Brin saw it coming and looked unconcerned. “Reflair!” Her shout bounced around the courtyard in the same way Dactus's did, but it wasn't due to a spell, it was the side effect of invoking her power. The bauble on her necklace became filled with light, which rushed out of the miniature, glass amphora like mist to become something like a ball lightning.
It raced to her side and into the path of the oncoming attack, taking on the general shape of a tall woman in regal robes, the protruding, pointed ears marked her as an elf, or what was left of one. The specter seemed to be carrying a spear exactly like the Barratta, but she didn't use it, instead holding up a bare hand to intercept Issacor's Faith-Be-Forgiven.
The collision was spectacular, slamming Issacor to a dead stop, but the spectral elf was unmoved as she pushed the sword back from her with enough force to make the blade disciple stumble. Then she turned to Brin. After a moment of non-verbal communication, the specter dissolved back into mist, surrounding Brin, visible only as a dim illumination around her and in tiny contrails as she moved.
Watching from the sidelines, Taylin was almost startled out of her wits when Kaiel clapped his hands together loudly. “Ha! That's why I sensed discarnate energy from her, she's a sublime docent.” It took him a beat to realize he was talking to someone who wouldn't understand. “They're practitioners that use the same power source as we do at the College. They're not organized like we are though, so there's not a lot known about just what they're capable of. What an opportunity; I'm sure even Master Gherin would be impressed with a comprehensive treatise on sublime docents.”
Taylin was watching the proceedings with rapt interest and the link told her that she wasn't alone in that. “So this is something even you don't understand?”
“You've just gotten lucky thus far, Taylin; I'm not yet even a first rank loreman, there are libraries of information I don't know. Right now, we'll both have to watch and learn.”
Issacor got over the initial shock well, his face remaining friendly even as he charged once more with an overhead strike. “Now that I wasn't expecting. I know ghost-talkers are fairly common east of the strait of Nivia, but here you're a rare treat to fight. Fortunately, I've already learned from being defeated by one, or you'd have me at a complete disadvantage.”
Catching the attack on the Barratta's haft, Brin pushed away to make room to thrust. “I doubt that person had anyone like Reflair on their side.” She went for the thrust, telegraphing it the whole way. Issacor stepped back out of range.
But the spear didn't stop where it should have. Instead, its momentum carried it forward, the haft sliding through Brin's grip as if there were no friction there. It slammed his shoulder hard, turning his body. Brin brought her arm back and the mass of the weighted butt allowed the Barratta to slide back just as easily so she could thrust again in the same way. The luminous mist curled around the weapon as she repeated the process again and again, striking Issacor about the shoulders and chest in impossibly rapid succession.
After a few seconds of being bombarded by the aptly named 'thousand strikes' spear, the blade disciple adjusted, first blocking the strikes, then slamming them aside to execute a thrust of his own, which forced Brin to interrupt her rhythm to block.
Suddenly, she reversed tactics and span the spear so that its butt battered the armor over his ribs. On the rebound, she brought it around to thrust for his face. Issacor took one hand off his sword to bat the threat aside with a forearm before aiming a slash at her own ribs.
Brin had a flash of inspiration and stepped into the blow, bringing down her arm to trap the blade in her armpit. In a real battle, it would have been a fatal move, in a 'points' match in the Trinigon Arena, it would have lost her the match. But under the protection of the circle of the invincible, in a no rules match, it was a master stroke.
Baring an almost feral smile, she shifted the Barratta so she was holding it one handed at the center and span it so as to swing for Issacor's head again. If he wanted to avoid being knocked cold, he would have to relinquish his grip.
Or so she thought. Instead, the blade disciple lunged forward, ducking his head under the braining strike and rocking her back on her heels. In the next instant, he pulled back, all the way back, allowing himself to tip over. With Faith-Be-Forgiven caught under her arm, Brin was pulled along with him. Halfway to the ground, he bent his leg and got his knee against her stomach, so that when they hit, he rocked on his shoulders and kicked, sending her tumbling over him—and toward the circle's edge.
Reflair coalesced around Brin's arm and the Barratta, driving it downward as Brin went over Issacor's head. The incredibly sharp weapon bit into the hard ground and stuck, resisting Brin's body weight as Reflair forced her to hold on tightly.
It bought Brin a precious moment of clarity to see what her spirit companion was doing. But there was only so much Reflair could do on her own without Brin actively channeling. With no time to do so, it was all up to her physically as the force of Issacor's throw against the pivot created by the Barratta being thrust into the ground vaulted her higher. She tightened her grip and twisted.
Her body arched against the direction of her momentum and she pushed off against the Barratta. For a surreal second, Brin found herself parallel to the ground, held there by her muscles alone. In the next moment, the Barratta's shaft flexed and sprang back. She kicked up and over, coming back down inside the circle, if only just.
The cheering and shouts of the crowd cut off short as folks who thought they were going to make some money in that second and those who thought they were going to lose the same exchanged moods. Then the collective roar returned and redoubled.
Brin pulled the Barratta out of the ground in time to block a sudden flurry of slashes from Issacor. She almost stepped back, only to realize that she didn't have a step left before she would be outside the arena. Evidently, he saw it too, as he stopped slashing to match his blade against the haft of the Barratta.
“If I weren't a strong believer into putting my all into a fight, I would have conceded after that spectacle.” He said over the crossed weapons. “You have my utmost respect, Brin.”
“And you mine, Issacor. But I worry...”
“About what?”
“If your respect will weather this.” She pivoted on her heel, lifting her rearmost foot so it wouldn't land outside the circle. At the same time, she twisted the Barratta, which thanks to Reflair, became suddenly frictionless, allowing Faith-Be-Forgiven and the man pressing all his weight against it, to stumble past.
Her self-satisfaction fled when the blade disciple's shoulder slammed her own in passing, and her raised foot came down reflexively to save her from a fall.
Chapter 7 – Citadel
The noise of the assembled crowd pressed in on Issacor's ears as he took a several deep gulps of air. The battle was hard fought and later, he would have much to meditate on; both mistakes and successes. He started to rise and found a hand held out to help him up. He accepted and found that it belonged to the woman, Brin. It surprised him to see the disappointed expression on her face.
“One should not grimace at a victory hard won.”
She shook her head. “It's not my victory to smile or frown at.”
“But I did fall out of the arena. That means you won.”
“No, I overbalanced at the last minute.” They both had to raise their voices above the crowd. “I stepped out of the ring at the last moment, right before you hit the ground.”
Issacor frowned. How anticlimactic. “That hardly seems right. You caused me to over-commit. You should have won. At the very least, we should split the prize.”
Brin shouldered the Barratta, still glowing with Reflair's light. “I appreciate the thought, but the rules were very clear: whoever steps foot out of the arena loses. My foot landed first. The victory is yours, Disciple Issacor, don't grimace at it.”
Defeated by his own words, he inclined his head politely in social submission. “I admit that I must accept this log
ic, lest I be a hypocrite. However, perhaps I can use some of my winnings on a token of my esteem for your skills in the arena. Have you taken the midday meal yet?”
“Yes, actually.” Kaiel glided into the conversation as smoothly as someone who was invited into it. “Our friend is new to the city and we've been sampling the food carts with her all mid-morning.” Taylin and the others were coming up behind him with Rai preoccupied in counting the pile of silver and gold coins she'd won. He didn't extend his hand, but instead touched his forehead, bowed slightly, then moved his hand to his shoulder as he straightened.
Issacor smiled broadly at the gesture and duplicated it. “In these times of waxing and waning politics and culture, it's rare to get a proper greeting even from a fellow Nov; everyone seems intent on crushing one another's hands. My appreciation, Loreman.”
“Chronicler.” Kaiel tapped his brooch, knowing that the crest of the Bardic College had given Issacor that impression, “I am not yet a loreman, Disciple Issacor. Someday, but not this day.”
“Miss Brin!” In a blur of faded maroon, Layaka was beside Brin. “You were amazing! You deserved to win, but obviously, the dice priests drew the arena too small.”
Brin shook her head and the glow surrounding her began to retreat back into the reliquary around her neck. “No, Layaka. I lost.” The girls started to protest, but Brin held up a hand, causing her to stop obediently. “There's no shame in losing. Even if I were the best--”
“You are!” Layaka insisted.
“Even if,” Brin said evenly, “I would still lose from time to time. Luck, mistakes, or many, many other things come up even in practice and show battles that you can't prepare for. Maybe I should have won, but I didn't. Next time, I'll know to move further to the side when I do that. Maybe it'll save my life knowing that.”
Layaka wasn't satisfied with that and her expression made it evident, but she left it alone.
Once she was sure her charge wasn't going to accuse the servants of the God of Luck of any more wrongdoing, she returned her attention to her former opponent. “I'm sorry, Issacor. This is Layaka Emeries, and my rather new friends, Taylin, Raiteria, and Ru.” She flashed Kaiel an unreadable smile, “And Kaiel Arunsteadeles.” Kaiel's brows rose at something in her introduction, but he didn't react otherwise.
“A great pleasure.” Issacor offered them the same greeting he and Kaiel exchanged. He cast a quick glance at Kaiel before speaking further. “As I was saying before your arrival, I fear that my victory was not entirely fair. I was feinted and would have lost, but for a fluke. Brin graciously contests this, but my sense of right remains unconvinced. I was going to offer to pay for her midday meal, but Chronicler Arunsteadeles says that I am too late for that.”
Rai barked a laugh. “We've only really had the one midday meal and a nir-lumos in the city can lunch until tea. But between you and I, the debt's been settled; you've won me a good bit of coin, Disciple Issacor.”
“You bet against me?” Brin asked, only slightly shocked. The few hours they'd spent together didn't obligate anyone to any loyalty.
“As did I.” Ru added. “But it is expected of me to be crass.”
“Crass has nothing to do with it.” Raiteria jingled her coin pouch. “If Brin won, she would get the purse for the winner. Therefore, it makes sense that someone in the group to bet against. This way, coin was still made by one of us.” She answered the skeptical looks with a glare. “Stop looking at me like I'm a Kimean Raider who just took your grandmother and your lap-bear; I'll pay for everyone's dinner at Little Ueparia tonight.”
“Rizeni food'll give you nightmares if you stuff yourself.” Dactus came upon them with all the tact that Layaka had. He was bearing a cloth pouch, overflowing with gold full-marks, silver split-marks and dimes. “Now, in the Gold Quarter is a place that does a good Mindeformean rolled fish with rice. Far more worth the money and no blasted trencher peppers like the Rizeni put in everything.”
Rai balked. “I never thought I'd see the day I'd meet a priest of the One Dice that fears spice.”
Dactus chose the most mature option in his mind and made a face at her. “Only when spice overwhelms flavor.” He proffered the bag to Issacor. “Your winnings, lad. Oh, a moment...” He reached into the bag and withdrew an oblong object the size of a sand dollar from it.
Made of cream colored enamel and rimmed with silver, the disc bore a stylized character from the draconic language, graphur, in yellow, outlined in blue. It was recognizable, even to Taylin, as a symbol carved over the entryways of houses, inn rooms and ship's cabins; the character 'ura-la', meaning 'home'.
“A housewarming present?” Issacor inquired as Dactus handed it to him. “My apologies, but I have no permanent home city, to say nothing of a house.”
Dactus pressed it into his hand nonetheless. “Part of Miss Brin's conditions for joining the match was that the temple add a small, magical treasure. She is a treasure-thief, you know?”
Brin huffed at the description. “I am a contractor with the Historical Society. If I were a treasure-thief, I'd be a member.”
Issacor chuckled at the exchange and gazed at the bauble thoughtfully. “What does it do?”
The priest looked sheepish and scratched his ear. “We don't rightly know. Found it in the vaults of the old temple after Solgrum burned it down. All the records burned up. Can't be too dangerous though; it wasn't in the deep vaults.”
Kaiel had his doubts on that front seeing how avariciously Ru was eying it and how uncomfortable Taylin appeared with whatever Ru was saying or doing in the link. Despite frequent, sometimes even amiable discussions with the man, Kaiel couldn't find it in himself to completely trust him. Or partialy trust him.
After all, if he was as he claimed: the Rune Breaker; he was a being of immense evil. And if he wasn't, there was still little reason to trust a man who would claim such a legacy. He had to act quickly.
Clearing his throat, he stepped forward before Ru could begin to speak. “If you don't have a need for it, Disciple Issacor, I would happily purchase it from you. Item evaluation and identification are required skills for the trade I'm pursuing, after all. Does... one hundred and fifty full-marks sound fair?”
“Fair only in as far as he can't tell a single property of the device.” Ru breezed past Taylin, who was now glaring at the back of his head. He inclined his head to Issacor. “I am Ru Brakar, a mage by birth with the gift of a sense for magic.” He tapped the space between the eyes in an oblique reference. “This prize of yours is a work of art in terms of spell-work; structures within structures, almost entirely composed of vox with traces of ere-a, akua and vitae.”
Nothing in his speech resonated with Issacor, who shrugged. “Unfortunately, I am without any magic of my own, but that provided by the Mother through Faith-Be-Forgiven. I know nothing of spellcraft, or even channeling; I'm merely one of the faithful, not a priest.”
“Then I shall make it simple for a non-practitioner:”
“Ru.” Taylin said sharply, sensing a tone in the link that he hadn't given voice. Ru paid no heed.
“To pay you one hundred and fifty would be equivalent to robbery.”
“If I don't know what it is, and cannot use it, I don't see why it should be worth much at all; even one hundred and fifty.” Issacor pointed out.
Ru studied him for a long moment, as if trying to find out what kind of creature stood before him. At length, he cleared his throat. “Because I will give you three hundred for it.”
“Three-fifty.” Kaiel said automatically.
“Kaiel, don't.” Taylin said warningly, her gaze never leaving Ru.
“Three and seventy-five.” Ru countered, speaking over her in the process. Taylin's feathers bristled.
Whatever it was about the enamel disc, it had Taylin fairly upset. Kaiel resolved to redouble his efforts for his adoptive sister's sake. “Five hundred, hard coin.”
Issacor stood between them as the impromptu bidding war heated up, looking slightly b
ewildered that they were offering such large sums for something that was useless to him. Beside him, Brin and Dactus were displaying confusion and delight respectively.
“Six!”
Ru and Kaiel paused to look down at Raiteria, who grinned avariciously. “If two mages fight over it this hard, I think I could sell it for thousands in Kinos. We nir-lumos are a people of opportunity.”
“Rai...” Taylin sighed. “No one should be bidding on it. It's not worth...”
“Eight hundred.” Ru said loudly.
“You don't have eight hundred.” Kaiel pointed accusingly.
“Of course I do. I have almost nine.”
“You have nine hundred in Taunaun gold coins.” said Kaiel. He folded his arms smugly. “It's not even an officially recognized currency. It amounts to around six hundred-twenty full-marks.”
Ru reared back, looking affronted. “That's preposterous. Why would people have multiple currencies?”
“Because they're different nations, Ru. Even I know that.” Taylin stepped in, glaring furiously at him. “Now can you stop this? Please?”
“Stop what?” asked Kaiel, keeping a suspicious eye on Ru.
Any further discussion was cut off by Issacor, who cleared his throat loudly. “I believe I can put an end to this disagreement quite simply.” The others looked at him intently, but the heat of their gazes didn't faze him. Turning the enamel 'home' disk over in his hands, he finally held it out to Brin.
“The good priest said that a magical item was your request for this exhibition. Given how the match actually ended, and the fact that it is of no use to me, I wish to present this to you as a gift to satisfy my honor.”
Brin stared at the item for a time, weighing the pros and cons of accepting.
“Please take it Brin.” Taylin finally said. “It will keep Ru from goading Kaiel into paying too much for it.”
Kaiel's glare could have ignited Ru if it grew only a fraction more intense. “You.” He said in a dangerous tone. Any elaboration to follow was cut off by a muffled cacophony in the depths of his cloak. Taken off guard, Kaiel paused to search out the source.
Lighter Days, Darker Nights (Rune Breaker) Page 9