Blood on Bronze (Blood on Bronze Book 1) (6 page)

BOOK: Blood on Bronze (Blood on Bronze Book 1)
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Inina tried to duck around the man blocking their way,
but he leered and with one hand reached between her legs while with the other
grabbed the wrist of her dagger hand. She spun and wrenched it free, and with a
smooth motion plunged the dagger into the man’s belly. He howled in pain and
rage.

Then the others were upon them, clubs, obsidian
daggers and bronze knives drawn. Arjun drew his sword from his cloak and
slashed before them. The men stopped at the sight of the fine bronze sword.

One of them, with thick tattooed arms, glared at him,
“I’m going to rip that sword out of your hands, boy, and then we’ll all have
your girl while you watch.”

The man was interrupted as Inina ducked low and
slashed the tendons of his knee. He screamed and fell sideways. Another of
them, a man with a ragged scar across his face, aimed a vicious kick at Inina’s
ribs and sent her sprawling, curled on the ground in pain.

With the strength of fury, Arjun ran his sword through
the man’s chest. The man made a horrible gurgling noise, then collapsed with
blood spurting from his mouth. The remaining five unhurt sailors surrounded
Arjun. They laughed no longer, and there was death in their eyes.

They closed on him.

He dodged a dagger, and slashed his sword at the man
who wielded it, but the latter stepped back and the blade only whistled through
the air. Arjun felt agony as a club connected with his shoulder, barely missing
his skull. Another man slashed him with a knife, the blade gashing his side
with blood and pain, but not piercing his ribs. As he spun and tried to defend
himself, Arjun realized grimly that if not for the men’s drunkenness, the very
drunkenness that made them dare to start this, their reflexes would be better,
and he would already be dead.

The man Inina had stabbed in the belly was pulling a
knife of his own, and slowly advancing toward her crumpled form, his face a
sadistic leer. Arjun ducked between two of his enemies and leapt towards Inina.
As he did, she staggered to her feet, the wind knocked from her lungs only now
returning.

The wounded man was paying no attention to Arjun, his
eyes were locked onto Inina. He raised his knife and made a stumbling charge
that came to a sudden halt as Arjun’s sword pierced his kidney.  The man fell
to the ground writhing and screaming in agony. The other five closed on Arjun
and Inina.

At that moment, there were yells from down the street.
The five men halted in uncertainty. Inina glanced over her shoulder, turned
back to them, and laughed viciously.

“See! Sons of whores and dogs, I meant it when I said
you’d have trouble!” she yelled.

Arjun thought that had the opposite of its intended
effect. The men snarled and charged. One of them, with a copper ring in his
nose like a bull, brought his club down on Inina. She failed to dodge in time,
but blocked the blow with an upraised arm. There was a cracking sound. She
staggered back screaming. Arjun ducked low and felt a dagger rake across his
back as he slashed his sword at the groin of the man with the bull’s ring in
his nose. The man howled, but did not fall. Arjun had only grazed his thigh.

But then Inina’s friends arrived. Fourteen young men
in bright but dirty clothes, brutal looking themselves, swarmed the sailors
with clubs and daggers. It was over in seconds. Inina’s friends were not
kindly. They stabbed, clubbed, and kicked the bodies of the foreigners until
nothing moved.

Arjun kneeled by Inina, his body was in agony, but his
will and his fear for her kept him up. Her beautiful face was covered in sweat.
A bone protruded from her forearm. One of the local toughs, a tall young man
with a patchy beard, a pockmarked face, and a large bronze dagger, squatted
down by her side. He eyed Arjun suspiciously, and spoke to Inina.

“Inina, you all right?”

She hissed, “Belil, what do YOU think?”

“Sorry we didn’t get here sooner. What were you
thinking, insulting those guys like that? They were ready to run!” said Belil.

“I was keeping them around long enough for you to get
here.”

“They could’ve killed you before we did!”

“Nah, I had my friend Sharur with me…” she smiled
weakly and clutched Arjun’s hand.

Belil eyed Arjun, but his expression softened to a
smile. Then he turned to the boys in his gang and barked, “Search the bodies
and clean out whatever loot they’ve got, then dump ‘em in the alley!”

 

 

6.
The Tale of Growth and Decay

 

 

Belil and the gang of toughs took Inina to someone
they knew. He was a thin old man in a white kilt. Prominent in his home was a
statue of a slender man with a shaved head and an upraised arm, Inkiddu of the
White Hand, god of healing. He was only mildly surprised at someone showing up
with wounds at this hour, but was a good deal more so when Arjun offered to pay
for her treatment on the spot, and in full.

“My boy, thank you. People here often pay me back over
time, except when they don’t. I can hardly tell you how much this helps!”

Belil whispered quietly through his teeth, “Sharur,
you’re lucky we knew you were Inina’s friend BEFORE you flashed all that coin.”

The healer looked Arjun over.

“You need some help too, my lad. No broken bones, but
you’ve been bleeding quite a bit. I’ll tell you what, for paying so promptly
for her, I’ll add your treatment for free.”

Arjun felt too weak to argue.

Inina turned out to have a cracked rib as well. They
carried her in and put her on a soft mat as the healer called upon his magic
and went to work. In a couple of hours, it was done. Inina’s bones were set and
mending, and Arjun’s wounds were clean and closed. He still felt like his body
had a lot of recovery to do.

“Honored healer, what should we do next?”

“Just get some rest, and a good breakfast in the
morning. It will take your bodies a day or so to recuperate and restore energy,
but you’ll be fine.

“Thank you,” said Arjun, with a stiff and painful bow.

Belil and his gang insisted on accompanying them as a
guard back to the seedy apartment block where Inina stayed. When she got inside
the door, she smiled weakly and thanked them.

“Good night, Inina, talk to you soon,” the rough young
man said as he and the others faded into the shadows of an alley.

Arjun turned to leave as well. Inina grabbed his hand.

“Don’t go. I’m not feeling safe by myself right now,
and… I’m a little dizzy.”

He helped her up the stairs and to her room. He barred
her door. She sat on the edge of her cramped little bed and thanked him in a quiet
voice, tried to start a longer conversation, but then tipped over and curled up
asleep instead.

Arjun rested on the floor next to her, his head near
hers, and his sword in his hand. He thought with shock that he had killed a man
tonight with that sword. But then anger welled in him at what the man had done,
and had planned to do. That man’s face blurred with Bal-Shim’s in his mind. Red
anger flowed, and then gradually faded. The man had deserved it, Arjun thought
harshly as he drifted off to sleep.

~

When Arjun awoke, the sun was already high in the sky.
Inina was curled in the same position she’d fallen asleep, save that her arm
had dropped over his chest. He thought of all that had happened to him in what
was still only a day and a half. The contrast of horror and beauty, of pain and
of the simple joy he felt sitting near her, seemed almost too much to bear.

But he had to. He had much to do.

He took her hand from across his chest, and held it
for a moment, unexpected feelings stirring beneath his stern self-control. She
opened her eyes, looked up at him, and smiled.

“I suppose you want to go talk to my friend the
weapons master today?”

“Yes,” he said, “but first let’s go have that
breakfast the healer recommended!”

~

 Some hours later, Arjun stood before a grim,
square-faced man with a gray-streaked beard, a black kilt fringed with bronze
discs, and many scars. The audience hall was small and dark, but its walls were
lined with many weapons of bronze.

“Master Enlil, I seek training at arms,” said Arjun with
a bow.

The man surveyed him unsmilingly, “Training of what
kind?”

“Sword, dagger, fist, and feet… and how to use them
with surprise.”

Enlil arched an eyebrow that was split by an old scar.
“I see, then Inina has directed you to the right master, however for such
things, I do not work cheaply.”

“What are the terms of study with you?” replied Arjun.

“Five silver moons per day with me, provision of your
own weapons and gear, strict obedience to my commands while training is in
session, and no questions asked by either party.”

“That is agreeable, master Enlil.”

“One reason I am more expensive than most masters is
that my students often do not wish it known they are being trained, and so I
train them alone rather than in classes. Such attention also means that you
will acquire better training.”

Enlil continued, “You may expect thirty days of
training with me to reach the barest minimum proficiency I will accept for you
to call yourself my apprentice, and during that time I expect you to be here
every day except sacred festivals. After that, you may attend as needed, and I
will alternate with other apprentices, but know that it may take two hundred
days or more before you reach the skill whereby I would call you fully trained.
Do you have sufficient funds, and do you accept?”

“I have them, master Enlil, and I accept.”

“Very good then, student, we shall sign and seal the
compact now, and begin your training at first light tomorrow.”

~

The next morning, at the very glimmer of dawn, Arjun
was admitted to Enlil’s single-story house by a grim-faced doorman in armor and
bearing twin axes. The doorman led him through the audience hall and down a
narrow corridor that went past a kitchen and storerooms to a small, high-walled
courtyard with a sand yard in the center.

In the middle of the yard stood master Enlil. He was
wearing a kilt of bronze scales, a leather breastplate reinforced with copper
discs, leather bracers and greaves, and a bronze helmet. He had a sturdy plain
bronze sword drawn.

Arjun threw off his cloak and the bag he’d brought
with food and water. He walked to the center of the sand yard with his own
sword at the ready. Enlil nodded to him, and he bowed low.

“Now, student, let us see what skill you bring to your
training.”

Enlil took a half step back into a fighting stance.
Arjun did likewise, as he’d learned in his brief formal training when he first
got the sword. Enlil stepped to one side, bringing his sword around in a
slashing movement. Arjun parried it easily, but went flying as Enlil’s
unexpected kick connected with his flank. Arjun sprawled on the ground, and
swift as a hawk, Enlil put his sword to his neck.

Arjun winced at the pain where Enlil’s foot had
connected, but took it as the lesson it was. He looked up at Enlil, who stepped
back again, guard up, and spoke.

“I can see you have some formal training, student, but
I suspect little involving fighting with no rules. You will learn how to pay
better attention, so that you are not caught by surprise by such simple
tricks.”

“Yes, master Enlil.”

“Good. Now, stand up, and we shall take a more formal
approach to discover the full extent of your previous training.  I promise no
more such surprises for the first week of your instruction, but after that, you
must be on your guard.”

Arjun rose, mastered the pain in his side, and spent a
long morning being methodically tested by Enlil to see what moves he’d learned
in his old training.  As the heat of the day rose, Arjun felt himself getting
tired, and sweat poured down his bare shoulders and chest. Despite the pain of
the kick he’d gotten, he was glad he wasn’t wearing armor like Enlil. However,
if the older man was tired or felt any discomfort, he gave no sign, but instead
coolly continued testing Arjun with various slashes, thrusts, and feints, in
differing combinations. It was a testament to Enlil’s skill that he brought his
blade to Arjun’s neck or chest many times, but never cut him.

They broke for lunch in the shade of a portico on the
south side of Enlil’s courtyard. Enlil offered no conversation. Arjun took this
as it was, and ate in silence as well.

Sometime after they’d finished eating, Enlil rose.

“Now, student, you shall learn the very basics of
fighting technique, as I teach them. It will be simple and repetitive, but we
are going to undo the deficiencies of your previous training, and begin anew.”

Arjun bowed, and they began.

Hours later, as dusk approached, Enlil stopped without
warning, stepped back with his guard up, and spoke.

“And now I have gained knowledge of both what you
already know, and how well you are capable of learning. Tomorrow begins your
real training with the sword. If you wish to learn other weapons, you must now
obtain them. Return at first light.”

Arjun bowed and left.

On his way back to the House of Red, he stopped by the
tiny filthy shop of one of Inina’s many friends, a hard-faced old woman who
spoke little. From her he purchased a plain bronze dagger. It was sturdy, but
of foreign workmanship. On closer inspection he saw it was in the style of
Ershum, and considered the likely source. He smiled ruefully to himself. Zakran
was a vast place, but sometimes it was a small world.

~

For some weeks after he began his training, Arjun’s
life settled into a new sort of routine. Each morning, he would rise before
dawn and walk to the house of Enlil. There he would spend the day repeating
fighting moves over and over again, until he could do them without thought.
After the first week, they also spent part of the day in unstructured sparring,
so that Arjun could apply what he’d learned. Enlil was fast, cunning, and
pitiless. He threw tricks into his fights and Arjun went home many times with
bruises from an unexpected kick, trip, sweep, or punch. Many other times Arjun
was surprised to find the very sword he’d thought he’d dodged resting against
his neck, heart, or vitals.

In the evenings he shopped for necessities, among them
healing poultices, and he reluctantly decided, a leather cap and breastplate. 
At night when he had the energy, he would visit Inina, and the two of them took
to wandering the streets in conversation.  Sometimes his day caught up with
him, and he had to excuse himself to sleep, at other times, she said it was
time to go to work, and she would depart.

One night, he decided to argue with her about it.

“Inina, isn’t there some other way you can live
besides petty theft?”

“Actually, I don’t do that much outright stealing,
mostly I con the gullible and greedy out of their money. As you’ve noticed,
people usually like me. And, don’t forget the honest work I do guiding visitors
to my friends among the traders and peddlers.”

Arjun ignored questions about the honesty of that last
sort of work, and addressed the first. “You may talk them into letting you
steal from them, or trick them in some way through their own greed, but it is
still stealing.”

“I still have to eat, and honest trades are hard to
come by for a girl who grew up on the streets. As I saw it, it was either learn
to survive by my skill and wits, or end up begging or in a brothel.”

“All right. How much do you make, really, at it?”

Inina looked embarrassed. “Well, I suppose on average,
about ten or fifteen copper moons a night, sometimes a lot more, and sometimes
nothing. Out of that, I have to make payoffs to the local guards and a couple
of minor officials, and I spend some of it on gifts to make sure a few of my
friends stay my friends. So… I guess really closer to a silver moon a night to
live on.”

Arjun looked at her, reminded himself not to get lost
in her beauty and to stay focused on his line of thought. “And besides the
confidence games and kickbacks, you’ve done some actual sneaking around,
getting into places unseen, hiding, things like that?”

She looked at him quizzically, “Well, I learned a long
time ago not to rob from anywhere around here, and lately I’ve thought it was
easier and safer to wait for marks to come here than to go pilfering halfway
across town. But… yes, I’ve done a lot of sneaking and hiding in my life.”

She stopped, and touched his arm. “But what’s your
point with all this?”

“Instead of taking risks every night doing things that
make my conscience itch, why not work for me?”

“Huh?”

“I’ll pay you two silver a night to train me for a few
hours on how to move with stealth, to hide, and how to break into places
quietly.”

Inina stared at him in skeptical confusion, “I thought
you disapproved of such things, and now you want to learn them? You won’t make
money at it paying for the privilege…”

“I said nothing about wanting to make money. What I
want with such skills is something else entirely,” he said, with a dangerous
edge rising in his mind and voice.

She looked disturbed, and concerned.

“Arjun, I mean Sharur, when are you going to sleep,
and where are you going to get the money? That gold in your bags has got to run
out sometime.”

BOOK: Blood on Bronze (Blood on Bronze Book 1)
8.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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