Book Read Free

The Descendant (The Diamond Sword Chronicles Book 1)

Page 10

by M. M. Whan


  The young man spun a deft circle, trailing his left foot to trip Dorien while Eferath followed through with a well-placed elbow to the back of the neck. Dorien felt his legs go numb beneath him as he dropped to his knees, but though the lower half of his body was numb, he could keenly feel the tip of Eferath’s sword against the back of his neck.

  After several moments of stunned silence, Eferath deftly spun his sword in two one-handed circles before returning the weapon to his sheath. Dorien stood up a moment later, smiling widely despite the embarrassing defeat. He turned to regard the students in attendance and his smile grew with their stunned expressions.

  “Perfect,” he remarked as he stared at Eferath directly. “Perfectly executed. I have never seen a student show such patience and skill in combination.” Eferath nodded his gratitude for the compliment but they were interrupted a moment later.

  “Right,” scoffed Corbin derisively, arms folded across his chest. He was eyeing Eferath with contempt. When Dorien looked at him, the smug prince cast a disapproving glance Eferath’s way.

  “You may go, young fighter, well done.” He congratulated as he pat the young man on the back.

  “So, you think you could do better?” Dorien asked Corbin a moment later and the prince laughed, striding up to the General with a purely superior look upon his face.

  Eferath stood beside Edward, arms folded across his chest, a look of concentration on his face.

  “Nicely done,” Edward remarked with an amused chuckle. “Had I known you were this good, I wouldn’t have held back during our duel.”

  “Shut up.” Eferath retorted, trying hard to suppress his grin. The pair watched as Corbin drew his blade. Eferath watched the prince anxiously, eager to see his skills in action. Edward was also equally anxious to see the pompous prince in action.

  Corbin boldly drew his weapon, taking a fighter’s stance. Dorien did likewise, though he bowed deferentially to his student, and Corbin did not.

  “All right, assume a defensive-“ Dorien tried to explain but Corbin cut him off in the form of a well-aimed right to left sword slash at neck level.

  “Best defense is a great offense!” The prince shouted an old litany as he flung himself at Dorien with seeming reckless abandon. Both blades clashed loudly, throwing sparks as the two went into a clinch.

  Dorien broke the hold, then back peddled as the student charged in again. Dorien allowed himself to fall into a steady rhythm, making openings in his defenses appear where there were none. Of course, the overeager prince was happy to oblige at every opportunity. Corbin brought his blade in on a swooping diagonal arc which the skilled instructor caught easily, turning his blade around, down, and out, forcing the upstart’s blade out wide to the side. The move left a hole in Dorien’s defenses, and left Corbin with only one effective attack.

  “Hah!” Corbin cried a moment later. “Got you!” He accentuated his point by thrusting straight in for Dorien’s gut.

  The strike never got close.

  Dorien, pleased that his nephew so willingly fell into his trap, was already moving before Corbin was finished speaking. The instructor deftly side-stepped to the left of the thrusting blade, using his opponent’s momentum against him as he stepped forward, placing his right foot behind Corbin’s right leg while he brought his right arm across the stunned student’s chest. All in one movement, Dorien brought his right leg back to slam into the back of Corbin’s knee, just as he pushed forward on his chest. The move effectively took the young man’s legs out from under him, as Dorien’s arm bent him over backward.

  A half heartbeat later, Corbin was lying flat on his back, staring up into the sky as a chorus of chuckles sprang up from the crowd. Almost as if the prince didn’t know he was lying on his back, or he was too embarrassed to get up and try to salvage what was left of his dignity. Edward and Eferath of course tried as hard as they could to keep from bursting out in laughter.

  Dorien offered his hand to help the young prince to his feet, but the proud youngster merely snorted and slapped the hand away as he scrambled to his feet. Eferath noticed Dorien’s expression and could tell that he was trying hard not to laugh as much as they were. Dorien turned to regard the rest of the class, and he smiled.

  “The defensive posture can be your greatest ally, or,” he said as he nodded in Corbin’s direction. “Your greatest enemy.” A few titters of laughter rose up from the crowd, but were silenced immediately as the prince cast an angry scowl their way.

  “Thank you, prince of Escoran,” Dorien said a moment later respectfully, even though he could barely keep the simmering anger out of his voice at the title. “You may go.” As soon as Corbin pointedly disappeared from sight within the crowd, the instructor turned to them, his expression serious.

  “This is very important for all of you to understand. There are times when you should take the offensive, yes. But taking to the offense without taking a measure of your opponent’s skills will leave you laying on your back, or dead. By taking to the defensive, you are forcing your opponent to tip his hand, to use what offensive skills he has to try to defeat you as quickly as possible. Patience, my young pupils, patience is what wins battles.” He looked around and noticed the many nodding heads among the group.

  “Though I do not wish to confuse any of you, there is such a thing as being too defensive. Allow me to explain.” Dorien brought a low ranked instructor up to join him, and both drew their blades.

  “A good sword fighter can identify flaws in their opponent’s attack routines in just a few exchanges, and exploit them. Staying too long on the defensive, will allow a skilled opponent to set you up into a trap, or even exploit your defensive flaws.” When Dorien was finished speaking, he and the other instructor sparred at a slow speed to show an example of defending too long, then showing an example of the proper way.

  When they were finished, Dorien looked around at the crowd, asking the students to see if there were any questions about the lecture. Before he could answer the few questions there were, he was tapped on the shoulder by a young boy, a herald, who whispered into his ear. Dorien looked toward the south, then nodded.

  “Right on time,” he remarked as he turned to regard his students. The sound of formation marching soon filled the air, and the group of students turned as one to watch the procession. It was not long before the unmistakable banner of the Elite Crystal Guard was visible, floating high above the ranks of soldiers.

  The symbol that marked the prestigious military brigade was a crystalline kite shield with a pair of longswords on either side standing vertically from the hilt. Beneath the symbol was a banner with ancient runes of power. Fitari Cahra Necros, which translated into: Fight Until Death. It was a commonly known slogan that meant much more than simple words to the men and women that comprised the Elite Crystal Guard. They were a way of life, an oath taken once enrolled in the elite fighting brigade. The guard was the most highly trained fighting force in all of the realms. Nearly every day their time was taken up by training exercises and missions all around the kingdom.

  Out of every other army, the Elite Crystal Guard had the lowest lost to kill ratio. On nearly every mission, the Guard managed an impressive ten kills for every one of their own lost. Against certain enemies, that ratio only increased.

  There was something particularly special about this group of elites though, Eferath soon discovered. They were none other than the Grand Elites, the best of the best.

  They were also all female.

  Chapter 7

  EFERATH COULDN’T BELIEVE HIS EYES. The entire platoon of Elite Crystal Guard was female! As extraordinary as the Elites were, these women soldiers were the best of the best. They were possessed of strength, speed, and skill to more than match even weapon masters and expert strategists. It was not uncommon for women to not be taken seriously in the military, but one look at the skillful weapon handling of these particular women could easily dispel any thoughts of inadequacy. The level of skill the
se women possessed made tingling sensations run up and down Eferath’s spine.

  “These highly trained, and highly skilled young women here will be administering last-minute training in preparation to your graduation assignment. They will also be testing you to see if any of you have the potential to join the elite.” Dorien explained to the stunned expressions of the group as the highly trained ranks came to an earth-shaking halt.

  As soon as he finished speaking, a young woman appearing to be not much older than Eferath herself, stepped forward. She was beautiful by any standard, and she stood with perfect posture with her chin held proudly. Her hair was the color of silver, but not from age, and had the most lustrous shine he had ever seen. Her eyes were a deep sparkling green and crinkled at the sides whenever she smiled. Surprisingly enough, given her rank and profession, she smiled quite often. Her armour was polished silver chain mail with many-faceted clear crystal clasps that sparkled in the bright sunlight. Eferath was so captivated by her appearance, that he almost didn’t hear Edward talking beside him.

  “A half-elf.” He said softly. “Half human, half elf. All of their beauty, their immortality, and none of our weaknesses.” He explained unnecessarily. After all, Denara was a half-elf, too. Speaking of Denara; Eferath felt a gentle touch on his chin, followed by the clack of his teeth as Denara pushed his jaw closed.

  “Do you think I would have a chance with someone like her?” Edward asked under his breath as he eyed her like he was starving to death and she were his last meal. Eferath stared at his friend for a long moment, wondering if Edward had taken leave of his senses. “I mean, we are both warriors. So, we already have something in common!”

  “Right,” Eferath replied dryly. “Because one similarity is all you’ll need. In your case, you should hope she is as blind as she is desperate.”

  Edward’s mouth opened as if he were intending on saying something but closed with a clack of his teeth a moment later.

  “I can assure you that I am neither of those.” Her voice was as cool as a mountain stream, yet calm as a lake on a windless morning. Eferath closed his eyes for a moment in regret even as he heard Denara snicker behind him. When he opened them, he was startled to see the woman was standing before him. The tight knot that formed in his stomach suddenly, coupled with Edward’s vain attempts at keeping his chuckling quiet, the young man knew that he had made a grievous error. Eferath averted his eyes, and scratched the back of his head as casually as his trembling fingers would allow.

  “I apologize for speaking disrespectfully Captain.” Eferath bowed respectfully. “It is not a suitable excuse, but I did not expect you to overhear.”

  “Quite all right.” She said, her voice somewhere between winter and spring. “As your uninspiring, and ineloquent companion here pointed out, I am a half-elf.” She pointed to her sloped, pointed ears to clarify her statement.

  Edward stammered, his face taking on an amusing shade of red as he fumbled over his words. “Captain. My apologies… I-“

  “Paha!” Corbin scoffed, the volume of his outburst very effectively saving Edward from making any more verbal gaffes. Everyone turned to regard him as Corbin folded his arms across his chest in as perfect an example of petulance Eferath had ever seen. “As if I, a prince of Escoran, could learn anything from a woman!” He added that last word in a derisive snort, his eyes moving up and down the body of each woman as if appraising their value. Eferath noticed a flash of anger cross the half-elf’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

  “However,” Corbin continued, stepping forward to get a closer look at her. “There are other things we could compete against each other for.” He added a lewd wink, and moved to pat her on her backside. A lightning quick move had the half-elf’s hand resting comfortably on the hilt of her sword, the blade pulled slightly. She stared at him, practically begging him to carry out the gesture so she could remove the fool’s hand, as well as any other appendage that crossed the invisible line that was her personal space. Corbin recoiled his hand as if bitten then glared at her.

  “You dare!” He started, but another elite stepped between the two. She was taller, and definitely human. Probably a northerner, Eferath thought, going by her high cheekbones and wider stature than that of her comrades. She was large, but Eferath had no doubt believing she was all muscle.

  “I will deal with him,” the woman said in a surprisingly soft voice as she gently pat her companion on the shoulder.

  Corbin began laughing. “I like how that sounded.” He remarked, and his companions groaned, and covered their eyes while shaking their heads. “You are a bit big for my liking, but I guess, since you offered, you’ll have to do.”

  The woman merely smiled, giving no outward indication that the behavior bothered her, or that she was going to punish him in any way. That, Eferath thought to himself, would unnerve even the hardiest of warriors. But Corbin was either too proud, or too stupid to be unnerved. Especially not by a woman, by his reasoning.

  “All of you will be partnered with an Elite,” she continued, her eyes never leaving Corbin’s.

  Almost as soon as she finished talking, the Elites broke rank, and began filtering in among the group. Eferath nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a strong hand grab his upper arm.

  “Where are you going?” Asked the woman from before. Her voice gave Eferath chills but whether that was his instincts telling him to run for his life, or to attempt to woo her, he hadn’t the slightest. Besides, he thought, given the temperature of the expression she was giving him, the former was by far the best bet.

  “It would appear not.” Eferath replied dryly as her surprisingly strong grip dug into his bicep. He glanced down at her hand, then back up to her, silently communicating to let him go.

  She didn’t.

  Before Eferath could say anything to her that would accurately reflect on his disapproval of her grip, the other woman - the commander, Eferath noticed as he looked closer at her rank insignia - was speaking to Corbin.

  “And you will be my partner.” She declared evenly, and a small hint of a smile quirked up at the corner of her mouth.

  “Hmm, I like how that sound-“ Corbin started to say, but the woman exploded into motion, drawing her sword and spinning in a dizzying circle to bring her blade around at neck level. Corbin yelped, throwing himself backward to avoid getting his head taken off. By throwing himself backward so quickly, he sacrificed the advantage, his defensive posture, and most importantly his balance. The proud prince tripped over his own feet as he threw himself backward, and landed hard on his rump, skidding to a stop as laughter erupted all around them.

  The woman smiled at him. “Was that too fast for you, prince of Escoran?” Her derisive tone, coupled with her amused smile had Corbin fuming. The embarrassed noble scrambled up to his feet.

  “By all means, take your time, I am in no hurry to humiliate you again.” She said softly, almost sweetly as she flashed that pretty smile of hers.

  “My father will hear of this!” Corbin roared, his face reddening. “You impudent wench! How dare you speak to your future King as your lesser?” Corbin finished his verbal barb by charging forward while drawing his sword from its sheath. His typical straight forward aggression got him nowhere, of course, but when the woman brought her blade around to counter, he was already moving and she was surprised to hit nothing but air. Corbin launched into a backhand swing aimed for her back, but the nimble woman deftly spun around and picked it off with a ringing parry. The strength of the parry left Corbin off balance again, and she fully exploited the error by kicking him in the back of his leg. The attack had the prince sprawling face down on the ground in seconds.

  “You shall not be chosen, for more reasons than your pathetic excuse for skills.” She told him coldly, then added a chuckle as she slid her sword back into its sheath. Before she walked away, she added a parting shot that set Corbin to trembling with fury. “Do not bother running to the King. I can assure yo
u, after he reads my report, you might consider running from him.”

  “Why… you!” Corbin scrambled to his feet.

  “Look out!” Eferath shouted, but his warning was unnecessary. The commanding officer of the elites proved why she had been given such a lofty promotion. She spun around and pulled free her blade in the same motion. She used the momentum of the move to rap her sword hard against Corbin’s lunging attack. With a loud, ringing clash the blades met, and Corbin’s went flying away. Silence gripped the training grounds then as Corbin’s trembling arms raised in response to the woman’s sword point digging into his neck.

  “It is out of respect for your father the king, and that reason alone, why I won’t simply kill you where you stand.” A trickle of blood ran down Corbin’s neck as he shook in fear, then she took her sword from his neck and sheathed it with a jerk before storming away.

  Eferath turned to see his partner looking at him, her inquisitive green eyes sparkling with more intensity than he had ever seen before. She smiled, and Eferath thought that his knees would give out from under him.

  “My name is Syline,” she said in her cool, melodic voice.

  “My name is Eferath, son of Eralon.” He greeted, and he was surprised that he didn’t stutter.

  “Eralon?” She asked incredulously as her gaze moved up and down his body as if appraising his worth. “You are the son of the most renowned general in the Elite Crystal Guard?” She said in a less than complimentary tone.

  “You know Captain,” Eferath said heatedly. “You of all people should know that it is not the appearance that makes the person, but the actions.” That seemed to take some of the starch out of her, Eferath noticed as the area at the corner of her eyes softened.

 

‹ Prev