The Black Star, Allan Deya [large screen ebook reader TXT] 📗

none. Yet he believed the man when he said that his rogues would not join in the fight. He could not be sure but he thought he saw a smile tug at the corner of the dreaded captain’s mouth when he looked his way.

“Can I at least use them then?” Brechin asked.

“Why not.” Kamal said and threw her a canvas bag.

Jon blinked for what seemed just a split second, and when his eyes flew open the whip wielding man was bending over him.

“I would suggest you muster your strongest will for survival.”

Reacting instinctively, Jon swung his saber at him. The whip came down hard on the back of his hand and almost as though they were old friends having a chat; like Jon hadn’t just tried to kill him, he put his arm around the marine’s shoulder and continued. “She is better at these than the blade.”

As he floated away from the still shocked Marine, Jon looked up to see the little girl brandishing a metal claw and bouncing from foot to foot. The crowd grew silent as the leaps slowed down and finally stopped.

She looked to her captain and when she got the go ahead, dashed forward. Jon could hardly believe the speed with which the little girl cut across the deck of the massive vessel, or the power with which she clashed the claw against his blade.


chapter FIFTEEN

Her attacks were relentless, her speed incredible and power unbelievable. She kept at him like a body possessed; it took more than he knew he had left to keep from being impaled.

Brechin had an advantage and she knew it, which is why metal claws were her weapons of choice. They were like an extension of her body. Fighting with them was like dancing and she did love dancing.

Her small body made her a difficult target and her grace and agility made her a formidable foe. Which is how she managed to avoid the man’s downward slash and duck his side strike without a pause in stride.

He brought his knee up and she blocked with her forearms. She knew he would follow up with an elbow to the back of her head so she twisted away. The man switched tact; she heard the foot placement change and knew he was lunging after her for a stab in the back.

When she turned she did it claw first, to block the blade and kick him in quick succession; front left to the side of the head, back right to the small of the back as he fell forward. For good measure she aimed a stab at his prone form.

Jon just barely rolled out of the way and came up to find her features composed, claw still in the wood where his neck had been only moments ago. Child or not, he could not afford to play games with this one. If he wanted to see the morrow he would have to throw away his pride.

He picked up the sword digging into his side and stood up. Adrenaline was pumping through him, he could scarce feel the wound in his thigh now. This next round would require his full power, no time for injuries and such. He held the blades at chest level.

“Cap’n?” Kamal asked.

“Let them be. She needs this.”

“He is not an easy target.” His first mate insisted as the man raised the sabers and held them horizontally; in the form of a cross. “That technique…”

“Kamal.” Jonti interrupted. “Haven’t you noticed? B is not at her best either.”

“Cap’n!”

“She has been fighting with one hand behind her back, fighting with only one claw. There have been no acrobatics and her spirit is silent. The battle has not yet begun.”


chapter SIXTEEN

Jon closed his eyes; he did not want to, but he knew he had to. His intensive training at the academy, his many years out at sea; his experience both as a man and a marine had not prepared him for a scenario like this. How could he kill a child?

But again, how could he not? It was either kill or be killed; this child had shown him that she was playing for keeps; it was time to up the stakes. The technique he was gearing up for had been passed down in his family for generations.

It’s skill and precision had protected Narnia’s monarchy in times past and it’s power and range saved a great many lives in the country’s civil war. It was widely known and feared even more.

Brechin felt the blood begin to hum under her skin; she felt her muscles ripple with excitement. She had needed this more than she knew; this was growth, this was experience, this was the first step to the morrow she had searched so long for.

She clutched the second claw tighter, the knowledge that she would have to use it soon ringing in the head. The man attacked first.

Brechin knew about the flying dragon technique, knew how to use it and how to defend against it; it had been drilled into her by Jonti and she had practiced it numerously with Kamal. She was confident in her mastery of it.

But this was not a lecture in the captain’s chambers, nor was it a spur on the deck of the Star. This was real; it was a duel and she needed to remember, no to put to practice everything she knew.

The blades were coming at her from both sides of the neck; stage one where the wielder of the technique would attempt to decapitate his opponent with the initial strike. If you had one blade, then that meant you could only defend one side of your person.

Brechin pulled back bent down low and with all the might she could muster delivered an upward blow to the point where the blades intersected. That left her opponent open to the double kick; to his shin and chest.

Recovering quickly from the child’s almost playful defense against his attack, Jon dove straight into stage two of it, combining the blades and slashing downward right, upward left followed by a double handed forward thrust.

If it did not end your life it would end your existence as a fighter. A slash or stab from two blades so close together made it impossible for the wound to fully heal. In the event that one actually survived it they would soon wish they hadn’t.

Brechin dove forward, under his right arm in a head roll but anticipating his reaction did not complete the somersault. Instead she stopped braced her left foot on the ground as soon as it touched the earth and used the right to push herself back under his left arm as he turned with his second slash.

She then dragged her light body under his legs and came up behind him as he stabbed where her form should have been standing. The element of surprise on her side, she leaped into the air and using both feet kicked him in the back of the head.

Jon had in all his time alive seen only 13 who had managed to evade the dragon’s jaws and tales of the few who had managed to evade it’s claws had been told to him as a boy. But these had all been seasoned fighters, the latter being fighters in the revolutionary wars.

This child had just managed what took years of practice and experience. If she managed to evade the tails as well, Jon knew all was lost. That’s what was running through his mind as he made his final charge.


chapter SEVENTEEN

Placing the base of one sword on the base of the other he formed a double sided, double edged weapon. Moving it like a windmill he advanced on the little girl, giving her no place to run to- no way to escape being cut.

Three back flips later and Brechin was far enough away from the menacing blades; with a smile on her face she rushed head on towards her attacker. Jon faltered for less than a second; which was more than she required.

A normal person facing such an assault would be held captive by fear the moment they saw the technique, a relatively good and experienced fighter would at least have the sense to retreat until they saw an opening to escape.

The truly gifted would know to hold their ground and wait for the one moment of weakness between the attacks and defend pattern just as the attacker lunged for the kill.

Jon had never known any person who ran full out against the deadliest stage of one of the most revered blade techniques in the world. She was mad, there was no other explanation, the girl was mad.

Brechin picked up her speed as she neared her opponent; she measured her breathing and narrowed her eyes in focus. There was a one shot chance, executed perfectly it was the ultimate defense against the attack- but a small miscalculation, the slightest mistake and you were dead.

6 yards from her target Brechin leapt forward and started spinning in the air, her clawed arm stretched out before her. The first two spins were supposed to daze the enemy from the sheer speed added to an assault. From the way the slight falter in the man’s advance it was apparent that that at least had been achieved.

The third spin was meant to be used to get a handle on the speed at which the enemy rotated his blades and the fourth was used to gauge the pattern of movement they used moving side to side. The swiftness and curve at which a warrior moved his weapons were largely dependent on the age, technique and prowess and just a little to do with personality.

Which necessitated the 3rd and 4th spins; a mistake at this point would mean you were opening yourself up to a counter attack from an experienced enemy and would almost certainly be death when up against a master. The second of the four part style was thus also used to determine whether to push through with the attack or to pull lightly back into a defensive maneuver.

Luckily by the end of part 2 Brechin was sure she need not concern herself with the backup form of the tactic; drawing her right arm back as she completed the 5th revolution, she brought her foot down 2 yards from the man and with the muscles achieved from a difficult childhood and skill honed through a lifetime of fight games lunged at her target.

Jon saw the girl come ever closer and though mystified as to what she intended to achieve with her foolhardy endeavor never once let his mind wander. With his eyes locked on the spinning form of the soon to be dead girl, he gripped the blades harder as he made final approach.

The shock on his face, he was certain, was comical. One minute he was moving forward sure he would cut down the child and the next his blades had stopped rotating and he could not for some reason budge his arms.


chapter EIGHTEEN

He looked down and if his jaw dropped any further he would soon be gurgling sea water. The 3 spiked claw was lodged perfectly against his weapons with the middle point in between and displacing the base of the swords; interfering with the pattern of movement thereby halving