The Broken Pieces(86)

The river flowed across his hands.

“I hope she’s waiting,” Darius whispered with lungs slowly starting to fail him. “I hope she’s…”

The wind blew across him, and a smile blossomed on his face.

“I see,” he said.

And then he died.





25



Away from the forest staggered Luther. He felt baffled by the display, and in awe of the strength that had humbled him. Over and over he thought of that moment, when Darius had lifted his sword high above Jerico’s neck.

“His life is not yours,” the paladin had said. “You will not have him. You will not kill him. He is beyond you now.”

And then the sword had fallen. The moment left Luther sick. He’d hoped the two would listen. They could have joined him, come back to learn. Why would they do such a thing? Why were they so willing to die? In stabbing Darius, he’d taken pleasure in punishing Jerico’s murderer. But then Ashhur had shown his presence, and what a presence it was.

The smoke billowed into the sky behind him, the fire slowly spreading along the riverside. Luther saw none of it. Instead he saw a man waiting for him, his two dirks in hand. The land beyond the forest was smooth grass, and it rippled in waves as the wind blew. Without fear Luther approached, even though his strength was sapped and his head ached. All around them were the corpses of men and monsters.

“I see you survived,” Luther told Kaide, stopping ten paces away and standing to his full height.

“And you as well. It will take more than a few wolf-men to lay me low.”

The wind howled. Their eyes met, and they shared a stare that dragged on and on.

“Is Jerico dead?” Kaide asked.

Luther nodded. The motion made the brigand’s whole body tense. An attack was imminent. Luther knew he would not survive.

“Did you kill him?”

Kaide’s voice was like ice, and there was no disguising the loathing.

“No,” Luther said. “No, I did not. I would have had him live. The choice was taken from me.”

The dirks lifted. Luther closed his eyes, and he prepared himself to meet his god. But the hit did not come. He heard a slow exhalation of air, and when he looked, he saw Kaide jamming the dirks into his belt.

“I do not understand,” Luther said.

Kaide shook his head, and his eyes swept across the bodies of the battlefield.

“No,” he said. “I doubt you would.”

“This is the promise I made to you. Here I am. Strike me down.”

“I want to,” Kaide said. “But I will not honor Jerico’s memory that way.”

He turned to leave, but Luther had to know. He called out, stopping him.

“Tell me first, do you honor the man, or what he believed?”

Kaide turned his head to the side. His gaze remained firmly on the ground, as if ashamed of what he needed to say.

“He begged me to let you live,” said Kaide. “He loved Sandra as much as I, yet still he begged. It wasn’t to protect you. I hope you realize that, Luther. He didn’t put himself in the way of my dirks for your sake. He did it for mine. I honor Jerico for everything he ever was, and you’re a fool if you think you can separate the man from what he believed.”

With that he trudged off. Luther watched him go, his bafflement growing. This was a man prone to murder first, a man who knew only hatred. Yet now he let it all go, and for what? To honor a dead man? Men didn’t change like that. He’d seen it a thousand times before. A man was what a man was. To put his back to him, to walk away…

Luther looked to the burning forest, and he heard Jerico’s words echo in his ear.

We save this world by healing it. Not with fire, not with destruction. I pray you one day realize this, and believe.

Kaide had been a man of fire. He’d been a man of destruction. No longer.

Luther’s eyes, for the briefest moment, dared open to a world of possibilities that frightened him. On his knees he fell, and the lion named Doubt roared and roared.