by Elliot Burns
The recruits offered no reply. They seemed well used to such dressings-down.
“You droop-dicks look all too fresh for my liking. Come on, it’s past noon. You should be sweating more than a tacher in a brothel. Laps around the Troop, all of you. Full armor and gear. And then, those cow-fuckers of you that manage to make it back, can spar.”
“She seems like a delight,” said Mav.
Jack had learned from General Bordan that he needed to be more cynical in the way he assessed people. He found that he didn’t trust Sarna. There was something harsh about her; a sharpness that he sensed would cut him if he got too close. Jack quickly changed his opinion of her. He wasn’t in love, anymore. He was scared.
Mav looked across the training yard, away from Sarna and her men. He was staring intently at a group of men sparring with oak swords and bucklers. “Well, bugger me with a goblin sword,” he said.
“What is it?” asked Jack.
No sooner had he asked the question, then Mav left them and went across the yard at full sprint. He crossed it with a speed that belied his advancing years and soon was too far away to hear Jack’s calls.
“What’s he doing?” asked Jack.
Elena shrugged her shoulders.
Mav marched up to a unit of soldiers in the distance. He grabbed one by the shoulders and spun him around. The man seemed alarmed at first. He and Mav began speaking to one another. Jack couldn’t say for sure, but it seemed quite heated.
“An old friend, perhaps,” said Elena.
Sarna’s unit of men had suited up into full battle leathers. One of them, the youngest by the looks of things, struggled to fasten his chest piece.
“Hurry up, damn it,” said one of his fellow soldiers. “Sarna will gut you.”
“I’ll handle this,” said Sarna, marching up to the young man. The rest of the soldiers scattered and began their laps around the yard. Some cast worried looks at the soldier, sympathetic about the rollicking he was about to get.
Sarna’s face was pure thunder. Even Jack was nervous about the rebuke this poor soldier was about to receive. She was just a foot away from the recruit now. When she saw that the rest of the men were running their laps, her expression changed. She quickly helped the young man fasten his armor. She gave him a pat on the shoulder.
“Don’t ever tell anyone I did this, okay? Next thing you know, every fucker will expect me to dress them. Do your laps, then get over to Verwin and have him adjust it. Tell him to put it on my expense account.”
With her men running in a circle around the training yard, Sarna finally focused on Jack and his party. Jack stood under her gaze and found himself puffing out his chest on her approach.
“I don’t normally have recruits greener than a goblin’s tits,” said Sarna, “but that one’s an orphan. Couldn’t stand to see him struggling. Anyway, what do you dickheads want?”
Jack realized it was his turn to speak. “We thought you might be interested in offering us your services.”
“The flower gardens are 20 miles east of here. Think you’ve taken a wrong turn, M'lady.”
“Bordan said we should talk to you.”
“I’m not much of a conversationalist, as that lot will tell you. Looking to join the troop?”
“Actually, I’m here to hire. I’m looking for a commander.”
“And who might you be?” asked Sarna.
“Jack Halberd.”
Elena gave him a subtle prod.
“Lord Halbert, of Castle Halberd,” he corrected. Then he thought, ‘what the hell?’ and decided to toss in another title for good measure. “Warden of Holuum.”
“Castle Halberd? That’s the run-down wreck a day’s ride from here, isn’t it?”
“I need someone to lead my army. Well, the army I plan to build, anyway,” said Jack.
Sarna put her hand to her chin. “I could shoot a flea off a cow’s rump with a child’s bow and one eye closed. You look like you’d miss the cistern with a stream of piss. You might have flek, but why would I serve a lord who doesn’t know a scabbard from a great sword? You do have a lovely head of hair, though. And a nice arse. Which is more than I can say for the usual slack-balled nobles who come here.”
“Aren’t you looking for work?” asked Jack.
“It’s true I don’t plan to stay here training this sorry lot until my hair grows grey. But no offense, nice arse, but I’m holding out for something better.”
She certainly had a way with words, that was for sure. Jack could see why her recruits were so nervous around her. He had no doubt that she could instill discipline in an army, but could she command one? And would she do it for a bargain-basement price?
“Bordan says they call you the Blade Maiden,” he said.
“They call me lots of things. The fact is, most of them are jealous that I could take them on one-handed.”
Mav returned from his trip across the yard. He offered no explanation for his jaunt, and Jack decided that now wasn’t the time to ask. Instead, he spoke to Sarna. “I’m offering you a prominent position, Sarna. Not just an officer post, but as commander of the Halberd army.”
“Let’s get serious, then, shall we? What do you actually have? How many trebuchets have you made?”
“None.”
“And your cavalry unit? Give me numbers.”
“…None.”
She grinned. “So, you want me to come and command an invisible army? Sorry, Lord Halberd, but you and your luscious locks need to find another chump.”
So, he’d persuaded General Bordan to let them recruit officers from the Golden troop, only to get shot down by the only one he had a chance at being able to afford. He hadn’t ridden a day and half just to leave here empty handed.
He focused his gaze on Sarna. He imagined her accepting his offer. Then, as an added extra, he imagined her thanking him for the opportunity. With this image in mind, he used his Trueword.
“Verso,” he said.
He waited for his new Trueword to take effect. Unfortunately, the look on Sarna’s face showed that it hadn’t had the desired effect.
“You think you can use your Trueword crap on me?” she said. “My father employed a tacher, you know. I can resist fancy mind tricks.”
Truespeech failed!
He needed to persuade her somehow, but his skills weren’t working. Short of building up his army to Sarna’s required standard, what could he do?
As he pondered this, he noticed eight soldiers walking toward them from across the training yard. Their approach was so sudden that Jack had no clue where they had come from. They certainly weren’t part of Sarna’s unit. Instead of tight leathers, they wore dull metal chest plates and gauntlets. He couldn’t help feeling suspicious.
“We’re having a conversation here,” Sarna told the soldiers as they got closer. “Go and pick daisies elsewhere.”
The soldiers walked closer.
“Are you deaf? Have the peas that count for your brains rolled into your ears? We’re talking. Piss off.”
When they were just a few feet away, the eight men began to disperse. They each walked into position so that they surrounded Sarna, Jack, Elena, and Johnson. Every instinct in Jack’s body told him to draw his dagger, yet he didn’t. The last thing he needed was to start a fight with Bordan’s men.
The eight men, however, had no such concerns holding them back. One of them, taller than the rest and with lank, black hair, nodded. There was a whisper of metal as eight swords were drawn from eight sheaths.
Sarna recognized the danger quicker than the rest of them. “Let’s see your colors then, you craven hussies,” she said, and then raised her weapon.
Jack had never seen anything like Sarna’s weapon. It had two curved blades that were joined in the middle by an ivory handle. They looked so sharp that Jack felt like he’d been cut just by looking at them. Words were engraved on the metal, and they had a purple glow around them. A handle of spiked brass knuckles was attached to one side of the ivory
centerpiece.
“I hope you can fight, Lord Halberd,” said Sarna. “The Troop has been breached. It’s eight against four.”
One of the enemy soldiers grinned as if he took delight in hearing his favorable odds. “The Maiden can count,” he said.
“Who are these guys?” asked Jack.
“No idea, but they aren’t from the Troop. Backs together,” said Sarna. “Cover all angles.”
Jack wanted an explanation, but this wasn’t the time for it. His heart rate doubled as he realized this wasn’t a joke or a training exercise. These men, whoever they were, had somehow gotten into the Golden Troop and had come straight for Jack. He knew they were here for him.
“Shatterblades,” said Mav. “These guys must be batshit crazy.”
Jack hadn’t noticed it until now, but there was something unusual about the men’s swords. As he stared at them, he recognized what they were. He’d seen a drawing of one in his uncle’s notebooks. They were shatterblades. They were designed so that on impact, metal would splinter off, and jagged pieces of it would bury into the skin. They were almost never used. Without enough training, they were just as dangerous for the wielder as they were for the victim.
Sarna looked at Johnson. “Go and fetch my unit. Now.”
There was a gap to Johnson’s left which their enemy’s circle of men didn’t fill. The soldier darted into it, aiming toward the other end of the yard where Sarna’s men were on their laps. He took only a few steps before crying out in pain and then falling onto the ground. The air around him shimmered.
“A shimmer-wall,” said Sarna. “It reflects back what you expect to see. That means nobody outside it can see us.”
“Exactly,” said the man with the black hair. “So, as you can see; you are quite alone, and quite fucked.”
“Guys,” said Jack. “Whoever is paying you, we can pay more. Surely we can make a deal here?”
The man ignored him. He seemed content to let the gravity of the situation sink into Jack and his party.
“Shimmer walls and shatterblades,” said Sarna. “That shit is expensive. Whoever our new friends are, they have backers with flek coming out of their arses.”
The black-haired man nodded at his unit, and together they closed in.
They were outnumbered, outmatched, and trapped. There would be nothing for it but to fight. Jack gripped his dagger tightly, but then remembered his training with Mav and forced himself to loosen up. The thief adopted a steel baroque stance, patient and poised to strike. Jack tried to do the same, though his own steel baroque stance wasn’t nearly as graceful as Mav’s.
Elena uncoiled the blade of her urumi from around her waist, pulled the handle out from a loop and held it as a whip. The metal moved as if it were made of thin leather, yet with one flick of Elena's wrist, it could trim the fur off a wolf. Jack wouldn't have liked to have faced it.
The first man approached with his shatterblade held high. Elena instinctively moved in front of Jack to protect him. She whipped out with her urumi, but the man stepped back to avoid a lashing. The tip of the blade sung across his metal armor.
Jack turned to see another fighter approaching, and it took him just three steps to get with striking distance. Jack used smoke twist to get out of the way. He felt his body turn to mist, and his mana seeped out of him.
60 mana lost
Total: 277/337
Smoke twist wasn’t cheap, that was for sure! At sixty mana points per use, he needed to be careful with it. The last thing he wanted to do was to use all his mana twisting away from blows and leave nothing for his other powers.
Once he was a safe distance away, he resumed his usual form. Just as the smoke left him, he felt an arm grab him. Jack tried to shrug him off. He lashed out with his dagger, but the man’s armor took the blow without trouble. The man raised his shatterblade. Jack squirmed in his grasp but couldn’t move. He used smoke twist, once again evaporating out of harm’s way. No sooner had he materialized, though, then another man gripped him.
Smoke twist wouldn’t let him elude both of them. He needed to break their concentration, but if he focused on just one of the men, then the other would get him.
He used chain slice on the man closest to him. He slashed a deep cut down his chest, feeling his shine-steel blade rip down the man’s flash. The man nearest to him stumbled back, grunting in pain. Just a second later, the other enemy cried out too. A similar, but smaller, wound appeared on his chest, even though Jack hadn’t even touched him. He allowed himself a quick grin; he was loving chain slice already.
A third man seized hold of his shoulders and then threw him to the ground. Jack twisted quickly enough to get a view of his attacker, but he was too late to react. He braced himself for the coming blow. Then, instead of striking Jack, the man headed for Elena. Similarly, two others marched toward Mav.
He didn’t understand it. The man had Jack where he wanted him, yet he’d spared him. Why would he do that?
The realization hit him - they weren’t here for him. They were here for Mav and Elena. They must have known that they couldn’t kill Jack permanently, but his friends didn’t have his respawn ability.
“Fuck’s sake, Johnson,” cried Sarna. “To your left. Watch yourself!”
Johnson turned, but he was too late. A shatterblade pierced his ribcage. When its wielder withdrew it, jagged pieces of metal splintered off and dug into the soldier’s flesh like metal insects. There was obviously something magical about the shatterblades.
Mav danced between his two opponents, striking left and right with his mughal dagger. His hand moved with such speed that Jack could hardly keep track. To the right, Sarna parried with her haladie sword, scoring a vicious hit just above one man’s armor where his chest piece didn’t reach his neck. The man choked and fell to the ground.
He had to protect Elena and Mav. He couldn’t let anything happen to them.
Two fighters surrounded Elena. One of them raised his shatterblade. Jack used smoke twist and then leapt forward, moving between Elena and their enemy. When he took on his normal form, he caught the blow on his right forearm. Pain exploded across his skin, and for a second, he lost his focus.
55HP lost!
[65ATT – 10 DEF]
[Total: 335/390]
Elena flicked a violent slash of her blade at one fighter, lacerating his face. The other man betrayed no fear at the sight of his friend screaming in pain. Instead, he prepared for another strike. As he did, Jack scrambled to his feet.
Biting back on the pain, Jack switched his dagger into his left hand. The fighter was focused only on the tacher. This allowed Jack to get behind him. He held his dagger tight and allowed a charge of force strike to flow into his blade. Then, with the dagger buzzing in his hand, he plunged it into the man’s neck.
35 damage inflicted!
[50 ATT – 15 DEF]
There was a crash to his right, and Sarna fell to the ground under a blow from one of her opponents. The man fell on top of her. He raised his fist and punched her in the face. The blow was so strong that Sarna lost grip of her weapon.
To Jack’s left, Mav cried out. He took two stumbling steps back, then fell to the floor. Two men advanced on him. Jack’ throat tightened. Had Mav been hit?
Sarna, under the weight of the heavier man, struggled to reach her sword. Then, abandoning the notion, she pulled a dagger from her boot. The man on top of her pressed the tip of his shatterblade forward, aiming for her throat. Sarna held it back with one hand, but she was losing the struggle.
The nerves in Jack’s arm screamed in pain. Fragments of shatterblade had pierced his leathers and were burrowing into his skin.
Two hands grabbed him. Jack swung his dagger out of instinct, but he was thankful that he missed when he saw that it was Elena. She quickly plucked the blade fragments from his arm, cutting her fingers in the process.
Mav sat up. His face was pale, but he was alive. His left arm hung limply at his side, and blood trickled down his wr
ist and onto his fingertips. As his opponent prowled close, Mav danced to the left, held his mughal in his good hand, and plunged it into his throat.
Sarna shouted for help. Jack needed to get to her.
He focused on her and moved in her direction, when a fist connected with his cheek. His vision blurred, and he fell onto the ground.
15HP lost!
[25 ATT – 10 DEF]
[ 320/390]
Critical punch – you are dazed!
Elena drew back her urumi and prepared to strike. Her face was red, her breaths were staggered. Just two enemies remained now; one facing Elena, the other on top of Sarna.