Michael Manning - Mageborn - The Blacksmith’s Son

The only thing that saved me was the shield I had cast about myself. I pressed Devon hard, keeping him off-balance with heavy blows, but still his sword kept slipping my guard to strike at me. I would have been bleeding from a dozen places if it could have cut me. Finally we drew back to catch our breath.

I was breathing hard, winded already. My recovery was far from complete and it would not be long before my anger would no longer be enough to keep me fighting. Worse, Devon looked as though he was still fresh. He held his sword in front of him and ran his finger down the blade, “Thylen” he said, and I saw a glow appear along the edge.

I hadn’t learned that trick yet, and it worried me. From the corner of my eye I could see Rose pulling Penny away. The guards had us encircled now and Sir Kelton was shouting at me to put down my sword. They probably would have rushed me, dragging me down if Dorian hadn’t intervened.

“Get back!” His booming voice cut through the din as he broke into the circle. His sword was out and he glared at them from beneath dark brows. “The first man to interfere will find his insides on the floor!” he shouted. Then Devon came at me again.

We traded quick blows but he had me on the defensive now. I was backing as he pressed his advantage and I felt his sword tip catch my cheek, slicing effortlessly through my shield. Shit! I was desperate now, he seemed able to cut me at will, and even if I could get past his guard my sword wouldn’t pierce his shield.

I had an idea. Stepping back quickly I spoke, “Shelu Nian Trethis” and I found myself in utter silence. I had stoppered my ears with a special type of shield, one to prevent sound from entering. My own brilliance amazes me sometimes. I could see Devon’s mouth moving but I couldn’t hear his words. If I had to hazard a guess I would imagine it was something like, “You stupid fool.”

He came at me and I closed my eyes, “Lyet ni Bierek!” I said, and I put everything I had into it. The result was astonishing. Light flashed so brightly that everyone watching us was blinded, including I hoped, Lord Devon. The light was accompanied by a thunderous ‘boom’ so great that it shook the teeth in my jaw. Everyone within the ballroom drew back reeling, some fell to the floor crying out with shock. I would judge that my ‘flashbang’ was a success, although I still needed to work out a better name for it.

I opened my eyes and saw Devon sitting on the ground. He was blinking and seemed completely disoriented. His sword lay beside him but his hand couldn’t find it. I had created my spell right in front of him, so he should have gotten the worst of it. The flashbang was a creation of pure light and sound, with no force behind it to break or destroy. His shield had not protected him at all, not being designed to do so. In fact his shield still appeared to be around him. How annoying, I thought.

I swung at him with my sword, but it failed to do more than knock him sideways. I needed something bigger, heavier. I cast about, looking for a better weapon. My eyes landed on the eastern fireplace. Striding over I looked for the fireplace tools, but someone had taken the iron poker. I started searching the kindling piled next to the hearth instead. The great hall had two fireplaces, and they were so large that the logs were cut almost three feet in length. I selected a sturdy piece fully four inches in diameter. I held it up in a double handed grip, it seemed to have promise.

I headed back towards Devon. He was standing now and still seemed blind, but he didn’t need eyes to see me. Using his mage-sight he pointed at me and said something I couldn’t hear. White hot flames erupted around me, but my shield kept out the worst. The heat was so great my clothes began to crisp and char about me. I ignored the flames and marched at him, “Lyet Bierek” I said again, and a great cracking ‘boom’ sent him to the floor.

The flash had partly blinded me but I didn’t need my eyes any more than he did. The log swung in a great arc as I slammed it into his face. He flew several feet, crashing into a chair near the edge of the room. I hit him again, pleased he was still conscious. I began steadily raining blows on him with my firewood club. He tried to raise his sword but I knocked his arm aside. I thought it might have broken which brought a smile to my face. I smacked him about like one of the dummies the guards practice with, beating him senseless.

Finally he collapsed, unconscious on the floor. As he passed out his shield winked out of existence and I grinned, raising my makeshift club over my head. Someone touched my arm and I almost swung at them before I realized it was Marc. He was shouting something but I couldn’t hear him. I removed the sound block from my ears. “…if you kill him they’ll have you for murder!” he yelled.

I looked at him stupidly, “Yeah, so what?!”

“You’ll be hanged!” he shouted back.

I thought for a second, “If I don’t kill him he’ll press his case and have Penny hanged!”

Marc looked at me for a moment, “You’re right. Kill him.” Then Dorian appeared, still blinking his eyes from my earlier spell.

“Let me do it,” he said, pointing at Devon with his sword.

We started arguing, trying to decide which of us should finish him off when James Lancaster found us. “Put the firewood down Mordecai. Dorian sheathe your sword!” his tone brooked no delay. I looked down at the piece of wood I held, it was still burning from the fire Devon had used on me, so I walked over to the fireplace and threw it in.

Around the room people were still recovering. Several men were beating out a fire that had started near where Devon tried to roast me. A large tapestry was in flames but it looked like they would be able to keep it from spreading. I walked back to the Duke, his son was arguing with him but he shouted Marc down, “I’m not hanging anyone, not you, not Penelope, not even this piss poor excuse of a lord here! Now shut up and let me think!” I was pretty sure that by ‘piss poor excuse of a lord’ he meant Devon, but there was a possibility he meant me instead.

I decided to ignore them and started looking for Penny. I found her with Rose, sitting at one of the small tables to the side. They were surrounded by a crowd of people, some of them watched me as I walked over. I showed my teeth and growled at them, “Move!” They cleared out quickly, and a few even ran.

I looked at Penny, she was sitting up but her face looked terrible. One eye was swelling shut and her nose looked like someone had formed it from a badly shaped piece of bread dough. “Oh Mort, your cheek!” she exclaimed. Her voice had a comical nasal twang, as if she were holding her nose pinched shut.

“Shut up stupid,” I said gently. I sat down next to her and touched her face with my mind. Sure enough the bone in her nose had snapped and been driven sideways. My experiments on my own bones had taught me a few things, so I spoke a quiet word first, damping all sensation in her face. Then I moved the bones back into place and reconnected them. My attempt at pain blocking wasn’t entirely successful, because she still let out a choked cry as the bones realigned. I couldn’t do anything about the swelling but at least she wouldn’t look funny when it healed.

I tried to kiss her but that didn’t work. Her nose was far too tender, plus she kept going on about my face. Eventually Rose dragged me over to a mirror along one of the walls. I was a horror, my right cheek was drooping, exposing my upper teeth; blood coated that side of my face and ran down my neck. Odd, I hardly felt it at all. I pushed the skin back together and sealed it with my finger and a thought, leaving a red line. I would later regret the rush job, since I still have an ugly scar there to this day.