by Steve Barker
“Listen boy!” scoffed the bounty hunter, raising his voice, “Do not think you can dance around the question forever. You speak of my reputation, yet you seem to ignore what it is. You forget that I never fail to fulfill my contract, and that I never fail to get the information I desire. So save yourself the humiliation of becoming the subject of my less than polite techniques, and answer the question posed. When did you betray me?”
dGerrie raised an eyebrow as one corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly, observing the bounty hunter’s change in demeanor.
“You thrive on utter control, don’t you Var Toran? It must be frustrating that you do not currently have it. Yes, you outnumber us now fourteen to two, but that is all you have. The assumption that the odds, such as they are, favour you. Nothing else. You don’t know how this will turn out. You don’t know whether or not you are the superior combatant here, or even if you are my equal, and that frustrates you.
“You aren’t as confident as you would like us all to think, and as your reputation depends upon you appearing. And the fact that you can not force me to give you an answer infuriates you.” dGerrie could see the anger brimming within the cream white clad and self-proud bounty hunter.
“But, I will give you an answer. I will fill you in on when you sickened me to the point of feeling nausea at the sight of you. It was when you showed yourself to be a small man. Base, even. A feeble-minded fool who can not succeed without brute force weakly disguised as refinement. Without knowing who this girl was, I was contemplating undermining your search for her. I weighed your value against the value of an innocent girl, and the collateral damage you leave in your wake as you pursue the objective of your contract. Without even knowing who she was specifically, I found you lacking the value you place so highly on yourself. I found you wanting.
“Upon finding her, and discovering who she truly was, there was no contest. Her life and freedom outweighs all that you are, all that you have ever done, and all that you ever will be. So, give me your best, Dancer, for I could use some entertainment before I take my leave of you.” He snarled the moniker, savoring the effect his taunting appeared to have upon the proud bounty hunter.
Var Toran’s face was now completely void of his usual masking smile. His brow tightened and his eyes flared with rage as he glanced at Commander Tollison and nodded, motioning with his sword for the order to be given.
The Commander waved for four of his men to move in on dGerrie, who was now almost entirely encircled by troops, but for a small angle at his back where Hollyglade stood holding her sword as menacingly as she could pretend to.
dGerrie shifted slightly to allow the men to the western edge of the circle a line to his back. He was predicting that men who were used to fighting in groups generally allowed the man who had the opponent at the greatest disadvantage, the chance to strike first. dGerrie trusted his hearing, and the fact that the sun was now casting long shadows.
Lowering his head slightly, dGerrie shifted weight to his front foot. The strike came as expected, and dGerrie stepped to his left, turning and swinging his long sword at one of the men on the north edge of the circle to force their guard up, and allowing the attacker’s slash to pass him. With a neat and agile flick of the short sword’s tip, he caught the first man in the armpit of his sword hand, continued with the momentum of his turn, and slashed behind the knee of the man ducking his initial feint. Both men dropped to the ground as the onlookers momentarily focused on them.
Taking advantage of the distraction, dGerrie employed the same spinning double slash he had used in the alleyway earlier, and caught the third man just above his belt, opening his abdomen. The fourth man moved to step over one of his fallen comrades, attempting to thrust his sword simultaneously. dGerrie read the clumsy move, slapped the blade away with his short sword, and with skillful precision, slid the tip of his long sword beneath the wrist guard of the attacking soldier, slicing his arm open and causing the sword to drop from his hand.
Returning to his initial position, to put Hollyglade at his back once more, dGerrie glared at the bounty hunter. The four injured men backed away, holding their wounds, as the commander whistled, calling for a medic.
“Impressive” sneered the bounty hunter. “There are eight of you. Get him!” he snarled.
What came next was unorganised and chaotic, which was exactly what dGerrie had hoped for. The first two men that came close enough, dGerrie sidestepped, sending them toward Hollyglade, but not without sticking a foot out to trip the second, as he spun to slash at the men that followed.
Seeing the man coming for her, Hollyglade took a step back, held her sword with both hands, and focused on his eyes. Her heart began to race, and the tension in her muscles began to increase. Her senses heightened, as she forced out a breath through clenched teeth. In his eyes she saw a moment’s hesitation, what must have been him calculating how he might arrest her without doing any physical harm, as he reached to his belt to grab a club with his off hand, glancing down for a moment to find his grip.
In the split second his eyes flitted downward, she lunged forward with all the speed she had. Her length was much more than he had calculated, and his reaction to the lunge was too slow. The tip of her blade slipped between the layers of his brigandine and spaulder. He cried out in pain, dropped his sword, and jumped away, heading after the other injured men. As he cleared himself out, Hollyglade targeted the tripped man, who was now almost on his feet.
As he looked down to pick up the sword which had bounced out of his hand in the fall, she placed a swift kick to the side of his head. Though she was slight of build, her legs were long enough, and her boots were hard enough, to generate a significant impact. The man’s eyes rolled back, and he was unconscious before he hit the ground. Hollyglade added another kick to the back of his head for surety, before looking up to see dGerrie engaged with the rest of the soldiers.
As she looked on, two more armed soldiers came into view, and joined the fray. She began to shake, feeling anxiety and fear begin to swell within her chest. As she watched her friend continue to battle the eight men that surrounded him, she could sense the power within her vibrating as it begged for release. She took two deep breaths as she watched dGerrie cut down a pair of men with a baffling whir of flying steel. As two more men dropped to the ground and fell back from him, dGerrie continued his spinning style of attack.
This was his best hope for dealing with so many men, as he believed he could constantly update himself on positions, stance, and the movement of his foes by being able to reacquire sight of them on each consecutive rotation, when they may be lost from his view during an attack or dodge. Seeing a shadow raise a sword above its head, dGerrie stepped further to his left with this rotation, and let the swing pass by him to the ground as he delivered a kick to the man to the attacker’s left, stabbed another in the leg opposite that one, and followed through with a slash across the arms of the man whose sword was now hitting the dirt after his missed downward swing.
Another man slashed for his head, and dGerrie ducked under the attack, letting the man’s momentum carry him toward Hollyglade. He extended both arms as he swung both swords in opposite directions to catch one man in the the gut, and another in the thigh, with the tip of either sword, following through by striking the man he had kicked, with the butt of his longsword. Three men remained on the offensive, while dGerrie registered The Dancer out of the corner of his eye, standing back from the fray. The men stopped for a moment to glance at each other and then back at dGerrie. dGerrie kept his gaze on the three men as he called back over his shoulder
“Sprout?”
As the man slipped past dGerrie, he had to hop over his fallen troop mate in mid rotation as his missed slash carried him toward her. In order not to trip, the man glanced down at the soldier lying beneath him. As he did so, he took an uncontrolled swing at Hollyglade. Seeing his attack come as he was midair over the unconscious man on the ground, Hollyglade stepped to her right as she made a c
rude but effective parry of the slash.
The midair, yet slight redirection of the man’s attack sent him marginally off target, just enough for Hollyglade to bring up her sword and swipe it down on his back. The blow only barely cut through his brigandine, but was enough to knock him down. Seeing him hit the ground, Hollyglade reacted by stabbing him in the bottock, which resulted in a scream of pain. She then placed a firm boot to the side of his head, sending him into unconsciousness. Turning back to the road, she answered her friend’s call.
“I’m still here. Not hurt, so far.”
“Stay where you are, then.”
Turning his attention fully to the three remaining troops, dGerrie took a deep breath and widened his stance, pointing the tip of each blade at the two men on the outside. The middle one moved first, lunging forward with a two handed stab. dGerrie stepped left, spun right to deflect the stab with his longsword, letting the attack pass him by. With the follow through of his pirouette, he swung his short sword on the backhand toward the man who had been on his right.
The slash was parried, but dGerrie made another half turn and swung at the man’s calf. That slash was also knocked aside, but the second attack dGerrie made with his short sword found its mark at the man’s elbow. It was enough to cause his sword to fall, as dGerrie turned back to see the third man bringing a downward diagonal slash straight for his head. dGerrie leaned back as he brought the long sword up with his right hand, hilt first, to deflect the blow with the base of his blade.
With his left leg, he stepped back to regain his balance, used the momentum of the parry to swing the long sword around his own head, and then swung over the third man’s head to connect with the neck of the one who had attacked first. Without a pause and with a flick of his wrist, dGerrie flipped his short sword into the air, catching it in a backhanded grip and stabbing the last man through the back. As he did so, a sudden shooting pain leapt up from his right thigh, and he stumbled to the ground.
Looking down, he registered the fletchings of a crossbow bolt sticking out of his upper leg. He dropped the longsword to place a hand on the ground to steady himself, as he looked up to see Trenon Var Toran pulling back the string of a crossbow, and raising it to fire once more. dGerrie raised his short sword, pointing it at the bounty hunter, as he tried to stand. Looking at Var Toran, dGerrie clenched his jaw, snarled with his lips, and pressed himself upward.
Just as he lifted his right hand from the ground and placed it on his right thigh to push himself to stand, another searing pain leapt from his left shoulder. The strike of the bolt spun him sideways as he dropped the shortsword.
“Coward!” he spat as he glared at the bounty hunter. Then, everything went black as the last thing dGerrie heard was a wooden thud.
Seeing her friend go limp and fall to the ground, Hollyglade could not contain herself. She ran to his side, ignoring the commander who stood over him with the spear in his hand, the back of which had just rendered dGerrie unconscious. She shoved the commander out of her way, as he seemed unthreatened by her, and rolled dGerrie over to look at him. She could not see whether or not he was breathing. She began to vibrate with power, as rage began to push what control she had left, out from the forefront of her focused concentration.
Her hold on the immense power within her began to slip, as her thoughts began to shift away from containing it. She lifted her head toward the bounty hunter, the man who had been the architect of her flight, her fears, the death of too many innocent bystanders. It had been men like him who had pushed her to the breaking point ten years ago when she last released an outpouring of power, when they had killed her parents and tried to capture her. Now once again she faced the death of someone she cared about, whom she had seen as family, loved, and who had loved her. She was torn between destroying the man who had caused so much collateral damage in his quest to capture her, and becoming the cause of even more collateral damage in resisting that capture.
As Hollyglade fought the conflict within her, the power began to leak out from her uncontrolled, like the trickle of water from a cracked cup. The air began to get hot, and the ground beneath her began to tremble, waves of vibrating power coursed through her limbs like lightning about to crack the sky. She rose to her feet, clenching her fists, and tightened her jaw as she bared her teeth. With her head slightly lowered, she glared at the man who had hunted her down and slain her adopted brother.
Seeing the display of awesome force begin to rise from the girl, Var Toran knocked another bolt in the crossbow. As he was about to raise it, he paused and took a step back, releasing one hand from the readied weapon and holding it up, pleading with the girl to halt. As he did so, Commander Tollison, who had in the last few seconds stepped back toward the girl as she was rising from her knees, swung the spear.
The butt of the pole weapon connected cleanly to the back of the girl’s head, sending red hair flying, as she was knocked forward from the impact. As the shaft of the spear connected with the girl, a burst of energy shot forth from her, knocking the bounty hunter, the Commander, and the few men who were still standing, to the ground.
As he hit the ground, Var Toran’s ears began to ring loudly. His vision blurred, yet he remained conscious. After a few seconds, he stood up and tried to regain his balance. He looked over to see where the girl was, to find her slumped over the unconscious body of his now former employee, looking unresponsive. He moved toward her with the intent of checking to make sure she was still alive, when Tollison stepped over her and raised the spear toward him.
“Stop, bounty hunter.”
“What are you pretending at Commander? Your job is done here. I have my target, you are relieved.”
“Your little misadventure here has cost me either the health or the lives of twenty men. You will not take this girl from here under my watch. She will be processed by the rule of law.”
“No, Commander, she will not. My purpose serves the King, and I carry out this contract with his authority. You have the letter to prove it.”
“Then you and I shall have that sparring match you were so interested in before you lost your nerve with this one.” The Commander looked down at dGerrie’s limp body, and then back to the bounty hunter.
“My dear Commander, that is not a fight you can win.” The bounty hunter drew his sword, and stepped to one side to begin to circle the Commander. After a couple of steps, he stopped and took a fencing stance. As he did so, the he saw something he did not expect, but that brought him to a halt.
As the Commander began to move forward from his position straddling the two fallen fugitives, one of the men who had been bested, swung his club, and connected with the back of the Commander’s head. With a crack, the Commander’s eyes rolled back in his head, he stiffened, and fell to the ground. Var Toran instinctively raised his sword toward the man holding the club.
“There’s been enough of that for one day. Take your prize and leave.” Said the trooper as he dropped the club and put his hand back in his armpit to try to stop the flow of blood.
“A wise decision, friend,” replied Var Toran.
As the medics arrived with a cart to take away the wounded, Var Toran led his horse to where the girl lay sprawled over her defender. Leaning over to check her for breathing, he whispered to her
“The sorcerer will be glad of his prize, and I’ll be glad of my gold. Come now girl, it is time for the road.”
Tying her hands with rope, he lifted her over his shoulder and draped her over his horse. She let out a groan, but did not seem to wake. He climbed into the saddle, turned his horse northward, and began the three day journey to Magnaville.
VI : Hostility
It was mid-afternoon, and the young King was enjoying spending time in the main hall of Whiterock socializing with the various Lords, Ladies, and members of noble houses who made up the court. He had found solace in such socialization as of late, and was beginning to truly be able to take some joy in the company of others. It had been more than a few week
s since the disappearance of his brother, the death of his father, and his transition from Prince, to Crown Prince, to King. It had seemed to Harford that he had been unable to sufficiently mourn his losses before having to take responsibility for an entire kingdom. He was thankful for the help and guidance of the Lords of the court, his Vestry, and his closest ally, the Sorcerer Ni’Morstrom.
“Tell me Lord Runde, have your family always been seafarers? I had no idea that fishing could be such a lucrative enterprise” inquired King Harford of the grizzled Lord.
“Yes, my King. For as many generations as my family’s history has been written down, the writing has been of the sea. You know, Your Grace, that during my father’s, and your Grace’s grandfather’s time, house Runde was mainly responsible for the training and recruitment of the Royal Navy. In those days there was much need for it, as skirmishes with both Demaria and Ellendor were common, though throughout your father’s reign, there were no incidents with Demaria, and our disputes with Ellendor were very rare indeed. It has been a welcome change in our house, to be mainly occupied with casting nets and hauling fish. Has your Grace been at sea often?”
The King looked at his feet for a moment, realising that he did not identify with any aspect of this Lord’s house, and chosen life. He yearned for someone to connect with on a personal level, and hoped that there would be someone among the members of the court with whom he might find common ground.
“Sadly no, My Lord. I have never sailed. I get seasick. Even the small boats my brother would take me for rides in, at the Hot Lake, made me feel ill. I do enjoy the beach though. The warm sand between my toes in the summer is always fun. Maybe I’ll have time to go to a beach next summer, and play with some friends. I do like building sand castles. Have you ever built one?”
