Ahlarkham’s problems. He was a menace, a force of evil that must be stopped at all costs. But in person, old “Firefist,” as he was sometimes called, was just a man.
“I know who you are,” said Liam, refusing to take the baron’s hand.
Purdun smiled. “And I know who you are, Liam of Duhlnarim.”
Liam nodded. “I suppose you do.” He shook his shackles without lifting them into view. The chain made a satisfying clink.
The smile drained from Purdun’s face, and he snapped his fingers. One of the cloaked guards suddenly came to life, stepping out from behind a bookshelf. As he did, he seemed to grow and grow. The cloak’s hem lifted from the floor, and the man’s legs extended beneath. What had appeared to Liam upon first inspection as a floor-length robe in fact only came down to the guard’s knees.
At his full height, the man (though Liam doubted this was a man, never had he seen anyone so massive) needed to duck his head to avoid hitting it on the ceiling. His bulk had been concealed behind the bookcase, but out here in the open, Liam could see that this was no ordinary bodyguard. Easily nine feet tall, the soldier had arms as big around as Liam’s middle. His face was mostly concealed. Only a few glimpses of pale gray skin showed through the golden mask attached to his helm.
This enormous creature crossed the room toward Liam, carrying his massive frame with the lithe grace of a predatory cat. Despite his size, Liam could tell this guard had some speed.
As he approached, Liam took a step back. Stopping beside the two men, the bodyguard produced a small silver key and handed it to the baron.
Purdun took the key from the guard. “I also know about your ambush of my carriage several days ago.”
Anger flared inside Liam. He could see the soldiers pouring out of the doors, the guardsmen surrounding him and his brother, and Ryder dropping to his knees after being slashed across the gut.
“Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“Now, now,” said Purdun, trying to smother a self-satisfied smile, “I only did to you what you were planning to do to me. You were outsmarted and beaten in a fair fight. Don’t be a sore loser.”
Liam lashed out, grabbing for the baron’s shirt. “You killed my brother.”
Purdun’s eyes went wide, and he lunged back. Reaching for his hip, his hand grasped at something Liam couldn’t see. One moment, the baron was unarmed. The next, he stood on guard, a rapier materializing in his hand as if out of thin air.
The pain of losing his brother drove Liam forward. In a blink he sidestepped and grabbed hold of the bell of Purdun’s blade. Knocking it aside, he lunged for the baron’s throat. “I’ll get”
His words were cut off when his feet left the ground. The baron’s massive bodyguard grabbed Liam by the back of the vest, wrenched his hands off Purdun’s neck, and lifted him in the air. Liam was helpless, dangling a gnome’s height above the floor like a baby kitten.
Purdun stood several steps away, his sword pointed at Liam. His carefully coifed hair hung now over one eye. His shirt sat cockeyed on his chest, crumpled at the neck where Liam had grabbed hold.
The baron pushed his hair back out of his face. “I’d rather you didn’t do that again.”
Liam’s arms and legs swung freely. He craned his neck to look back at the gray-skinned creature. The bodyguard held him off the floor with only one arm and apparently little effort.
Liam looked back at the baron. “Or what?”
Purdun took a deep breath, looking a little exacerbated. Then his face broke into a smile, and he laughed.
“I like your spirit.” He turned his rapier around and slipped the tip back toward his belt as if he were placing it into a sheath. The blade disappeared slowly, looking as if it were being swallowed by an invisible snake. When the hilt reached his hip, it too vanished, and the baron’s fencing belt once again appeared to be conspicuously empty of
“I know who you are,” said Liam, refusing to take the baron’s hand.
Purdun smiled. “And I know who you are, Liam of Duhlnarim.”
Liam nodded. “I suppose you do.” He shook his shackles without lifting them into view. The chain made a satisfying clink.
The smile drained from Purdun’s face, and he snapped his fingers. One of the cloaked guards suddenly came to life, stepping out from behind a bookshelf. As he did, he seemed to grow and grow. The cloak’s hem lifted from the floor, and the man’s legs extended beneath. What had appeared to Liam upon first inspection as a floor-length robe in fact only came down to the guard’s knees.
At his full height, the man (though Liam doubted this was a man, never had he seen anyone so massive) needed to duck his head to avoid hitting it on the ceiling. His bulk had been concealed behind the bookcase, but out here in the open, Liam could see that this was no ordinary bodyguard. Easily nine feet tall, the soldier had arms as big around as Liam’s middle. His face was mostly concealed. Only a few glimpses of pale gray skin showed through the golden mask attached to his helm.
This enormous creature crossed the room toward Liam, carrying his massive frame with the lithe grace of a predatory cat. Despite his size, Liam could tell this guard had some speed.
As he approached, Liam took a step back. Stopping beside the two men, the bodyguard produced a small silver key and handed it to the baron.
Purdun took the key from the guard. “I also know about your ambush of my carriage several days ago.”
Anger flared inside Liam. He could see the soldiers pouring out of the doors, the guardsmen surrounding him and his brother, and Ryder dropping to his knees after being slashed across the gut.
“Tell me something I don’t already know.”
“Now, now,” said Purdun, trying to smother a self-satisfied smile, “I only did to you what you were planning to do to me. You were outsmarted and beaten in a fair fight. Don’t be a sore loser.”
Liam lashed out, grabbing for the baron’s shirt. “You killed my brother.”
Purdun’s eyes went wide, and he lunged back. Reaching for his hip, his hand grasped at something Liam couldn’t see. One moment, the baron was unarmed. The next, he stood on guard, a rapier materializing in his hand as if out of thin air.
The pain of losing his brother drove Liam forward. In a blink he sidestepped and grabbed hold of the bell of Purdun’s blade. Knocking it aside, he lunged for the baron’s throat. “I’ll get”
His words were cut off when his feet left the ground. The baron’s massive bodyguard grabbed Liam by the back of the vest, wrenched his hands off Purdun’s neck, and lifted him in the air. Liam was helpless, dangling a gnome’s height above the floor like a baby kitten.
Purdun stood several steps away, his sword pointed at Liam. His carefully coifed hair hung now over one eye. His shirt sat cockeyed on his chest, crumpled at the neck where Liam had grabbed hold.
The baron pushed his hair back out of his face. “I’d rather you didn’t do that again.”
Liam’s arms and legs swung freely. He craned his neck to look back at the gray-skinned creature. The bodyguard held him off the floor with only one arm and apparently little effort.
Liam looked back at the baron. “Or what?”
Purdun took a deep breath, looking a little exacerbated. Then his face broke into a smile, and he laughed.
“I like your spirit.” He turned his rapier around and slipped the tip back toward his belt as if he were placing it into a sheath. The blade disappeared slowly, looking as if it were being swallowed by an invisible snake. When the hilt reached his hip, it too vanished, and the baron’s fencing belt once again appeared to be conspicuously empty of
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