Dragonhammer: Volume II by Conner McCall Page A

his father.  It’s made of steel, but somehow has a dark sheen.  The edges are pointed and black, and in the center an orange scorpion is emblazoned:  the insignia of Tygnar.  The plume on his helm is orange, but his cape is black with an identical scorpion sewn into it.  His hand rests on the pommel of his sheathed weapon.
    “Of course I came,” I respond.  “I’m offended you thought I wouldn’t.”  My left hand moves towards a throwing knife on my belt and my right moves towards the head of my hammer, above my right shoulder.  The makeshift sheathe holds it just high enough for me to take hold and unsheathe it.
    He turns, revealing a large circular shield strapped to his left arm.  It’s the same color as his armor, with similar patterns and the scorpion in the middle.
    “I’ll come back to that,” he says cryptically.  “But you are here, and that’s what matters.”
    “I suppose,” I answer.  “Now let’s get this done with.  No need for words.”
    “Very well,” he says.  “As you wish.”
    My hammer flies out of its sheath as he whips out his mace and slashes at me in one smooth movement.  I jump backwards and grip the shaft of my hammer strongly, gaining my balance and waiting for him to strike again.
    I don’t have to wait long.  The shaft of my weapon blocks a strike, and on the second I push him away and counter to the right.  He blocks with his shield and it dents with a loud ding .  I block another strike and advance, pushing him further back.  As he reaches around the side to beat in my rib cage, I knock his mace away with the butt of my hammer and thump him in the chest with a crack .  He falls to his knees grunting, but I stop as his weapon clatters to the ground.
    “Kill me,” he growls, clutching his chest, staring at the ground.  “Kill me!”
    “Why?” I respond.
    “For honor’s sake,” he says lamely.  “Let me go the way my father did.”
    “Your father fell out of a window three stories high,” I reply.
    “You killed him.”
    “Yes.  I did.”
    “Finish it then!” he roars from the ground.  “Kill me!”
    “Surrender,” I reply.
    He looks up at me with an expression that says clearly, “What?”
    “Surrender,” I repeat.
    “No,” he says.
    “Why?”
    “I cannot be a coward.  I must accept death as it is given to me, and here it is plainly.  If I surrender now, I will be labeled as the Jarl who would not die for his people.”
    “For his people?  If I kill you, your people will come to a war against us that they cannot win.”
    “That they cannot win?  I’ll have-”
    “You know that is true,” I interrupt.  “If I kill you they will come against us until there is nobody of your clan left.  Is that heroic?  Is that honor?”
    “You killed my father!” he growls.
    “And he killed mine!” I roar.  “There is nothing we can do about past actions, but you do not have to die today!  Do not condemn your people to an endless war!  Make peace and retreat!  Surrender!”
    He glares holes into the ground.  I offer my right hand, hefting my hammer in my left.  Then he takes it and I help him to his feet.  As he rises, he grasps his mace.  It dangles to his side.
    I nod to him.  “You have chosen wisely,” I say.
    Then I turn to walk back towards the army.  I stop when I hear his voice.
    “I will not rest…” he seethes.  “Until either you or I lie lifeless in the earth!”
    He charges and his mace flies out of his hand with a single swing from my hammer. I knock him off-balance and then slam my shoulder into his chest, breaking at least a couple of ribs.  He yells as he falls to the earth in a crumpled heap, “Now!”
    As I stare, his form begins to rise.  Hideous laughter erupts from his throat as archers step out from behind the stones, each one bearing a crossbow trained on me.
    I grimace at him as one of them helps him to his feet.  “Surrender,” he snarls.
    “You cheated,” I growl.
    “Is that a