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What felt like a thousand small centipedes scampering across his neck intensified. He slapped his hand against his nape.
Soreth struck out.
The baron’s reflexes shot forth, and he blocked the intended hit on a clang of steel against steel. Sparks flew on impact, and a tiny vibration rumbled across his palm. The blond drew back again and swung out. The baron met his blade with a counter cut and parried a swing aimed at his shoulder.
Soreth blocked it, his movements weak and sloppy, but effective.
The sensation from before returned, the pattering so unnerving that the baron stepped back from his opponent to scratch at his neck and shoulders. It was not long before the scuttling felt as if it’d moved from his neck to his arms, and he broke his attention to stare down at his hand, where something seemed to move beneath his skin, poking at his flesh as if it would break through his skin at any moment. On a gasp, he dropped his sword. Not a second later, he felt the bite of cold steel propped beneath his chin. The sensation withered ,and he lifted his gaze to Soreth, who stood at the opposite end of the blade wearing a wicked smile.
“It was you. You … did that.”
Brows upturned, Soreth tipped his head. “Did what?”
“You cheated. I do not know the manner in which you did it, but you did not fight fair.”
“As I said, your swords posed equal threat. It was your skill which set you apart.” Solomon tapped on the flat of the blade, encouraging Soreth to lower it from the baron’s throat.
“Had he not used trickery, he would not have won.”
“I cannot argue. Soreth is not a properly trained swordsman. However, I suspect he could comfortably challenge four or more Pentacrux soldiers at once and prove victorious.”
“What is he? A warlock?”
Solomon chuckled, shaking his head. “Come now. That is a human term. One that suggests all things which defy the laws of this world are evil. And yet, you have seen such aberrations, have you not?”
He’d have been a fool to admit such a thing. “I have seen nothing.”
“I will notforceyou to see truth. You must see it on your own.”
“And I suppose that’s why I am here? You are the great and wise master who will reveal all truths to me.”
With a sigh, he shook his head. “I am a blind, old man who has simply grown weary of the lies.”
“Is it not you there, every Sunday Mass without fail, playing their hymns and singing of their god. What would you know of truths?”
“You know as well as I do of what truths lay hidden among the lies.” Solomon lifted the baron’s discarded sword and sheathed it back into the scabbard. “Surely, it was not chance itself that led you to your father in the woods.”
“How do you know of that?”
“I know many things. Now, if memory serves me, I believe you have wood to chop and a roof to repair.”
* * *
Grumbling, the baron tossed aside the extra reeds, after having replaced those which had been damaged by the accumulation of heavy snowfall. Every muscle in his body ached, and as he stared down the rickety ladder, he wondered if he even had the strength to make it down. Dusk had settled over the land, and it was the sight of the approaching carriage that would return him to the manor which lifted his spirits enough to make the climb down.
Once the baron had dropped to the ground, Solomon hobbled up to him, his mere presence twisting the baron’s lip into a snarl.“You did well today, young lord.”
“You are fortunate to have stolen a day’s worth of work out of me. It shall not happen again.”
“You are not the least bit curious?”
“About what? The best herbs to season your supper? Which tool might repair a broken carriage wheel? I am not interested in what you offer to teach.”
Brow quirked, the old man sighed. “That is unfortunate. It is such simple tasks which offer fortitude and strength.”
“And yet, based on my sparring with Soreth, I see your lessons do not promise any more than mind tricks.”
“Soreth proved victorious because you’ve not explored your own strengths. Your own mind tricks.”
