Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

on you."
    "That's because you have no sense of irony," said Lewis. "But you're right, there is a certain inevitability about this. I couldn't leave Logres without taking care of unfinished business, without taking care of you.
    One last duty, on my part, to save Douglas and the Empire from the viper at their bosom."
    "Typical of a Deathstalker," said Finn. "You have to overdramatize this. Make it significant. It's just you and me, Lewis; fighting it out at last to prove which of us is the better man. Just as I planned."
    "Typical of you," said Lewis. "You couldn't risk a fair fight; you had to cheat. Didn't dare show yourself, until after I'd exhausted myself fighting the army of assassins you sent here . . ."
    "Well, quite," said Finn. "I'm not stupid. Unlike some people, I always think ahead. Now come on; enough talk. Let's fight. Let's dance the dance of blood and death. You must have wondered, down the years, what would happen if the two greatest Paragons on Logres ever went head-to-head. You must have wondered which of us was really the best?"
    "No," said Lewis. "I never did. That's the difference between us, Finn. I never gave the matter a moment's thought. All I ever cared about was doing my job, to the best of my abilities. Not to show how good I was, but to help the people who needed help. To protect the innocent, and punish the guilty. And that is what's brought us here, Finn. No great battle between hero and villain, no legendary, mythic clash of titans. I just have to be a Paragon one last time; protect the innocent by killing the man who threatens their safety. One last duty before I can leave; I have to take out the trash."
    Finn's face flushed angrily and he lunged forward, his sword reaching for Lewis's heart. But Lewis had been expecting that, and his force shield was already there to block the blow. Their swords slammed together so hard sparks flew on the air, and then it was stamp and lunge, parry and thrust, all at dazzling speed; two men circling each other with a lifetime's experience and deadly skill. Soon they were breathing hard, and grunting aloud with the effort they put into their blows. Two men who had once been partners, if not actually friends, and were now so opposed that this was all they had left in common; the need to kill each other. They threw themselves against each other again and again, eager as lovers, hating each other with a cold focused flame that could only be soothed by the other's blood. And surprisingly soon they dueled themselves to a standstill, neither willing or able to advance or retreat a step . . . until Lewis beat aside Finn's blade, lunged forward, and the tip of his sword dug a deep rent through the
    Champion's black leather armor, neatly bisecting the stylized bas-relief crown over his heart. Finn cried out, in shock as much as anything else, and backed away. Lewis grinned at him like a wolf, his ugly face alive with anticipation.
    "In the end, Finn, it doesn't matter a damn who's fastest, or strongest, or more experienced. Or who could afford to spend the most on personal trainers . . . What matters is passion, commitment, and a faith in what you're fighting for. You never had any of those things, Finn. All you ever had . . . was you. And that's not enough when you're facing a Deathstalker."
    Finn looked into Lewis's eyes, and had to look away, unable to face what he saw there. Lewis stepped forward, and Finn turned and ran. Lewis watched him run for a moment, and then raised his gun. He'd never shot a man in the back before, but for Finn Durandal, for all the things that man had done, he would make an exception. But already there were shouts and alarms from all over the landing pads, and everywhere armed men were running towards him. Uniformed peacekeepers and security men, this time.
    Some of them opened fire, and energy beams shot past him, some only missing by inches.
    "Lewis, come on!" Jesamine called from the waiting Hereward. "It's over! We're leaving!"
    Lewis nodded slowly, and lowered his gun. There would be other times. He turned away and boarded the yacht. It was every bit as luxurious as he'd expected, though the tiny bridge was more than a little cramped with four people and an eight-foot reptiloid crammed into it. Lewis took the pilot's seat and called up the ship's AI.
    "Greetings!" said the AI, in a bright and cheerful voice that Lewis just knew was going to get on his nerves really quickly. "I am your ship's AI, Ozymandius by name, and I