Like a bull ready to crush his foe, Karez roared and stamped after Valorian again. His sword flashed in the sunlight. Valorian gave way before him, his own blade his only shield from Karez’s violent slashes.
Valorian knew he couldn’t hope to meet Karez’s attack blow for blow, so he deliberately lured the big man along and enticed him to make the powerful moves and the mighty swings with his heavy sword, while Valorian moved only as much as necessary and did little to push an offensive attack.
The duel settled into a steady sort of rhythm of thrust and swing, swipe and dodge. Time and again Karez charged at Valorian, and each time Valorian just barely slipped out of reach at the last moment. When their two blades did meet, the clash was heard all through the village. Back and forth the two men moved across the ring, their fierce struggle fought in the deadly silence of concentration. The crowd, meanwhile, yelled and cheered and offered advice, but the combatants didn’t hear a word.
Gradually Valorian’s breathing grew heavy and labored. His movements began to drag. It wasn’t long before his muscles had turned to liquid fire. He couldn’t move his sword without shooting pains in his arms, and he had to hold it with both hands just to ward off Karez’s violent Swings. His legs, too, were weakening fast and slowing his reactions.
He tried grimly to force his limbs to keep moving, but then he stumbled trying to parry one of Karez’s jabs and the passing edge of the sword caught his ribs. The blade slashed through the skin to the bone in a long, jagged line.
Karez grinned maliciously as Valorian staggered and nearly fell. The big clansman lunged forward to press his attack. With a sudden spurt of desperate strength, Valorian regained his feet. Instead of dodging out of Karez’s way, he slipped under the hacking cut of the sword and jabbed his own weapon blindly toward Karez’s big body as he went y. The keen blade cut deep into fleshy thigh.
Karez roared in pain and fury. Both men fell back, breathing hoarsely and shaking with their exertion. Their blood mingled with the sweat and dirt on their bodies to form’ muddy rivulets down their skins.
Valorian leaned forward a moment to prop his shaking hands on his knees. His breath burned in his lungs, and he had never been so exhausted. A troubled doubt rose in his mind at his ability to endure much more of this. He knew he could defeat Karez with one simple spell, but the price of such a betrayal was too high. On the other hand, he couldn’t fight like this much longer. He had gone beyond the reserves of his strength and was relying on sheer willpower alone. Mother Willa’s drink had helped for a while until it, too, had worn off. If he kept on fighting as he was, the price of his honor would surely be defeat or death.
He could tell the battle was finally taking its toll on Karez as well. The man’s movements had slowed considerably, his body was drenched in sweat, and his face was flushed dark red. And yet it wasn’t enough. Karez had started fresh and healthy; he still had stamina to burn.
Then another thought intruded into Valorian’s mind. It began like a tiny seed that takes root and grows into a magnificent flower. It was a vision of the Ramtharin Plains, green with spring grass and blue with open sky. The vision was so clear he could see the yellow butterflies in the wildflowers and smell the freshness of the wind that swept from a distant sea.
A sudden, powerful desire swept through him to see that land and claim it for his sons. He wanted to ride Hunnul forever over its rolling hills and pitch his tent beside its clear running streams. He wanted that land with every fiber in his being, and the only thing standing in his way was that fat, glistening man with the ugly face.
Valorian straightened slowly, his expression a mask of ferocity. From some buried place in his mind, a final reservoir of strength poured into his arms and legs. A challenging roar of fury burst from his lips.
Karez looked startled at the change in his hitherto half dead adversary. He lifted his sword just as Valorian launched himself across the space between them.
This time Valorian didn’t try to stay away from Karez. He threw himself into the fight like a berserker, using every ounce of skill he had to thrust and parry past Karez’s heavy swings. He knew he couldn’t beat down the bigger man, but the fury of his offensive was enough to keep Karez’s weapon from inflicting serious injury and to force the man to give ground. Valorian was nicked and cut on his arms and thighs, while his own sword drew blood from Karez’s arms, shoulders, and chest.
The burly man was beginning to look dumbfounded, and under his heavy lids was the rising shadow of fear.
Valorian pressed harder. He couldn’t overpower Karez’s stronger defense, so he tried to outmaneuver the bigger man. Stroke after stroke, he forced Karez around until the sun was behind his back. He felt its warmth on his skin, as if Amara herself were standing behind him, looking on with approval.
The bright light shone full into Karez’s eyes. Valorian saw him squint and saw his sword falter for the briefest moment. His teeth bared, Valorian struck. Before Karez realized what was happening, Valorian drove his sword past Karez’s guard, slashed his arm, and knocked his weapon flying to the rocky ground.
A cold, bloody point pressed into Karez’s throat. Trembling, the warrior stared into Valorian’s ice-cold eyes and saw the fierce, merciless glare of a hunting eagle. For a moment, his own bearlike pride refused to admit defeat, and his lips pulled back in a snarling grimace.
Valorian pushed the point of his black sword against the skin of his antagonist’s neck until blood dripped down the tip. “Well?” he growled.
Karez’s eyes bulged. “I surrender,” he finally said bitterly, words heavy with disappointment and defeat.
“Who am I?” hissed Valorian.
Painfully Karez knelt on the rocky ground and paid his homage. “Lord chieftain of the Clan,” he muttered.
Valorian raised his sword to salute the sun. The Clan roared its approval. He staggered slightly, for the surge of strength that had brought him this far was beginning to fade, leaving him dizzy and sick. Then he felt a warm, soft muzzle touch his shoulder. Hunnul had trotted through the crowd and was standing there, waiting for his master.
It took every vestige of Valorian’s willpower to hoist himself onto the black stallion’s back. Once he did, however, Hunnul’s own vast warmth and energy sustained him. The stallion pranced around the ring, his neck arched and his muscles flowing under his black coat. Valorian straightened, threw his head back, and shouted the Clan’s ancient war cry until it echoed throughout Stonehelm. His people picked up the cry and sent it soaring through the Bloodiron Hills.
At last he drew Hunnul even with Fearral’s daughters, and he dismounted before them. “We will do your will,” he said simply.
Taking her sister’s hand, the eldest marched into the big hall. Together they removed some important items: several old relics, a few personal belongings, and the banner of the lord chieftain, piling them safely outside the hall. The clanspeople watched them for a few moments before, one by one, they moved to help. Only Valorian and Karez stood back while the hall was emptied of its few valuables and the wooden walls were soaked with oil.
The Clan priests began to chant the songs of the dead. At the request of relatives, the fallen warriors brought back from Actigorium were laid by Fearral’s side. His daughters carefully laid the Tarnish tapestry over his body, then everyone left the hall to stand outside.
Fearral’s daughters lit the funeral fire by touching burning brands to the oil-drenched walls. The fire surged up toward the roof, and in a short time, the hall was a roaring inferno.
As Valorian watched the flames destroy the hall and the bodies of the honored dead, Kierla gently touched his wounded side. Looking at his pinched face, she said softly, “It will be evening before that fire burns down. Come. Rest while you can.”