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Authors: J.R. McGinnity

Tags: #female action hero, #sword sorcery epic, #magic abilities

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BOOK: The Talented
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I want Rosch to have that
knowledge. A couple of weeks working with the quarterstaff will
hopefully help prepare him in that regard.”

Ricco gestured vaguely
with a spoonful of oatmeal. “Since you’re only going to be using
the quarterstaff for a couple weeks, you can count me out for
training the boy. Try Oliver.”

Adrienne shook her head.
Oliver might be the most skilled with the quarterstaff in Kyrog,
but he was not the best of teachers. “I know enough to teach Rosch
the basics.”

Ricco shrugged and resumed
eating his food, scraping the plate clean and going back for more
before Adrienne was halfway done with her own plate.

••••••


Can’t you just threaten
them with a sword?” Rosch asked. “They won’t know you don’t want to
kill them, and that way no one gets hurt.”

Adrienne looked to the sky
and wished for patience. Sometimes, when she was introducing a new
idea to Rosch, she thought the young man might have come to Kyrog
from Roua just to test her. “People are stupid. Remember that.” The
quarterstaff could be lethal when used correctly, but it was the
non-lethal opportunities that it presented which Adrienne liked
most about the weapon. “You might know it will be easier on them if
they just sit down and shut up, but half the time some stupid,
inexperienced civilian is still going to try and get past you. And
stupid people are liable to skewer themselves on swords by
accident.”


You sound like you have
experience with this.” Rosch was no doubt hoping for an interesting
story.


I’ve encountered such
things on patrols.” She remembered with a pang the foolish farmer
who had come at her with a kitchen knife on one of those outings.
There had been bandits in the area, and Adrienne had only wanted to
check and make sure that everything was all right at the
out-of-the-way farm.

The farmer was lucky to
have escaped with only the deep gash on his arm, a wound which had
probably affected the use of his hand permanently. The injury had
been self-inflicted from when he had fallen into her sword while
trying to “defend” his pigs. A wild lunge with his knife had forced
him off-balance, and he had reached out for support and connected
with her bared sword instead.

She had been only sixteen,
and it was not a story that she wanted to share. “Just focus on
learning how to use a quarterstaff, and worry about when you’ll
need one later.”

Rosch still looked
somewhat unsure, but he got into a semblance of his typical
fighting stance, facing her.


No, here.” Adrienne put
her hands on Rosch’s hips, moving him into a slightly more balanced
position. “You need to shift your balance a little lower. The power
of your strikes it going to come from your core, so it needs to be
strong.” Another minute adjustment to his hips and she pulled back,
putting her hands on his and moving them along the quarterstaff
until they were far enough apart. “Range is important with the
quarterstaff. For optimal range, you should keep your hands like
this whenever both are on the quarterstaff.”

After a few adjustments,
all of the physical groundwork Adrienne had laid out made holding
the general stance easy. The mental groundwork made Rosch more
biddable, so that she no longer had to justify every instruction
she gave. Adrienne wasn’t sure which pleased her more. The skills
he was learning would serve him well and keep him alive in the
battles he would inevitably face. And he would be an asset to
Samaro in a way that he never would have been had he stayed in Roua
for the duration of his training.

CHAPTER
THREE

 

Adrienne sat on a wooden
bench looking out over the plains from her seat on top of one of
the guard towers. She was on duty for the next four hours, and when
she saw a cloud of dust in the distance she almost thought it was a
result of the heat playing tricks on her eyes. She squinted against
the afternoon light and saw that the dust was being kicked up by a
lone horse moving quickly down the otherwise deserted road to
Kyrog. She signaled to her fellow guardsmen that someone was
approaching, then settled back down on her bench to
wait.

The wait was not as long
as Adrienne had expected, and when the rider finally pulled the
horse to a stop outside of Kyrog’s gates she saw that the beast was
lathered from too many miles covered too fast.

The woman riding the horse
looked to be in little better shape. She was slumped over with
weariness, and Adrienne recognized the glazed eyes as a mixture of
fear and fatigue. A ripple of apprehension traveled down Adrienne’s
spine as she scanned the countryside for the slightest movement
that might indicate a pursuing force. She saw nothing, and motioned
toward the guard standing next to the gate mechanism. “Let her in,”
Adrienne said, climbing down the ladder of the guard tower so that
she could speak to the woman.

It took two men to help
the woman down without her falling off her mount and even then she
had to cling to the footsore horse to keep from
collapsing.


What happened?” Adrienne
asked, standing directly in front of the woman so that the
exhausted traveler would have something to focus on.


A group of men,” the woman
said in a voice devoid of emotion. “They came to my home and
attacked. I got away.”

The woman fell silent, and
Adrienne wanted to shake her to get her talking again. They needed
to know if Kyrog was in danger.

One of the more patient
men on guard duty stepped forward, taking a spot between Adrienne
and the stranger. “Ma’am,” he said, keeping his voice low and
soothing, “where is your home?”


Pelarion.”

Adrienne recognized the
name of the village. It was not far to the west of Kyrog. She
turned to one of the soldiers who had come to see what the
commotion was about. “Tell Captain Garrett that Pelarion has been
attacked.”

The woman from Pelarion
shuddered slightly at Adrienne’s raised words, and Adrienne wished
she was able to offer some comfort.


Can you tell us more?”
Adrienne asked, moving so that she could see the woman more
clearly, trying to imitate the soothing tone of the other guard’s
voice. From the woman’s expression, she was not
successful.


There were so many of
them. They came with swords and spears.” A tear welled up in one
eye and spilled onto her cheek, but the woman seemed not to notice.
“They started killing people. My husband…”

It was hard to tell from
looking at the woman exactly what had happened. Pelarion was a hard
two day ride from Kyrog, and the woman’s filthiness could be due to
no more than dusty roads and sweating in the dry heat of the
Samaroan plains, but there was more dirt on her back and knees than
anywhere else, and her skirts were torn.

Adrienne knew enough of
the brigands who roamed Samaro to imagine what the man had died
protecting his wife from. She pitied the woman, knowing what it
felt like to have someone die so that she might live. It was
something the woman would never forget, something that would creep
up on her during the night and weigh on her soul. But rather than
crippling her, the fear and loss had brought her here, to Kyrog,
where she could receive help.


Get some of the serving
women to arrange a tent and a hot bath for her,” Adrienne told
another soldier who had stopped to see what was happening at the
gate. “And have someone hot-walk that horse before stabling it. I
have to stay here.” Adrienne wanted to question the woman more, or
speak to Captain Garrett herself, but she was the senior soldier at
the gates, and could not leave her station while on guard duty, not
without an order from one of the officers.

And there were other
people in the camp that could offer better comfort than
Adrienne.

She did not have to wait
long for new orders to come. Captain Garrett sent for her within
the half hour, and she reported to his office
immediately.


Is this about the woman?”
Adrienne asked.

The captain’s face was
serious. “Yes. If Pelarion has been attacked by brigands, they are
likely still in the village. I am sending a group of soldiers to
deal with the invaders.”

Adrienne nodded, hoping
that she would be allowed to be part of that group. Captain Garrett
knew she had been looking for an assignment outside of Kyrog since
before Rosch had arrived. Training the Yearling had superseded
that, but she still wanted time away from the camp, time to go out
and make a difference rather than just endlessly train. Purging
Pelarion of the men who had taken over would be exactly the change
she had been looking for. “What can I do?” she asked.


I want you to lead the
group going to Pelarion,” Captain Garrett said. “No more than
twenty, and I want the names of those men tonight.”


Of course,” Adrienne said,
hardly daring to believe the captain’s words. He’d never had her
lead a group on a mission such as this before. “I will make my
choices wisely.”


And quickly,” the captain
told her. “I want you ready to go by dawn tomorrow.”

••••••


The village is just a few
miles ahead,” Ricco told Adrienne and the rest of the group when he
rejoined them. The woman from Pelarion had still been nearly
incoherent the morning Adrienne and her men had left Kyrog, and had
therefore been unable to give a clear report, so Adrienne had sent
Ricco ahead to see what challenges they would face in the village.
“It doesn’t look good.”

Adrienne nodded. She had
been honored and excited to be chosen by Captain Garrett to lead
the group to Pelarion, but she had known that disposing of invaders
in a village would not be the same as taking care of outlaws in the
countryside. They could not ride in and kill or capture without
impunity, their duty was to save who and what they
could.


I didn’t expect it would.”
Adrienne turned to the men she had chosen to accompany her to
Pelarion. Rosch was one of the nineteen chosen, and though Captain
Garrett had questioned her decision to include the Yearling,
Adrienne had been adamant that he was ready to leave Kyrog and the
safety of practice in a sparring ring. There would be enough
experienced soldiers to ensure that Pelarion would be reclaimed,
and Rosch would gain much needed experience. If he wasn’t ready for
a real fight by now, he might never be. After talking to Mylig, she
had selected two of the more experienced Yearlings as well. They
would be leaving Kyrog soon, and Mylig wanted them to experience
real fighting before they left.


What do we do now?” one of
the men asked, looking off in the direction of the village as
though he could see the brigands from where he stood.

There were several
suggestions. Some of the men thought that they should wait to go in
until nightfall, when they would be able to sneak in unnoticed,
while others thought leaving for Pelarion immediately would be the
best course of action. They could be in the village by late
afternoon if they followed that plan. They knew that the village
had already been at the attackers’ mercy for several
days.

But if they left now,
there would not be time to make careful plans for how to take back
the village. Adrienne’s blood sang for her to act, but years of
study had taught her that battles were won by strategy as often as
by strength.

Ricco must have read
Adrienne’s expression and her intention to wait and plan, for he
put a restraining hand on her arm. “Ade, what they’re doing in
there…” he trailed off helplessly.

Adrienne studied Ricco’s
eyes, so dark they were nearly black, and saw the reflection of the
brigands’ cruelty etched into the dark orbs. Waiting even a few
hours would subject the people of Pelarion to more of the harsh
treatment from the lawless men. Pain and death always played a part
when villages such as Pelarion were assaulted, and Adrienne knew
that the longer they waited, the more likely it was that villagers
would be hurt and killed to entertain those who had taken
Pelarion.


We’ll move now,” Adrienne
said decisively.

The flat plains that
dominated this part of Samaro made it impossible to sneak up to
Pelarion on horseback, so they picketed their horses in a grove as
close to the village as they dared ride. The two hour march to
Pelarion allowed Adrienne to consider and reject half a dozen
plans. Ricco had been able to sneak up to the very edge of the
village and observe what was happening. Although a few of the
twenty-some men who had invaded the formerly peaceful village stood
guard, most were enjoying the opportunities a village like Pelarion
presented. There was food and drink aplenty, and women to be made
sport of.


We’ll enter in groups of
three,” Adrienne said, “and encircle the village. We’ll come in
from different sides and keep the marauders from forming a unified
defense.”

Adrienne outlined the
basic plan as they walked, splitting them into groups of three and
one group of two. She, Ricco, and Rosch would approach on the main
road, drawing attention away from the groups that would be sneaking
in from the sides. When they got within sight of Pelarion, the
groups split up, and Adrienne led her group brashly down the
road.

Five men were waiting for
them when they arrived at the village, and from the leers on their
faces when they caught sight of Adrienne garbed in her tight
leather
swa’il
,
she did not need to guess if they were some of the men who had
invaded Pelarion.


They’re armed,” one of
older men guarding the town cautioned, looking over the swords
Adrienne, Ricco, and Rosch all wore sheathed at their sides. He
seemed to be the leader of the small group, and intelligent enough
to know that three armed people arriving at the village less than a
week after it was taken was not mere coincidence. “No telling if
they’re alone or not. Take care of them, and warn the other
men.”

Adrienne and Ricco gave
the men no chance to do either. They sprang into action, leaping
forward. Rosch joined the fight a moment later, when one of the men
darted past Adrienne to engage him.

Rosch’s moves lacked the
grace of Adrienne’s or the brutal strength of Ricco’s, but all of
the practice accumulated in the past months made him more than
equal to the talents of the outlaw he was fighting. He fought the
man with skill, blocking and parrying with his sword. He tried out
one of the riskier maneuvers Adrienne had taught him, but when the
brigand evaded it and came back with a powerful blow Rosch lost his
grip on his sword.

The sword went spinning
out of his hand, and when his opponent swung his sword at Rosch’s
head, Rosch did the only thing he could: he dove and
rolled.

Rosch got quickly to his
feet behind the man, and in a move Adrienne had had him practice
over and over, he kicked the man’s feet out from under him, buying
Rosch enough time to recover his sword.

They resumed the fight on
equal ground, sword-for-sword, parry-for-parry.

Rosch’s moves came faster
and faster, pushing his opponent back. A strong slash drove the
outlaw’s sword up and out with no time to block, and Rosch drove
his sword into the man’s gut, stealing his life with one brutal
stab.

Rosch stared down at the
fallen man, unaware of Adrienne’s presence until she laid a gloved
hand on his shoulder. “You did what you had to do, Jeral,” Adrienne
told him, not noticing that she had used his first name for the
first time. Her grip tightened. “But there is more to be
done.”

The soldiers, led by
Adrienne, reclaimed Pelarion with minimal injuries incurred. Ricco
had received a shallow cut on one of his arms while fighting the
two men who had targeted him, but it was only one mark amid dozens
of other, older scars his skin bore. Another of the Kyrogeans had
twisted an ankle in a bad roll, but otherwise the group Adrienne
had led to Pelarion was unharmed.

One of the brigands had
been captured during the attack and would be left to the justice of
Pelarion. Adrienne doubted that he would long outlive his former
companions.


Do we leave now?” Jeral
asked Adrienne. The destruction of the village, the dead bodies of
outlaws and civilians, the devastated women, the wide-eyed
children, made him sick, and he longed for the familiar sights of
Kyrog.

Adrienne shook her head.
“We will stay and help them with what we can,” she told the
Yearling. She too had a heavy feeling in her stomach when she
looked out at the village, and knew their job was not yet done. The
hardest part, dealing with the survivors, had just
begun.

No soldiers had been here
to stop the brigands before they had invaded the peaceful village,
raping and destroying as they went. Now it would be up to soldiers
to do what they could for those left behind. There was little
Adrienne could do to help with their emotional losses. Growing up
amongst soldiers had not taught her the platitudes other women
might use to help soften the brutal punch of grief. But she could
do other things.

BOOK: The Talented
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