Part 1: Showdown at Castle Djarrakh

 

"We expected you on the plains," Vasdan intoned.

"Your expectations for us mean nothing, traitor," said the First.

"Your words are meaningless, as was your vow," said the Second.

"We serve the Castellan," said the Third, as he unsheathed two enormous hammers from the boiled leather frogges strapped across his back.

Vasdan considered each in turn, and strengthened his grip on his longsword. He knew it would come to this, when he began his coup against the castellan. Yet even now, when  face to face with the Three Guardians of Djarrakh, he became nervous. So much blood had already been spilled; how many of his companions would walk away from the legendary defenders of the castle, honour bound to its lord? It was as if they sensed his thoughts. The members of Vasdan's party moved forward on his flanks, eight in all. They seemed confident, but they did not know the Three as Vasdan did.

"Lay down your weapons and submit to the Castellan," said the Second.

"We shall make your death as honourable as a traitor deserves," said the Third.

"Bend your knee," said the First.

Vasdan lurched forward suddenly and windmilled his longsword toward the towering krokani in the center of the Three. The First easily sidestepped the blow, allowed Vasdan to stumble by, and extracted his own hammers from long frogges forged of stretched aslaran hide. He whirled around, struck out at the back of Vasdan's leg as he passed, and knocked him forcefully to the ground. The members of Vasdan's party sprang forward with a blood curdling yell as their leader fell. They hefted all manner of weapon over their heads: one a bardiche, one a claymore, several with hammers themselves, axes, longswords, and rapiers- all oiled with sharpness, but still bloodied from a long day of battle.

Mikanch, a middle-aged knight said to be a descendant of the House of Paavik, parried a blow from the Second. His battle stance allowed him to avoid a second thrust, yet even as he recovered to send a riposte down upon the Second's head, he found his right leg swept out from under him by the Third. Mikanch heard a sickening crunch as he went down, and looked upon his mangled leg, unable to stand. He saw a shadow pass overhead, and it was as if the whole world had begun to slow around him. It had gone deathly quiet, almost peaceful. Mikanch looked up from beneath the caged visor of his helm, and saw the twin hammers plummeting toward either side of his head. He closed his eye.

There was a terrible clang and mashing sound when Vasdan rose to his feet, and a sickness rose up in his stomach as if he had drank curdled milk. The figure on the ground was nearly unrecognizable, save for his plate armour, which Vasdan knew belonged to Mikanch. There was little left of his friends face, much less his head. The battle around him moved at a ferocious pace, the Three parrying, dodging, and riposting against all sorts of blows, working in tandem as though both their bodies and minds were connected. In terror, Vasdan considered that he should have brought more men, but his fear also fueled his strength. 

Four huge bodies finally wrestled the Third to go the ground, yet even then one fell away as the others hit soil, crying out as his skull had been fractured by a deft blow of the Third's warhammer. There was a shower of crimson blood as Vasdan's men brought steel to the Third's throat, and the parched earth soaked it up hungrily; however, two of his other companions were rewarded for their brief victory by their heads being smashed into a bloody pulp by the furious Second, who brought swift vengeance upon the Third's killers.

Vasdan counted his losses. Mikanch, Adgori, and Gavtr were certainly dead; Veniail did not move, face down in the dirt. Two of his knights were locked in battle with the First, while another, Adel, backed away from the Second, who sneered and goaded with each thrust that was barely parried or dodged. "Has it come down to this, so quickly?" he despaired. Yet there was no time to dwell on his thoughts, for just then another clang of steel rang out and Adel stumbled backwards off his feet, unable to block another blow. The Second stood triumphantly over him, hammer bearing down, when Vasdan lunged. He plunged his blade straight through the small of the Second's back, and heaved with all his might, dragging it around the side of the stunned krokani to spill his intestines out in the dirt around him. A shower of blood drenched Adel, as well as Vasdan, who jerked his blade free with a great effort.

The two fighting the First cautiously disengaged, and stood beside Adel and Vasdan once more.

"I shall ask you to bend the knee now, First," whispered Vasdan, as he turned on his heel to face the last remaining Guardian. He lifted Adel off the ground, dusting the young krokani off.

"I shall not kneel to traitors," said the First.

"It is over, no more blood need be spilled. I have won. Djarrahk is mine. Not even the First of the Guardians of Djarrahk can stand against four knights on his own. Swear your allegiance to me."

Vasdan, Adel, Vastry, and Ardan remained. They separated, and began to circle around the waiting First. His large, singular eye sparkled with amusement. The First twirled his twin hammers lazily in each hand, as though this was nothing more than an exercise in the practice yard. His weapons alone were legendary; one, with cracks and channels through which ran a fiery magma, and the second, perpetually crackling and spitting in the air with arcs of electricity, like a thunderstorm contained within steel.

The First's calm unnerved Vasdan. And then the First was upon him, moving with the sinuous grace of a predator, so fast that Vasdan could not help but be enthralled by his ability. Vasdan barely had time to raise his longsword in defense, but even as he did, both hammers ploughed into both sword and plate together. Vasdan fell immediately to his knees, and a great stream of blood came pouring from his mouth as he hacked and coughed. He felt unbalanced, lightheaded, but he returned, tottering, to his feet.

Adel moved next, a feint to draw the First's attention. Under his arm, and to the left, came Vastry, sweeping his greataxe in an underhanded arc toward the First's stomach. This was parried, and for his efforts Vastry received the head of the fiery hammer straight into his chest, which broke and sent him sprawling to the ground, stunned. Adel whirled around to deliver his own blow, but the First deftly side-stepped it and brought the lightning hammer down upon his head, breaking his nose and leaving a tremendous dent in his helm. Vasdan swept his longsword low across the ground, aiming for the back of the First's leg, yet this, too, was parried, and the First took several steps forward, then whirled around to face his foes once more, unsmiling. 

"You are not Castellan, nor will you be as long as I walk this earth, traitor. Your insurrection is at an end."

 

To be continued...