“The mixed-blood woman seems a bit… overly rude,” Mikal said delicately, “in her approach. Garnet is the commander. Shouldn’t she ask him respectfully?”
Birch chuckled.
“My immortal friend, I don’t think I could explain it to you if I tried,” Birch said. Mikal’s friendship with Kaelus had largely transferred itself to Birch, who learned more about the demon within him with every passing day and felt completely at-ease with his immortal companion. Mikal had come a long way in his dealings with mortals as well, and had loosened up considerably since he’d first revealed himself to them.
“Just watch and tell me if anything occurs to you.”
Mikal looked at Birch out of the corner of his eye, then nodded.
During their exchange, Garnet had apparently acquiesced to Kala’s demand, and the two of them were readying themselves for a duel with their wooden bowkurs. Somewhere someone had found her a set of wooden blades to match her preferred weapons. Almost as an afterthought, Garnet dismissed the denarae around him and instructed them to return to camp and take the rest of the night off.
“She thinks he’s dismissing them so that he can save face if she defeats him,” Mikal commented. “Her thoughts are in turmoil, but I can tell that, at least.”
“I can guarantee it’s exactly the opposite,” Michael Semnriak said, walking up to the pair. Brican was with him. “Birch, you’ve seen some of Garnet in action.”
Brican nodded. “I’d wager every silver penny I own he told us all to leave so she won’t be embarrassed in front of a third of his men. Of course, I haven’t bothered to tell her that. No sense in distracting her.”
“I’ve seen the young woman practice,” Mikal said, “but for all the time we’ve spent watching this Shadow Company, I have never seen Garnet fight. Is he really so skilled?”
“Just watch, Mikal,” Michael said with a confident smile. As the last of the denarae disappeared toward the camp, Garnet and Kala finished their preparations and faced each other across a flat, grassy clearing. Birch, Mikal, Brican, and Michael were the only ones left to observe the duel.
Kala and Garnet approached each other carefully. Kala glared at Garnet with fierce concentration, but the mountainous Red paladin gazed back with an absolutely unreadable expression. Kala made the first attack, which Garnet easily parried and returned with two rapid strikes of his own. The warrior woman was clearly taken aback by the speed of his attacks, which were much faster than anyone could expect from the massive weapon Garnet wielded.
If any words were spoken, they were too quiet for the four observers to overhear. They watched in respectful silence as the match ensued, but from the outset, it was clear who was the better swordsman.
“How can any man.. He’s hardly even trying.” Mikal suddenly murmured, and his voice was an almost perfect imitation of Kala’s. The others stared at him in amazement.
“Damn,” Mikal continued in Kala’s voice. “What… Ah! High. Ow! Low. There! Damn!”
Mikal kept up a running commentary of Kala’s thoughts, which were more often than not single words or fractions of thoughts as her mind tried to keep up with the pace of the duel. He seemed fascinated by the way her mind was working amidst combat, and his eyes were raptly fixed on the duel. It was a strange experience for all of them, listening as Kala’s voice – emitted from Mikal – matched the choreography of the fight as they were watching. As the minutes dragged by, Mikal’s mimicry grew more and more irritated and frustrated, until finally they heard a cry of frustration from both Mikal and Kala as Garnet sent her wooden katana flying through the air for the third time.
“Your attack is not firm enough,” Garnet said without condescension during the ensuing lull as Kala retrieved her sword, “like you’re worried you’ll hurt me. Strike confidently. Cut me, don’t try to cut me. Don’t worry about if I’m going to attack while you’re attacking. Watch me and know what I’m doing even as I do it.”
Kala glared at him, but nodded, and the fight commenced.
Again, Garnet disarmed Kala, but instead of stopping or retreating, she moved forward with her shorter practice blade. Garnet’s face twitched in surprise, but instead of retreating himself, he too stepped forward. The shift then threw Kala off-guard, and for an instant she hesitated in uncertainty. In that moment, she was finished.
As Kala moved to strike with her imitation wakizashi, Garnet chopped down with his left hand and struck her wrist. The wooden blade fell from numb fingers even as Garnet moved his sword in and placed the part of the blade closest to the hilt beneath Kala’s ribs along her left flank. In a lethal duel, Garnet had only to draw the sword along her body and he would cut deeply into her abdomen and severely wound or cripple her.
Garnet’s left hand ended up on Kala’s right arm, and the two of them stood with their chests almost touching. They stood silently like that for a long moment, then Garnet awkwardly released her and took a step back.
“You jumped to exploit a weakness,” Garnet said flatly, “which shows you’re fighting too much of a defensive battle. I left it open deliberately, knowing you would go for it, which lets me know what you’re going to do before you do and to prepare for it. You’re allowing me to dictate your actions. Don’t exploit weaknesses, create them and use them. You can’t trust luck to make them for you. Understand?”
Kala’s cheeks were crimson as she nodded, subdued.
“Now she believes how good he is,” Mikal said unnecessarily, then added, “and so do I.”
As Kala retrieved her practice weapon, Brican and Michael slowly eased away from Birch and Kaelus. Not toward the encampment, but instead toward a pile of large boulders off to one side from the clearing. When they were within a few feet, Brican nodded to Michael, who broke away and approached the rocks from an oblique angle.
Without warning, the two men sprinted forward and pounced into the rocks and emerged a second later with two other bodies, which appeared to be a young man and woman. Brican subdued the woman almost immediately, but Michael’s opponent was much broader than him and the two men wrestled furiously on the ground. Michael pinned him after only a few intense seconds, but he growled continuously at his more muscular opponent to stop resisting or he’d hurt himself.
Garnet, Birch, and Mikal raced over to help. Birch reached the struggling pair first and used his demon-enhanced strength to peel the other man from under Michael. The man in his grasp squirmed and fought to break free, and as Garnet tried to lend a hand he caught a stray fist to the left side of his jaw. Birch caught the flailing limb and pinned both arms to the man’s side. The young man was about the same size and mass as Birch, but with proper leverage the Gray paladin held him as though he were restraining a weakly struggling child. Whatever disadvantages there were, the demonic presence inside Birch had a few distinct uses he had come to appreciate.
Finally the thickly muscled man in Birch’s grasp realized the futility of struggling, and he sagged limply. Wary of a ruse, Birch didn’t loosen or shift his grip at all. After the wrestling match in the dirt, the captive’s face was obscured behind a mask of sweaty mud and clumps of grass stuck to his cheeks.
“Let him go!” the young woman cried, drawing their attention to her.
Garnet stared at her in amazement and not a little anger.
“Anolla?” he said in a dangerous tone of voice. He turned and looked at the young man in Birch’s grasp. “Brad?”
“Uh, hey, big brother,” Bradley jo’Garet said in a sheepish sort of voice.
Garnet rubbed the side of his chin for a moment, then he slugged his brother in the jaw, not quite as hard as he himself had been struck.
“Now,” Garnet said, “what in the name of all that’s holy are the two of you doing here?”
Chapter 16
Don’t be so open-minded that your brains fall out.
- Trames,
“O Musings” (976 AM)
- 1 -
Garet glared furiously at his middle son, who hung his hea
d in shame and refused to meet his father’s eyes. Anolla stood beside her twin brother, equally downcast before their father’s anger. Garnet stood slightly behind his father, arms crossed as he looked down in disapproval. Flasch had healed both Garnet and Brad’s discolored jaws, saving the brothers the need to explain the bruises to their father.
“You have exactly one chance to avoid the beating of your lives,” Garet said ominously. “I want straight answers, and I don’t want to hear any excuses. Satisfy me, and you’ll only have to deal with your mother.”
Brad cringed slightly.
“Now, why did you follow us?” Garet asked. “What did you think you were doing?” Neither one answered. “Well?”
“We just wanted to come along, father,” Brad said meekly. “We… we wanted to be a part of things for once.”
Garet shifted his glare to his daughter, who nodded.
“We didn’t want to be left behind again,” Anolla said, looking pleadingly at her father. “All our lives, we’ve watched you ride off on some adventure or another, and always we’ve had to stay behind and wait. Then Garnet grew up,” she said, waving at him as her voice picked up intensity, “and we had to watch him leave as well. We always get left behind. But we just wanted to come with you, to prove this time that we can do it. We can join you in your adventures.”
“It’s not an adventure,” Garet roared, and the energy and excitement building in Anolla abruptly vanished. “We’re going to war, you foolish children. Children, yes, for that’s what you are. Running off with some grand, romantic notion of being heroes. We’re going off to fight for the fate of mankind, and you want to tag along for the fun of it?” Garet shouted incredulously. “I never thought I’d raised such stupid kids.”
Brad sniffed back tears that threatened to leak from his eyes. Anolla was only slightly more restrained, and her lower lip trembled as Garet stared at them radiating intense disappointment.
“W..We just wanted to be like you,” Brad said with tears in his voice.
Garet’s glare didn’t lessen in the face of his children’s weeping, if anything it deepened even more.
“Then show some backbone and responsibility for your actions,” Garet said in a hard voice. “You two are turning around right now and going back home. Your mother can deal with you until I’ve finished my business.”
Behind him, Garnet stirred.
“With all due respect, dad,” Garnet said in a polite, but firm voice, “I would prefer they stay with the company until we cross the Binding, then they can accompany our messengers on their way back to Nocka. If nothing else, it will ensure they do go home.”
Garet turned to regard his eldest son and considered his words. Finally, he nodded.
“Very well,” Garet said, then turned back to the twins, “but I expect the both of you to stay out from underfoot. This is a camp of war, not a playground. If I hear of either of you so much as sleeping in a place that gets in someone’s way, I’ll spank your bare asses like unruly children while the entire camp looks on. Are we clear on this?” Garet asked.
They mumbled a reply.
“Are we clear?” Garet thundered.
“Yes, sir,” Brad said loudly.
“Yes, father,” Anolla said.
“Now go see the quartermaster with the paladins, and he’ll make sure you have proper gear in the meantime,” Garet said.
“Oh, but we brought…” Brad started.
“Now!” Garet barked in a voice that brooked no argument or hesitation. The twins leapt to obey his command and hurried toward the paladin encampment. As soon as they were out of sight and earshot, Garet began to chuckle softly.
“Dad?” Garnet asked, confused.
“They’re my kids, alright,” Garet said, still laughing. “Damned if it doesn’t seem to run in the family.” He saw the look on Garnet’s face. “You probably don’t remember this, Garnet, but when you were about nine years old, you stowed away in one of the carts we took with us on a demon-hunting jintaal. I found you that first day and had to ride all the way home to leave you with your mother.”
Garnet stared evenly, then finally gave his father a sheepish smile.
“Did I really?”
“Oh yes,” Garet replied. “Your mother gave us both the rough side of her tongue, which is to say she put you in tears for scaring her and nearly made me promise to chain you down to keep you from doing it again. I guess it’s only natural. I snuck away no fewer than five times trying to follow my father when he was a mercenary in Merishank. The last time I was fifteen, and he let me stick around instead of dragging me back home. It was the first time I’d ever seen real combat, and I nearly died twice. Scared me so bad I didn’t leave home again until I decided to enroll in the Prism.”
Garet pointed one finger at his son.
“You just be careful when you start making little warriors of your own,” he said. “I’ve been expecting these two to try something like this for years, and I was almost concerned that they hadn’t. Thought maybe I’d bred a pair of cowards. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Bronk was with them, but I’m glad he stayed home with your mother.”
“So you’re not mad at them?”
“Oh, I’m furious,” Garet said, grinning, “but I’m also damn proud. I was trying to figure out how to keep the two of them around without sacrificing my show of anger, so thanks for that particular solution, son.”
“You’re not thinking of letting them come with us, are you, dad?”
Garet shook his head.
“If it was a run-of-the-mill jintaal, I might,” he said, “but this is too important, too damn big to be worried about them hanging around. Your brother’s well-trained, but that’s all he is – trained, and Anolla’s no better off. By the time you left home, you’d at least seen fighting against bullies and that group of thieves that came ‘round a few years ago that you dealt with. He’s never seen anything resembling real combat, and we need seasoned warriors to see us through this war. No, I’ll let them hang around the camp for the next couple days until we reach the Binding, just to let them get a taste of the adventure,” he said with a snort. “That’ll whet their appetite for when we return, and they’ll be ready for whatever happens after the war.”
“You’re assuming we’re going to win,” Garnet pointed out.
“Of course I am. No sense in going into battle with anything less than complete confidence,” Garet said. “And if I’m wrong, I won’t be around to find out anyway, so what have I got to lose?”
Father and son shared a subdued chuckle. Just then, Trames wandered by peering intently into a small honey pot.
“What’s he got in that thing, anyway?” Garet asked, perplexed. “I’ve seen him talking to it all damn day.”
“Just air, as far as I can tell,” Garnet answered with a shrug. “Kala said it wouldn’t be the first time Trames did something like this, and just to let him go with it.” They watched Trames until he wandered into the denarae camp. They shared a quick laugh at the old man’s eccentricity, then they put on matching masks of sternness and went in search of the twins.
- 2 -
Later that day, the small, hodgepodge army came to an impressively large gorge passable only at a massive stone bridge that spanned the narrowest portion of the gap. The bridge was made from enormous blocks of stone fitted carefully together, with no sign of wood or steel in the construction. Carved into two thick pillars of stone on either side of the bridge were two warriors, an elf and a dwarf. The life-sized depictions wielded halven and maul in turn, and their stern expressions forced all who would cross to pass between their eternal vigil. The two warriors were so lifelike, Flasch half expected the stone figured to leap forward and challenge the first men to reach them. A broad arch spanned the pillars to which the two warriors were attached, carved to resemble two tree branches intertwining.
The bridge itself was unadorned and plain, but to Flasch, it was like calling a deer or a faerer “plain”. Every surface was practi
cally seamless and so elegantly shaped that not a stone looked as though it didn’t belong there, as though the bridge as a whole would feel less complete without it. The simplistic elegance of the bridge gave it a grace and beauty that made them all gaze in wonder.
“Can you imagine how much it must have cost to build something like that?” Hoil asked of no one in particular. “I know a thing or two about construction, and that thing is sheer genius. The cost alone of the architect who must have designed it…”
“Well,” Flasch said with casual cynicism, “I guess that goes to show you just what you can accomplish with massive amounts of money. Anything is possible for a price, even breathtaking beauty.”
“Does the bridge have a name?” Hoil asked. “Something like this surely would be christened and remembered somewhere.”
“It is the Li’Ekkien Bridge,” a soft voice said from behind them. They all turned to stare at Siran, who watched them with the expressionless gaze they had all come to expect from the soft-spoken but lethal elven commander.
“Li’Ekkien, huh?” Hoil asked. “Doesn’t that have something to do with your stone workers?”
“The Stoneweavers, yes,” Siran said. “The bridge was designed by a dwarven architect and driven by his engineers, but mostly built by our Weavers. It was the last cooperative effort between our two peoples for over three hundred years and one of the greatest bridges ever built in Lokka.”
“Still must’ve cost a bundle,” Flasch muttered.
He turned as he heard Marc chuckling behind him.
“Something funny, booker?” he asked. For some reason, Flasch was in a very cross mood, and he didn’t feel like being teased.
Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) Page 21
