and raking talons furrowed his chest. Despite himself Geran faltered a step, trying to use his foes as shields against the others, but there were simply too many to deal with at once in the close quarters. So be it, he thought grimly. He’d try to take as many with him as he could, and hope that any assassins he delayed here missed their chance to kill more of the Hulmasters.

The rearmost assassin suddenly cried out, back arching as his arms flew up in the air. He took two staggering steps and then pitched forward on his face. Behind him stood Kara Hulmaster in her mailed coat, her saber dripping blood from its point. Her spellscarred eyes blazed with azure light, and a snarl of rage twisted her face. “Murderers!” she snarled. “You’ll not see the sunrise, that I promise you!” She leaped into the fray, driving against the two remaining swordsmen, who turned to meet her. Kara was almost as skilled with the sword as Geran, and two more Shieldsworn followed close behind her.

Geran took advantage of the sudden distraction Kara caused to duck beneath the slashing claws of the bearded devil and throw himself into the back of one of her opponents, driving the man into the wall. He seized the stunned assassin and threw him headlong back into the face of the bearded devil rushing after him, briefly tangling the two together. While the assassin struggled to get free, the swordmage snarled a spell of strength and drove his point through the man’s torso and into the body of the devil behind him. With the power of the strength spell, Geran shoved both his impaled foes three steps to the nearest wall and drove his sword through until it grated on stone behind them. When he yanked the blade free, the assassin groaned and slid to the floor, while the bearded devil screamed in rage before vanishing in a foul cloud of smoke like the others had. He turned back around just in time to see Kara finish her last opponent with a graceful slash across the throat. A moment’s calm settled over the room.

“Natali! Kirr! Are they safe?” Kara demanded.

“Natali’s here. Kirr ran off to hide. I don’t know where he is.” Geran found that warm blood was dripping over his brow from a cut he didn’t remember receiving. He wiped it away with the back of his left hand. “What of the harmach?”

Kara paled. “I’d hoped that you might know. I was making the rounds outside when I heard the fighting.”

A terrible suspicion dawned in Geran’s heart. He looked over to the Shieldsworn who followed Kara. “You two, stay here and guard Lady Erna and Natali,” he ordered them. “Watch out for Kirr, too, if you see him. Kara and I are going to the harmach.” He pushed past the soldiers into the dark hallway beyond, and hurried back in the direction from which he’d come. Kara raced along a half step behind him. They passed the door to Geran’s quarters and continued into the short hallway leading to the harmach’s chambers. There they found several more dead sellswords and Shieldsworn. Evidently there had been a fierce fight to defend the doors to Grigor’s room, which now stood open. He could hear more sword play and the sinister hissing of another devil from inside. Without a moment’s hesitation the swordmage stormed into the room, hoping he was not too late.

One Shieldsworn was still on his feet, doing his best to fight his way past two sellsword assassins at once. A pair of Hulmaster servants-stewards, not warriors-tried to fend off one of the bearded devils, flinching in terror from their infernal foe. Just behind them, Grigor Hulmaster struggled in the grip of a second devil, a wand clutched in his right hand. He fought to bring the implement to bear against his assailant, but the monster grinned in wicked amusement, its cruel talons clamped over the harmach’s wrist as it held the wand toward the ceiling. Before the harmach and the devil pinning him stood a hooded woman in dark mail, with a cleric’s black cassock over her armor. A long dagger glinted in her hand. She whirled as Geran and Kara burst into the room, baring her teeth in a fierce snarl.

“Arochen nemmar!” Grigor cried in a pained voice. “Unhand me, foul beast!” He had a little talent as a wizard, but not enough to deal with the monster that pinned him. The wand discharged a bright lance of dancing white motes, gouging the ceiling with its icy blast. The devil gripping him laughed aloud, a terrible sound like brazen saws grinding together.

“Release him!” Kara shouted. She rushed the cleric, but at that moment the last of the Shieldsworn fell, and the sellsword who’d been dueling the guard blocked her path. Her sword flickered like blue lightning as she tried to fight her way past.

“I hardly think so.” The cleric sneered. She raised her dagger and turned to the harmach.

Geran started forward as well, only to realize his way was blocked by the devil who toyed with the harmach’s stewards. In the space of an instant he summoned his teleportation spell to mind. “Sieroch!” he said, releasing the magic held in the symbols that danced in his mind. In a single instant he stood by the cleric in her black cassock, and lunged at her with his blade.

He was too slow.

As she struck at the harmach, her motion caught his point in the long sleeve of her cassock. Instead of running her through, the elven blade glanced from the mail under her robes. And the dagger she wielded plunged hilt-deep into Grigor Hulmaster’s chest. The old man grunted and sagged; the dark priestess yanked her dagger from the awful wound and twisted away from Geran’s grasp. “Destroy them! Destroy them all!” she shouted at the devils in the chamber.

“Uncle Grigor!” Kara screamed.

Black fury washed over Geran in an irresistible tide. He leaped after the cleric with murder in his eyes, but the devil holding Harmach Grigor contemptuously discarded the gray-faced harmach, tossing him aside like a broken toy as it slammed into Geran from the side. Geran was conscious of slashing claws and the burning touch of the stinging tendrils, and he answered with a furious burst of his own. Too close to use point or edge, he seized a handful of the beard-tendrils in his left hand, ignoring the acidic ooze burning his fist, and jerked the devil’s face down into his hard-driven right knee. Needle-sharp fangs pierced his leg, but more snapped and splintered under the impact. He brought the rose-shaped pommel of his backsword down against the top of the devil’s head with enough force to crack bone, and then rained down a second, a third, a fourth blow until the creature’s skull gave way and it vanished in a belch of black smoke.

He looked up just in time to see the last of the assassins lining up a thrust at Kara’s back while she fought the other devil in the room. But one of the wounded servants in the room-short, slight Dostin Hillnor, the harmach’s chamberlain-snatched up a heavy wooden chair and threw it at the sellsword behind Kara. The blow knocked the mercenary to the ground, and an instant later, Kara finished her infernal opponent with a sweeping blow that took off most of its hideous face.