THE HERALD OF JUSTICE

Horace savored the moment and smiled as he slowly removed his sword from Melot’s belly. Once it was clear of the flesh, he sneered. “So much for White Harbor’s most loyal defender.” He felt no remorse as he looked at the blade that dripped with the blood of the city’s most famous and feared guardian. In fact, he was elated and wished he could do it all over again. Victory tasted sweet and Carter-Shire belonged to him now. There was no one left to oppose him. He had been frightened at first when the spirit had taken over his body. But it promised him more power and wealth than even he could have dreamed of. So he readily agreed to do as the spirit commanded. It was nothing that he would not have done in any event. Horace was now the Duke of White Harbor, and there were no others to dispute his claim. With the spirit’s help he would even do what his father was too afraid to do and challenge Theron for the throne of Lucora itself. He looked at the door and remembered who was just beyond it. It filled him with lust and made him smile. There seemed to be something just about reclaiming the girl after what she had recently put him through. There would be time for civil war later. He ordered his guards to move Melot’s now-still body and those of his own men that had failed him and been killed in the fight. He felt drunk with power. Yes, he would be an excellent King. His father and Melot had both betrayed him and were now dead. Once the way was finally clear, he reached for the handle to the thick wooden door to open it and claim his prize. He could not wait to see the frightened look on Samantha’s face. What a day this had been! As soon as his hand touched it, he heard a bone-chilling growl coming from behind him. He froze and moved his hand away from the door. He slowly turned to find himself faced by the Arbiter and his awful black and brown companion. It looked to be a cross between a small black bear and a mastiff. “Yokota,” the spirit told him. It seemed frightened. His muzzle was covered in blood, and the Arbiter was holding his great sword Veritas. The blade seemed to burn with anticipation. Horace’s remaining dozen or so men fanned out and surrounded him. He was about to order them to attack and kill the two, when they were torn into by a brilliant, flashing blade and razor-sharp fangs. Horace watched with detachment as his best men were easily and quickly destroyed. The man and beast fought together as one. There was never so much as a small opening in which to strike them. It was actually quite beautiful to watch, if not for the fact that he knew that he would be next. Before long, he stood alone facing them. Samantha was forgotten. Now, he knew the true meaning of fear. “If you kill him many more will follow.” The Arbiter and Yokota stalked toward Horace. Perhaps, if they acted quickly enough, they could kill both the boy and the Demon-Lord at the same time.