CHAPTER 22
The two swordsmen stared at each other long after the sounds of the footsteps of the fleeing wizards had faded. Coriano held his white sword delicately in front of him, the blade shimmering with its own pearly brilliance. Brighter than the lantern at the bounty hunter’s feet, the sword glowed like the moon in the dark, empty treasury. Josef kept his eyes even with it, letting them adjust to the light.
Coriano took an experimental step forward, but Josef’s only response was to tighten his grip on the heavy beam and hold his ground. Coriano stepped back again, resting his sword wearily on his shoulder. “You can drop your oversized matchstick,” he said. “I’m not going to roll over when you come swinging like those fools in the hallway. Draw your sword.”
“You set all this up just to fight me,” Josef said. “Well, here’s your chance. Come when you’re ready.”
Coriano chuckled. “You think this is about you? Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Liechten. You are just the trappings. You know what I’m after.” His good eye flicked up and focused just above Josef’s left shoulder, where the Heart of War’s hilt waited. “Draw.”
“The Heart is my sword,” Josef said. “It chose me, so I’ll decide when to draw. If you’re so keen to cross blades with it, make this worth my while.”
Coriano’s eyes narrowed, and there was no hint of humor in his expression when he raised his sword again. “Have it your way.”
Coriano lunged, and Josef raised his beam just in time to keep the white blade from burying itself in his neck up to the hilt. The sword cut through the solid hardwood like it was taffeta, and Josef was forced to duck as the swing carried over his head. But Coriano was waiting. As soon as Josef’s head went down, the swordsman’s knee hit him square in the ribs. The blow opened Josef’s chest wound and sent him sprawling. He hit the stone floor hard and brought what was left of the beam up just in time to save his stomach from the next blow. The sword sliced clean through the wood again, but this time, Josef was prepared. At the split second when the white edge was buried deep in the beam, he twisted the beam. The blade caught, and Coriano’s eyes widened as, with one enormous heave, Josef sent beam, blade, and swordsman hurtling through the air.
Coriano ripped his sword free and landed neatly. The beam clattered to the ground behind him, sending a shower of dust and splinters into the air. Josef struggled to his feet, clutching his chest, which was bleeding freely again. He drew his short sword and dropped into a defensive position.
“You can’t be serious,” Coriano said, sounding almost annoyed. “You can’t really expect to beat my Dunea with that metal hunk. She was made by Heinricht Slorn himself, the greatest master of Shaper wizardry the world has ever known. She was forged to be a killing blade in the hands of a master swordsman. This is her purpose, her nature, and you would face her with a sword so deep asleep, it doesn’t even know which side its edge is on? Be reasonable, man. You won’t be able to land a touch, much less a blow.”
Josef grinned. “Only inferior swordsmen blame their swords, Coriano.”
Coriano’s eyes darkened. “We’ll see.”
He lunged again. Josef sidestepped, sliding his blade along the flat of the white sword, going for Coriano’s knuckles. The older swordsman spun, and the white blade flew up to bite into Josef’s left shoulder. Josef gritted his teeth and dropped to one knee, spoiling the blow and saving his tendon, but the shallow cut was enough. Pain shot down his arm, and he felt himself going off balance. The cut had sliced through the leather strap that kept the Heart of War in place, and the enormous sword’s weight threatened to topple him. He twisted, slipping out of the harness before it could pull him to the ground. The Heart of War rang like a bell as it hit the stone floor, and the entire room vibrated with the deep, clear sound.
Josef didn’t have time to see where it had fallen. Coriano’s sword was coming again, a high blow aimed at his right shoulder. Josef dodged and swiped at the one-eyed swordsman’s side, hoping to catch him off balance, but Coriano’s white blade was there before Josef saw it move, and the top third of Josef’s short sword clattered to the ground.
Coriano returned his sword to the ready position. “We’ve been here before, Josef,” he said calmly. “We both know how it ends. Pick up your true blade and fight.”
Josef’s downswing caught Coriano off guard. The jagged edge of the broken blade bit deep into the bounty hunter’s leg, and only the older man’s speed saved his artery from being cut clean through. Coriano danced away, sword flashing. Josef grinned and swung his stub of a sword, flinging an arc of Coriano’s blood onto the dusty ground.