He gave a sharp mock salute and pivoted on his heel.
I gave Jes a brief outline of everything I could remember of the attack. It wasn't much. But there was one thing that tugged at the back of my mind. How could an arrow without a tip punch through leather and make a hole in my shirt?
I kept that observation to myself.
For the next two years I worked for the Mercenaries Guild. Training continued to be my main focus, and I eventually gained a reputation as one of the best fighters in the Guild. Some may question how I gained so much skill in such a short time - it's easy for one to do when one has no social life or other distractions. I would advise against it though. It's a lonely existence.
The last mission I took was a dangerous one. The route took us through the lands closest to the North - to the very guard towers themselves. Those towers were the only thing standing between the Northmen and the rest of Attarnon. They were the victims of constant raids, yet always held strong.
Our job was simple - to protect a group of Madmen on their way to the tower, and then a different group on their way back. It was about two week's journey each way, and was likely to be boring as watching grass grow. The towers never let any raids past.
We set out on the fourteenth day of Third. Spring was just beginning, and so I hoped that the weather wouldn't be a problem. Even so, I decided to bring along some warm clothes, just to be safe. It was a good thing I did - the wind was colder than I had imagined.
We reached the tower without incident, as I had expected. As soon as we were given leave, I headed off to find the warmest place I could. The tower was larger than I thought it would be, with every inch of it devoted to defense. The gate we had come in was at least a foot thick, and the walls surrounding it thicker still. The tower itself was in the center of the ring of walls, and it housed the Madmen who defended it. A small town had formed at the base of the tower, consisting of the regular soldiers, mercenaries, and the others necessary for keeping the tower functioning.
The Guild had a presence here as well, of course. It was small, just an inn and a training area that we shared with the Quis. Cold as I was, I was curious to see the Quis spar. They were said to be faster and stronger than normal humans, and I assumed that was exaggeration.
Short version: it wasn't.
Even clad in their traditional gleaming plate armor, they moved faster than my eyes could track. Massive blades flashed and swung, with the occasional ringing clang when a hit connected with another blade - or another Qui. There were no holds barred in this contest. Of course, the tower had both a Healer and a Necromancer, as was necessary. They were the reason the towers never fell in combat, but during the long stretches of silence along the border, they were also infinitely useful at times like this. Combat training is far better when you know you can't permanently damage your opponent. It makes it far more realistic, and I was immediately enthralled by the concept.
I didn't stand the slightest chance of competing with the Quis, so I sat and watched, trying to absorb as much as I could. But the more I watched, the more I noticed that strength and speed were the only things the Quis relied on. Their technique was sloppy, with no more skill than a farmhand. There was no reason for them to perfect their technique when they could send any man flying across the room with a single blow.
But it was enough. I wasn't confident enough in my own abilities to challenge them, so I left before they could question why I was there. Sitting in my room at the inn, I contemplated the Quis. Imagine - just imagine - what it would be like to have that kind of power. For a brief moment, I considered joining up with them. The only thing holding me back was reluctance to join my life with another's. I couldn't handle that. It was so... open.
I curled up in the bed, trying to conserve what little heat radiated from the heating pipe running through the room. It didn't take long to fall asleep.
We left the next morning, and I was glad to get out of there. I longed for the more moderate temperatures in the south, where snow didn't last for more than a day or two before melting to slush in the rain. Or even further south, where it didn't snow at all.
Impatient, I found myself waiting at the gate for the Madmen to get their things together. The sun was just rising over the frozen horizon, turning my crystallized breath into golden glitter. Having no idea how long I was going to have to wait, and realizing it was best to keep moving, I drew my daggers and began moving through the forms I had long since mastered.
For a time, the only sound was my feet crunching on the snow as the blades whistled through the air. Before I had finished the third form, I became aware of someone watching. The rush of heat to my face was a welcome reprieve from the cold. I finished the form as best I could under scrutiny, then turned to face the man.
His gleaming breastplate immediately marked him as a Qui, likely one of those who would be coming with us. I glared at him for a moment. He shrugged.
"Sorry to interrupt," he said. "You were doing well."
"Thanks." I sheathed my blades. Since he was here, we were likely leaving soon.
"I'm serious," he continued. "It's not often I see someone of such skill - and so young, too. You could probably give some of us a challenge."
I scowled at his condescending tone. He laughed. "I meant no offense," he said. "I just..." He trailed off, cocking his head. "You hear something?"
I listened for a few moments. A low roar, like a rumble of thunder, caught my ear. Was there a storm coming? The sky was clear.
"Shit," the Qui said. "It's a raid. Get back inside the walls. We'll take care of this." He grinned. "They picked a poor time to attack. We have twice as many men as usual." He raised his voice to a bellow. "Raid!" he shouted.
"I'm staying," I said as I drew my daggers.
"This isn't something you can handle, girl. These Northmen aren't what you're used to sparring with. They're nearly as strong as we are, and if one goes into a rage, even I might not be able to beat him. Go!"
"No!"
"Fine. But don't expect me to protect you." The Qui drew his sword. By now, the message had reached the Madmen in the tower, and the rest of the Quis joined us, blades drawn. I felt a few looks thrown my way, but nobody else bothered to question my presence.
They fell on us like a storm. I wish I could claim to have been on the front lines, toe to toe with the savage Northmen, but I was forced back as the Quis became the wall that broke the waves of attackers. Again, I was astounded at their strength, but also at their discipline. Not a single one fell in the first assault, and there wasn't so much as a gap in their formation. It was only when the enemy regrouped and came at us for the second time that I found the opportunity to prove myself.
This time, the wall of Quis broke. The first enemy through the gap found himself tangled in vines that grew from the ground faster than should have been possible. One wrapped around his throat while another relieved him of his weapon. Glancing over my shoulder, I found the young man who must have been controlling them - a Druid, obviously. The second enemy through stopped abruptly and looked around in confusion for a moment before a Qui's sword took off his head. That would be the work of the Communicator, projecting voices into the Northman's mind.
The third was mine.
The man was at least seven feet tall, wearing nothing more than a leather vest and trousers. It was a wonder he didn't freeze to death. He didn't seem to think me much of a threat, merely sparing me a glance before heaving his massive sword at my head. I had long since learned not to block blows with my daggers. Instead, I simply moved out of the path of the blade.
But the man was quicker to react than I had anticipated. While the swing was too far committed to stop completely, he managed to change the angle of the swing by the slightest amount, just enough to nick my shoulder before the momentum carried it past. The blow didn't do any serious damage, but it was enough to throw off my balance. Now aware that I was worth more attention than a fly, the man brought his blade around in a smooth horizontal swing at my chest
level.
His reach was too long, and I was too off balance to jump out of range, so I dropped to my knees in the snow. I glanced up to see the blade pass over my head, and I tried to take advantage of the situation to stab him in the belly. Before I could strike, the man altered his blow in mid swing and the pommel of his sword connected with my head.
Dazed, I fell backward on my elbows in the snow. The Qui was right. I wasn't ready for this. Desperate, I glanced around for help. There was no chance of that. The man didn't even hesitate, or take the time to raise his blade for the killing blow. Efficiency at its best, he simply pointed the sword at my chest and thrust it forward. I dropped my back flat onto the snow, but that only gained me a few moments. The blade continued on its path.
And struck the snow on my right side.
The shock I knew was in my eyes was reflected in the face staring at me. There was no way he could have missed. At the same time, I felt a rage building within my mind. There was a power sitting there, waiting to be unleashed.
To his credit, the Northman recovered quickly, raising his blade for a powerful downward blow. I wasn't about to let that happen, but I still wasn't quite feeling up to rolling out of the way. Instead, I grabbed a hold of the power in my mind, and drew it around myself in a protective bubble. I have no idea
Ellise Page 3