The Death of a Swordsman 2

2

Less then ten minutes later, the walls collapsed onto the carriage. Varad bellowed 'Go!' a fraction of a second beforehand at some indistinguishable cue, and Pug had instantly snapped the reins. The team bolted forward as ruined buildings on either side came tumbling down. As such the collapse mostly hit the carriage bed and swamped the coffin in wreckage.

Varad leaped directly into the falling wreckage and dashed through it, heading for sunlight as his footing fell away below. He burst through into clear air like a breaching whale and shot into space, looking around. Morryin was nowhere to be seen. Instead another set of falling buildings ahead were crashing down onto the road. Waves of debris flooded the road. Furious, Varad finally landed on another structure, but this one imploded under his weight the second his feet hit it.

Pug worked his team like a miracle. The wood and bricks that tumbled around him were shoddily made, and lighter than they should have been. They hit the side of the carriage and threw it up on two wheels, but the team had enough slack not to be pulled off their hooves. Instead they charged forward, and dragged the carriage out of the dirt avalanche. Another building imploded beside them, but none of that rubble spewed into the street.

Feeling sick with frustration and fury, the driver stared at the collapse ahead. It was cruder than the other road blockages had been, and there were no broken spars jutting up.

"To seven hells with this," muttered Pug, and he slowed the team from a sprint to a walk. They hit the slope and dragged him straight up.

Under hoof and wheel the wreckage slid like mud, yet Pug was not dissuaded. As he summited one pile, it groaned, shifting away from the roadway and gliding sideways, dragging the carriage with it. It hit the backside of another building that crashed to earth, almost around the horses. Pug suddenly changed directions and rode straight into it, and as the dirty walls collapsed he came out the far side. There was another road here. More debris flowed into the street, eroding the ground floors of all the nearby buildings. Pug watched his head and turned towards the setting sun.

A hundred yards along Morryin waylaid him. The horseman lurched up from a side road and leaped from his saddle to crouch on the passenger seat. The Hurt gleamed red in the sunset.

Morryin smiled. Pug quivered. Varad exploded out of a nearby wall, drawing as he came, and went for a decapitation. Morryin parried badly, and the force of the swing knocked him off the carriage. Varad landed where he had stood and screamed 'Flee!' before chasing the dismounted horseman to the ground.

They shared a short, violent exchange of parry and riposte. With stable footing they both dodged more then they parried, but the occasional ring of steel shot through the evening. The few small rat people who'd been watching fled, much like Pug who wasted no time following orders.

Morryin fought very linearly. With his longsword before him, he stuck to the narrow range band where he could tag Varad but not the other way around. He always faced the shorter man, and made much of his height. In return Varad never came straight forward. He incessantly worked to flank, tending to Morryin's off hand but kept it varied. While Morryin's footwork was much simpler, Varad was truly in his element on stable ground. His movements were quicker. Morryin began to retreat, and then whistled a complex series of tones at the horse.

Shifting to a low forward stance, Varad circled towards the center of the road and then lunged. Morryin parried to the outside, Varad locked it up nearly at their chests, and then grunted and hurled the taller man back into a wall. Instead of resisting Morryin took advantage of Varad's strength. He bounded off the wall leaving a crumbling hole, and then dashed along the side to drop into his saddle. The midnight charger nickered and took off at a gallop, away from Varad. Morryin twisted back in his saddle to wink at him.

The dismounted swordsman suddenly realized that Pug's haste of obey instructions had taken the carriage some distance away. Morryin could cover that ground far faster than him. A single scream of 'Damn!' echoed through the old city, and then Varad was sprinting as well. He saved time by going through buildings instead of around them, and his progress was marked by a path of devastation and collapse.

Some distance ahead Pug was going much slower then he wanted through the tiny, cramped roads. He could hear sounds of horrifying destruction from somewhere behind him, and it worked to urge his team on to greater efforts. Unfortunately the tiny, winding streets limited his speed, and he was constantly riding the brake while trying to still their panic. Eventually he found a wide avenue going in the direction he wanted and settled into it at a canter.

Varad caught up with him not far from the exit gate. He loped out of a side street while the sounds of collapse rumbled softly away behind him. Gasping, he met Pug and hopped back aboard. Sweat soaked dirt painted his face gray and brown, and his dirty cloak was now burgundy.

"Where were you?" Pug asked.

"Busy," Varad replied while sucking in air.

"How'd you get here?"

"Ran."

"But the team was canting! There's no way you could have caught up," Pug argued.

"You used roads," Varad countered and finished his breathing. "Stupid weak lungs. I've been off the mountain too long. I'm getting used to it."

"You fought Morryin?" Pug asked, looking around.

"Yes. Didn't kill him."

"I can tell. He's right there," Pug replied.

Varad's head snapped over. Several hundred yards up a side street, Morryin was slouching in his saddle with an expression of patronizing amusement. He raised a hand and waved. If a wave could be insulting, that one would have been.

Varad stared at the horseman, baffled, before suddenly twisting to look at the carriage bed. The tsunami of building wreckage had ruined it, sweeping away the cargo ties and gate. Now there was loose debris and trash behind him but no coffin.

"DAMN!" he screamed again, and the word echoed off the sky.

Morryin sighed happily, like all was well in the world. With a wink and a smirk he waved again and rode back into the Narrows at an easy pace. Pug started to snicker.

Varad turned his head with glacial slowness to stare at the driver with pure murder in his eyes. Pug met the expression blandly.

"What? You don't think that was funny?" he asked behind a smirk.

"No. No, I do not."

"Your loss."

"Turn the wagon around. We're going back."

"No, we aren't," Pug said tiredly. "We're almost to the exit, it's almost sundown, and we're leaving."

"None of that matters-" began Varad, but Pug overrode him.

"The carriage is broken!" he yelled, accentuating every word. "Even if we did go back and find the coffin, we can't carry it! I need to stable the team, check them out, find a blacksmith, farrier, and woodcarver, and then it will take days, possibly weeks to get the carriage fixed. Or can we do that without leaving? Do you think there's a farrier around here? Perhaps a woodworker is hiding under a heap of garbage?" Pug asked, layering the sarcasm on thick.

Instead of saying anything, the swordsman closed his eyes and flexed his hands before trying to claw the frustration from his face. Pug glanced over at him, and then regretted his former words. Not that they weren't true, but Varad had all the money and this trip wasn't paid for yet.

"It looks like your friend is in a Hysterai coffin," Pug observed mollifyingly. "No one can open it, and Morryin's not going to carry it away with just a horse. It will be fine till morning. Then we can rent a wagon and come get it. As soon as the carriage is fixed, we'll head out again."

"You don't understand Morryin," Varad said quietly. His voice was strained to a soft whisper. "Morryin is one of the powers of the Earth. He'll find a way."

"I don't know what power of the Earth you're talking about, but your friend is in a Hysterai coffin. Those don't open."

"Then that's two things you're wrong about."

"What?"

"Morryin will get it open if he wants. And the occupant of that casket isn't my friend," Varad replied, and his words gained strength until they were spoken normally again. Galvanized he swung to the ground. "Can you find the wreckage where we lost the coffin on your own?" he asked, walking along beside the driver's seat.

Pug grimaced in surprise but answered, "Yes, but-"

"Get a wagon. Buy it or rent it, just get one. Get the team harnessed up, and meet me at the rubble tomorrow, and bring a couple big lads to do the heavy lifting. I'll meet you there." Then he turned aside, and started back the way they had come.

"It's almost nighttime!" Pug yelled, glancing between his employer and the open gate. "You can't stay in the old city overnight!"

"I don't care!" Varad yelled back.

"Buddy, something's going to happen to you!"

"Not if I happen to it first," Varad replied, quietly and mostly to himself. Pug did not hear and gave up shouting with a sigh.

They parted ways. Pug passed outside the gate, where a group of laborers were waiting for him to leave before shutting the gate. He glanced back once, but the man in the red cloak was already gone.