The big Reaver took another staggered step back as Mordecai sprinted towards him, the sword of fire held low and ready for first strike.
"B-by the Dark Father!" he managed. Then he was screaming in agony as the sword of fire slashed through his abdomen, nearly slicing him in half in the space of an eyeblink. He fell to the right as Mordecai moved smoothly past him, not slowed an iota by his blade's lethal cut.
Darting between the tents in barely controlled haste, Mordecai's eyes scanned back and forth as he searched for more Reavers to kill. Then they were charging out of nowhere, howling alien-sounding curses as they attacked, swords held high.
In the blink of an eye, battle became dance as Mordecai found himself flowing through a series of intricate moves, each incredibly graceful and ultimately lethal. The blade of fire met blades of tempered steel in loud showers of sparks before the metal swords were falling away, their wielders suffering from deadly cuts to the head and body. And where the sword couldn't strike, feet and hand hammered out with equally deadly force, crushing and maiming with each blow.
Until Mordecai found himself surrounded by a heap of dead, the Reavers who had thrown themselves recklessly at the determined young man easily cut down by the fiery blade and its wielder's grim determination.
"Bravo," a low, powerful voice rumbled from behind the coiled young man.
An oath on his lips for letting an enemy sneak up behind him, Mordecai whirled around the sword of fire held in both hands ready. Only to find a trio of very large men, dressed all in black and holding swords of fire in their own fists. The speaker was the largest of the three, a mountain of a man, all brooding intensity and dark power as he stared at Mordecai from hooded eyes.
Mordecai brought his own look of intensity to bear on the man just as he smiled thinly.
"You have a good hand with the fire sword," the big man rumbled. "Considering I mortally wounded you this morning, Caiphus, I'd say the god fire has made its presence known in you."
"Vestrun," Mordecai ground out between clenched teeth, his face a rictus of rage. "You're the next to die, master of the Reavers!"
But before Mordecai could advance, both hands wrapped so tightly around the fire sword's hilt that they were white knuckled, Vestrun threw up a forestalling hand.
"As much as I would enjoy engaging a completely enraged knight-protector in the prime of the god fire's possession, I'm afraid I must decline, dear Caiphus." The big man's smile grew slightly. "You see, though you may have thrown your own rules of engagement out of the window in your holy and righteous anger to assault our camp, I'm still adhering to the rules and conditions of Jorik's tournament. As is proper."
Instead of letting the anger surging inside him speak, to berate the big man about being proper and rules of engagement as he knew from Caiphus' memories that it was nothing but hypocritical prattle, Mordecai's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he fell silent. Silent but for only a moment, however.
"So, Vestrun, master of the Reavers, let me see if I understand you correctly." With a hiss, the fire sword in his fist disappeared, leaving behind only a brightly glowing Quaydrim crystal, ready to ignite again if the need suddenly arose.
"You're saying that you won't engage me here, in the midst of your power and in open combat. You will, however, accept my challenge and face me on the tournament grounds, as per Jorik's rules of engagement."
It was Vestrun's turn to become thoughtful as he considered what was obviously intelligent and sound reasoning. That coming from a knight-protector that was little more than a boy, plucked from some northern farm on their way down to Jorik's summoning. A boy that shouldn't have the capacity to think in that fashion. Could the god fire have changed him so much, to have given him the ability of higher thinking?
"Yes," Vestrun said finally after a long pause as his leftenants shifted uneasily. "That is exactly what I'm saying. If you manage to win your way through my underlings in single combat, you will have the right to face me directly in the tournament. And, if you defeat me there, my Reavers will withdraw from this place and give the borderlands peace for a time."
"An interesting proposal," Mordecai swiftly countered almost before Vestrun's words were done echoing in the air. "If I slaughter your underlings, I win the right to face you?" He smiled ferally. "Is that how you managed to face me this morning? By killing all those beneath me in skill and power? Yet, I was the least of the knight-protectors before the god fire came upon me. And you faced me first this morning."
Mordecai carefully folded his arms over his chest, knowing that Caiphus was not half the size of these men, unlike his true body lost to him now in the eddies of time. Yet he smiled as he watched expressions of first uncertainty then amazement mixed with fear move over all three faces. Only Vestrun managed to finally control that expression, replacing it with one of complete and careful blankness.
"It seems that you walk a very fine line of hypocrisy, Reaver. You faced me first this morning because you had nothing to fear from me. Now, when abruptly you fear that I may wrest from you your dark soul by slaying the vessel that protects it, you fling the rules of Jorik's tournament handily about." His left eyebrow slowly rose as he watched Vestrun's face harden despite the Reaver's attempt to control himself and his emotions.
"How curious!"
"Curious?" Vestrun hissed tightly, no longer able to control himself as open anger and frustration made its way across his sharply chiseled features. "You cut your way in my camp without as much as a 'by your leave' and you challenge my desire to adhere to the rules of the tournament by questioning my honor and integrity?"
The last words were almost spit out with the big man's anger, which was quickly escalating to full rage. An anger that, now that they were once again feeding off their master's emotions, the two leftenants also began to show as their hands began to shift anxiously on the hilts of their weapons. As if they were barely managing to restrain themselves from hurling their bodies and blades at the smiling Mordecai.
Mordecai couldn't help but openly grin at that, further infuriating his unwilling hosts. It certainly didn't much to get these guys pissed off, that's for sure. A piece of knowledge that he was equally sure would come useful in the very near future. For now, time to seal the deal.
"That's exactly what I find most curious, Vestrun. For it seems you have no honor and integrity! But, regardless, I thank you for reminding me about my own." He pressed the hilt of the fire sword against his belt as the three Reavers silently snarled at him.
"And so, here is my compromise: indeed I will face you in the tournament, winning the right by cutting my way through your lessors. But I won't wait until the morrow to see such an event begin. It's currently the eleventh hour of the morning, nearly an hour before noon. I'll give you until the first hour past midday to assemble your forces and send them to meet me on the tournament grounds. Then and there will I begin my quest to end your life."
Mordecai's smile abruptly became cold and hard as stone.
"Failing to do so will result in a second assault on your camp. And you'll find that I won't be stopped this time by mutterings about rules and honor and vain postulating and posturing. I will truly wipe your dark stain from off this world!"
Then he was turning smartly on his heel to step over the bodies of the Reavers he had already slain, shoulders set in determination as he marched through the tents without a backward glance. That left Vestrun and his leftenants shifting awkwardly in place in impotent rage. They had little choice now: accept Mordecai's compromise or prepare to withstand a second devastating assault! And a quick look at the heap of bodies the knight-protector had left behind was enough to convince Vestrun that Mordecai was more than capable of destroying them all.
"Very well, knight-protector," he snarled tightly at the spot he had watched Mordecai disappear into. "You'll be facing my Reavers by the first hour past midday, as you wish. But you won't be facing me! You'll be leaking out your life's blood onto the earth instead, cut down by my Reavers before a half-hour beyond that first hour's end. For you're not the only one that knows how to summon the god fire and use the Quaydrim!"
It was lucky for Vestrun that Mordecai was well beyond the Reaver's words by that time or the still simmering rage that seethed just below the level of consciousness would have flared anew, hurling the lean man in black back through the tents, intent on mayhem. As it were, he was frowning darkly when he finally stepped out from between the blood red tents to find an astonished Brother Felix waiting for him. The cleric was openly surprised that the young knight-protector had gone into the midst of the Reaver camp and had returned alive, hale and whole. A fact that he hastened to point out.
"Sir Caiphus!" he stammered. "You're ... you're still alive?!?" He quickly fell in with the striding Mordecai.
"Yes, that I am," Mordecai acknowledged with a fierce nod. "Much to your surprise, I'm sure."
"Well, I ... I ..." Felix began, his mouth falling silently even as it worked hard to issue a word.
But Mordecai wasn't about to let the cleric explain himself.
"Never mind that now, Brother Felix." He took Felix's arm in a tight grip to get the young priest-acolyte's undivided attention. As soon as Felix fell silent, turning wide eyes onto him, he went on.
"I need you to return to the order's camp and find me a midday meal. My assault on the Reavers has left me without my full strength. I must renew it before I face the dark ones in battle on the tournament grounds exactly one hour after midday."
"You'll, you'll ... you'll be facing the Reavers in the tournament?" Felix squeaked in disbelief as Mordecai dropped his grip on the young man's arm.
"Yes," Mordecai darkly confirmed, his stride towards the low, gray-colored tents of the order's camp not faltering a step. "I will cut my way through their dark-hearted ranks until Vestrun himself is kneeling in defeat before me. Only then will the borderlands see peace for a season, allowing the order to rebuild the ranks of the knight-protectors. And, by the god fire that fills me, I'll even do it by their rules so that they'll know they've been truly defeated!"
A tight smile touched his lips for a brief moment before it was swept away in a blaze of intensity from the god fire in his mind.
"Now go and do as I've instructed you. We don't have the time to idle in waste."
Nodding his understanding, Felix turned and began to run towards the camp, holding up the edges of his long robe so it wouldn't get in the way.
"And fetch me Father Brin! I wish a blessing of him before I march into battle!"