by Jeff Gunzel
Uncomfortable, Dengar cleared his throat. “And once again, my lady, you prove yourself to be as wise as you are lovely,” he replied, his wandering eyes seeming to roam her entire body with a leering sweep. It was all she could do not to drive a fist straight into his flabby face. “But alas, your husband, being the genius he is, has brilliantly formulated how we may benefit from such a...tragedy. And best of all, it shall all be done in one evening. This spectacular event shall be one for the ages.” Her patience wearing thin with the little man’s long-winded ramblings, her attention drifted back to her husband.
Taking a long gulp of his wine, Milo barely spared her a glance before lifting an apple from his bowl, then turning it in the air, as if not trusting its freshness. “What Dengar is trying to say,” he said, one eye squinting suspiciously at the fruit, “is that more coin right now is more important than a sustained source of currency in the coming years.” He finally took a bite, then gazed at her blankly as he chewed.
“That makes no sense,” she spoke softly, barely able to keep the growing anger from her voice. “What reason could we possibly have—”
“Dark times these are indeed, my dear,” he said casually. Despite his soft tone, there was a dangerous hint of a growing temper beneath his words. It was probably best to let him finish this time before speaking her mind again. “As we’ve already discussed at length, you know what’s happening in the rest of the realm. Random attacks by these ‘ash men’ have practically brought our neighboring economies to a standstill. Folks are more worried about their own lives than spending coin. To be blunt, I’m more concerned about the present than what looks to be a rather bleak future.
“What will be the point of having that beast fight for us six months or a year from now if the entire realm is under siege and all flow of money has come to a halt? I believe that if things keep progressing as they have, then there very well might not be a future for any of us. So what I propose is this: A final tournament billed as the greatest challenge that beast has ever faced. The odds will be so insurmountable, that by all rights he probably won’t survive.
“We’ll spread the word near and far, then charge outlandish fees to witness this spectacle. Essentially, I’ll be cashing in all of Shadowfen’s resources at once. If these ‘ash folk’ continue their reign of terror on this world, by power of currency alone we should be the last ones standing. We’ll have the coin to hire mercenaries if need be, and possibly even bribe these creatures to leave us untouched. My plan gives us options not afforded to our neighboring cities, and it protects against the worst-case scenario.”
Bella sat in silence for a time. Once again her mad husband had displayed his brilliant, practical thinking despite possessing an irreparably broken mind. His logic was sound. This move could ensure Shadowfen’s chances of riding out this storm—if it even had an end. Still, the thought of losing her true love to a business proposition, no matter how sound his proposal was, tore her apart from the inside. There simply had to be another way.
“And what if he survives your blatant attempt to murder him for the greater good?” she asked plainly. “He’s faced impossible odds before and still came out the victor. No matter what you throw at the creature, betting against him is foolhardy at best.”
Milo watched her thoughtfully, his ringed finger clanking against his glass with a steady rhythm. “I see the beast has captured your heart,” he said. She stiffened, alert, realizing just now how easy she had been to read. Her mind raced, searching for some sort of deflective statement that might take the focus off her true feelings for Jarlen. “Which is why I love her so,” said the king, raising his glass in the air. Around the table, wine glasses were raised in toast.
“Whether it be a wounded bird or a stray cat, your queen feels affection for even the lowliest of creatures,” the king declared. Glasses clinked to chants of “hear, hear!” After the gathered people’s glasses had been drained in a single gulp, the king continued, “But as for your question, my dear, you are indeed correct. If he somehow survives the tournament, it will be nothing short of a miracle. But more importantly, the people will see that as well. All the better, I say, for we shall just have to do it again, then again, and again after that.” Never taking his eyes off her, he poured himself another glass of wine. “But you must understand, my love, that sooner or later...you will watch him perish.” His toothy grin made her skin crawl.
*
With Shadowfen still several days’ ride away, the group continued their slow push through the forest. The passing days were mostly uneventful. Viola had gone back to reading her books while riding as Owen pushed his beast through the overgrown brush, providing a moderately clear path for the others. No longer needing to rely on Thatra’s keen sense of direction, Liam put himself in charge of the map. Even though they were staying off the roads, it still proved useful as a general tool to keep them moving in the right direction. Better to move slowly under cover of the forest, than to shave off a few days’ ride while exposing themselves on the open road.
The group had developed a routine for the evenings. Xavier set up camp while Viola tended to the horses. Liam and Thatra built a fire, throwing together a small meal for the group while Owen tested out a nearby tree. Leaning against it, he declared his job was making sure it was comfortable enough in case someone else chose to lean against it. After the modest meal of aging potatoes and quickly hardening jerky, Thatra and Viola would engage in their nightly sparring sessions.
By this time, Thatra had decided that Viola was ready to use a real sword. It was important she get used to the feel and weight of a real blade in her hands. Viola wasn’t very strong, and she struggled with the weight of it, but she was a good student who absorbed every detail. Her speed and agility were improving by the day, but it was her clear understanding of proper technique that impressed Thatra the most. She rarely needed to be shown anything twice.
This evening was no different. With the city now only a day’s ride away, tonight was probably the last session the two of them would have for some time. Viola had improved considerably as far as basic techniques were concerned. Tonight, Thatra’s intent was to test the level of those improvements.
The two faced off, each with their weapons lowered, points sunk into the dirt. As usual, the men gathered round to watch. Thatra’s nose crinkled, her startled gaze drifting just over Viola’s left shoulder. Viola glanced back just as Thatra’s blade fired up in a streaking flash. A shrill ringing noise was heard as Viola lifted her blade just in time. Thatra had struck with the broad side of her blade so it wouldn’t have cut her even if it had connected, but there was little doubt Viola would be taking a nap had the hard blow landed.
“Good,” said Thatra, clearly impressed with the block. Viola’s reflexes were more sharp, and her instincts seemed to take over when necessary. “Many would have fallen for that ancient trick.”
“But I did fall for it,” Viola admitted, backing away to regroup. Although she had blocked successfully, it left her holding her blade with an awkward, reversed grip. It was another thing she had learned during their training. If she found she was susceptible to a counterattack, she knew to create distance and reset. Before, it had been one action, one counter action. Now she was able to think three or four moves ahead, as well as recognize when she was vulnerable. “But I was quick enough to recover. I suppose I don’t blame you for trying such a desperate trick. You’re obviously afraid of what I might do to you in a fair session.”
Thatra opened her mouth to laugh, but ended up misdirecting a fierce three-strike combo streaking towards her head. Seconds after deceiving Viola, the younger girl had basically used the same trick on her. Her milky, white eyes went wide. “Good,” Thatra repeated, disengaging with a push. “You never cease to amaze me.” They circled each other, measuring, assessing, trying to predict the other’s next move. “Four!” she grunted, stepping in with her blade high.
High slash, side, low, side; Viola’s blade intercepted each str
ike with a ringing crash. The blows were fast and heavy, but she managed to keep hold of her sword. There was a time when any of those strikes would have sent her blade tumbling from her numb hand, but her grip had grown stronger. She was more capable, confident, and now had some experience with these drills—not to mention a pair of calloused hands to prove the work she had put in.
“Two, counter, single,” Thatra barked, her blade already in motion. It exploded high, Viola clipping its trajectory in a spray of sparks, then whirled back the other way, crashing solidly against a perfectly positioned sword. Viola countered, her blade not moving nearly as fast as Thatra’s, yet her placement flawless. Slashing sideways at shoulder height, the blow was neither high nor low. Thatra’s parry was awkward, her sword tip facing down while her elbows shrugged up to her ears. Her body was so bent out of position that her return strike was more of a fumbling jab. Viola easily slapped the point down, nearly dislodging the sword from her hand.
Thatra grinned, amazed by her student’s pinpoint accuracy. Even three days ago Viola could not have done that. But over the last two days she had done it consistently, proving it was no fluke. “Four, counter two, triple,” the tarrin said breathlessly. The high-paced session was beginning to take its toll on both combatants. Viola deflected four high strikes firing at her head from each side. She countered with a similar head slash. When the strike struck steel, she rolled her wrist, bringing the blade straight up in a sweeping uppercut. She had practiced that often on her own, but had never tried it in a real drill until now.
Sidestepping the upward slash, Thatra fired back, her blade coming straight down. Viola intercepted, then lowered her blade to the side to take on the follow-up side slash. Blade gripped tightly, her breathing heavy as sweat dripped from the tip of her nose, Viola looked confused. “I thought you said four, counter two, tripl—” In a desperate reaction, she dropped straight to the ground as the broad side of Thatra’s blade soared over her head, missing only by a matter of inches. And that final delayed strike completed the triple.
“Why, yes, I did,” chuckled Thatra, her hands dropping to her knees as she bent down to suck air. She was exhausted. They both were. “But I suppose I wasn’t clear about how much time I would use to complete the triple. It’s not my fault you misinterpreted.”
“Dirty,” Viola accused playfully.
“Resourceful,” Thatra corrected, holding up a finger.
“Deceitful.”
“Creative.”
“And I believe you are both correct,” said Liam, walking up to the kneeling girls, who were both exhausted and breathing hard. “Therefore, I’ve decided I no longer like, or trust, either of you.” He lowered a hand to each of their shoulders as they laughed. “But seriously, if I may, I would like to take over the rest of today’s session, if that is all right with the two of you.”
Thatra nodded, relieved to get a little extra rest for a change. Viola’s conditioning wasn’t superior to her own, but her student seemed to like to push things until her body had reached its limits. These nightly bouts had proved to be quite grueling at times.
“And you?” Liam asked, turning to Viola. “You’re not afraid of an old man, are you?”
“Hardly,” she said, hopping up off her knees. She blew out a breath, then whirled her sword around in a sweeping circle. “I promise I’ll go easy on you. Wouldn’t want you throwing out your back or having a heart attack.”
“I would mind my tongue if I were you,” he said, drawing his blade with impossible speed. Viola blinked, then felt the coolness of steel pressed against the side of her neck. True, she had improved greatly as of late, but what made her think she was anywhere near the level of this former soldier? The simple act of drawing a sword quickly was a basic, practical move, one the veteran had practiced tens of thousands of times throughout the years. Smooth and with deceptive speed, he made the maneuver look effortless.
“I assure you my back feels just fine,” he said with a wink.
Hands up in surrender, she released her blade, letting it fall to the ground. She felt foolish.
Liam glanced at the sword and smiled. “Not bad for an old man, eh? Besides, you won’t be needing that, anyway. Tonight, you and I are going to focus on something a little different.” He removed the sword from her neck and gave it a twirl. “One must be able to defend themselves at all times, no matter the situation.”
“That’s why I’m working so hard,” she said, rubbing her neck.
“There may come a time when you don’t have a weapon handy.” He eyed the sword on the ground once more, than glanced at his own. “Then what will you do?” She shrugged, not exactly sure what he was getting at. “Luckily, you seem to have abilities that pureblooded humans like myself can only dream of.” He traced his blade down the side of her arm. “My dear, you are a weapon, and perhaps it’s time you learned to harness that innate power of yours.”
She stepped back, lowering her head as she rubbed her elbow. The topic obviously made her uncomfortable. “I don’t know why that happens,” she mumbled, sounding ashamed. “It’s not something I do on purpose, it just happens. I wish it didn’t.”
“But it does happen,” he stated plainly. “And I think it’s best we stop ignoring what we know to be true.” Without thinking, his hand brushed the side of his neck as he remembered the incident all too well. “Let’s think about this another way,” he continued, tapping his chin as he paced away from her. “I’m not asking you to learn how to be a weapon, I just think you should learn to control your body. That’s all. You don’t want to hurt anyone, correct?” She shook her head. “Then the sooner you learn to control this ability, the sooner you will no longer have to worry about accidently hurting one of us, or even yourself. I think putting this off any longer is simply irresponsible. Don’t you agree?”
Viola sighed, shoulders slumping. She knew he was right, but still wasn’t comfortable with the idea. A quick glance over to the others reminded her why. Her eyes met Xavier’s for a fleeting moment before she had to look away.
This wasn’t just about learning to control a wild, dangerous ability that needed to be restrained at the very least. Once again she was going to actively expose something that made her different from the others. There was nothing human about her arms changing into blades capable of slicing someone to pieces. It was an alien ability that she couldn’t explain. She would rather concentrate on the things they had in common, not the traits that made her a freak.
“Viola, are you all right?” Liam asked.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “What do you want me to do first?”
“Yes, well...” he grumbled, his voice trailing off into a string of incoherent gibberish. In truth, he hadn’t really thought this part through. It wasn’t as if he was teaching his mastered proficiency to another. In this particular case, neither the student nor the teacher really understood how this skill worked. He paced some more, twisting his white mustache as he thought to himself.
He tried to remember each time he’d seen her execute this wondrous action. What did each of those instances have in common? He stopped pacing and glanced in her direction. Forgive me, my dear... He lunged with a roar, his blade streaking towards her head. Stunned, horrified, she shrieked, hands coming up to her face in defense. When his blade struck, it was with the flat side and with very little power behind the blow. He could have stopped if need be, but it didn’t matter. Her bladed arms had shielded the soft blow.
“Ah ha!” he shouted triumphantly. “Just as I suspected, the reaction is at least partially involuntary. It’s a defense mechanism your body does on its own.”
With bladed arms crossed over her face, Viola’s lower lip began to quiver. She looked away, her shoulders shaking with heavy sobs.
“I-I didn’t mean to frighten you, dear.” Still unable to look at him, her crying only increased. “I-I’m sorry, Viola, but I had to test my theory. It was correct! We learned something of your ability today. Isn’t that exciting?”
A strong hand grabbed him by the arm, practically dragging him as it led him several feet away. He was spun about and found himself staring into a pair of very angry white eyes. “You stupid old fool,” Thatra hissed.
“What is the matter with you?” Liam asked, pulling free of her iron grasp before brushing himself off.
“Were you born an old man, or have you entirely forgotten what it was like to be young?” she asked. He shrugged, still having no idea what had enraged the tarrin so.
“I know your calculating mind sees the world in black and white. There will always be a theory that needs testing, or more knowledge to be gained from a race or culture that is different from your own.” The anger in her voice softened a bit. “You are brilliant in your own right, and possibly the most nonjudgmental human I’ve ever met. Still...not every person in your life should be viewed as a test subject. I swear, sometimes you just can’t see what’s right in front of your face.
“Viola knows she’s different. She doesn’t need to be reminded on a daily basis. Don’t you see? You embarrassed her in front of Xavier, all in the name of science. Well, I hope you got the answers you were seeking. Next time, perhaps you should hang her upside down from a tree and poke her with hot coals. Feel free to document all the results, because her feelings are obviously unimportant to you.”
Before Liam could say a word, she turned away and marched back to Viola. Kneeling down beside her, Thatra appeared to be offering words of comfort. Wiping a tear from her cheek, Viola just nodded in response.
Feeling helpless, the old man sighed as he looked on. You’re correct, Thatra. I am a stupid old fool. How could I be so ignorant?
Later that evening, it was time to lie down for the night. If they started early enough, they would probably reach Shadowfen by noon. It was a little cooler this evening than it had been, so Xavier was reluctant to stomp out the fire. The glowing embers provided a mild warmth, and their soft glow was a welcome change from the black of night. Liam watched from a nearby tree as Xavier and Viola engaged in a soft sparring session near the fire. Their blades moved slowly, touching twice at a high angle before sweeping down low with a light clang. They laughed, obviously using the relaxed training session as an excuse to interact.