Rollar too managed to stagger to his feet, but it looked like the impact had knocked the wind out of him, and he was swaying unsteadily. Between us, Fang and the huge bear were circling each other, growling, each waiting for the other to strike.
“Let’s do this,” I hissed.
Chapter Sixteen
I commanded Fang to pounce. As he sprang onto the bear, I charged forward, somersaulting over the sudden tornado of snarling scales, claws, fur, and jaws as the two huge beasts rolled and kicked and slashed and bit at each other in a vicious struggle. I landed and again drew from the power of my skeletal warriors. An overwhelming tide of energy entered me, and I channeled it into the kusarigama’s bone-chain.
I sprinted straight at Rollar and whipped the chain in a whistling arc at his head. Moving with surprising speed, he ducked under it and darted forward, slashing the hammer at me in a massive uppercut of a blow. I skidded to a halt and leaned back, allowing the hammer to slice through the air mere inches from my chin before I lashed the kusarigama chain in a sharp downward diagonal motion, bringing it from behind Rollar’s shoulder and whipping it across his back.
It cracked like a whip against his bearskin cloak. The power channeled by the blade ripped the garment in half and put a dent the size of an ogre’s footprint in the back of his breastplate. The force of it also flung him forward. I met his stumble with a flying, spinning back kick that crashed into the side of his jaw and sent him staggering sideways, stunned and almost knocked out.
He was a tough bastard though, and before I could dart in and finish him, he flung the hammer at me. It came hurtling in spinning circles through the air, a massive steel projectile that sent out arcs of lightning. I swiveled on my heel and pivoted my body to the side, and the huge hammer scythed through the air inches from me and carried on to demolish a skeletal warrior a few yards behind me. Lightning chained from the skeleton to at least five others, electrifying them and turning their bones to dust.
Rollar drew a broadsword from a scabbard on his hip. Still half-dazed, he settled into a swordsman’s stance. In response, I drew Grave Oath from its sheath and prepared to attack.
This fucker’s soul was mine.
We circled each other for a few moments before I dashed in for an attack. Rollar hacked at me to try to keep me back, but I parried the blow as I bypassed his guard. I slashed with Grave Oath, but he blocked it with a quick swipe of his sword.
I jumped back as he aimed a horizontal cut at me. “One taste of your blood from my dagger, and your soul is mine.”
“You don’t understand what you’re doing, Soultaker,” he growled, breathing hard. “We’re fighting a common enemy, yet you’re trying to kill me!”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I’ve seen what your men have done. Trust me, you and I are not on the same team. Not even close.”
He raised his broadsword into a low guard to try to prevent me from darting in.
“I told you earlier,” he gasped, “that I wanted to thank you for killing my men. The ones who have been looting and raping and pillaging are deserters. I would have executed them myself if I’d been able to catch them.”
“Bullshit,” I said. “Desperate lies from a man who knows he’s about to die.”
I charged in again, and we exchanged a flurry of rapid blows. But I wasn’t trying to kill him anymore. He was slowing down, and I would have easily been able to take advantage, but part of me didn’t want Grave Oath to cut him. A single slice would have torn his soul from his body and turned him into a shriveled husk. But part of me believed him. Was he truly not responsible for those assholes who had pillaged the village?
“The Blood God needs no allies when his enemies fight among themselves like this,” Roller muttered, panting. “Go on then, Soultaker, kill me. Kill me and help the Blood God grow stronger.”
That made me pause.
“The Blood God? What do you know about the Blood God, Rollar?” I asked as we circled each other.
“Enough to know that he is the greatest threat to Prand in all of remembered history,” Rollar gasped. “A foul, corrupt bishop named Nabu has been sacrificing virgins to him. He is but one of a growing number of the Blood God’s dark servants.”
“I killed Nabu,” I said. “And I know who else serves the Blood God. And he’s next on my list.”
“Of course, your uncle. For your sake, Soultaker, I hope that you’ve become Fated. If you haven’t, your head will surely join the many others in the crypts of Castle Brakith. He has grown powerful, far more powerful than Nabu ever was.”
Rollar, it seemed, knew a lot more than I could have guessed. And, bizarrely enough, it appeared that we were, as he claimed, fighting against a common enemy.
“Why have so many of your troops deserted you if you’re such a good guy, Rollar? Answer me that.” I adjusted my stance so that I showed I was ready to talk but that I would still stab him if he made a move to attack.
“Because I’m a tightwad and a stickler for discipline. Nobody gets more pay than I promised at the beginning, and I do not permit looting and pillaging. Some of the men—the cowards, the greedy, evil, sniveling cowards—decided that this wasn’t what they had signed up for and went their own way. They sacked, looted, raped, murdered, and pillaged. Those that I could catch, I hanged, but many escaped from me. I could not veer too far from the purpose of my mission to chase after them. Time is running short. Very short. The more we waste, the stronger the
