'What's the Zephyr?' Asenka asked, but the other three were already running again, and she hurried to keep up with them.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Diran watched as Bruk picked up the dagger and rose to his feet. The boy raised his hands and took a step backward.
'But I spared your life!'
'You're a fool,' the sea raider said as he slowly advanced. 'You should've slit my throat from ear to ear and laughed as my life's blood splashed onto the floor.' He smiled. 'That's what I would've done.'
Bruk lunged at Diran with the dagger, but the man's balance was off, making Diran wonder just how long the Brotherhood of the Blade had held him captive and how often he'd been fed during that time. Bruk listed to the left, and his legs wobbled as if they were having a hard time supporting his weight. Diran lashed out with a foot and kicked Bruk's left leg out from under him, causing the sea raider to fall to the floor. Bruk hadn't completely forgotten his fighting skills, though, and managed to keep hold of the dagger and avoid skewering himself with it as he hit.
Bruk glared at Diran, baring his teeth as if he were a wild animal. Appropriate, Diran thought, considering what the bastard had done to his parents.
'Just for that, I'll take my time gutting you, boy.' Bruk began to pull himself up on his feet.
Diran remembered something his father had told him-
Sometimes when you're out on the water, everything will seem calm one moment, and then a storm will blow up out of nowhere. It's times like those when you most need to keep your wits about you. Giving in to fear is the fastest way to find yourself at the bottom of the Lhazaar.
Diran forced himself to remain calm and consider his options, such as they were. He knew there was no point trying to reach either door. Even if they were unlocked, which he very much doubted, surely some of the older acolytes-such as the ones who'd brought Bruk in-were waiting on the other side to prevent him from escaping. He also knew that there was no point in trying to appeal to Cathmore's sympathies, for the elder assassin had none. The only resources available to him were what lay inside the weapons chest… and in the box Cathmore held in his hands.
Diran ran toward Cathmore just as Bruk got to his feet and slashed out with the dagger. Diran heard the hiss of the blade parting air behind him and felt the breeze of its passage on the back of his neck. Bruk had missed, but not by much. As Diran approached Cathmore, the assassin stood motionless, though his gaze was riveted on Diran, almost as if he were studying the boy and assessing his actions.
Diran reached into the box and grabbed several vials at random. He turned to see Bruk charging, eyes blazing with anger, dagger raised for a killing strike.
Diran hurled the vials at Bruk's face.
Without thinking, Bruk lashed out with the dagger to protect himself, and the blade struck several of the vials. Glass shattered, liquid splattered-some of it onto Bruk's face and into his eyes. The other vials either missed him or bounced off his chest to burst apart harmlessly against the floor, but the poison that Bruk's blow had released was more than sufficient.
The sea raider screamed, dropped the dagger, and clapped his hands to his face. The skin around his eyes, nose, and mouth turned greenish-black and began to swell. He collapsed onto his side, his body spasming wildly, as if the muscles were tearing free from his skeleton. Then Bruk made a strangled gurling noise deep in his throat, stiffened once, and went limp. The poison had finished doing its work.
Diran looked at the corpse of the man who was responsible for the deaths of his parents, and though he was shamed by it, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction mingled with relief.
I hope you can rest easier now, Mother and Father.
'Well done, lad.'
Diran turned to Cathmore and was surprised to see the assassin grinning.
'You didn't have the training to fight Bruk hand to hand, so you used the only weapon that would even the odds between you.' Cathmore's grin took on a hard edge. 'That's another reason I favor poison: it doesn't matter how powerful or skilled its victims are. All must bow before its power.'
Diran didn't respond. Instead he walked over to Bruk and knelt at the sea raider's side. He retrieved the dagger Bruk had dropped and rubbed its blade in a puddle of poison created when one of the vials that the sea raider had missed had fallen to the floor, then he spun, rising to his feet as he did so, and hurled the dagger at Cathmore. The blade flew straight and true and embedded itself in the poison-master's left shoulder. Cathmore's eyes widened in surprise and he dropped the box holding the remaining poisons. It crashed onto the floor, spilling the rest of its contents in a mess of broken glass and foul-smelling liquid.
Blood welled forth from the wound and Cathmore reached up with a trembling hand, as if he intended to grasp the hilt and pull the blade free. Then he drew in a shuddering breath, his eyes rolled white, and he fell to the floor and lay still.
Diran stepped over to Cathmore's body and looked down upon it, a grim smile spreading across his face. 'I might not have the skill to fight someone like Bruk, but my father taught me how to use a knife. He said it was a good weapon for a fisherman to have. It was small enough to wield in tight quarters and you could always use it to gut fish if necessary.'
Cathmore's eyes moved to focus on Diran. 'Your father was a wise man.'
Diran took several frightened steps backward as Cathmore sat up.
'I applaud your ingenuity and your ruthlessness,' the master assassin said, 'but did you truly think that I wouldn't have long ago made myself immune to my own poisons? Even if your dagger strike itself had killed me, Emon would've simply paid to have me resurrected, though my dear half-brother would undoubtedly insist I pay him back. Still, Diran Bastiaan, I am impressed. You alone of all the children I have taught have managed to come this close to killing me.' He chuckled, then drew in a hiss of air. 'It hurts like blazes, though.' He held out his right hand. 'Help me up and we'll see about getting me to a healer, eh?'
Diran looked at Cathmore's hand for a moment before finally taking it and steadying the man as he rose to his feet.
Ghaji swung his axe at Chagai's unprotected neck. Orc necks were thick, their heads set close to their broad shoulders, so it wasn't the easiest target to hit. That didn't matter since Ghaji didn't expect his strike to connect.
Sure enough, Chagai pulled away and brought his broadsword up to defect Ghaji's blow, but at the last instant, Ghaji turned his axe downward, angled his shoulder toward Chagai, and slammed into the orc leader. Pain exploded through Ghaji's right shoulder all the way down his arm as he hit Chagai's breastplate, but the maneuver had the intended effect of throwing Chagai off balance. With his left hand Ghaji grabbed Chagai's sword arm by the wrist and twisted as hard as he could. The sound of snapping bone cut through the air, followed instantly by Chagai's agonized cry. His hand went limp and the broadsword slipped from his useless fingers.
A broken wrist wasn't enough to stop an orc warrior, though. Chagai bared his teeth and lunged, sinking them into Ghaji's right shoulder-the one already bruised and battered from his collision with Chagai's breastplate. Ghaji's hide was tougher than a human's but not as tough as a full orc's, and Chagai's teeth sliced into Ghaji's flesh as easily as a white-hot knife through butter. Now it was Ghaji's turn to bellow in pain.
He felt hot blood gush from his wound and splatter onto his chest. The agony was so intense that he thought for a moment that he might lose consciousness. Though he might be only half-orc, he was all warrior, so he fought to ignore the pain. He tossed his axe from his right hand to his left, then swung the butt-end of the weapon upward and smashed the handle into Chagai's right temple. The blow jarred Chagai's head, causing the teeth embedded into Ghaji's shoulder to jerk violently and send a fresh wave of agony surging though the half-orc's arm. He let out another bellow of pain, but he refused to yield. He hit Chagai in the head once, twice, three times more.
Chagai's eyes went wide, and Ghaji felt a soft chuff of air escape the orc's mouth and waft across his shoulder wound. Then Chagai collapsed, and since his teeth were still stuck in Ghaji's shoulder, the half-orc was pulled down with his foe. As they hit, Chagai's teeth tore free from Ghaji, causing pain so intense that Ghaji blacked
