Blood of Requiem (Song of Dragons, Book 1)

43. BENEDICTUS

Dies Irae screamed.

Benedictus tossed Volucris off him. The griffin and Dies Irae tumbled to the ground.

Suddenly Benedictus could see the battle again. Thousands of griffins and salvanae howled around him, staring at him and the fallen Dies Irae. Thousands more lay dead or dying upon the ground. The skeletons of the war ten years ago were red with fresh blood and fire. Below, Dies Irae still lived. He pushed himself off Volucris.

Benedictus landed before his brother and blew fire. Dies Irae ran through the flames, swinging his mace. The mace slammed into Benedictus's leg, so hard it nearly broke his bone. Benedictus kicked his brother, knocked him down, and placed a foot upon him. The tyrant struggled, but could not free himself.

The battle froze around them.

Everyone watched silently: salvanae, griffins, men, Vir Requis. The only sounds now were the moans of the dying, the wind and rain, and the fire.

"So we end up here," Benedictus said to his brother, "the same as we were. This is how you lay ten years ago. On your back in this field. Me with my claws against you."

Dies Irae's visor had been knocked back, revealing his face. Blood trickled from his lip, and ash covered his skin. He spat out a tooth, then laughed with blood in his mouth. "You're a coward."

Benedictus growled. "And you're a dead man."

Dies Irae shook his head. "No, Benedictus. You will not crush me to death. I know you. I unchained you; I let you fight me to the death. You want to kill me? Do it as a man, not a lizard. Shift, Benedictus. Face me as a man, or forever be known as a coward."

Growling, Benedictus kicked Dies Irae aside, then shifted into human form.

"Swords!" Dies Irae cried. Two soldiers leaped off their griffins and ran forward. They gave one sword to Dies Irae, the other to Benedictus.

Benedictus drew the blade. It was heavy, well balanced, with a grip wrapped in leather. A good sword.

Dies Irae drew his own blade and swiped it, testing it. It whistled.

"Father!" came an anguished cry above. Benedictus looked up, and his heart leaped. Agnus Dei! Agnus Dei flew there! And Kyrie flew by her.

"Agn—" he began, but then she screamed. Benedictus looked back down to see Dies Irae lunging at him.

Dies Irae's sword flew. Benedictus parried. The blades clanged and raised sparks.

The blades drew apart, clanged again. Around them the fires burned, the armies watched, the winds howled, and the rain fell. Benedictus had not dueled with blades for years, not since Requiem had fallen. His shoulders ached, his wounds burned, and he felt sluggish as he swung his blade.

Dies Irae thrust his sword, and Benedictus grunted as he parried. Dies Irae thrust again. Benedictus parried again, but barely. His boot slipped, and he fell to one knee.

The armies gasped. Agnus Dei screamed.

Dies Irae's blade came swinging down, reflecting the fires. Benedictus parried and punched, hitting Dies Irae's helmet. His knuckles ached; he might have broken them. Dies Irae fell into the mud. Benedictus leaped up and swung his sword.

His blade hit Dies Irae's helmet.

Dies Irae, grinning with blood in his mouth, pushed himself up and swung his sword.

Benedictus blocked, thrust, and hit Dies Irae's breastplate. His blow sent jewels flying, but could not break the steel. Dies Irae thrust, and his blade sliced Benedictus's arm. Blood flew, and Agnus Dei screamed again.