Blood Red
The Relissarium Wars Space Opera Series, Book 2
Andrew C Broderick
Copyright © 2018 by Andrew C Broderick
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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One
“Give me five more!” Hojae barked at Theo. The Josti stood in front of him, a shield in one hand and a wooden sword in the other.
Theo lifted his thin metal helm, to wipe away the sweat from his eyes. “It’s only my second week! Give me a chance to catch my breath!”
“Your second week? How could I forget?” Hoaje softened his voice to give Theo a momentary glimpse of hope, before snapping back into his drill-sergeant demeanor. “If it’s your second week, you should be able to give me ten more!”
Theo groaned. When the Carbonari masters had told him Hojae would be leading his training, he had thought it would be more like two friends sparring off. He couldn’t have been more wrong. “You know, I think I liked it better when you only used two arms.”
“Oh? Would you like to go back to that?”
Hojae tucked his two lower arms behind his back, and charged at Theo. His wooden training sword plummeted down in full force. Theo’s arms ached, but he tried to counter the blow. His breath came in strenuous puffs, but he managed to keep the Josti’s sword braced against his own. A cocky smile spread across Theo’s face, but it was short lived. In the space of a heartbeat, Hojae pulled out is lower limbs and delivered a quick series of jabs and cross punches to Theo’s midsection.
Theo crumpled to the ground, clutching his ribs. “Hey!”
“On the battlefield, do not expect your opponent to fight fair! Expect the unexpected. Now get up. You still owe me ten more.” Hojae twirled the wooden sword over his head. He began to circle around, as if stalking his prey. With the protective helm on, the Josti appeared to be some sort of demon from hell.
Theo struggled to his feet. It was always awkward to stand back up after he had been knocked down. The armor padding he was wearing made him ungainly. The extra weight made it harder to move, and the heat that it trapped in drenched him with sweat. It would be so much easier to move without the restrictive armor plating. The Carbonari never wore it in battle, so why did he have to train in it? “You wear it so I can hit you as hard as I like, and not bash your brains into your skull!” Hojae’s voice still rung in his ears. The purple bruise on Theo’s back ached with the memory.
“I still don’t understand the need to learn to use a shield.” Theo managed to throw up a block, intercepting another strike from the Josti. “These things aren’t as big as the ones I saw the militia use.”
“It gives you a sense of situational awareness.” Hojae circled around Theo, and looked for an opening. His eyes were bright and keen. Noticing Theo following his movements, Hojae looked down. Theo followed to see if his opponent found some opening. Before Theo looked back up, Hojae popped him in the face grille with a hard whack. Theo was knocked to the ground.
Theo sucked in a sharp breath. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing. He should have seen that coming. Exhaustion was fogging his mind, and slowing down his reflexes. Theo stood up, and dusted himself off.
“See? Situational awareness. You were concentrating so much on me that you let me fake you out. What I did was an old trick. You need to learn your opponent’s body language.” Hojae moved back for another round. A satisfied smile lit up his demonically shrouded face. For a moment, Theo wished he could get close enough to knock both the helm and the smile off of his teacher’s face.
Cherish broke up their training session. “Hojae, why don’t you let Cierra and I work with him for a while? I know you like beating him up, but he needs to learn from different people. There won’t be only one fighting style in the field.”
“Well and good.” Hojae nodded. He unsnapped his helm, and pulled it off. He turned to Theo, who’d managed to wipe most of the sweat from his face. Trails of dust turned to mud along his cheeks and forehead. “Remember what I told you about being alone in space.” Hojae picked up his gear and walked back toward the main hall.
“What did he mean by that?” Cherish cast a curious glance at her retreating teammate.
Theo was glad to have a moment to breathe. “I’m not sure. Something about not having anyone around to help you. I made the mistake of telling him, last week, that I wouldn’t have to worry so much during my first time out because there would be plenty of the Brotherhood around me. I still have the bruise on my arm he gave me for that remark.” He winced, and lifted his injured arm.
“At least you didn’t challenge him to hit you somewhere.” Cierra snorted and rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen the results from that, and it’s not pretty.”
“Cierra, you go a few rounds with him. Let me watch. I’ll see if I can tell Theo what he’s doing wrong.” Both women were armored up to fight. Cherish stepped back a few paces to give them room to spar.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” Theo readied himself on the practice field. He was close to the same height as Cierra, but he still had reservations about striking a woman. In his former life, being a wife beater was the worst thing anyone could say about a man.
She scoffed under her breath. “After training with Hojae, I’m surprised you’re able to think anything at all. We had a bet going about whether or not you would have brain damage.”
“Oh, yeah? I bet you made a killing off of that one.”
Cierra shrugged her shoulders. “Not really. I didn’t think you’d last two days.” She watched the shock of her words roll over his face. “Now, what was your idea?”
Theo glared at her, but he continued his thought. “Why don’t we make this interesting? If I win, you tell me what planet we are on, and if you win, you still tell me what planet we’re on.”
“Ha! Not a chance. If the masters wanted you to know where we were, they would have told you. You can suffer with not knowing, just like the rest of the first-degree recruits. Now, quit stalling. We’ve got a fight to do.”
Theo followed Cierra’s patterns. His eyes narrowed, as he tried to remember the important lessons Hojae had taught him. There were so many things to remember: footing, stance, situational awareness. He ticked them off one by one in his mind. Hojae had assured him that eventually it would all come naturally, as his body gained muscle memory. It was just going to take time. Cierra looked over her shield and tried to lure him into range. Theo saw an opening. Excitedly, he stepped forward with his arm cranked back, ready to strike.
His blow was cut short. Cierra hit him directly in the face with a thrust that pushed the grille into his nose. Theo staggered backwards. He wasn’t expecting her to exert so much force. The impact didn’t break the skin. His pride, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky.
Cherish tilted her head to the side. “You seem to have issues with concentration.”
Theo retreated and leaned against his weapon. The wooden point dug into the ground. His eyes narrowed angrily at Cierra. “Let’s go again.”
The two women exchanged a glance. Cherish tried to soften her voice. “Would you like to sit down for a while? You’ve stressed yourself to the point where you can’t focus on the fight anymore. An advanced swordsman will know how to take advantage of your problem. I’ve seen skilled sword fighters allow their opponents to wear themselves out to the point of exhaustion. Then they close in for the kill. Maybe you should take a break and regroup your thoughts.”
“No!” Theo snapped at her in frustration. “I am perfectly able to
handle myself.” He was still breathing hard from the workout. His body dripped with sweat. He knew he was only frustrated with himself. It was making him lash out at the others even though they were only trying to help. Even though he realized the source of his frustration, he was unable to restrain his temper.
“Fine.” Cherish placed her hands on her hips curtly. “Make ready, and prepare.” Cierra raised her shield at the command.
Theo faced off against her one more time. He was determined not to appear to be a fool this time. She might be able to hit him with a thrust but, this time, Cierra would pay for her victory. Theo intended to inflict as much damage as possible, before he went down. No more one-shots. This fight was going to be a fight for the record books.
He watched as Cierra struck her own shield hard with the wooden sword. It made a loud crack that echoed around the training field.
The space was theirs. Although there were other Carbonari students who were learning the way of the blade, the Brotherhood wouldn’t allow him to train with them. Theo was considered too new. The group classes were only for the advanced students who’d taken the third degree. Even though that was the reason they gave him to keep him separate from the rest of the recruits, Theo was certain the unspoken reason was because the trainers didn’t trust him yet.
Theo rushed at Cierra, and tried a surprise attack. She rolled out of it, and left him alone. Theo pulled back. He realized Cierra could’ve hit him with ease. She’d allowed him to continue, just to see what Theo might do. The realization fueled the anger, bellowing in his belly.
He cranked his sword arm back, ready to strike with all of his remaining strength reserves. Then, it occurred to Theo that was exactly what Cierra expected. He backed up a bit and tried to see through her plan of action. Theo realized her slight shield drop was only to lure him into position. This was one of the “fakes” that Hojae had told him to watch out for today. Theo hadn’t known anything about the ranking system among the Carbonari sword fighters. Judging by what he was seeing now, Cierra must have been one of the higher ones.
He decided to try a pattern of strikes against her. By now, Theo realized the first blow wasn’t usually the one that hit the target. The first blow might instead be used to set up another one. It could force the opponent into a vulnerable position. He decided to try a combination of three different strikes, and see what worked.
Theo rushed in again. He fired one blow across her body. It was strategically aimed at an opening he saw in Cierra’s defense. She blocked that one with her shield. He bent the sword’s momentum. It was propelled over his face, right at her arm. When Cierra moved out of the way, Theo whipped the blow up, on a direct path to her helm.
He sucked in a breath, anticipating his victory, but Cierra ducked under the blow. Theo’s wooden sword flew over the space where Cierra’s head had been and kept going. This time, the speed of his strike was so great that the practice sword flew out of his hand. It landed on the ground, bouncing end over end. He stared at his weapon, dumbfoundedly. Disarmed, Theo stood there, and tried not to show his frustration.
The inner voice that always doubted him whispered that, once again, he had failed. It occurred to him that maybe his aggravation was linked to more than just the sparring. If he couldn’t even wield a wooden sword effectively, how could he have ever thought that he could have protected his family? He couldn’t fight now, and he couldn’t have saved Mari and the kids then.
“Don’t you two have better things to do than waste your time here?” Makram’s voice boomed from behind Theo. He was jolted back to the present. Theo looked around. Makram was sitting on a stone bench. In the heat of training, Theo hadn’t even heard Makram arrive. Hojae would have no doubt berated him for not being more aware of his surroundings.
“We need to get Theo up to speed.” Cierra’s voice was muffled through her helm. “The Grand Council wants him along on the next mission. I can’t have him there with us if he’ll be killed the first time out.” Her words stung the remaining slivers of Theo’s pride, but he said nothing.
“I’d worry more about the rest of the team,” Makram snorted. “Are you serious? Does the council really want us to take a newbie along the next time? Holy Batumah, this one didn’t hold a sword until last week. It sounds like a suicide mission. Having him along will get all of us killed.”
Cherish tossed her head towards him. Her tone made it obvious that she was tired of listening to his negativity. “Oh, shut up, Makram. You’re just pissed because you’re going to be the one in charge. You don’t want the responsibility of an inexperienced brother messing up your spotless record.”
“Excuse me? Did you say Makram is in charge of the team?” Cierra crossed her arms, over her chest indignantly.
“Orders came through this morning,” Cherish answered. “Go down to the main hall, have a look at the duty roster. He’s officially the commander of Strike Force Retaliation. I thought you knew.”
Cierra was speechless. She ground her teeth. Sarcasm coated her words. “Now, this is funny. Mr. Perfect finally gets a job with responsibility, and it’s over this mess.” She gestured to Theo, who was still standing awkwardly without his sword. “Guess you pissed off the wrong senior brother.”
“I think it had more to do with his recommendation of me as the next commander.” Cherish watched, as Makram flinched. “Yeah, I bet you didn’t think I’d find out about that one. Thanks for trying to throw me under the bus.”
“So, who is sub-commander?” Cierra pulled off her helm, and set it on the ground.
Cherish grinned mischievously, but Theo thought he detected a hint of pride as well. “You did such a good job last time, they’re letting you keep that position.”
“Oh, this is wonderful,” Cierra rolled her eyes. Her words were dripping with thinly-veiled scorn. “I get to serve under Brother Makram.”
Makram raised his eyebrow at her, pointedly. “If it’s any help, I’m not thrilled about this relationship, either. Guess we’ll have to make the best of it.”
All the while, Theo stood there in silence. He tried to figure out where he fit into the current arrangement. How was he going to be able to support the rest of the group? He’d yet to learn the basics of swordplay. He couldn’t blame them for seeing him as holding them back. If anything, it probably felt like a babysitting job to them.
“The problem with Theo,” Makram said, as he got up from the bench, “is that he’s spent too much time on the essentials.” Theo noticed there was a helm on the bench next to Makram. Something about the cockiness in the new commander’s gait made Theo wary.
“I think Theo needs some advanced training. I’d like to see what he’s got. I might have to count on him as back-up in a real scenario.” Makram slapped the helm onto his head and secured it in place. Even with the helm on, Theo could see the taunting look in Makram’s eyes.
Cherish was immediately on edge. She stepped forward to block his path. “Makram, I think you’re going too far. I don’t need him injured, if that’s what you have in mind.”
“Relax.” Makram waved her off. “I promise not to hurt the puppy, alright? Can’t have a green recruit damaged this early in training. I just want to see what he’s got inside, before I have to count on him.” Theo noted that Makram wore a full set of practice armor. He’d come ready to play.
Cierra caught Theo’s eye. She jerked her head towards the ground a few feet away. He followed her gaze to his abandoned practice sword. Theo started to walk towards it. Makram saw what he was going for, and quickly changed the plan.
Makram raised his voice to stop Theo from picking up the wooden sword. “You know what? Let’s not use these fake weapons. I think you should learn with live metal, because you’ll have to rely on it on the battlefield. You might as well get a feel for the real thing.”
Makram reached down below the bench he had been sitting on, and pulled up two metal bastard swords. Each was forty inches in length, and had a ricasso grip above the cross guards. The g
rip extended four inches above the guard. They were a matched set, built for tournaments. He tossed one of the swords on the ground at Theo. Theo kept his eyes locked on Makram as he squatted down to pick it up. The sword felt heavy and awkward in his hand. Theo tossed his shield over on top of his practice sword. He gave a few sweeping swings with the new blade. Soon, his hands were accustomed to the new weight. It was a solid sword. Though it appeared rough on first glance, Theo noticed that it was actually well balanced.
“That’s an infintium blade! Why are you giving him one of those?” Cierra cried out in concern as she recognized the metal.
Makram dropped his blade into a low guard and faced off with Theo. “Relax. They’re not edged. Do you think I’m stupid enough to use a sharp blade against a new recruit? I don’t need to lose a hand just because someone panicked.” He slowly moved into range against Theo.
“Hojae show you how to use one of these, kid?” Makram kept his blade at the ready. Theo could feel Makram’s crooked smile behind his helm.
“A few times.” Theo answered quickly, but then embarrassedly amended his reply. “With wooden ones.”
“Time to swim in the deep end. Oh, and watch out for the sharks.” He snickered at the new recruit.
Makram was close to Theo’s size and age, but he held the sword with experience. It was as if the blade was an old companion, or an extension of himself. Theo knew Makram’s entire strategy was to humiliate him. He tried hard to remember everything Hojae told him, about fighting with one of these weapons. Don’t walk into a trap. It’s not hard, and it’s not magic. Pay attention. Every blow has to have a defense built into it, and every defense needs to have a blow ready to fire back.
He watched as Makram brought his sword up, and aimed the tip at Theo’s face. It was obvious to Theo what his opponent wanted to do: make him concentrate on the point. Theo remembered enough to focus on the position of the blade, and the man who wielded it. Hojae said that he could tell a lot about a man by the way he stood and held the blade. It would be a long time before Theo was as proficient at reading his opponents as Hojae was, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t try.
Blood Red Page 1