Authors: Robyn Wideman
Tags: #Children's Books, #Fairy Tales; Folk Tales & Myths, #Arthurian, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Coming of Age, #Epic, #Sword & Sorcery, #Teen & Young Adult, #Myths & Legends, #Children's eBooks, #Literature & Fiction
Colby spotted Lilliana and quickly checked on her wounds. The blow to her head had opened up a small cut and the stab wound was deep, but it was just over her hipbone and did not look like any vital organs had been damaged. Lilliana would live. “Looks like you will live, Lilliana.”
“Spencer?” asked Lilliana.
Colby shook his head. He had not been able to save Spencer from the mercenaries. “I’m sorry, no.”
Lilliana tried to get up, “I need to find Kiana.”
Colby pushed her back down. “You stay there. I will get a healer and find your daughter.”
Just as Colby finished promising to find Kiana, she ran into the house. “Mom?” she yelled out.
“In here,” said Lilliana.
Kiana rushed to her mother, “You’re hurt,” said Kiana with tears filling her eyes. She had run all the way home to find her mother. She saw the broken door had rushed into the house, stepping over a bodies to get to her mother.
“I thought you were supposed to be spying on someone,” said Lilliana as Kiana held her hand.
“I was but then he met up with that mage from the forest. I sent Ethan to follow him while I followed the mage. The mage met up with two more mages and they attacked the city guards. I rushed home after that. I thought you would know what to do.”
“You did good, Kiana,” said Lilliana.
“Mages and mercenaries attacking at the same time, not a coincidence,” said Colby. “Who did Keyon have you following?”
“Marco Miles,” said Kiana.
“Damned traitor,” said Colby in disgust. “We will find a healer and then we shall pay Marco a visit.”
“Don’t worry about the healer,” said Lilliana. “Kiana go to the pantry and get the blue bottle and some bandages.”
“Are you sure?” questioned Colby.
“Yes, I have magic infused salve for occasions like this. I’ll be fine, Kiana can look after me.” Lilliana looked at Everet. “Thank you, you saved my life.”
Everet nodded.
“Mom, where is dad?” asked Kiana as she looked around the house while bringing the salve and bandages back to Lilliana.
Lilliana closed her eyes. Telling Kiana that her father was dead was going to be more painful than any wound inflicted by the mercenaries. “He’s gone, honey.”
Kiana’s heart felt like it was being ripped open. She paled and felt faint.
“Kiana ... look at me. I need you to be strong.” Lilliana locked her eyes with her daughter’s.
Kiana nodded, ripped open her mother’s shirt where the sword had entered, wiped her mother’s wound clear and applied the salve. Tears ran down her cheek, but Kiana focused on cleaning her mother’s wounds. Her mother’s words tore into her soul. Her father was dead. Kiana said nothing and just kept cleaning her mother’s wounds.
Lilliana reached up and wiped Kiana’s tears away, “I’m sorry.”
While Lilliana was telling Kiana of her father’s death, Colby and Evert left the Clairmont house. They were going to go find Marco Miles the traitor. It was an easy decision to agree to. Even though both men were battle hardened from many years of fighting the emotions of the young girl, the courage of her mother affected both men. They had to swallow hard painful lumps as they watched the young girl’s heart break, and her mother’s love swell, despite her own pain to comfort her daughter.
As they walked soberly and somberly up the street, Colby spoke, “You’ve been incredibly helpful today. The Guild will be in your debt. Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you get it.”
“We share a common enemy, King Ganus. I need your help defeating him.”
“You are a strange man, Everet. Everything in your past suggests you should be working with King Ganus, not against him.”
Everet thought about that statement. Colby had a point. “I think in the past I might have embraced the opportunity. King Ganus building an empire would have appealed to my lust for power.”
“And now?”
“When I came to Morthon, I dropped my titles and stopped trying to hide who I was. I embraced my savage, darker side. Yet for the first time in my life people trusted me. It’s a strange thing having people see the real you and yet put their trust in friendship in you despite all the bad you do. I put value in those people and King Ganus killed one of them and tried to kill another. There was a time when that wouldn’t have bothered me, but I find that I care deeply. I will see King Ganus dead for killing my friend.”
“You would make a good Guild member,” said Colby.
Everet grinned, “I would? You have openings for kidnappers and murderers?”
Colby shook his head, “No, but we have openings for opportunists, morally ambiguous souls who place a high value on friendship and loyalty.”
Colby and Everet arrived at the home of Marco Miles. Everet could see movement inside the window. Marco was home. “How does the Guild view torture?” asked Everet.
Colby shrugged, “A necessary evil, not my best skill but in the case of Marco, I will do my best to extract the information we need.”
Everet watched as Colby deftly picked the lock of Marco’s door. When the lock clicked open, Everet grabbed Colby’s arm. “As it happens, I have some experience with torture. Perhaps I should question Marco.”
Colby waved Everet in the door, “Be my guest.”
26
At Sea
SHARON’S BLADES SLICED THROUGH the air. The ringing of steel on iron filled the air, only to be drowned out by the cheering and yelling of the crew, many of whom were wagering on the outcome of the contest.
Valentino calmly blocked Sharon’s aggressive attacks, using precise technique and excellent instincts he was able to anticipate Sharon’s attacks and block them despite Sharon being quicker. Quick reflexes and the light weight black steel daggers that Nathan Stoneblood had forged for her gave Sharon an advantage, one she was trying to exploit and to get her first victory during their daily practice sessions.
None of the other sailors on the ship could give Valentino the challenge that Sharon could. But where Sharon had speed and superior weapons, Valentino had years of experience and training. Sharon’s fighting style, a mixture of classic Baltan techniques and Northern style, was excellent. However, Valentino had been training and fighting his entire life, sailing from continent to continent learning from warriors in each port he visited. Valentino was familiar with both styles that Sharon used and some that Sharon had never encountered.
It amused Valentino that a young woman, a teenager, was the most challenging opponent on the ship - one filled with professional soldiers. But it wasn’t her speed and quickness nor her fine weapons that made Sharon such a difficult opponent. It was her tenacity and relentless desire to get better. Every day they trained. Every day Valentino defeated her. Every day Sharon learned from her mistakes and modified her attacks and defense to account for her previous mistakes. Every day Sharon quizzed him on every minute detail from his placement of his hands to his footwork.
Valentino was proud of Sharon, she was a likeable young lady and it gave him pleasure to train her. Today, they would arrive in Balta and since,depending on the news there, this might be their last time to
train together, they were making it a memorable one. Because the wind was light and they were close to home, only a skeleton crew was working the decks. The rest of the men were watching the contest and placing bets on how long it would take Valentino to defeat the young girl. One of the crew actually had the nerve to bet on Sharon landing more than one strike. The rules of their contest was simple, first to three strikes won. That someone actually thought she would land two strikes was a very high compliment to her growing skill set. Valentino had personally accepted his wager. The girl was good, but that was easy money. Valentino liked his ale as much as the next sailor and already had plans on how to spend his winnings.
Valentino swung in a high arc towards Sharon’s neck and when her blades came up to block the attack he swept his leg out in an attempt to trip her. Sharon jumped back avoiding the leg sweep. Now that Sharon was moving backwards, Valentino pressed. His blade sliced through the air, repeatedly hitting Sharon’s blades as she adeptly blocked his blade, but Valentino continued moving forward forcing Sharon back. Behind her was one of the ship's main poles. Soon she would bump into it if he kept forcing her back.
Sharon kept backing up as Valentino pressed his attack, she knew exactly where she was and what Valentino planned. When she almost had her back against the pole Sharon took a large step to her left. She knew that Valentino would strike from her left on his next swing in an attempt to get her to move to her right and bump her into the pole. As she had hoped, Valentino swung from her left with a power swing. Instead of stepping to her right, Sharon jumped, lifting her foot so that it was on the pole. She then pushed off the pole and did a summersault mid-air! Valentino’s sword harmlessly collided with the pole and she slapped the flat of her blade against Valentino’s shoulder as she landed.
Point Sharon.
The crowd of sailors cheered and yelled.
“Risky maneuver,” said Valentino as they stood together once again in the middle of the ship. “If you missed your footing on the pole you would have decapitated yourself on my blade.”
Sharon agreed with Valentino’s assessment. She had taken a risk, but it was the only way she could score a hit against him. “If I hadn’t jumped, I would have collided with the pole, giving you a easy hit.”
“Perhaps,” said Valentino with a smile.
The next round began. Valentino attacked again using a dizzying array of spins that kept Sharon dancing and weaving to avoid being hit. On one of Valentino’s spins Sharon blocked with one dagger and went to hit his exposed opposite arm with her other dagger. But Valentino smacked her arm with a dagger.
Point Valentino.
“Hey,” protested Sharon, “you’ve never used a dagger before!”
“You’ve never scored the first hit before,” replied Valentino. It would take more than a few weeks at sea before he ran out of new tricks to use.
Again they started to fight. Sharon now had to adjust to Valentino using a sword and dagger. She had sparred enough with Nathan, who used a sword and dagger combo, that she was comfortable with the techniques and she knew how to defend against them. But she soon realized fighting Nathan with a sword and dagger was vastly different than fighting Valentino. Nathan used power and speed, Valentino was slower, not as strong, but his technique was amazing. Every time Sharon thought she had used her speed to create an opening to attack, Valentino would pivot or move a shoulder just enough to avoid being hit. Soon Sharon gambled and once again Valentino anticipated her move. Sharon felt Valentino’s blade smack her thigh.
Point Valentino.
Sharon grimaced but said nothing. Instead, she walked back to the middle and took her position. She would have to do better this round or the contest would be over. She would not make that mistake again.
This time both Valentino and Sharon refused to give ground. They stood in the middle of the ship deck and exchanged strikes, blocking and parrying each other in succession. The crowd of sailors murmured in appreciation of the impressive display of swordsmanship.
Valentino started using spin attacks again, like a whirling dervish his weapons seemed to be everywhere at once. It was all Sharon could do to block his attacks. Then Sharon remembered one of the techniques Nathan had showed her. Nathan’s original daggers had been sword breakers, large daggers with grooves meant to trap his opponents blades. The blades Nathan had made her did not have the same grooves, but they had curved cross-guards that could accomplish the same result when used at the right angle. She had not been strong enough to break the Nathan’s weapons loose, his northern strength was too much. But Valentino was not Nathan. Perhaps she could surprise him and use speed to twist his blade free before he could react.
It took several strikes from Valentino before Sharon saw an opportunity to attempt her maneuver. Valentino had stepped closer and was swinging both his dagger and his sword from right to left. Instead of blocking his dagger, Sharon pushed her hips back and sucked in her stomach. Valentino’s dagger sliced through the air just missing her belly. His momentum was still turning as his sword came around. This time Sharon let his sword hit her dagger. She let her dagger slide up his sword until the hilts were almost touching. Sharon then twisted her wrist as hard as she could. Caught off-guard, Valentino was unable to prevent her from breaking the sword loose from his grip. Sharon then brought her second dagger up against Valentino’s exposed ribs.
Point Sharon.
The sailors all cheered for Sharon. No one could remember the last time someone had scored two points against Valentino. And now she was tied two-two. Next strike landed would win!
Valentino smiled. He had not anticipated that she would try that. Using sword breakers was classic northern technique, but not one she had tried at all in their previous sessions. Sharon had some tricks of her own! “Nicely done,” said Valentino as they walked back to the middle one last time.
Sharon focused. She wanted to win. Every day Valentino beat her and finally she was within a blade’s strike of getting one victory back.
Striking out as fast as she could, Sharon hoped speed would bring her victory. But Valentino anticipated her strike and used her speed against her. Watching Sharon’s eyes, Valentino could tell she intended to lunge. As she pushed off, Valentino stepped to the side and pivoted, bringing his sword across his body he was able to block her attack and spin at same time. The spin brought him around her side where her second dagger could not strike. Using the momentum of his spin Valentino whipped his dagger hand around and struck the flat of his blade against Sharon’s thigh.
Point Valentino. Victory Valentino.
The crowd of sailors groaned in disappointment, they were hoping Sharon would do what none of them could accomplish. Arguing broke out among the sailors who had bet on the contest, other than the one sailor who had bet on Sharon, none had bet that she would last that long.