Seven Swords, Michael E. Shea [readict TXT] 📗

They had agreed to take a day of rest in the barrens. After the battle against the slave lord, the group needed it. Thorn and Vrenna hiked to the top of the bluff during the day. The Kal rested and helped Ca’daan reset the provisions after the battle had thrown them into chaos. They had enough food and water for the eight of them, but few other comforts and little room for further loss.

Susan sat on a bedroll near the rise of the bluff on a large slate rock that had fallen centuries ago. She watched Jon and Adrin intently. The day gave them time to practice.

Though he worked with the Kal, Ca’daan listened to the words of the two men as they talked, circled, and dueled in a clearing of the brush grass near Susan’s rock.

“Who taught you your fencing?” asked Jon. There was no sarcasm or spite in his voice.

“Sigmund Del’Rosa,” said Adrin. “He was an easterner who taught the fourth emperor.”

“I know Del’Rosa,” said Jon. “A brilliant duelist. He was the master of the left-hand, right?”

“Yes,” said Adrin. “He used to stab me with his parrying dagger. I still have the scars.” He had a new one too, Ca’daan could see. Though scabbed and partially hidden by his beard stubble, the scar from the shard of the teat sword would mark him for the rest of his life.

“There is a key lesson here,” said Jon. “All combat comes from deception. The divine art of subtlety and secrecy they called it in the south. They had shadow gods devoted to it. Draw your sword and dagger.”

Both men drew their rapiers and daggers in a single quick motion that made Ca’daan’s heart leap. “I wish I was that good,” he whispered. The Kal nodded. “I wish I was that good at anything.”

Both men had donned leather breastplates. Deep scars ran across the boiled brown leather of the bandit chest guard Adrin had taken from the site of the slave lord. The collar rose high on the left side, protecting his throat when in a left-foot-forward stance. Plates of iron reinforced leather guarded his left shoulder. Jon’s breastplate had been taken from his saddle pack. It was black leather with a high collar that closed around the front. Buckles crossed at the softer leather midsection.

Adrin held his new rapier, the one Jon had given him. The hilt was a web of steel bars and the blade, though plain and chipped, shone in the morning light. In his left hand he held a long dagger with a U shaped handguard meant to trap an oncoming blade. It was thin and sharp with a wire-wrapped hilt and a weighted spike on the tip of the hilt.

Jon’s rapier still sent a shiver through Ca’daan whenever he saw it. He had seen Jon stab one of the whipmasters with it the night before. How easily the blade had ended the man’s life. Jon fought with it as though it were a natural extension of his body. Every part of him appeared designed to stab the blade through that man as if it were the only action he could take. As the man had fallen, clutching the wound in his chest, Jon had seemed to forget about him completely. His focus had shifted and his purpose was now to stab the next man who stood against him.

Ca’daan saw that in him now, though the purpose had softened. Jon’s own offhand dagger also shaped like a falcon, wings raised on each side of the sharp blade, sat comfortably in his left hand. Ca’daan marveled at the two men, machines built for the art of war. How these men had come into his life remained a mystery. Some force brought them together. A god who cared little for the ways of man but whose breath shifted their lives like wind through grass.

Jon swung his rapier in a wide arc and then redirected it into a thrust. Ca’daan would have been run through but Adrin parried easily. Another feint and stab from the other side, again easily deflected.

Jon stepped back and smiled. “I spoke poorly the other day. You’re skill with the blade is good.”

Jon swung again. Two feigns and two attacks. Adrin kept up easily, using his offhand dagger to trap Jon’s rapier and take a swing of us own. Jon shifted and the sword tip slid past. Jon took three steps away carried on the momentum of his shift. His body was totally relaxed.

Adrin attacked. He swung and stabbed twice. Jon parried with his own rapier. Adrin shouted, pivoting on his left heel and came around in a full reverse swing. Ca’daan saw Jon’s offhand ready to stab him in the side as the young man spun. When Adrin’s rapier came around Jon parried low on the blade. It sent a shock into the sword and seemed to send a bolt of electricity into Adrin’s hand. The blade shook out of Adrin’s hand and quivered on the ground. Adrin grasped his right hand with his left.

“That we’ll need to work on,” said Jon. “Keep it simple. Those flowery moves may blow up the underskirts of young noble women but they will get you killed out here. I hit you with my rapier but imagine if Thorn had parried with his blade. It would have broken your wrist.”

Adrin stooped and picked up his rapier. They began again.

“Tomorrow we work on simplicity. Today deception. What did Del’Rosa teach you about the shadow style?” asked Jon.

“That the offhand is the real weapon. The rapier is for misdirection,” said Adrin.

“Correct,” said Jon. He swung again and Adrin parried with his rapier. They crossed swords in a blaze of shining steel. Both men had sped up without discussion. Now Ca’daan saw the sword mastery of the two men. The complexity of the style, each sword and dagger stabbing, weaving, and striking. Ca’daan turned and saw Susan and the Kal watching intently as well.

Jon stabbed hard, aiming for Adrin’s left side. Adrin could have easily parried with the offhand dagger but instead twisted and caught the point of Jon’s sword in the guard of his own rapier. Adrin turned and locked Jon’s arm and then stabbed in with the offhand dagger. Ca’daan’s blood rushed. For a moment he thought he saw the hatred in Adrin’s eyes that he had seen the day he had left. He’s going to kill him, thought Ca’daan. But the blade stopped. The tip rested against Jon’s cheek, angled to slip down under his leather neck guard. Adrin smiled and Jon smiled back.

“Good,” said Jon. They stepped back again and Ca’daan saw the spring return to Adrin’s step. He wasn’t that bad after all. Ca’daan saw confidence flow back into the young man.

They stood again, tips to the sky and left hands out in salute. The deep red sun hung overhead, painting them in light. They were two weapons of the same forge. They were beautiful. They both stepped back into identical stances. Adrin’s smile never left his lips.

They started again. Ca’daan couldn’t say who begun the exchange this time. The blades swam together. The feint, parries, counters, ripostes, and stabs blended together, making Ca’daan dizzy. The duel stretched until the breath of the two men ran quick.

Jon swung in, Adrin parried and countered. Jon caught Adrin’s rapier tip in the points of the falcon wings of his rapier’s guard. Jon’s offhand came in, tip aimed for Adrin’s exposed throat. Now Ca’daan saw a fury, a bloodlust in Jon’s eyes. The tip of the dagger came in and it wasn’t going to stop. Jon would not hold back the blow. Adrin’s own offhand dagger came up, the tip and guard catching Jon’s blade. Adrin threw his elbow over the entangled blades and pulled back. Jon’s offhand dagger spun into the sand. Adrin spun his dagger and aimed it for Jon’s eye. But a click made him stop. Jon had drawn one of his falcon-hammered pistols and had the barrel up under Adrin’s chin. He had used his disarmed hand to draw the pistol as Adrin had assumed the disarm had succeeded.

“You have to be joking,” said Adrin. Jon pulled the trigger and sparks flew from the flint on steel. It made Adrin and Ca’daan both jump. “Which fencing instructor taught you that?”

“The Voth did,” said Jon.

“A fine display, old soldier,” said the Kal.

“Indeed,” said San’doro. He had backtracked their trail during the day and reported no followers.

Vrenna and Thorn walked down from the path of the bluff. Ca’daan considered how well the man and woman complimented each other. Dark hair, light skin, though the desert sun had baked Thorn brown. Vrenna was lithe and beautiful. Thorn was brutal and ugly. Something in their eyes put Ca’daan on guard. He felt Jon tense as well.

“Welcome back, friends,” said the Kal. “It is time the sun set upon us as one.”

Thorn and Vrenna stood in front of Jon.

“We think it is time you told us about Susan,” said Thorn.