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A Choice of Blades: The Blade Remnant, Book One

Page 29

by D. N. Woodward


  “You happy, Jitters? We checked it out. Nothing back down here at all!”

  “Shut it, Kumba! I’m telling you I saw something!”

  The other member of the party made a lewd comment at the expense of Jitters, and he and Kumba had a big laugh.

  Jitters held up a hand. “You guys don’t smell nothing strange?” The other two busted out laughing again.

  “You’re making it too easy on us, Jitters! Come on man, you’ve been squirrelly ever since we bagged us that Fae mob.”

  “I think he’s just afraid someone will steal that saucy redhead from him before the boss gives in to his plea for first pick!”

  Kumba had crossed the line. Jitters cocked an arm back and swung. The three of them went down in a tussle.

  Meanwhile, Leon caught the message between the lines. He thought of Haddie out there, defenseless, in a camp full of monsters like that and his blood boiled. Thoughts of retribution sent a slippery surge of electrical current out from his chest. Then he pictured how easily he could take the loudmouth down one on one. His rage turned to hate. He hated everything about those men and what they represented. His hate gave birth to something new.

  The pain he thought he had lost when he first took up the Blade was once again coursing through his veins. Its very presence fanned the flame of anger still growing in his belly. An untethered strength started exerting its power from deep within his chest, changing his body. He clamped his mouth shut and gritted his teeth against the burning and tearing before all thoughts of restraint slipped away like loosened shackles from his mind.

  Then just before he gave himself to the storm, a firm hand curled around his neck. Warm breath from soft lips tickled his ear as words clawed at the door to the lucid corner of his mind. It gave him just enough of a pause to halt if not subdue the mounting rage that boiled beneath his skin.

  “…back to me, Leon. Don’t give in, don’t lose control!” The soft sounds of her pleas broke through his rage and settled his mind. He slid a hand up to where she still clung to his neck and gave her a pat to indicate he was himself again.

  A few minutes later and the fight below subsided. There were threats and shoves, but the three men tromped back around the corner and disappeared.

  Leon’s head still spun as he breathlessly whispered, “How come that happened? I thought this Blade was supposed to kill that part of me. To protect me from…from what I am capable of becoming!”

  “It does and it doesn’t.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It heals us of the control the sickness exerts over us, but it doesn’t completely remove the taint. That, unfortunately, is still there, lingering in our bodies. It's incredibly powerful, and even a Bladed person can become addicted to its influence once more. Only, with the suppression the Blade provides, they are never as powerful as Unbladed individuals.”

  “So, what good is the Blade?”

  Kyra looked at him, stricken. “Leon, taking the Blade gives us a choice that no one else can claim. We aren’t subject to the twisted nature of the Unbladed, but that doesn’t mean we can’t choose to put ourselves back under that control from time to time. Often to our own detriment…”

  Leon worked to calm himself while she continued to explain the merits of the Blade, still just inches from his face. She was beautiful and smart and way too good for the likes of him, but he was past thinking things through so deeply.

  He reached up, lightly touching her cheek.

  When she stopped talking, he leaned in and met her lips. It was a soft, gentle kiss, full of a tender thank you and more besides. She pulled back after a moment.

  “I’m sorry, Kyra, I just…” he smiled, "I finally found a way to surprise you, didn't I?"

  She leaned in and kissed him back.

  When they broke apart again, she smiled, too. For the first time since meeting his beautiful traveling companion, Leon saw a full smile light up her face. Sitting so close, he could see tiny slivers of green dancing in those smoky blue eyes. He could smell the unique blend of fragrances in her hair. It was a radiant moment he knew he would never forget. Then it was gone. She placed a finger up between them. “Now, no more of that until we break my brothers free!”

  He grinned back. “Are you trying to give me extra inspiration?”

  “You already have inspiration." She winked at him, "I’m trying to keep you safe. If we manage to buy them out, and they later start to think we were canoodling all this time alone in the wilderness, things could get ugly!”

  “Well, I’m sure not going to say anything!”

  Kyra laughed. “Leon, you don’t have to say anything, that's one of the things I like most about you though. If I kissed you every time I felt like it, you would be wearing it all over your face the first moment you met them.” With that said, she scooted back and unpacked gear to feed the animals and set up camp.

  It didn't matter that they opted not to leave the shelter of their alcove for another day. Leon could only sit there and grin as he replayed the first part of the last line she gave him through his head, over and over again.

  Chapter 24

  A few more wary days of travel led them into tall pine forest territory. Coniferous giants soared above both sides of the road, casting dark shadows beneath tall, tightly knit boughs of foliage. These new pines didn’t have the rounded profile of the forests Leon had grown up around, they were skinny relative to their height, with long thick needles. They also weren't the size of giant redwoods, like the trees deeper within the Wild Forest, though they were still impressively large from his perspective.

  The forest itself wasn't an empty woodland though, much the opposite. The roads were wide and well-traveled. Homes and small villages soon made more frequent appearances along their path, so much so that Leon made Ahab ride up under the blanket atop the Thunderbird more frequently around dawn and evening hours.

  The main road was at times paved in gray slate rock, with lonely taverns and mercantile pit stops interspersed along their path. Their nightly game of cat and mouse with the slavers came to an end when Leon decided there were enough folks around that it would be safer to travel during the day while maintaining their distance in the evenings.

  Small streams and gurgling brooks crisscrossed the main road, beneath wide but delicately crafted wood bridges. These small crossings were picturesque and peaceful, but more importantly, they allowed Leon and Kyra to keep their water bags well stocked and their clothes clean.

  Leon found a trader who gave him a bulging bag of silver for the extra Fae clothing he managed to procure from the abandoned Fae camp. He had been reluctant to throw around any of his gold for fear that local word might reach the ears of the wrong sort of people, but the silver went a long way toward food and feed for everyone.

  Most folks gave them a wide berth when they saw all the exotic animals traveling in their group. Not that all the strange looks bothered Leon. He was just happy to finally be in an area that seemed somewhat more civilized. He even saw children playing outside on forest paths, from time to time.

  They did pass three large troupes of men marching off the way they had come, all in orderly tight formations. The troops looked well-disciplined and deadly as they stomped forward in a double-time cadence. Officers marched right along with the men. The only way one could tell the two apart was by their equipment. The soldiers wore light, chain-linked armor and carried heavy packs on their backs while the officers wore full breastplate coverings but carried no packs.

  The majority of all the soldiers they saw marched with spear and shield, though a few of them carried crudely crafted crossbow contraptions. However, all of them were armed with intricately decorated bladed hilts hanging at the hip from cured leather sheaths. Leon could tell the blades they carried were well-crafted, though none of them appeared to possess any smaller, less flashy bone-handled hilts, like the one on the Blade at his side.

  Though the men marched by peacefully, in orderly discipline, without a word s
aid, they gave Leon slippery looks and made the hair on his neck stand on end when their eyes eventually settled on Kyra. Each time he saw them come, he was twice as happy to see them go.

  On the seventh morning of their trek along the northern road, Leon came upon a scene so odd he didn't know whether to laugh and slow things to a crawl as they passed or to steer his crew into the woods to avoid what lay ahead altogether. Still, hadn't he just passed a quaint cluster of houses a mile or two back? He opted to take his chances moving forward.

  A rich baritone voice belted out a greeting, "Hello! Hello, my fine young friends! Welcome to Wysman Slim's Traveling Emporium! Some folks may simply have what you need, others may only attempt to sell what they think you want. Wysman Slim provides that rare and unique blend of what you never expect and can't live without! Take a break from your travels! Step on over to my tents and give yourselves the chance to witness a stunning vision of exotic wares from distant lands!"

  As the man continued to give them his silver-tongued sales pitch, Leon gave himself a mental palm to the face for not scurrying into the woods when he had the chance. He looked back at Kyra, hopeful they might avoid the charlatan's cheap gadgets and crummy supplies but saw it was far too late to salvage the day. Her normally fierce glare for anyone not him was already clouded over in faint lines of curiosity.

  Wysman Slim had two carts displaying a hodgepodge assortment of colorful wares along the side of the wood, in a nice, shaded stretch of road. While strange masks, beaded hoops, small, elegant cages, different colored bottles of liquids, and a hundred other unique tchotchkes rested in random sequence along the edge of each cart, the intrepid entrepreneur himself stood before the covered opening to a large and gaudy tent, nestled between the covered carts.

  The only thing Leon suspected was unexpected about the shyster was his name. Wysman Slim was a big, tall man, with the rounded physique of an Otterkin's water pig. Oblivious to all the apparent warning signs Leon had noted, Kyra climbed down from Grumpy and led the way to what Leon was certain would result in lighter pockets by the end of the visit.

  "Ahh, I have seen the daughters of tribal kings carried upon golden litters by Hootsi slaves, I have witnessed the flying horses of the southern islands pulling South Fang merchant wives in wind-striding carriages over azure waters, but never have I stood in the presence of such an exquisite beauty riding master over such beastly brawn! Allow me to congratulate you, my young maiden, for being the first woman this decade to steal away the heart of this honest old merchant!"

  "Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?" Leon couldn't help himself. The guy's nose should have been turned perpetually brown some time ago.

  "Oh, ho! What failure! I have caused offense! To none other than a capable, strapping young lad! Where is my head? This lady is obviously spoken for, and I have no doubt incensed your jealous heart by speaking aloud what was only resting on the hem of my mind. It is so very noble of you, my young friend, to strike a belligerent pose in the face of my indiscretion. Please allow me to make amends by giving you a ten percent discount to any item you find that speaks to your heart in return."

  "That is so very kind of you, Wysman! Please don't feel bad, I'm sure Leon is just tired, it's been a long day. Tell me, is that a Sojourner's Merchant emblem there?" Kyra pointed to a small benign brand on the corner edge of the merchant's main tent.

  When Wysman turned his head to follow her arm, she turned and gave Leon the kind of look that admonished him to hush up for his own good. Leon couldn't tell what it was she was up to, but her normally reserved expression held the look of a predator which had just found its prey.

  Still, he frowned. There were no price tags on any of the items that he saw laying out on the carts, and something told him he had just been chastised by the slippery-tongued old merchant, though he couldn't pinpoint how.

  Wysman wasted no time acknowledging his association with the emblem on the tent and congratulating Kyra's keen eye while holding the door flap open for them to enter.

  Leon was close enough to smell the heady scent of some cloven spice and floral incense billowing out from within the tent's provisional opening. He turned and gave all the critters, including Grumpy, the invitation to come in, claws out if they heard anything concerning. He also pocketed a pouch of gold coin from his pile of loot on the Thunderbird's back. By the time he turned back around the slippery salesman had already dropped the rug over the entrance and Leon could still hear his overly enthusiastic voice reverberating through the canvas walls.

  This guy is totally gonna fleece us like the tubby pair of wooly lambs we are!

  # # #

  Two hours later and the haggling finally reached a crescendo. Much to his surprise, Leon was enjoying every moment of the drama playing out between Kyra and Slim. He especially relished the wilted look on Slim's chubby face as every form of flattery was masterfully repelled or redirected by a wide-eyed, and intentionally naïve Kyra.

  Indeed, it hadn't taken him long to reach two new epiphanies. The first was that though Kyra often seemed naïve and sheltered, she understood the true value of the things of her world to a degree and depth he would never come close to hedging. The second was that she would take pleasure in prying the last penny from a poor miser's fisted hand if it meant she got the better end of a deal. He had no doubt Wysman Slim would forever rue the day he invited such a shark to swim with him in his guppy pond.

  Wysman wiped his bald head with a cloth to keep the sweat from dripping down into his eyes, "My darling Kyra, alas, as much as I covet your goodwill, I simply can't part with these items for what you propose, but I could never forgive myself if I allowed you to leave here without the satisfaction of knowing you have truly touched the cured tusker hides of Blue Jade Armor. You see, these exquisite pieces were meant to adorn and protect the wildling mounts of the Jaffer King in the far jungles south of Fayden. These straps are said to be practically indestructible and can be cinched to comfortably cover the torso on any large beast one might adorn from the aggression of men foolish enough to test their mettle against an impenetrable wall of tooth and fang."

  "My poor Wysman! It breaks my heart to tell you this…" she leaned in close and whispered for effect, "you have been deceived!

  "Look here, as you may recall and have no doubt forgotten by the myriad of facts that populate your wise and noble mind, Blue Jade Armor contains a gray sheen with soft creases on a smooth surface. There is no sheen here, only pale gray wrinkles on rough ridges. This armor is in decent quality, but it is not from the Jaffer King. It's not bad quality, I'll grant, at least as good as boiled leather. And look there, that wavy track along the seam shows it was processed in a cold climate, not a warm jungle locale." She let loose a deep breath wrapped in pity, "Let me do you a favor and take it off your hands for the two gold I offered on first glance, if for no other reason than to save you the shame of knowing you harbor a farce within this impeccable collection of treasures you carry?"

  Slim's eyes bulged in a flash of anger as he studied Kyra, but she merely looked back at him in feigned sympathy. Finally, he deflated, looking a bit green around the gills, and nodded. "So be it, I can see you have a rare eye and as my eyes are older and less apt to see these things as clearly as your youthful orbs, I will defer to your judgment in this matter my good woman. I must admit this is one of the rare items I procured indirectly. However, I swear I will hunt down the scoundrel merchant that sold me these trinkets, to the very ends of the earth if necessary! I will in turn redeem my honor from his purse. For my gratitude, I will part with this whole parcel you have selected for twelve gold." Here at last was the climax to all the theatrics.

  "Six," Kyra fired back.

  "Ten." Slim's eyes narrowed.

  "Eight, and not a copper more."

  "Done!"

  "Done."

  They each bowed to one another. Kyra didn't celebrate the fact she had just talked the vendor down by over two-thirds off his original price. She turned to Leon and
meekly asked, "Well, you're the one with the money, Leon. Did you see anything you like?" causing Leon to perk up and take a closer look around.

  I've got a whole chest full of gold, why not spend a little on a nice souvenir?

  Slim perked up as well, like a dog catching a new scent on a breeze, his greedy eyes sensed his day might yet be redeemed by the young man he hadn't previously attempted to coerce.

  "Easy, Slim! Give me a little room to breathe and I might just find something worth buying."

  "Of course, young master! Though I can see your eye has already spotted an item worthy of your attention."

  Leon frowned down at the richly-colored pile of tiny rocks, each painted with artful symbols. "What are those?"

  A hint of a grin twitched beneath Slim's mustache. "Minotaur fertility beans, for barren goats."

  "That's a thing?"

  "Goats that can't have kids?"

  "No, never mind." Leon shot him a look but couldn't tell if the man was serious. He opted to move along, either way.

  He continued perusing racks of curious items with Slim providing constant commentary each time his eye paused too long in one place until a thought struck him.

  Leon pushed up his hat and scratched his head. "Slim, I've got to admit you have a ton of interesting stuff in here, but I don't see anything I need, except for maybe this braided rope. Is there nothing else for sale here?"

  The old merchant's shoulders dropped. "I can assure you, master Leon, no decent merchant would ever hold back an item from a potential sale. Everything has a price."

  "Everything?"

  "Everything!"

  Leon continued, "In that case, I did see something interesting outside!"

  Kyra gave Leon her signature arched brow. He bit back a smile of his own as he popped his knuckles.

  "How about we go take a look at those wagons out front!"

  An hour later, Wysman Slim counted out twelve new shiny gold coins from within the comfort of his tent. Outside, Leon finished hitching his new wagon to an irritably disgruntled and armor-girded Grumpy as Kyra buckled the last piece of gray armor across Merle's neck.

 

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