The sergeant paced back the other direction in front of the squad. “So whom do I pick? Well ...” He took a deep breath, “According to tradition, if I can not pick the best one of you, then leadership of the squad is left up to a trial of arms between the last two candidates. So, this afternoon, Flare and Phillip will cross swords, and the winner will be the leader. Do you have any questions?”
“No Sir!” Flare and Phillip answered in unison.
“Good, the fight will take place on the drilling field. The squad is dismissed until then. Flare, Phillip, take time to prepare yourselves.”
The squad broke up and drifted in different directions, leaving Enton, Atock, and Flare.
Flare spoke first, “I’m sorry Atock. You will definitely make an excellent leader one day. I guess it will just take a little longer.”
Atock shrugged his shoulders, “The sergeant’s right. This army is different than my people, but I will lead, even here.” He paused momentarily, looking at the departing Phillip. “Can you beat him?”
Flare sighed, considering, “I don’t know. I’m a good swordsman, but he seems truly gifted. I guess I'll have to fight a defensive battle, and try to exploit his mistakes.”
Enton, who had been quietly listening, slapped Flare on the shoulder. “That hardly sounds like the man that almost bested me in unarmed combat. You’re both good, but he is over-confident. His over-confidence is his weakness.”
“I agree. It’s an equal fight. Flare, you can take him. Besides, “Atock said, with a smile on his face,” who wants to follow that pompous ass?”
Flare tried not to think about the fight, though it was nearly impossible not to. By the time the fight was ready to begin, he resigned himself to doing his best. This was another step in gaining the respect and acceptance that he so dearly desired. It would not bode well to fail.
The drilling field was roughly three hundred yards wide by four hundred yards deep. The field was mainly covered with grass, but there also were some patches of sand and dirt. The field was partially torn up, due to the large amount of drilling and horse back riding.
Flare arrived several minutes early, but found the rest of the squad already there. They were standing around the edges of a huge chalk circle. There was no conversation as he approached the circle, but he saw encouraging smiles and nods.
Flare stopped, blinking in surprise. Phillip was standing on the opposite side of the circle, talking to Duke Angaria. What was Duke Angaria doing here? Obviously the duke would want Philip to lead the squad, but his presence seemed out of place.
‘Damn, now I definitely want to win, just to show that bastard up.’ Flare thought. Success would be so much better, and failure would be so much more bitter.
Sergeant Danlion motioned for both fighters to approach him. He was standing in the middle of the twenty-five foot circle, and he was holding a sword in each hand.
Flare stepped over the white line, joining Phillip and the Sergeant.
“This fight will determine who leads this squad. The only weapon you will be allowed to use is one of these two swords that I have brought. The fight will go until one fighter submits or until one fighter cannot continue. If you step outside of the circle, then you forfeit. If you wish to submit, you must yell your submission. Men have died in these fights, so submit when you are beaten. Flaranthlas, do you have any questions?”
Flare, who had gotten more nervous listening to the rules, was pleased that his voice was firm, “No, Sergeant.”
“Phillip, do you have any questions?”
“No, sir!” was Phillip’s quick response.
“Okay, I want both of you to back up to opposite sides of the circle.” When both fighters had their heels on the line, the sergeant threw a sword at each fighter’s feet. “Pick them up and BEGIN!”
Flare picked his sword up, and cautiously walked toward the center of the circle. He was relieved to see that the swords did not have a sharp edge; in fact the edges were flattened. It would still hurt, but it shouldn't cut. Phillip had picked his sword up also, and was testing the weight of it.
“You know I’m going to beat you, so I suggest you submit quickly. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Now would we?” Phillip said, holding his sword with the point down.
Flare didn’t answer, but just observed the other man. He knew his best chance was to let Phillip press the attack, and for him to stand back and attempt to take advantage of a mistake. But Phillip was good, and Flare was not optimistic.
In the blink of an eye, the point of Phillip’s sword shot up and he lunged. Flare instinctively jerked his sword upward and toward the right, deflecting Phillip’s sword outside the frame of his body. The clang of the two swords hadn’t even started to fade, when Phillip threw an elbow, hitting Flare in the face. The force of the blow sent him sprawling backwards and onto his back. He used the momentum to roll over backwards and onto his feet, and immediately had to duck to avoid a vicious swing of Phillip’s sword. Phillip was attempting to finish the fight quickly, and he wasn’t giving Flare a chance to find any mistakes.
Flare’s duck forced him to one knee, and with the hard swing forcing Phillip off balance, he seized the opportunity, and drove his sword upward with both hands.
Most men would have been skewered, but Phillip’s quickness saved him. Without changing his grip, he jammed his sword downward, deflecting Flare's sword.
The two fighters separated, and backed away from each other, collecting their breaths. Flare was pleased, having survived the first barrage that Phillip had thrown his way.
The pause in the fight allowed him to realize that most of the rest of the squad were cheering and shouting instructions. He had been so engrossed, that he hadn’t even noticed.
“Not bad. I thought the fight would be over by now.” Phillip scoffed.
“Me too, I'm surprised you’re still standing.” Flare bantered right back.
Phillip just grunted in reply, and raised his sword.
Both fighters had two handed grips on their sword, as they inched towards each other. Minor clinks and clanks reverberated from their swords as they jockeyed for position.
Flare, trying to catch Phillip off guard, lunged forward, attempting to punch Phillip with the dull blade. But Phillip was ready, and side stepped the lunge, and brought his sword down on top of Flare’s sword. The jarring impact made Flare's arm go numb, and he almost dropped his sword.
Flare, sensing his predicament, dropped to the ground and rolled away from Phillip. He quickly regained his feet, and tried to ignore the ache in his right arm. The grin on Phillip’s face was that much more infuriating.
Phillip stepped close, and answered Flare’s lunge with an overhead swing of his own.
Flare braced himself, but his arm still almost collapsed under the impact.
Phillip brought his sword in a sidewise swing from his left to the right, which Flare deflected with some pain. Phillip then jabbed, but Flare brought his sword in from the side, and deflected the blow, falling to his knees as he did. Flare’s sword was left in a vulnerable position, and Phillip disarmed him with a flick of his wrist.
Flare steadied himself by putting his right hand down on the sand.
“Submit, or die.” Phillip said, panting for breath. He was standing to Flare's left, with his sword dangling toward the ground.
Flare let his shoulders slump as if he had given up, even as his hand cupped the sand. Then with a sudden motion, he jerked his body around and threw the sand directly into Phillip’s face.
Phillip staggered backwards, and tried to wipe the sand from his eyes. Momentarily blinded, Philip was exceedingly surprised when he received a sharp kick to the groin. He dropped his sword, and fell to the ground in the fetal position.
Flare picked up Phillip’s sword, and rested the tip at Phillip’s throat.
“Submit.” Flare rasped out.
Phillip was lying on the ground, holding his sore manhood, as tears rolled down his face.
&
nbsp; Flare pushed the tip of the sword harder against Phillip’s throat, until, “WAIT! I submit.” Phillip managed to choke out between clenched teeth.
Sergeant Danlion immediately jumped between the two, elbowing Flare away.
The Sergeant helped Phillip to his feet, and turned toward Flare. “Congratulations Flare. You have won the right to be the leader of this squad. Being the leader carries .....”
“Wait!” a voice called out. Duke Angaria stepped slowly into the dueling circle. “He cheated. It was not a fair fight. Honor dictates that Phillip be declared the victor.”
Sergeant Danlion turned to face Duke Angaria, “I saw nothing unfair about the fight. What do you mean it was unfair?”
“He threw sand in Phillip’s face, after Phillip had beaten him.”
“Flare, what is the objective of a fight?” Sergeant Danlion asked.
Flare grinned at Duke Angaria. “To win, Sir!”
“That is correct. If this had been a real battle, Flare would be alive and Phillip would be dead.” Sergeant Danlion said. “That is all that matters. Flare is victorious; therefore he will lead the squad.”
Duke Angaria’s face gradually turned red. “This is not over with. You will regret this!” He turned and stomped away from the field.
The other members of the squad gathered around Flare, and congratulating him and slapping him on the back.
Sergeant Danlion observed the celebration for several moments. “Are you finished?” He asked; his hands on his hips. The squad members quieted and came to attention, even Phillip. The sergeant slowly paced back and forth in front. “Now that we have settled the issue of leadership, there is something far more important for you to begin.” He smiled, “I am granting the squad a two day liberty, beginning right now......”
Barely an hour after the fight, Phillip found Flare preparing to leave. “Flare. I wanted to congratulate you,” Phillip said. He actually smiled, “I still think that I would make a better leader, but I guess that will have to wait.” He paused, “I'm not used to being second best at anything, and I hate losing to you, but I wanted to let you know I will do my best to follow your orders.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you talking to me about this.”
Phillip nodded, “I will do my best.”
“That’s all I expect.” Flare said, smiling.
The members of Flare’s squad split into their separate groups, and went their own way. Flare went with Atock and Enton, based solely on Enton’s claim of “Knowing a place”.
They traveled through the streets of Telur, to a back alley. A large wooden building loomed in front of them, and Flare was getting apprehensive. The grey paint was peeling off the outside, and a large portion of the lower boards were starting to rot. They walked up the crumbling steps to the doorway.
The difference between the outside and the inside was the difference between night and day. The interior of the building had beautiful wooden floors, which were covered with elaborately decorated rugs. The walls were made of a hardwood, stained a dark brown. The door had opened into a small foyer and a circular stairwell led upwards to the second floor. Directly in front of the doorway, was a short hallway which led to a large room. Soft music and laughter was coming from the room ahead.
Flare finally found the nerve to speak up, and asked, “Enton, what exactly is this place, and how do you know of it?”
Enton laughed. “Flare, it’s a brothel, and who cares how I found out about it. All that matters is that we are about to be surrounded by gorgeous willing women.” He paused for a moment, and a devilish grin appeared on his face. “You have done this before, haven’t you?”
“No.” Flare answered, Enton and Atock both smiled, “but I know what goes where and why.”
The laughter of the men brought an older lady from the larger room. She was dressed in a slinky white loose fitting dress, and she had sort white hair. Her skin was wrinkled, and her eyes suggested that she had seen more than her share of bar fights. “Welcome gentlemen, we're always happy to serve the fighting men of Telur. The young ladies are in the main room, straight ahead here. And it will only cost you four silver pieces for an hour. Or one gold piece will get you the whole night.” She stepped back against the wall, motioning them on through into the main room.
Flare mumbled “thanks”, as he passed the older lady. His stomach was doing flips.
The room was dimly lit, and an intoxicating smoke filled the air. Red cloth covered benches and chairs were scattered around the room. There were several men, and a large number of scantily clad women. The music was coming from the corner, where several men were playing instruments. A voluptuous blond girl was dancing completely nude in front of the musicians. A bar lined the wall to Flare’s left, and men and women sat on stools in front of it.
Flare was extremely aroused by the dance the nude girl was performing, but it was rather embarrassing.
“Flare. Here's a potion that I got at the apothecary. It should protect you.” Enton said.
“Protect me from what?” Flare asked.
Enton smiled, “Trust me. Take it. Tomorrow, you and I need to talk about some things.”
Flare sniffed the potion briefly and then drank it despite the horrible taste.
Enton and Atock wandered away, and Flare found himself all alone.
He walked over toward the bar, and found himself sitting next to a young lady. She had short sandy-blond hair, and a long lean body. Her skin was smooth, and she had a small perfectly shaped mouth. Her breasts were not as large as most of the women in the room, but they were by no means small. She was a very attractive woman.
Flare looked her in the eye, and was embarrassed to see that she had been observing him observing her. He could feel the heat rising in his face, and judging by her smile, she could see it too.
“Do you like what you see?” She asked with a wicked grin.
“Yes. You’re very beautiful.” He was so nervous; he couldn’t hold eye contact with her. “What’s your name?”
“Lalonna. What’s yours?”
“Flaranthlas, but you can call me Flare.”
“Well, Flare. Want to go upstairs?” She asked, placing her hand on his.
“Upstairs?”
She smiled, devilishly. “Yes. There's where I normally conduct business.”
That did not sound too good to Flare. The word business just seemed wrong. “Thanks, but no. I'll just wait on my friends.”
Lalonna was surprised, “Are you sure?”
Flare swallowed hard, “Yes. Thank you.” He turned away, his heart pounding in his ears.
Flare left the brothel and waited for Atock and Enton outside the front door. He had meant to stay inside, but after the third woman had propositioned him, he felt it was time to go.
Less than ten minutes later, Atock emerged from the front door. He saw Flare and smiled, “You weren't in there for very long. You know, where I come from, the men have been known to last an hour and a half making love.” Atock said with a lopsided impish grin.
Flare returned the grin, no reason to mention that he hadn't gone upstairs. “Atock, if the men of Entucca last so long, then why did you come out after only ten minutes?”
Atock smiled, “It’s been a long time.”
Chapter 8
It was a somewhat hung over and sick group of soldiers that assembled in front of their barrack after their leave was complete. Flare was swaying back and forth, attempting to maintain formation. Sergeant Danlion stood before the squad, smiling. “I see you enjoyed your liberty.”
The sergeant’s tone was irritating; his amusement of their situation was obvious. Flare fought back the urge to vomit and closed his eyes.
“I wish to explain the next six months of your training.” Sergeant Danlion said. “Now that the squad training is complete, your squad will practice with the other squads in regiment and division drill. You will spend two days a week practicing military combat maneuvers.”
Sergeant Danlion pace
d back and forth in front, “The drill is only a small part of your training. You will accompany the regular army units as they perform their assigned duties. You will assist them in their guard duties, and join them on their patrol routes. But make no mistake, they will be in charge. You will follow their orders, and without question.” He paused, “Any questions?” Several soldiers swayed back and forth, and most were pale. Sergeant Danlion shook his head in disgust. “Kara, see what you can do for them, they have a long day ahead, and I don't want to be embarrassed.”
“Yes Sergeant.” Kara answered.
Flare winced, judging by the sound of her voice, she wasn't sick at all. 'I guess she doesn't drink,' he thought.
Flare was waiting patiently for Kara to reach him with a god awful smelling concoction, when Sergeant Danlion addressed the squad again. “You will report to Sergeant Latts immediately. He will make sure that you are familiar with the layout of the castle, because you begin assisting the guards tonight.” The sergeant moved closer to Flare. “I want you take the squad to Sergeant Latts.” He stopped talking and looked down the line of soldiers. Kara was slowly working her way down the line, giving those that were sick the concoction to drink. Whatever it was, it seemed to be helping, but the soldiers still looked queasy. “On second thought, take the squad through the kitchens. Make sure they each eat something.”
“Yes sir!” Flare said, desperately trying not to think about eating.
They spent the rest of the day in the castle, becoming familiar with its layout and their required duties. Strict rules of behavior were explained to them and Sergeant Latts, who was a pleasant old soldier, explained that no breaches of etiquette would be allowed.
The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series Page 12
