Legends of Windemere: 03 - Family of the Tri-Rune

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “I don’t see Kevin or Selenia,” Delvin whispers, picking up his longsword and shield. He makes a few experimental swings to get a feel for the practice weapon. “Do you think Thomas really talked to them about this?”

  “You scared to tarnish your perfect record?” Luke teases, spinning the wooden sabers in his hands. He grins at the angry scowl he gets from Delvin. “We’ll be fine. We aren’t students any more, so she can’t do much to us.”

  “She can beat on us as an example to others,” Delvin contends, strapping the shield to his forearm. “Contrary to your experience, her beatings aren’t a normal part of her lessons. I’ve seen her take out armored knights and nimble knife-fighters with practice sticks. Not even full practice swords. As a student, I never wanted to anger her and I have even less interest in doing it as a graduate.”

  “You never struck me as a worrier,” Luke says. He stretches his legs and takes some dancing steps away from his opponent.

  Delvin cautiously sidesteps for a few yards in order to put some distance between him and the fountain. “I worry, but I rarely show it. The prospect of being at the wrong end of Selenia’s temper is a good reason for me to openly admit my fear. I would have felt better if Kevin was here, but I heard some students say he’s busy interviewing a new student.”

  “I see Duggan watching, so that should be good enough,” Luke mentions, pointing his sabers toward the blacksmith. “Although, he seems to be staying near his door, so he could just be watching out of curiosity. I remember him taking daily bets on me getting into trouble. He told me that the highlight of his day was to hear what kind of mischief I caused.” Luke shrugs and smiles at Delvin. “I guess we’ll take whatever the gods send our way. Maybe we can beat Selenia if we team up against her.”

  “We couldn’t beat Selenia in her sleep,” Delvin mutters with a laugh. “Let’s get this disaster started.”

  Luke cautiously circles Delvin, his sabers spinning and twirling as he waits for an opening. He slashes at Delvin when the calmer warrior cross-steps, his feet unable to move without risking his ankle. Instead of catching him off-balance, Luke’s attack is deflected by a swift half-spin that puts Delvin’s shield in the way of the sabers. A quick strike from Delvin forces Luke to drop to the ground and roll out of reach. The half-elf hops to his feet and goes back to circling his opponent.

  “We wanted excitement and action!” yells a student from the crowd.

  “Then fight this guy yourself!” Delvin shouts back, keeping his eyes on the fast-moving forest tracker.

  When Luke glances at the roaring crowd behind him, Delvin rushes forward with his shield held out. He has his longsword ready for an upward slash, but Luke blindly leaps out of the way. With a grunt of exertion, Delvin uses his shield to block the flurry of jabs coming from his sword-hand side. He struggles to hold his ground with his arms awkwardly crossed. It takes a few precious seconds for him to face Luke, which gives the faster warrior enough time to build a solid rhythm to his movements. He flips and dives around Delvin, his slashes and stabs always coming within inches of striking before they are expertly deflected.

  After several minutes of being on the defensive, Delvin catches a brief opening and flings himself at Luke. He crashes shield-first into the half-elf’s chest, driving both of them into the ground. The air is knocked out of Luke’s lungs, but he has enough sense to slam a knee into Delvin’s stomach. They roll away from each other and scramble to their feet, Delvin already preparing for an attack. Luke charges with his sabers held upside down, so the dull edge of the blades are pressed against his forearms. Delvin expects another unique strike from the forest tracker, so he lunges forward to weaken Luke’s momentum. The half-elf makes a sudden stop and leaps to the side, landing on his toes. He immediately makes a twirling jump behind Delvin, flipping his sabers like they are giant switchblades. Unable to see what Luke is doing, Delvin lurches forward and falls on his side. The forest tracker clumsily stabs down at him, but gets his sabers stuck in the ground when Delvin curls his body out of the way.

  “You wouldn’t be able to do that in armor,” Luke mentions, pulling his sabers free and shaking clumps of grass off them.

  “Yes, but I’m not wearing my armor,” Delvin says, getting to his feet and backing away. “We’re holding back again, aren’t we?”

  “Well, I don’t want to hurt you,” Luke admits with a shrug. “I really don’t like being in the middle of a circle. It feels like I’m in an illegal street fight or a public challenge in Gaia. We should liven this up and give them a real show.”

  “I agree.”

  “Want to stretch your legs?”

  “Of course.”

  “I can lead.”

  “Well, that only makes sense.”

  The students are curious about the vague conversation until Luke makes a wild slash at Delvin, forcing the warrior to lean away. Instead of following up with another attack, Luke sprints into the crowd and disappears among the students. Delvin rushes after Luke with his sword swinging, sending students scattering in every direction. Thomas and Duggan laugh at the scene as the crowd parts to reveal Luke patiently crouching in wait. He leaps at Delvin, his sabers glancing off the shield, narrowly missing the warrior’s shoulder. Luke retreats further into the crowd and Delvin follows, their chase carrying them through the mass of spectators.

  Their fast-paced fight moves to the cafeteria where Luke flips onto a windowsill. He jumps onto Delvin, who swings his shield up to block, but Luke uses the shield to help launch him into the air. Twisting in midair, the half-elf grabs the edge of the roof and clambers out of reach. He crouches on the flat roof, catching his breath while Delvin stares at him from below. Luke’s cocky grin fades when Delvin sits down and rests against the building. The students boo and yell at the abrupt lack of action as they crowd around the cafeteria.

  “I thought you were going to chase me,” Luke says from the rooftop.

  “I’m not much of a climber,” Delvin declares with a yawn. “Besides, you have to come down some time. Even you can’t jump to the wall or leap over the crowd from there, so you can’t go anywhere unless you can fly.”

  Everyone whispers as Luke disappear from view, the taller students confused when they see wings briefly appear and disappear. Only Timoran is chuckling when a griffin soars off the roof and lands on the other side of the crowd. The griffin transforms back into Luke as the students and teachers let Delvin through. He is smirking and shaking his sword at Luke, dropping it to his side when he gets within reach of the dramatically bowing half-elf.

  “You’re full of tricks,” Delvin whispers, turning to the awestruck students. “Did you plan that all along?”

  “Actually, I was hoping you would follow,” Luke sheepishly admits, rubbing his growling stomach. “It never crossed my mind that you would stay on the ground and wait me out. The students would lynch us if we sat there.”

  Delvin pretends to say something when he swings his longsword at the half-elf’s head. The attack is blocked and Luke counters with a hilt punch to Delvin’s stomach, but all he feels is a tremor run up his arm after hitting the shield. They push off each other with Delvin stumbling away and Luke elegantly cartwheeling out of reach. With the haste of two warriors who simply want to stop fighting, they charge into an amazing display of blocks and counters. Luke flips and jumps around the brown-haired warrior, his sabers constantly deflecting blows and slashing at openings. Delvin holds his ground, using sudden turns to block the faster warrior and create a chance to attack. Neither warrior is making progress until Luke delivers a spinning kick to Delvin’s back, pushing him forward. The half-elf pounces, but is stopped by a back-kick that connects with his chin.

  Muttering curses, Luke rolls and stumbles away before Delvin can turn around. He crouches at the base of the fountain and massages his aching jaw with the back of his hand. Glaring at his distant opponent, Luke sits on the fountain’s edge and hunches over. With his left hand saber, he tauntingly beckons for Delvin to a
pproach. The students try to goad Delvin into running at the half-elf, who is obviously tired and in pain. After a few minutes of watching Luke angrily shake his head, Delvin decides to cautiously advance. He gradually builds up speed until he is at a full sprint, his shield held up and his sword out to his side. Many in the crowd gasp as Luke launches off the fountain’s edge into an arching leap at Delvin. His sabers rise above his head and his back muscles tense before he swings down with all his strength. The impact is heard throughout the academy as the wooden blades crash into the shield, sending Delvin to one knee to soften the blow. Luke slides his left hand saber off the shield to block the incoming longsword and press it to the ground.

  “I think we have another stalemate,” Luke hisses through clenched teeth.

  “I owe you an apology,” Delvin claims, trying to shift his leverage. Luke immediately moves to match him. “Your style may look random and wild, but it really is a challenge to fight against. We should spar more often, so I can get used to warriors like you.”

  “I’m sorry for being a jerk too,” Luke says, pushing on Delvin to keep him pinned. “I’m sure we can practice while we’re here. Now, how do we end this?”

  Delvin is about to answer when a large shadow covers them. They jump away from each other an instant before Timoran lands where they were standing. The barbarian swings a wooden axe at Delvin, who uses his sword and shield together to block the weapon. The force of the attack shoves him back until Timoran whirls around to make an overhead chop at Luke, who is sneaking up on the large warrior. The half-elf leans to the side while the axe slams into the ground. He tries for a quick slash that is easily dodged by Timoran.

  “Were you getting bored?” Luke asks, catching his breath. He glances from Timoran to Delvin, unsure which one he should worry about. “Come to think of it, how do we know when one of us loses?”

  “I thought we were going for points,” Delvin answers as he shield bashes Timoran from behind. He ducks a back-fist and spins around to stand next to Luke. “Though, I haven’t been keeping count.”

  “Barbarians practice until one quits or collapses,” Timoran mentions. He makes a wide swing, forcing his opponents to split up. Following Luke, the barbarian makes an overhead chop, but the nimble half-elf dives out of reach.

  “I don’t like that option,” Luke admits, springing up to his feet. He dashes at Timoran and rolls between his legs in order to make a slash at Delvin’s knees. “I say if you’re hit with a fatal blow, you have to drop your weapon and lie down until the match is over.”

  “That’s a little melodramatic,” Delvin says, swatting Luke’s sabers away with a flick of his sword. He grins at the sight of the forest tracker using the momentum to spin around and slashes at Timoran’s side. “I say we take your suggestion, but we leave the field of battle when defeated. I don’t want to accidentally step on somebody and cause a real injury.”

  Timoran nods as he steps into Luke’s swing and knocks the half-elf over with an open hand smack to the side of his head. Delvin cringes at the sound of the blow before he has to block a jab of Timoran’s axe. The brown-haired warrior ducks under the weapon and hooks his shield arm around the handle, locking the axe against his side. With a roar, Timoran lifts Delvin over his head, letting his massive body fall backwards. The crowd roars as Delvin is violently slammed into the ground where he lets go of the axe. He starts to get to his hands and knees, but is pushed back down when Luke uses him to leap into a high, spinning attack. Timoran gets his axe up to block the first strike, but the second saber has enough power to drive him to one knee. Luke jumps off the back of the large warrior’s head to get out of reach and send the barbarian to the ground.

  “This fight is going to take forever,” Luke announces with a heavy sigh. “It’s a mess with all three of us blocking and hitting each other. I don’t even know where to start. Let’s just call it a tie and agree we’re incredible warriors with our own effective styles. Otherwise, we’re going to be here all day.”

  Luke senses something coming toward his side and has the barest amount of time to block a sheathed longsword. He refuses to look into the eyes of his attacker and strongly considers dropping his weapons to surrender. His moment of hesitation gives his enemy enough time to flip the longsword into her opposite hand. As he slips forward, Luke is driven into the dirt by a solid strike to his upper back. Lifting his dirt-covered face, the half-elf turns his head to watch Timoran swing at whoever is standing over him. With a burst of desperate energy, Luke rolls onto his back and gets his sabers up to block Timoran’s deflected axe.

  “Good reflexes,” Selenia admits, watching the barbarian and placing a foot on Luke’s groin. “I didn’t authorize this demonstration, so you three are going to test my new detention building. I’ll let you off with a warning if any of you can hit me.”

  “I accept your challenge,” Timoran loudly declares.

  “I’m already in trouble, so let me up and I’ll join in,” Luke mutters. He scrambles to his knees as soon as Selenia lifts her foot.

  Everyone turns to Delvin, who is tapping the flat side of his sword on the back of his head. He nervously inches closer until he is standing next to Timoran, his gaze never meeting the eyes of his mentor. Without warning, he lunges at Selenia whose longsword deflects the attack at the last second. She steps into Delvin and strikes the center of his shield with her elbow, cracking the wooden weapon down the middle. Kicking her former student in the side of his knee, she shoves him into Luke’s path and darts at Timoran. Before the barbarian can finish his swing, she drives her palm into his jaw and spins around to hit him in the face with her sheathed sword. Timoran collapses to the ground as Selenia faces the remaining warriors. She calmly backs up while deflecting the steady attacks of Delvin and Luke’s flurry of spinning strikes. A few times, they switch sides in an attempt to confuse the headmistress, but she moves away to adapt to the change. Eventually, they corner her against the fountain where she blocks with quicker, tighter movements.

  “You forfeit if you can’t hit me in the next minute,” she mentions, noticing that Betty is preparing to ring the dinner bell.

  The subtle curve of an eyebrow is the only sign of surprise on Selenia’s face as Delvin retreats and Luke moves in front of him. Luke sprints forward with Delvin a few steps behind, his longsword pulled back for a powerful thrust. The agile forest tracker stops in front of Selenia and jumps high enough to give Delvin room to rush underneath him. With Delvin’s longsword driving toward Selenia’s stomach and Luke’s sabers coming down at her head, the gathered students wait to see if she takes a hit. Instead, the headmistress steps forward, blocking the incoming longsword and reaching up to grab the half-elf’s ankle. With a savage jerk, she slams Luke onto Delvin with all of the forest tracker’s weight hitting him on the head and shoulders. As her former student falls to the ground, Selenia twists her final opponent in the air and flips him into the fountain. Luke bursts to the surface and uses the last of his energy to swim to the edge.

  “Detention until morning,” Selenia loudly announces for everyone to hear. “I’ll send my assistant to retrieve you after breakfast.”

  18

  “I’m hungry,” groans Luke as he sprawls on the small cot in his cell.

  “At least you got some sleep,” Timoran grumbles, kicking at the shattered remains of his cot. “Why would Selenia have a prison on campus?”

  “It became too dangerous to bring students to the edge of the Caster Swamp for her usual method of detention,” Delvin answers. He leans on the bars of his cell and lazily dangles his hands on the outside. “We’re the first ones to be put in this detention shack. I’m not happy about that honor, but this place isn’t bad as far as prisons go. There are no rats or mold. Each cell has a water pump and all of them face the middle, so we can talk to each other. We aren’t chained to the wall or listening to the screams of our fellow prisoners, which a big plus for me.”

  “You were not awake for Luke’s screaming,” the barbar
ian argues, glaring at the resting half-elf. “I am thankful Selenia quieted you before I did something, Luke. My head was killing me and you did not make it any better.”

  “Nobody asked you to jump into our match,” Luke snaps. He raises his head, revealing a horrific black eye to his fellow inmates.

  “I was bored.”

  “Then stop complaining about being in here.”

  “I am not complaining.”

  “It sounds like complaining to me, big man.”

  Delvin hits his cell bars with a metal chair to silence Timoran and Luke, the incessant ringing making their headaches worse. The three warriors stare at each other and try to calm down. Luke hops to his feet, doubling over from a wave of nausea. He grabs the bars of his cell and steadies himself while the others watch with concern.

  “You should drink some water from your cell pump,” Delvin suggest, yawning and scratching his stubbled chin.

  “He threw his cup at Selenia, which is why she punched him,” Timoran says with a baritone laugh. “Luke struck her in the back of the head and claimed that he hit her, so we should be let go. Headache aside, I have to admit it was funny to watch. You two bicker like family, Luke.”

  “That’s because they’re aunt and nephew,” Delvin interjects. He grins and chuckles at the startled, open-mouthed look on Luke’s face. “Selenia gave me private lessons during my time here. One day, Kevin was angry and interrupted us by calling her Selenia Callindor. He didn’t realize I was there and the damage had been done. She swore me to secrecy, but I figure you already know from the way you interact with her. I’m sure Timoran can keep a secret.”

  “I have no intention of angering her,” Timoran claims. He searches his cell for his cup and stretches to hold it outside his cell. “Here, Luke, you need to drink something. You look like you are about to collapse and your lips are cracked.”