Of Blood and Blade (Tainted Blood Book 2)

by Jeff Gunzel

  “How did you—” Liam mumbled, mostly speaking to himself. He clenched the coin, then glanced at Xavier. “All right then, you have a deal. I’ll happily take your gold, boy.” The men grew silent, eager to watch the show.

  Thatra tapped her stick against each heel then raised it high above her head.

  Viola tapped her own feet, mimicking her movements exactly. She wasn’t sure if touching each foot was actually necessary, but she did it anyway before raising her stick.

  “Higher,” Thatra barked. “And grip it tighter than that!”

  Viola raised it up all the way above her head.

  With the speed of a viper, Thatra took two steps and lashed out. With a crack, she sent Viola’s stick tumbling a good ten yards away. “I told you to grip it harder,” Thatra scolded. “The weapon in your hand can be the difference between life and death. If your skill is inferior to your enemy’s, you could still get lucky and score a killing blow. If your enemy’s conditioning is superior, you still might be able to outlast him under the right circumstances. No two people are exactly the same. ‘Cover your own weaknesses while trying to exploit your enemy’s.’ That has been the code of battle since the beginning of time. But if they can knock the weapon from your hand on the very first strike, then your defeat is imminent. If you learn nothing else this day, at least remember this: Don’t...lose...your...weapon.”

  Embarrassed but still determined, Viola spun away to retrieve her stick, but in doing so she nearly toppled Xavier, who for some reason was standing right next to her. Lightly bouncing off his shoulder, she stumbled back a few steps. Mortified, her face on fire, she could hardly look him in the eye.

  “Here you are,” he said, handing her the stick.

  Still unable to look at him, she accepted it then lowered it near her leg.

  He leaned in close to her ear. “You’re doing fine,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about a thing. We’ve all been here before, but I want you to remember something. The most dangerous opponent in the world is the one who refuses to give up. Speed can be developed, skill can be taught,” he touched her chest with two fingers, “but this is what will separate you from the rest. You either have it or you don’t. But I’ve seen what you’re capable of, so I know you have heart.” He rubbed her shoulder before going back to sit with the others.

  In a rush, Viola released a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding, then turned back to face Thatra. “Again,” Viola shouted, surprised by the strength of her own voice.

  The tarrin nodded, then streaked forward with her weapon raised. Again she tried the same tactic, striking Viola’s stick with tremendous force. With a hollow pop, she nearly sent it flying a second time. But despite the numbing vibrations radiating right down into her fingers, Viola managed to hold on, if only just barely.

  Ignoring the burning sting in her hands, Viola countered with a slow, downward chop. With ease and precision, Thatra easily pushed it aside, then spun back the other direction, her stick driving hard into Viola’s shoulder. She cried out, one hand releasing her stick as she stumbled back. Thatra propped her weapon up on her shoulder and turned away.

  “My objective is to hit you, not your weapon,” Thatra said, her back to Viola. “In turn, your objective should be to hit me. I’m not pointing out the obvious to belittle you; I’m trying to focus your mind. Think of your weapon as an extension of your own body. Your limbs move when you give them purpose. You are doing one of two things at all times, attacking or defending. When you are attacking, seek my flesh regardless of where my weapon is. When you are defending, you must do the opposite. Seek to intercept my weapon at all costs, for if it hits home, your life is forfeit. Now, if I am attacking?”

  “Seek your weapon,” Viola said, rubbing her sore shoulder.

  “If I am defending?”

  “My weapon seeks your flesh.”

  Even with her back still turned, Thatra grinned. “That is correct.” Thatra pivoted back, stick raised high above her head, and charged with no warning.

  Viola braced, raising her weapon quickly as her mind raced. Seek her weapon... Seek her weapon... Eyes zeroing in on Thatra’s streaking weapon as it chopped downward, Viola raised her own to block its path. With a solid crack, she blocked the strike. Seek her flesh... Seek her flesh... With a burst, Viola thrust the enemy weapon aside and came at Thatra with a sideways strike.

  Stunned and completely out of position to block, Thatra thrust her hips back as the strike flashed past her stomach. Thinking she had her off balance, Viola stepped in and slashed back the other direction. Her second strike slammed hard into Thatra’s perfectly positioned block. Stunned at how quickly the warrior had recovered, Viola paused a second with their weapons engaged. It was a second she couldn’t spare.

  The warrior burst into an offensive flurry. With pinpoint precision, her stick cracked all over Viola’s body. Shoulder, shoulder, hip, knee.

  White-hot pain radiated through Viola’s body. Viola tried to block, tried to focus on the whirling weapon, but it all happened so fast. A novice who had never even tasted combat had just witnessed firsthand how pathetic her skill set was when matched up against this veteran warrior. Grimacing in pain, Viola dropped her stick and sank to one knee. Her tingling body felt like it was covered in pins and needles.

  “That’s enough for today,” said Thatra, twirling her stick victoriously over her head. “You actually had a better showing than I thought you—”

  “No,” said Viola, reaching out to retrieve her abandoned weapon. Using it like a crutch, she pushed herself up off the ground. “We’re not finished yet.” Wobbling on unsteady legs, she readied her weapon.

  “I see,” said Thatra, looking at her with a sideways glance. “Very well. I suppose you want another chance to get me back.” She raised her own stick above her head, then taunted Viola with a series of hand gestures.

  Viola rushed forward, her stick slashing sideways in a slow strike towards the side of Thatra’s head. The warrior slapped away the clumsy strike, then countered with lightning speed, driving her stick directly into Viola’s shoulder for the second time.

  Fire shot down her already sore arm, but she refused to give in to the pain. Viola spun in reverse, driving her weapon down low.

  Thatra lifted her leg, allowing the strike to sweep harmlessly underneath her foot. The warrior countered again, her hand speed fluid yet impossibly fast as she cracked Viola’s shoulder yet again.

  Searing pain blasted through Viola’s shoulder for a third time, this one causing numbness all the way down into her fingers.

  “All right, that’s enough of—” Thatra got her stick up just in time. Wielding with only one arm, Viola had been inches away from returning a similar retaliation to Thatra’s face. Although her student was thoroughly outmatched, her resilience was growing tiresome. Thatra decided a lesson was needed. Immediately after blocking, she fired another hard strike at Viola’s shoulder, one that would surely end this nonsense. How many more could she possibly take, in the same spot no less? Her eyes widened at the solid vibration and the resounding crack. Somehow, someway, Viola had blocked the strike. I don’t know if she was instinctually protecting her sore shoulder or consciously recognizing my attack pattern. Either way, she’s learning.

  Viola came in high, chopping downward in a diagonal swing. Annoyed, Thatra slapped it away and unloaded with another offensive flurry. Hip, thigh, knee, jaw—the consecutive number of hard cracks made the men cringe.

  Her body going limp, Viola’s knees buckled and she crumbled to the ground.

  Thatra flashed forward, catching her before she fell. “It’s over!” Thatra shouted in her face, shaking her by the shoulders. “You hear me? We’re done—” A metallic taste flooded her mouth as Viola drove her forehead straight into her jaw. On pure reflex alone, Thatra blasted Viola across the face with a sickeningly hard right-hand blow.

  “You’re out of control!” Thatra shouted, spitting a mouthful of blood as she turned away from her f
allen opponent. She felt terrible this had gone so far, but her student had brought it on herself. But after taking one step, her other foot wouldn’t move. She looked down to see a small, pale hand wrapped around her ankle.

  “The most dangerous opponent in the world is the one who refuses to give up,” Viola mumbled, her soft words smothered as she lay face down in the dirt. “Yield,” she whispered. Thatra forced a step, dragging Viola’s whole body along the ground. “Yield,” Viola repeated, still face down in the dirt.

  Teary eyed, the warrior dropped down to kneel beside her. “Of course,” she said, wrapping both hands around Viola’s hand. She carefully pried her fingers off one at a time. “I yield. Whatever you want. Just end this madness, please.”

  The men watched silently, each gaining a whole new perspective as to what Viola might be capable of. Each of them had been there before, beaten and bloody, but unwilling to give up. The hunter, his apprentice, and Liam had all been pushed to their limits and beyond many a time in both their past training as well as real-life combat. And now before their very eyes, they had watched Viola take a step none of them were certain she was capable of.

  Liam rose to his feet. Before going to dish out a bit of magical healing, he rubbed Xavier on the shoulder without saying a word. When the apprentice shifted, two gold coins fell from his shoulder and bounced off his knee.

  Chapter 6

  The evening meal had a different feel to it than the past few nights. Instead of propping herself against a tree to bury herself in one of her books, Viola actually decided to eat and laugh with the others. It was not as if she wasn’t tempted to run off with a book tucked under her arm, though. A part of her longed to go to a corner and tear back into that wealth of information. But for once she would skip her routine, if only for tonight. For some odd reason, tonight felt like a celebration of sorts. She even felt different somehow.

  For the first time in her life, she had truly tested her own physical limits, pushing past a mental wall to set a new standard for herself. Viola had done something she didn’t think was possible, and actually felt proud of herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt proud. Arrogant or not, she would enjoy this feeling for as long as she could.

  But that wasn’t even the best part. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or not, but the others seemed to be treating her differently. They had always been kind to her, of course, but it was not unlike the kindness one might show to a stray dog that looked hungry. At times, it almost felt like pity. At least, that’s how it always felt to her, like she wasn’t really viewed as an equal.

  It felt different now—at least, in her mind it did. The differences were only minor, but to her they felt huge: Liam smiling warmly, making strong eye contact as he passed her another strip of meat; Thatra giving her a hard thump on the back when she worked her way to the other side of the fire. Viola did her best not to wheeze from the heavy smacks. In fact, she felt as if holding her upright position instead of tumbling into the fire was a small victory in itself. Of course, she would never actually admit that to any of them. For once she felt like an equal.

  That evening she curled up into her bedroll, listening to the chirping crickets as they sang into the night. An owl hooted, momentarily disrupting their song until they began to chirp once more a short time later. Facing away, she could feel Xavier’s lingering gaze. But instead of rolling over to meet his eyes, she just stayed put and kept to herself. This was her time, her moment, and she chose to be alone with her thoughts under the starry sky. Even after receiving the benefits of Liam’s magical healing, her body still ached. Her muscles were sore, and there was a constant ringing in her ear.

  In truth, she’d never felt better in her life.

  * * *

  When morning came, Viola was still a bit stiff, but other than that, no worse for wear. Deciding to eat on the way, she and the others quickly packed up camp and headed out. Thatra made it clear that if they made good time, they would probably reach the nezzerian village before nightfall.

  With the trees more spaced out in these parts, Owen’s lavics was no longer needed to make a path through brute force. No longer needing to ride single file, they moved along in a loose formation while still able to maintain a brisk pace. Thatra and Viola rode side by side, chatting away and giggling among themselves. Xavier took up the rear, deciding it might be best to keep his distance from these two. They were obviously having one of their girl talks, and their constant giggling always seemed to be followed by a quick glance back in his direction.

  Someone needs to keep watch from the rear. That was what he told himself, anyway. Thatra glanced back again with a tight-lipped grin. I wish those two would stop doing that. What are they talking about, anyway?

  With a snap of his reins, Liam moved up to ride side by side with Owen. “You look like ye got something on yer mind,” said the hunter, glancing down from the back of his lumbering beast.

  “I have an uneasy feeling about all this,” Liam admitted, his eyes straight ahead as he rode.

  “I thought we were all in agreement,” Owen replied. “The nezzerians are our best bet. Surely they’ll see the problem for what it is and offer Viola the protection we can’t. If not exactly out of the goodness of their hearts, they’ll probably just agree for the sake of keeping balance in the world. Are ye having second thoughts?”

  “No,” Liam answered after a pause. “Not really. It’s just that I usually think things through before making big choices. We’re going into this blind, you know. I’m just not used to giving up so much control to circumstance instead of carefully planning.”

  “We be out of options a long time ago,” Owen said. “Like it or not, I don’t see a better option.”

  “Perhaps,” Liam admitted, running his fingers along his white mustache as he contemplated. “But that’s exactly what I mean. I understand that this is most likely the best course of action, but for how long?” The hunter squinted, wondering what Liam might be getting at. “Let’s just say the nezzerians agree that Viola’s life is indeed important, that allowing her capture and eventual death at the hand of the ghatins will completely throw off the balance. Assume they agree to protect her for the sake of all they believe in. How long can we really depend on their protection? A year? Ten, perhaps?

  “You were there when the ghatins attacked the tarrin village. You saw firsthand what those demons are capable of. They are bloodthirsty, relentless, and above all, extremely powerful. What happens once they discover Viola’s location? And believe me, my friend, no matter how hard we try to keep it a secret, they will find her sooner or later. Do the nezzerians have the muscle or even the will to fend off siege after siege? And what of us? Do we just leave her in their hands and go our separate ways, simply hoping for the best?”

  “I understand what yer saying,” Owen groaned, leaning back on his great beast. “Look, there is no sense in worrying about any of that right now.”

  “Then when do we worry?” Liam shot back sharply. But his hard eyes softened immediately. “I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized.

  “Bah,” Owen grunted with a dismissive wave. “Let me ask ye a question. In all those years ye served in Redwater’s army, how many young lives do you suspect you took?”

  Liam’s eyes went wide at the blunt and highly personal question. From one soldier to another, this was hardly a thing that was ever discussed. “Far too many,” Liam answered honestly. “I never kept count because I knew it was a number I’d hoped to forget someday.”

  “Aye,” Owen grunted, a gleam of understanding in those odd gray eyes. “But I’ll bet each life you took came with quite a story attached, yes?”

  “Of course,” Liam agreed.

  “Now imagine a young green version of yerself trying to have a talk with the man ye are now. Do ye even remember who ye were at nineteen or twenty years old? Ignorant to the violence of the world, naive to the choices ye were about to make. And more importantly, ignorant to the consequences of those
choices. Tell me, Liam, would ye do it all over again if ye could? Would ye even be capable of walking that dark road a second time, knowing what you know now?”

  Liam’s eyes glazed over as he looked back on his memories. “Knowing what I know now? I don’t believe I could walk this road a second time. To this day my hands are stained with blood. Some of them deserved their fate, others were no more than young boys sent off to fight for a cause not of their own. I still see their faces in my sleep. I can still hear their dying screams, yet I knew it could just as easily have been me lying there with steel in my chest.”

  “But ye survived to tell the tale, did ye not?” Owen asked. “So what would ye tell yer nineteen-year-old self in order to prepare him for what was to come?”

  Liam swallowed, his gaze falling to the ground. “I wouldn’t tell him anything,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Nothing I say could help that young man in facing the many horrors his innocent mind could not yet comprehend. Other than learning to trust his own instincts and training, any warning I gave would probably have a negative effect. Imagine already knowing how many times you’ll have to cheat death, before you’ve ever held a sword. Imagine trying to explain to that young man how many lives he will take with his own hands. There’s no way to mentally prepare for such a thing. Sometimes the future is better left unknown.”

  “Aye,” Owen agreed. “Nor would I give any advice or warning to my younger self. How do ye prepare a young mind to see and experience things no human was ever meant to see?” There came a long moment of silence as the old warriors reflected. “So what happened? When did ye start worrying about a future ye know ye can’t control?” Owen asked after a time.

  Liam seemed to snap out of his thoughts when hearing those words.

  “We’re still walking this road, Liam,” the hunter continued. “We didn’t make it this far by worrying about the road ahead. As ye say, worrying about the future is a fool’s game.

  “We’re going to find the nezzerian village, and they’re either going to help us or they won’t. Once we have our answer, we will act accordingly just as we always have. Approach it any other way and we’ll both likely go mad!” Owen reared his head back and cackled, exposing several spaces of missing teeth.