Knight's Shadow (15 page)

Kest grinned. ‘I told you that you put too much weight on your back leg.’

Shuran regained his footing. ‘Again, I do not dispute your superiority with the blade at this time, Saint of Swords.’

Before Shuran could even get his weapon back into guard, Kest struck again, whirling his blade in and out of the line of attack like a snake. Filling the air with the mocking sound of steel against steel, the point of his sword struck once, twice, thrice: Shuran’s wrists, his knee-joints, his elbows.

Hells, how could
anyone,
even Kest, be that fast?

Shuran, despite his size, moved swiftly and with deadly force. As a swordsman, it’s almost impossible when watching a duel not to wonder if you yourself could take either of the opponents. Watching the way he moved, I doubted very much that I could beat Shuran in a fair fight – and yet I could see his heavy-footed stance was holding him back. Whatever injury had resulted in the burns on his body also kept him from being anywhere near Kest’s equal and Kest knew it. He used Shuran’s weaknesses against him, laughing all the while, relentlessly forcing the big man to rely on heavier and heavier swings to parry Kest’s blade. It felt like hours were passing by with each pass, and yet they had been fighting for just a few moments. The fight would not last much longer.

‘I told you when we met that I would take you in twelve moves, Knight-Commander,’ Kest said. ‘You’ve got five left.’

‘I believe we settled on fourteen,’ Shuran replied, his breath coming in heavy bursts.

‘Fourteen was for if I wasn’t planning to kill you.’

‘Kest, stop!’ I shouted. ‘That’s a fucking order!’

But Kest ignored me, instead focusing all his gleeful attention on Shuran. Watching the way he went after the Knight-Commander was sickening. He was using his greater speed and skill to bind Shuran’s movements, reminding me of a man using needle and thread to sew a shroud around a still-moving body. Kest was about to kill the Knight-Commander of Aramor right in front of his own men and destroy any hopes we had for an alliance with Aramor. Shuran stumbled back again and fell hard on one knee.

‘Get up,’ Kest said. ‘Get up one last time. Or yield, and I will mercifully separate your greedy head from its shoulders.’

Shuran kept his sword out in front of him even as he struggled to rise. ‘Think, man! Is this really what you want? To start a war between the Duke of Aramor and the girl you want to make Queen?’

Kest didn’t answer; he just grinned and motioned again for Shuran to rise. There was no way in all the hells we were all destined for that the Knight-Commander was going to survive this next attack.
Saints forgive me
, I thought, and drew a throwing knife from my coat.

‘What in all the name of Saint Laina’s left tit are you doing?’ Brasti hissed, his hand on my shoulder.

‘Preventing a war,’ I said, drawing back and throwing the small blade at Kest’s shoulder.

He barely turned towards me as his blade whipped up and dismissively knocked the knife out of the air. But I knew Kest better than anyone else in the world, and of course I knew what he was capable of doing with a blade – that’s why I’d drawn and thrown the second knife the instant the first one had left my hand. There was a small
thunk!
as my second knife pierced his thigh. If he’d been wearing his greatcoat it would have protected him.
Had he left it off intentionally? Did some part of Kest want me to stop him?

‘Clever,’ he said to me, and grinned as he reached down to pull the knife out.

Oh shit . . .

I flipped up the collar, turned and crouched down, just in time to feel the blade strike at the bone plates sewn inside my greatcoat. The impact was only mildly painful, and yet it hurt me deeply. Had Kest known for certain I’d be able to protect myself in time? Or was he so far gone that he was really willing to kill me?

I turned back to the two men to see Shuran trying to use Kest’s wounded leg to turn the tide of the fight. But it was too late – the big Knight had been struck so many times by Kest that I was surprised he could still hold his sword. Shuran gave a great roar and tried one last sweeping attack, only to have Kest catch the blow on the crossbar of his sword and twist hard in a sudden counter-clockwise motion that spun the blade out of Shuran’s hand.

Kest grinned. ‘Only one move left, Sir Knight.’

Shuran dropped to his knees, his hands at his sides. His Knights looked like they were ready to attack Kest, but the Knight-Commander held up a hand. ‘No! We are Ducal Knights. We are men of honour. When this is done, fly, all of you – take separate roads. Whoever reaches the Duke first, tell him that the Greatcoats have betrayed us.’

‘Kest!’ I shouted again, ‘
stop
! For the love of the King, you must stop!’

He turned to me and for an instant he looked like himself again, as if victory was quieting the madness inside him. The moment didn’t last. ‘I’ll be with you in a moment, Falcio,’ he replied and turned back to Shuran.

Kest was more than a brother to me. I’d known him since we were children and I’d loved him every day since. But I couldn’t let him destroy the King’s dream. I slipped off my greatcoat and drew my rapiers. I turned to Brasti. ‘If this doesn’t work, you have to shoot him.’

‘You want me fire an arrow at Kest?’

‘Not just one, as many as it takes. You keep firing until he stops moving.’

‘He can’t parry an arrow, Falcio.’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘he can.’ I walked towards Kest. ‘You just keep shooting until he stops moving.’

Kest kept his sword on Shuran as he let his gaze drift towards me. ‘Why did you take off your coat, Falcio?’

‘If you kill him, I’m next. Give me your sword, Kest, or else fight me.’

Kest’s eyes narrowed. ‘You think you can beat me? Without even the protection of your coat? Falcio, I think you might be going a little insane.’

‘Let’s find out.’

His expression changed, just a bit, as if he were suddenly confused about where he was. He was close to coming back to us; I just wasn’t sure if he was close enough. I took another step forward.

‘Falcio, stop . . .’ Then he said, ‘I don’t want to kill you.’

‘Nevertheless, those are your options.’ We were almost in range of each other now. Damn me, of all the deaths I’d ever envisioned for myself – and I have a
very
inventive mind – this wasn’t one of them.

Kest looked at me and then at Shuran, his lips moving as if he was talking to himself, and I could see them forming the word ‘no’ over and over again. Suddenly he brought his sword up high in the air and tilted the point down, towards Shuran’s chest. The angle would allow him to use his tremendous strength to drive the blade straight through Shuran’s chestplate.

‘No!’ I screamed and, cursing myself, I leapt towards him in a long lunge.

Kest beat away my rapier effortlessly and tossed his own sword lightly in the air, flipping it over so that he could grab the blade and aim the pommel at Shuran. He brought it down on Shuran’s chest like a farmer trying to drive a stake into the ground. A sound like the clanging of a church bell filled the courtyard, and when I looked back at Shuran he was still on his knees, but reeling mightily from the blow. There was a small circular indentation the size of Kest’s pommel on the left side of Shuran’s chestplate. Kest had marked exactly where his point would have gone: straight into Shuran’s heart.

My best friend looked at me, his mouth quivering and his eyes uncertain, then he turned to the Knight-Commander of Aramor and said, ‘I yield!’ before falling unconscious to the ground.

*

A considerable amount of chaos followed. The moment Kest fell, Shuran’s men took up positions in a circle around the two opponents, with five men guarding Shuran while the others stood over Kest’s body. I ran to him, but several of Shuran’s men made it quite clear that I wasn’t going to get through them. Brasti, Valiana and Dariana joined me and together we faced off with the Knights.

‘Stop,’ Shuran said, breathing so hard he could barely get the word out. He removed his helm and I could see sweat dripping down his forehead, giving an unnatural sheen to the burnt side of his face. ‘It’s done. No one is dead and no one needs to be.’

‘Step aside and let us see to our man,’ I said.

The Knights moved closer together. ‘This mad dog of yours is our prisoner now,’ one of them said. ‘He tried to murder the Knight-Commander of Aramor.’

‘There’s something wrong with him,’ I said. ‘He’d never—’

Shuran cut me off with a wave of his hand. ‘This was a duel, fairly fought,’ he said to his men.

‘But Knight-Commander,’ one of the Knights said, ‘this man—’

‘First positions behind me!’ Shuran barked and the Knights, moving in perfect unison, shifted from a circle around Kest to a line of men standing four feet behind Shuran. The Knight-Commander took a step back to give me room and I knelt down next to Kest. When I felt for the beating of his heart I found it slow, slower than mine by far. But was that normal for Kest now? I had no idea, never having had a Saint for a friend before. He had an unworldly look to him now. The red glow of his skin hadn’t so much disappeared as turned inwards, as if he’d been standing out in the sun for several days. His skin was dry, almost burnt.

‘What in hells is wrong with him?’ I asked.

I hadn’t been expecting a reply, but to my surprise, Shuran spoke up. ‘It’s Saint’s Fever, I think.’

Brasti came forward to join me. ‘What is that, a joke? Saint’s Fever is just redberry sickness – it’s a child’s ailment!’

‘Parents call it Saint’s Fever because the symptoms are similar, but there really is a Saint’s Fever, and it’s named that for a reason. There aren’t that many written sources dealing with the nature of the Saints, but I’ve read something that speaks of a kind of ailment that builds inside them. How long has it been since Kest last bound himself in a sanctuary?’

‘I . . . I’m not sure I even know what you’re talking about,’ I admitted. We’d not exactly had the leisure for researching Kest’s new condition since he’d taken on Saint Caveil’s mantle.

Shuran looked at me as if he doubted my words for a moment. ‘You’re telling me he hasn’t
bound
himself? Not since he murdered the previous Saint of Swords?’

‘It was no murder but a duel, fairly fought,’ I pointed out. ‘Caveil was trying to kill
us
.’

‘Still, why has Kest not—?’

Brasti stepped forward. ‘What we’re telling you, metal man, is that we have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.’

The Knight-Commander looked back down at Kest, his eyes wide. ‘Gods! No wonder the madness was upon him. I can’t believe he managed to hold it back as long as he did—’

‘What is this sanctuary you’re talking about?’ I asked.

‘A church – any church. He has to spend three nights inside until—’

‘He can’t go into a church,’ I said. I wasn’t likely to forget our last encounter with Trin any time soon. ‘He couldn’t pass the stone circle.’

‘That’s how it works,’ Shuran said. ‘You need to go to a church and ask the cleric to remove one of the stones, then Kest will be able to pass through. The cleric will replace the stone and reconsecrate the circle—’

‘Won’t that trap him inside the church?’ Brasti asked. A pertinent question, I thought.

‘That’s the point: he’ll be bound inside the sanctuary. The force that burns inside him must be held in check. A Saint must be humbled by man’s church to be saved. If the stories are true, after three days the cleric can remove the stone once again and the Saint will be able to walk the world, once again able to control the divine madness.’

‘You know an awful lot about Saints,’ I said.

‘Doesn’t every man who aspires to become something greater than himself?’

The almost dismissive answer didn’t sit well with me, but looking down at Kest’s face reminded me we had more pressing concerns. His skin was returning to a more normal pallor but there was something thin and worn about him. ‘What do I do now?’ I murmured, almost to myself.

‘Nothing,’ Shuran said, stepping back from us and sheathing his sword. ‘I’m no expert, but from what I’ve read he should be fine for a while. When the fever strikes it is . . . well,
pronounced
, but its passing should leave him in control for some time. However, I would advise that once your business with Duke Isault is complete, you should find Kest a sanctuary.’

‘Shit,’ Brasti said. ‘Doesn’t sound like being a Saint is all it’s made out to be in the stories.’

Shuran smiled. ‘Few things are. And yet I imagine for those called it’s hard to resist.’

I thought back to what Kest had been shouting at the beginning of his fight with Shuran.
You think the hunger isn’t written all over your face when you look at me?
‘And you, Sir Shuran? Do you feel the call to become the Saint of Swords?’

‘Right now the only call I’m heeding is the one to return to my Duke,’ Shuran said. ‘Sir Lorandes, if you wouldn’t mind?’

One of the Knights broke out of formation and walked over to the horses. Without a word he took the reins of Shuran’s steed and led him back to us.

‘The rest of you will travel to the Ducal Palace together,’ Shuran said. ‘I’ll see you when you arrive, tomorrow or the next day.’ He turned and looked at his men. ‘On my honour, not one of my men will seek to do Kest – or any of you – harm.’

‘But why is it so important that you leave right now?’ I asked. ‘Why are you going ahead on your own?’

‘Because I have been summoned by my lord and instructed to proceed with all speed. I can reach the palace a good deal faster if I’m travelling by myself. I follow the Duke’s commands, Falcio. That’s how it works.’

I was standing close to him and he towered above me. I kept my focus on his eyes. ‘And what if the Duke decides to betray us?’

To his credit, Shuran didn’t blink. ‘Duke Isault is the ruler of Aramor. If he decides to go back on his agreement with you then there’s nothing I can do about that.’

‘So you’ll betray us if he asks.’

‘You really don’t understand Knighthood, do you, Falcio? If the Duke commands it, it won’t be a betrayal.’