Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

a brief but flashing smile.
    He'd only just hit his late twenties, but already there was about him a certain gravitas that made him seem older, wiser; more dangerous. He wore his Paragon's armor sloppily, and there was always a buckle or two hanging loose somewhere, but he never looked one inch less than utterly professional. He had large, heavily knuckled hands that rarely strayed far from the weapons on his hips. He looked ... competent.
    No matter where he was, no matter what the challenge, Lewis always looked like he knew exactly what he was doing. Douglas had always envied him that. He would have been surprised beyond measure to know that Lewis often felt much the same about him.
    The two of them had been close friends and partners in arms for almost ten years now. Their record for running villains to ground was unmatched by any other Paragon except the legendary Finn Durandal, greatest of them all. The Deathstalker and the Campbell, knights errant and defenders of the realm. Lewis could have been famous, if he'd wanted. If he'd cared. But mostly he didn't. One famous Deathstalker in the family is enough, was all he'd ever been known to say on the subject.
    Lewis was the best kind of Paragon, which ironically tended to make him one of the least noticed. He couldn't be bothered to play the publicity game, not when there was real work to be done. And whereas the other Paragons milked their fame for all it was worth, with an eye to providing for their future when they retired, Lewis would just nod to the media when they turned up, smile politely when he remembered, and go looking for some more trouble to clean up. He was admired but not adored, renowned but not famous, and the man every Paragon wanted guarding his back when things got nasty.
    That this most unprepossessing of Paragons should have ended up closest to the man who would be King both infuriated and charmed the other Paragons, in equal measure.
    The Inner Circle of Paragons was the King's Justice. Each world in the Empire sent its greatest hero, its most deadly warrior, to Logres, to become part of the fabled Circle, part of the glorious legend of the Paragons. The King couldn't be everywhere, but his Justice could. When the law wasn't enough, when peace enforcement failed, whenever men of bad intent threatened to triumph; send for a Paragon. The public couldn't get enough of these heroic men and women, the brightest and the best the civilized worlds had to offer, and each and every Paragon would fight to the death rather than betray that honor and that trust.
    They didn't last long, as a rule. Most tended to retire young. In fact, it was rare to find a Paragon over thirty. It was a dangerous business, after all, with a high fatality rate and a high turnover. Even the brightest of heroes could burn out quickly, from the endless danger, the never-ending work, and the constant pressure. With all eyes forever on them, the Paragons couldn't allow themselves to be any less than perfect.
    But in their time they were splendid and magnificent, the greatest righting men and women of their Age.
    "They're all coming here?" said Lewis. "All of us? Damn. I don't think I've ever seen more than half a
    dozen in one place, and that was during the Quantum Inferno affair, when it looked like we were going to lose all six of the Heart Suns."
    "Paragons are like family," Douglas said easily. "We only ever really get together for weddings and funerals, and the like. Besides, my Coronation is going to be broadcast live to all the worlds in the Empire. Do you really think our noble brothers and sisters would turn down a chance to be seen by such a huge audience? Just think what it will do for their merchandising and licensing fees!"
    Lewis sniffed. "Now, you know what I think about that shit. I was working alongside Miracle Grant once, and he actually broke off in the middle of a battle to plug his new T-shirt to a news camera."
    "Oh yes, Grant . . . how are his new legs coming along?"
    "Growing back nicely, last I heard. Teach him to turn his back on a Son of the Wolf." Lewis looked about him, frowning. "I really don't like the idea of so many Paragons in one place. We'll be a sitting target for any really determined terrorist with a bomb."
    "Security here is top rank," Douglas said firmly. "Trust me on this, Lewis. You couldn't smuggle a dirty hanky in here without setting off some kind of alarm. In six hours' time, this Court will be the safest place to be in the whole