The Executioner by Dee Carteri (chrome ebook reader txt) 📕

in the woods it sounded. Strange, foreign... inhuman.

"Thou art no enemy of mine, axeman." It spoke in its bass thrumming voice. The words too, echoed down the corridors of time. Corym understood them well enough, but they were wrong, old. Like the ancient foundations of this plaza where they now stood, those words too hearkened back to the days of myth. No man alive spoke that way.

Again that voice rumbled forth. "I am no demon. Thou need not fear me. Unchain me and I will be away. I have done no harm to thy people. My quest is no concern of man."

"Fear you!" Corym laughed as he swung his axe before him. "Do I look to fear you, creature, I with an axe and you, chained?" He slid his eyes to the side, finding the guardsmen who bound the stranger.

"Rodryk! Did you find this demon in our holy city?"

"Aye, lord." A distant voice called from the behind.

"And did he run when called upon?"

"Aye, he tried to climb yonder tower, the God's Tower. Erikine caught him with our hook and pulled him down. Three times the height of a man, he fell. Yet still he broke free to climb again." Rodryk fell silent as Corym turned back to the black-clad figure.

A step closer Corym came, his axe raised, poised to strike. "Go gently to your demise and I offer you a quick and painless death." He saw the creature strain at his bonds, the chain quivering under the pressure, and sensed it would not be so. "But resist and your last memories of this world will be pain. The choice is yours to make."

The creature seemed to calm. "Do thy work, axeman." He rumbled. He knelt, his neck positioned squarely above the metal ring atop the iron stake. He was on his knees and his hands were pressed to the ground on either side of the stake. He became utterly still, silent.

Slowly, warily, Corym circled to the side of the stranger. He was surprised a creature that fought so ferociously to escape capture would turn meek in his final moment. Perhaps, thought Corym, he knew the inevitable and would leave this world with honor. He looked above. The moon was almost completely behind the tower now, and high flying clouds raced across the sky. In the courtyard however, all was still. Even the circle of guards had fallen quiet. Corym raised his axe high above his head and it caught a moon's ray with a steely glint. He had promised a smooth kill and he would give one. The axe swung above them, hung in the air, then dropped.

In a flash the stranger, the demon, moved with a quickness to match, even to beat that of the descending axe blade.

He sprung up and backwards, his head passing just under the blade as the chains wrenched him to a halt. His hands too were flung back and the blade, so fast, so heavy, struck the head of the stake, cleaving the ring and leaving just a cruel spike in the ground. Four lengths of chain also cracked under the blow, sending the stranger reeling onto his back.

Corym, at the last instant, saw his mistake. Too late to alter the blow, he cursed under his breath as he vowed to make this demon pay for his deception. As the stake splintered, the chains broken, he put his weight into the blade, pushing, twisting it out of the broken stones of the courtyard and at the demon' s legs. The spike on the rear side of the blade struck a blow to the shin, gouging into and tearing off the armored greave. He swung the axe up before him and sent the black iron clattering off into shadow.

A gasp went up from the string of guardsmen as they watched the bout, as they saw what lay under that black iron. For where the greave had been, shown smooth silver underneath. Neither leather, nor chain, nor flesh lay revealed behind that armor, but another suit, an impossible suit of bright metal.

The creature drew his legs under him and stood as Corym recovered from the attack. The black helm swiveled as those red orbs considered another flight, but then Corym was on him again. No mighty blow this time, but quick and deadly slashes came fluttering out. The stranger took a step backward, swinging the sundered chains before him to fend off the fury of Corym's attack. Again the agility of that fell creature had prevented Corym from doing his duty. Rage boiled in him. He gritted his teeth and locked those stern eyes on his quarry.

Round and round they battled, circling warily. Chain clattered on blade, stones splintered underfoot and the unmistakable clangor of melee rang out in that great yard. At some point Rodryk stepped forward, his blade singing as it drew free, but with a scowl and grunt Corym sent him back to his place in the circle. This deed was his to finish. He had trusted this demon and been brought low by his treachery. His duty had turned personal.

Before, the demon had only fought defensively, had evaded the blows of Justice or deflected them. But now things changed. Corym felt the change when a chain flicked towards his face, struck his helm. Now he was stepping back, blocking the blows of those chains more often than sending his own.

The guards became vocal. Now they shouted when the axe struck, cursed aloud the words Corym felt for the chains. The stranger fought in silence. Almost methodically he fought, defending with his one chained hand while lashing out with the other. Corym was a warrior of great renown. He lived by judging the skills of his enemy, and he soon began to see openings, chances where he might land a blow. With a feint, he swung low and ignoring the chain that lashed his arm, he brought the axe up to ring loud on the black breastplate. A dent, no more. It was crude, but effective armor. Lesser iron would have cracked at that strike.

But it sent the stranger back a step, and Corym took the chance, leaping, bringing the axe down before him. The stranger recovered and lifted his gauntleted hands, catching the haft of the axe as the blade brushed the curved top of his helm. The axe stopped as if hitting an anvil.

With a crack that echoed through the plaza, the haft broke in twain and the blade Justice clattered unceremoniously to the flagstones.

With a feral scream, Corym leapt again. Eyes blinded by rage he flung his body at the demon. This time he did catch the stranger unawares and he slammed into him, grabbing that black helm in both arms, twisting, pulling, rending.

The black knight tottered, brought his own arms up, and grabbed Corym about the waist. He was pushing, Corym was pulling. For long seconds they stumbled, locked in this mortal embrace. They watched as the muscles in Corym's arms rippled, strained as he wrenched at that demon's head. And the demon too, though inhuman in their eyes, and masked by that black armor, they could sense the strength of those arms pushing on Corym.

And then a flash. A flickering of blue, like lightening glimpsed from the corner of an eye. No one saw it (except perhaps for Corym) but all felt it, the blue fire that leapt from the neck of the demon as his head was torn off. Corym watched, still held in the deathly embrace and blinded by the flash. He dropped the head and noticed for the first time that his feet were off the ground. Still the demon held him as if he were locked in death. His last view as his eyesight returned was of two red orbs glaring at him from below.

Then the guards watched, again silent, as those dead arms came to life, lifted Corym and pushed him, flung him through the air. He swung wildly as he fought to find purchase and came down hard on his back. Weakly he raised an arm and it was only then that Rodryk, Erikine, and the rest saw the cruel point of that shattered stake rising from out Corym's chest. In that moment they saw the headless demon bend, scoop up his head in his arms and lope off into the deep shadows of the God's Tower.


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Publication Date: 10-17-2011

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