Xenolith (The Convergence) by A. Sparrow

Author:A. Sparrow [Sparrow, A.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2009-10-11T00:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 40: Ara’s Choice

Ara stared, dumbfounded, as Canu charged the Cuerti with nothing but a rotten stick. He struggled against the Cuerti’s blade with an unwieldy length of twisted metal, using both ends to bat away thrusts, but his sluggish parries barely met the quicker saber in time. It seemed inevitable that one of his defenses would arrive too late.

Ara danced at the edge of the skirmish, just beyond the saber’s reach. “Please! We can talk,” she pleaded in Venep’o.

“Too late for talk,” spat the Cuerti. He lunged at Canu, who dodged aside, but stumbled to one knee. The Cuerti whirled and swung his blade in a wide arc that would have decapitated Canu had he not regained his feet and backpedaled. Canu stood one slash away from death. Soon it would be her alone against the Cuerti.

The injured militia man attempted to rise to Canu’s aid, but crumpled with a groan. His short sword clattered against the pebbles. Ara dashed over, snatched up the blade and waited for an opening.

Canu slammed one end of the rod against his opponent’s midriff, but the Cuerti caught it with the base of his blade and forced it aside. The rod slipped from Canu’s grasp. As the Cuerti moved in for the kill, Ara flashed in from behind and plunged the sword up under the Cuerti’s ribs, feeling the blade vibrate as it grooved his bones. The Cuerti gasped and fell, the tip of his saber catching in the earth and springing away with the tinkle of fine steel. The blade had cleaved his heart. In seconds, he became more meat than man.

Canu knelt in the gravel, eyes wide, panting. “Thank you,” he said. “I think … I might have lost.”

“You think?” Ara went over and knelt by the militia man. His face looked ashen, his lips chalky from loss of blood. She examined the swamp of gore that soaked his abdomen. The crossbow bolt had passed straight through his vital organs. What blood hadn’t spilled had leaked inside, rendering his middle turgid and tender. His eyes remained clear, but they looked puzzled to see her.

Canu staggered over. “Pana, my friend, what have they done to you?”

“Are the Crasacs … all dead?” said Pana, softly.

“Crasacs?” said Canu. “Do you mean Cuerti?” Canu glanced at Ara, but she could only shrug.

“Crasacs,” said Pana. “More wait across the portal. Get the stone. Destroy it now.”

Canu looked about the clearing. “I … I don’t know where it is.”

“The Initiate,” said Pana. “He prayed to it … all night. Get it. I want to see it gone. Before I go.”

Ara touched his hand. “I can’t allow that,” she whispered. “The stone must be preserved.”

Canu pulled away from her and went over to where the Initiate lay curled on his side. His eyelids flickered but his eyes no longer seemed to gaze on the world of the living. The stone rested on a small square of gilded cloth beside him.

Ara rose and hustled after him, extending Pana’s sword. “Leave it be, Canu.

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