Clayton Emery - Sword Play

"I need him too!" shouted the warrior. "Levitate us all!"

"I can't! I've not enough dweomer! I'm using 'Mas's to levitate him. Let go! We'll call for help!"

"You lie!" Sunbright was enraged but fought to control his temper at the thought of more treachery. Perhaps she spoke true. Certainly the two mages looked as wrung out as rag dolls. "Forget me and just levitate Greenwillow then! She's light!"

"I… can't!" And clenching both fists, Sysquemalyn hoicked Candlemas into the air so hard he was wrenched from Sunbright's grip. "Fight on! Help is coming!"

Sunbright glimpsed Candlemas stir as Sysquemalyn slapped his face hard three times. She shook him violently and shouted in his ear. The podgy mage nodded groggily, but Sunbright couldn't hear their scheming, and had to turn his attention back to his own situation.

The tabletop they'd occupied had shrunk to the size of a chair, and Greenwillow and Sunbright teetered on it precariously, as if balanced atop a stone column. With the elf pressed to his chest, her dark hair tickling his nose, the barbarian cast about for a direction in which to jump. The light was more hellish than ever, yellow flames splitting the floors and spilling black smoke. The chasm below them glowed red some distance down: twenty feet or a hundred, there was no way of telling. Not far off, perhaps six feet, was a shaky-looking promontory, with staggering lemures beyond. Sunbright made a fast decision.

"I'm closest. I'll leap across, turn around, and lie flat to catch you when you jump. If I don't make it, you'll know it's not safe."

But the elf wasn't listening. She wrapped both arms around his chest and hugged him tight. Almost as tall as he was, she pressed her head against his ravaged neck. Despite the heat and smoke, he felt her wet tears spill down his skin, tickling his chest under his bearskin vest and shirt.

"Sunbright, I…" Greenwillow hesitated, afraid to say the words that were in her heart.

"I know," Clumsily, the barbarian cradled her slim back and patted her dark hair. "I feel the same, but there isn't time now. We must go."

Giving him a final hug, then tearing free, Greenwillow stuck her sword in her belt-it was too crusted with filth to fit in her scabbard-and pointed. "Yes, go. I'll follow."

But Sunbright couldn't just run off, not if both of them were to die then and there. Grabbing her slim chin, he planted his salt-crusted lips on hers, found them as cool and delicious as a draught of springwater. Then he shoved Harvester in his belt and turned.

The promontory beckoned from six feet off, barely his own length, a moderate jump given full strength and a running start. He had neither. Making do, he squatted low on his toes, poised, sucked wind, and leaped into space.

In the short time he was airborne, he had the thought he'd never make it, that he was falling short. But something gave an added boost to his rump and heels, and he crashed to his knees on solid stone, only his ankles and heavy boots dangling over the edge of the fearsome pit. Harvester ground into his side, dead weight he probably should have discarded.

Greenwillow, he thought. She'd shoved him with all her strength to carry him across. Without her help, exhausted as he was, he'd have surely fallen in. He had to get her across quickly.

Spinning about on bleeding knees, he flopped on his belly and stuck his arms over the edge to catch her. Peering through smoke and flame, he shouted, "Come on, Green-"

She was gone.

Stupefied, horror-struck, Sunbright at first wouldn't believe it.

No, he thought. It couldn't be true. She couldn't have…

Down he stared into the fiery caldron that raged in the gaps. If Greenwillow had fallen…

Then it hit him.

She'd sacrificed herself to save his life. She'd known he couldn't jump the whole distance, had hunkered low and shoved him off. That's why she hadn't attended his instructions, because she'd known she'd never make the jump. Heaving his weight had cost her the precarious perch, and she'd toppled off, fallen to her…

… death.

"Noooooo!"

Blind with rage and horror and sorrow, Sunbright came to all fours. Harvester dragged on stone, and in fury he ripped the sword from his belt, prepared to throw it down into the burning chasm and himself after it. If he hadn't worn his heavy sword, perhaps she needn't have pushed him. If he'd thrown it first… If she'd only told him, he could have hurled her first.

If only, the death of dreams.

Frantic, he scrambled to the very edge, leaning out and craning his neck to see. But roaring heat seared his eyeballs and curled his sweat-damp hair. If only she'd landed on some outcropping. If only…

Something tugged at his boot, and he spun in place. Blind rage was creeping up on him, an urge to kill and smash and destroy. It was a curse of his people, he knew, the berserker's rage that made a man or woman charge into battle and kill and kill until he or she was cut down and hacked to ribbons.

And the one who'd tugged his boot was Sysquemalyn, the source of all this trouble.

Howling like a banshee, the barbarian locked both hands on the mage's throat, raised her in the air, and shook her so savagely her teeth rattled and her neck almost snapped. He screamed, "You! You did this! You killed her! Your scheming and plotting and desire for power…"

Hoisted as high as a chicken at slaughter, Sysquemalyn struggled, kicked, raked the back of his hands with chipped red nails. Only her personal shield kept her alive, for the barbarian's strength was awe-inspiring. This man could snap her neck like a straw.

Hammering and drumming on his arms and chest, she still tried reason. "Yes, it's my fault! But don't kill me, or you'll never get out of here alive! You still need magic-"

"I don't care if I die!" Spittle flew from Sunbright's lips. His face was a gargoyle's leer, his mouth dragged down and distorted, his eyes flaming red. For the first time, Sysquemalyn was truly frightened of him. This "mud man" was suddenly the most dangerous being in this corner of hell. "I'll see you dead first!"

"Greenwillow… wouldn't… want that!" the mage gasped. Despite her shield, her throat was constricted, and she gagged on a snarl. "Don't waste her sacrifice, fool. She kept you alive to live and fight. Help is on the way. Now fight! For her!"

The command to attack penetrated Sunbright's grief-stricken mind and he snatched up his sword. Running across the cracked floor, the first thing he encountered was one of the blind giants, presently mauling an imp with both fists. The human roared and attacked both. Flinging Harvester behind him with no attempt to parry or shield, he swung so hard he cut clean through the imp's horned head and deep into the thigh of the giant. When it turned, as dead-white as a rotten fish, as strong as an oak tree, he slung the sword directly overhead. The bending giant felt the sword strike it square between its eyes, smack in the forehead, and the awesome blow stunned even this insensate thing. It collapsed full out, but by then Sunbright had attacked elsewhere.

Right, left, whirling behind him, the berserker lashed out at everything that moved, as mindless and hostile as the blind giants themselves. He saw nothing but a red haze and moving shapes, and he struck, again and again. From far off he heard voices: the pit fiend's howl, Candlemas calling his name, Sysquemalyn screaming spells. But nothing penetrated, except the fact that Greenwillow was dead and had died to save his worthless hide. So on and on he fought, intent on killing until he was killed.

But gradually, the red haze gave way to white. Bright whiteness, brighter than that of the bone creatures, brighter than sun on snow or the biggest star. The white light pulsed and flared, flooding the dark chamber with brightness never seen in these depths before. Even Sunbright, berserk and raging, couldn't face the white light, and he had to turn away, looking for more enemies.