Artesans of Albia: 01 - King's Envoy Read Online Free Page B

the huntsmen. Coupled with the strange eager light in his opponent’s eyes, these signs should have warned Taran that something was amiss. Yet it had passed him by and this new failure only increased his frustration.
     
Enraged by the deception, Taran attacked with a burst of vicious strokes. The noble gave way before him but there was a knowing look in his eye. Now Taran understood that he had planned this all along. He had never intended to honor the contract. With no witnesses to speak for him, Taran was totally unprotected. He would have cursed himself savagely if only he’d had the strength.
     
He heard a strident call as someone among the huntsmen yelled, “Use your own powers. He’s broken the rules, after all.”
     
Alone and without an ally, Taran went cold, realizing the full extent of his peril. A surge of righteous rage flooded his soul. He might have been careless and foolish in allowing his opponent to accuse him, but he wasn’t the one who had broken the codes.
     
The noble’s treachery meant Taran was free to use his powers. He did so and soon his opponent, in response to the call, formed a ball of Earth element, which he flung at Taran’s feet. Too slow to counter it, Taran stumbled. Now they were fighting on two levels. This was highly dangerous as it was impossible to concentrate on sword play while using an Artesan’s skills.
     
Icy fear made Taran shiver. This bout would end in his death unless he could defeat the noble.
     
Exhausted though he was, he redoubled his efforts.
     

     
Sonten moved stealthily, hoping neither fighter would notice his approach. He’d felt relief on sensing Jaskin’s drain of his opponent’s strength but it turned to rage when the Albian failed to succumb. Fearful for his nephew’s safety, the General needed Jaskin to end this duel. He watched closely and eventually saw his chance. As Jaskin drove his Albian opponent backwards with a succession of powerful lunges, Sonten cried, “Use the Staff, boy.”
He tossed the weapon across the beaten earth.
     

     
Taran was distracted as the Staff skidded to his opponent’s feet. The noble snatched it up and it flared blindingly, blue and green light rippling down its length. He drove at Taran with his sword but even as he parried the blows, Taran felt his opponent calling up power. He stared in shock—the Staff’s flickering tip was pointing at his heaving chest.
A killing bolt of pure elemental energy flashed from the Staff. With a wide-eyed look of horror, totally unnerved by this unforeseen event, Taran only just managed to twist sideways. He was showered with dirt as a sizzling bolt of Earth power pulverized a rock behind him.
     
Fear and anger goaded Taran and he leaped at his opponent, lunging into broadsword strokes he had learned from an itinerant swordmaster years ago. The noble had obviously expected Taran to be stunned into inaction. Taran rained blows onto his blade, striking viciously, trying to keep him off balance. There was a discordant clang and Taran’s sword arm went numb. The noble roared a curse as his sword was sent spinning from his hand.
     
“Yield,” panted Taran but his opponent didn’t falter. Raising the Staff, he attacked Taran with renewed ferocity. Huge bolts of Earth energy shot from its tip, forcing the exhausted Journeyman to deflect them.
     
Taran’s powers were stretched far beyond their straining limits. Terrified, he only had one choice and he grabbed it, throwing all his remaining metaforce into one vast Earth shift. The ground bucked beneath his opponent’s feet, nearly toppling him, and Taran rushed him. Ignoring the Staff’s awful power, he brought his sword around in a powerful backhanded sweep. The noble’s head suddenly dangled from a half-severed neck.
     
The body collapsed, spraying blood, and the deadly Staff fell at Taran’s feet. Spattered with red, still gripped by terror, he stood panting heavily. Trembling, he leaned on his sword.
     
There was