Chapter 54– The Showdown.
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Kieren was immediately struck by the similarity in appearance between the Dark Lord and Beraut, although he quickly concluded his mentor was the better looking of the pair. Madumda seemed to be far older and not as well kept as Beraut, but Kieren did have to catch his breath, when he first saw his nemesis. It also made him question whether he could battle someone who so closely resembled the one whom he had begun to look upon as a second father. While Kieren was internally debating this point, Madumda spotted the group, as they were lifting their weapons to defend their champion. He hissed his defiance at them and questioned their audacity.
“How dare you enter my fortress uninvited?” he snarled. “How did you slip past my guards without being detected and destroyed? No, it doesn’t matter how you got in here, but you shall rue your decision to trespass in my home.”
While he had been speaking, he had also been eyeing each individual within the group, noting the odd collection assembled before him. “Before I destroy you, however, I wish to know who among you was able to use such powerful magic? It was the use of that magic that alerted me to your presence and beckoned me back to deal with you. I see no one here who should be able to summon such power, although the elf might be capable of some minor magic. Maybe there are others I do not see?”
The tension was thick as the standoff began, but Kieren managed to pull himself together and summon the resolve he needed. Courageously, he did what he had been dreading, ever since he first learned about his birthright and been told about this quest. He reached up, unfastened his cloak and threw it back, revealing his presence. “There are no others,” he announced, “and it was I who used the magic.”
The others gasped when Kieren did this, but slowly began to realize this was his destiny. Now, they had to place their trust in the accuracy of the prophecy.
“You used the magic?” Madumda asked, surprised, noting how young Kieren was. “Who are you? You mean nothing to me. You are but a puny, young halfling. How could you have learned to control such power?”
The halfling comment wounded Kieren far greater than any sword could have done and brought back a flood of memories from this youth. It was during his time growing up in Wildoness that he had been taunted by the other children, both elf and human alike. Whenever they were angry with him, they would call him a halfling and this always hurt him tremendously. Of course Garreth and Romaric had never done this and always jumped to his defense when others did, pummeling the male tormentors for having the nerve to do so. Now, Kieren fought to recover his composure, after having been reminded of all those terrible memories. Once he succeeded in regaining control of his emotions, he took a deep breath and addressed Madumda again.
“You are certainly a poor judge of character then,” he taunted the sorcerer in return, “and can be easily deceived, if you cannot detect my heritage.” Kieren said this with a forced haughtiness, which was meant to hurt the Dark Lord in a manner similar to how the necromancer’s words had wounded him. It worked, because the sorcerer was infuriated by his brazen retort.
“You and your beggarly kin are of no concern to me,” Madumda replied, visibly irritated, “but I am still curious as to how you could wield such magic.”
Kieren forced out the most evil laugh he could muster, while staring at the Dark Lord. “It is because I am an heir of Ethelbert,” Kieren announced, eager to watch the Dark Lord’s reaction. “I am flesh of his flesh and the one foretold who would destroy you.”
“Impossible!” Madumda snapped, his eyes blazing. “All the heirs of that blasted upstart have been destroyed.”
“Not quite. You seemed to have overlooked my family and me,” Kieren stated, emphatically. He was fighting hard to maintain this arrogant attitude and get under the Dark Lord’s skin, but it was difficult to keep up this façade for very long. It wasn’t like him to do such things and he wasn’t sure he was a good enough actor to be convincing. Regardless, he pressed on, despite his lingering uncertainty. If only he’d realized how effective he actually was with his delivery.
“No! That cannot be true,” the Dark Lord challenged, unwilling to believe his advisor had been right all along.
“It is,” Kieren assured him, “and the magic you sensed was when I used the power of the Golden Medallion, which was granted to me as part of my birthright.” As he made this pronouncement, Kieren slipped his left hand under his tunic and displayed the chain and bauble.
Madumda’s mouth dropped open in disbelief, as he remembered the existence of the long forgotten royal symbol. Seeing it dangling from the young man’s neck visibly shook the sorcerer, so Kieren decided to push the point even further.
“The reason I came here, though, was to retrieve something else that belongs to me.” At that precise moment, he brought his right hand from within the folds of his cloak and held out the Sword of Kings, making sure it was exposed enough for Madumda to see it clearly.
The blood now drained from the necromancer’s face, as he realized the significance of the information that had just been revealed to him. He suddenly remembered the words of the prophecy, detailing his demise at the hands of a descendent of Ethelbert, one who would wield the Sword. Now, it was his turn to recover his composure and try to regain the upper hand from this tall, slender youth.
“You have proven very resourceful to get this far,” the necromancer admitted, “but now you must deal with my unequalled powers. You are but an inexperienced boy and no match for me, regardless of what relics you carry with you. This time I will take immeasurable pleasure in destroying another member of your accursed bloodline.”
“You may try,” Kieren replied, exuding more bravery than he felt, “but I believe in the truth of the prophecy, which states I will be victorious. Once you are gone, the throne of Tarolia will revert back to my family and your reign of terror will end.” Kieren intentionally mentioned the prophecy, to place another inkling of doubt in the sorcerer’s mind. The young man speculated that such a shred of uncertainty might take away the necromancer’s edge and eventually cost him his life. Kieren readily acknowledged that he needed every advantage he could summon, no matter how small, and wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity to rattle his opponent, if only a little.
“A big boast for such a weakling,” Madumda countered, although he was concerned by the implications of the boy’s words. “You must remember that I have destroyed all of your ancestors, including many who were much more powerful than yourself. You are insignificant compared to them. You are but an ant, while they were more like bears. Yet, I was able to rid myself of them and I will be the one who shall destroy you, as well.” It seemed as if Madumda was trying to gain a similar psychological advantage, by using his analogy to lessen Kieren’s confidence.
While this conversation had been going on, Kieren managed to make his way down the staircase. He had passed most of his friends, almost without notice, until Turquinine grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him from going farther. Kieren turned to his giant protector and spoke softly to him.
“I appreciate your concern,” he admitted soothingly, “but this is something I have to do. You know very well this is the reason for our mission. I cannot stop now, but I will try to make you all proud of me.” The Mitikuan nodded his understanding and released his grip. Kieren winked at him, before continuing on, to let the knight know his concern meant a great deal to him.
The young man now lifted the Sword of Kings in front of his body, while approaching the final step. As he raised the weapon and got ready to defend himself, Madumda backed away slightly. The sorcerer still managed to block the doorway they planned to escape through and the very same one through which he had entered only minutes before. The Dark Lord’s movements were very smooth for one his age, but Kieren saw he was holding no weapon, except for his staff. Not wishing to relinquish his advantage, Kieren continue to move out away from the stairway, but wondered why Madumda had not used his magic against him.
“I’m sorry, but you seem to have me at a disadvantage,” the sorcerer stated, while flashing a forced smile. “I am weaponless. I do have my magic, but as you probably already know, I cannot use it against you, as long as you are wearing the Medallion.”
Kieren was somewhat surprised by that statement, as he had never heard such a thing mentioned before. Was it true? Did the Golden Medallion keep Madumda from using his magical powers against him? Kieren thought this might just be another of the Dark Lord’s ploys, to encourage him to let down his guard or give him a false sense of security. Beraut had made no mention of this fact, but maybe he had just forgotten to tell him, seeing there was so much other information for him to disclose. The young man had no way of knowing for sure whether this statement was accurate or not, but he could sense the necromancer’s hesitation about using his powers.
Taking advantage of this minor distraction, and with everyone else staring at Kieren, Madumda glided across the room, until he was standing next to an interior wall. As soon as he was close enough, the necromancer dropped his staff and turned quickly to retrieve a mighty sword, which had been hanging there as decoration. He examined the blade closely, in an effort to be certain it would serve his purpose, and once satisfied, he turned back to face Kieren.
Kieren had not only been thinking about the Dark Lord’s revelation during that time, but had also been recalling his sword lessons in Wildoness. He tried desperately to recall all the fine points he had been taught, knowing he would now have to utilize and depend upon every skill he had ever mastered. He continued to dredge up the mental notes and warnings his instructors had given him and had nearly finished, when he noticed Madumda’s rapid movement toward the wall.
“Yes, this will do fine,” the necromancer muttered aloud, after examining the weapon. With a sneer forming on his lips, he continued. “The time for deciding our destinies has arrived and there will be no turning back now. This day will forever change the history of this land and the outcome of this duel will determine if you or I shall rule the kingdom. It is now up to us to decide which course history will follow.”
Kieren wanted to kick himself for not anticipating Madumda’s move, but it was too late to worry about it now. No sooner had the Dark Lord finished speaking, than he began to charge in Kieren’s direction. The teen instinctively raised his sword to ward off the first blow, which might have severed Kieren’s neck, if he hadn’t reacted as he did. Regardless, it was a powerful stroke and made Kieren stagger backward. Madumda tried to maintain his aggressiveness and took a few more steps toward the young man, so he could deliver his second and third powerful swipes. Once again, Kieren was barely able to parry these maneuvers and it looked as if he were in serious trouble.
Some of the companions moved quickly, in a desperate attempt to go to the prince’s aid, but Madumda noticed them, before they had a chance to get very far. Lifting one hand ever so slightly, he muttered a few words and flicked his wrist, which stopped them in their tracks. Regretfully, they now stood transfixed, unable to move. Having no other course of action, they prayed their young friend would be able to fend for himself. They felt helpless, unable to intervene or assist him as they had in the past, but there was no way for them to contend with the Dark Lord’s magic.
At that moment, Madumda delivered another flurry of blows and, once again, Kieren struggled to defend himself and maintain his footing. He had been forced to assume a totally defensive posture and concentrated only upon surviving, when the Dark Lord flashed him another sinister grin. At that moment, the sorcerer made another energetic attack, which caused blow after blow to ricochet off the Sword of Kings. Kieren struggled to move the blade quickly enough from side to side or up and down, in order to counter the necromancer’s potentially deadly strokes. After nearly falling victim to one particularly masterful thrust, the young man regained his composure enough to carry on.
Even though he was struggling to hold his own, Kieren was also trying to study the sorcerer’s every move, to see if he could learn from him. He was searching for a sign of weakness and trying to find patterns to the necromancer’s attack, so he could use it against him at the right opportunity. However, it was at that moment when Madumda delivered a particularly powerful blow, which knocked the teen backward and slammed him up against the wall.
The wind was knocked from his lungs, when his back hit the cold, hard stone blocks. This momentarily dazed him and caused him to be virtually defenseless, as he fought to catch his breath. Fortunately for him, it took a second or two before Madumda noticed his predicament, giving him that long to recuperate.
Once the Dark Lord realized the significance of what had happened, he rapidly advanced toward the young man, while preparing to deliver the final, fatal blow. Miraculously, Kieren recovered enough to dive to his right, which caused Madumda’s blade to clatter harmlessly against the stone wall. The force of that blow reverberated down the length of the sword, stung the Dark Lord’s hands and caused him to concentrate on the sensations rippling up his arms. This also made him lose sight of his target.
By the time Madumda recovered, Kieren had done a complete roll and come back up on his hands and knees, with the sword still in his grasp. Panicked and fearing the lad was in position to stab him, the sorcerer wheeled around, seeking out his opponent’s new position. Upon pinpointing the boy, he pounced in his direction, just as Kieren pushed himself partially upright.
The teen was barely able to get back to his feet and lift the Sword quickly enough to fend off Madumda’s next volley of blows. Fortunately, Kieren had anticipated the moves his adversary was going to make, since the Dark Lord had basically used the same technique each time he attacked. Madumda, however, didn’t let up in the ferociousness of this barrage and his next blow jarred the Sword out of Kieren’s hands, sending it clattering across the floor.
The companions all gasped in horror, as the terrified teen leapt to retrieve his weapon, knowing he had to reclaim it or die. Unfortunately, Madumda proved to be equally as quick and agile, showing he too could react upon short notice. As the teen dove for the blade, the necromancer kicked him, in an attempt to prevent him from getting very far. The blow from the Dark Lord’s foot hit Kieren squarely in the side and sent him sprawling on the cold, stone floor, but still in proximity to the spot where the Sword lay. Regrettably, he still wasn’t close enough to grasp it.
In the meantime, the sorcerer sprang between the teen and the Sword, placing one foot upon the young man’s chest in the process. This prevented Kieren from getting to the weapon and appeared to seal his fate. Ever so confidently, Madumda raised his sword and prepared to deliver the final, fateful blow.
A stifled groan was emitted by Kieren’s companions, as they recognized the young man’s plight, and they struggled as hard as they could against the magical bonds that held them. Madumda turned and sneered at them, as if to mock their concern and helplessness, before turning back to the task at hand.
During this minor distraction, Kieren had continued to stretch out his left arm, with his fingers clawing at the stone flooring, in an effort to help him reach the hilt of the elusive weapon. When the necromancer turned toward the stairway and eyed Kieren’s friends, he released some of the pressure he had been using to hold the lad down, which allowed Kieren to make a miniscule movement toward the blade. However, now the Dark Lord had refocused his attention upon Kieren and was, once again, preparing to administer the deathblow. The teen never gave up on his struggle to reach the weapon and his fingers were now barely able to brush against its handle.
“It was a noble attempt, my young rival,” Madumda snickered, assured his moment of ultimate triumph was at hand, “but now it is time for you to prepare to join your ancestors. It will do you no good to struggle further, so accept your fate and make peace with whichever Gods you honor. This kingdom is now completely mine.”
Having made this boast, Madumda raised his sword skyward. Both of his hands were gripping the hilt, with the blade pointing downward, as he prepared to thrust it through Kieren’s heart. Just as he was about to drive the blade home, he suddenly stiffened and his cool, self-assured demeanor unexpectedly faded. He jerked his head from side to side, apparently searching the room for something, until his gaze fell upon the doors leading from the foyer.
“NO! This cannot be,” he screamed, showing great concern and startling everyone within earshot. “It’s impossible. You are all dead and no longer exist!” he added. Madumda was as white as a ghost, as the blood had totally drained from his torso.
This distraction was long enough to give Kieren another opportunity to make a move and right the situation. Carefully, he shifted his weight toward the Sword, but not enough to draw Madumda’s attention, until he was able to scrape his fingers across the handle of the Sword. Slowly, he continued the excruciating process of inching the weapon toward him, until he could wrap his entire hand around the hilt. Just as he completed that task, Madumda snapped his attention back to the prone boy, before he could do anything more to defend himself.
“What sort of a trick are you playing on me? Don’t pretend you aren’t using your magic to make me hear those voices,” Madumda screamed at him, thinking Kieren was responsible for whatever he was sensing. “Give it up! You are about to die and no illusion will save you now. At last Tarolia will be mine.”
Kieren had continued to move the blade into a position where he might be able to use it and it was now nearly at his side. The entire retrieval of the Sword had gone virtually undetected by the Dark Lord, as this unexplained distraction totally occupied his every thought. Unfortunately, Madumda had now regained his wits enough to once again ready himself to deliver the final blow.
Frantically, Kieren struggled to lift the Sword, so he could fight back, and
in the process, the Sword’s handle brushed lightly against the sorcerer’s
ankle. Without warning, there was an explosion of brilliant, white light, which
totally engulfed the room and temporarily blinded everyone within. When Kieren
was finally able to look around again, Madumda was gone. He had completely disappeared.
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