Like everything the elves did, this place exuded the artistry and animus of the ancient elf warlords, the carved rafters, campaign standards, and coats of arms all arranged to remind those that fought here of the warrior heritage of the elves.
Violet eyes flashing, hands clenching and unclenching, there could be no doubt that Sarai was a warrior, with a steely warrior’s determination. That or a tree-stump’s stubbornness, Bannor couldn’t decide which.
Next to him, dressed in a blue body stocking, auburn hair tied back, Daena pressed a hand to her chest as if she herself had been struck. “Ow, that hurt over here.”
Bannor turned to Janai. The second princess was dressed in black jodhpurs, and a sleeveless black jerkin emblazoned with the T’Evagduran griffin crest. The older sister still had her teeth gritted like the crash hurt her as well.
“Can’t you make her stop?” he asked. “It’s starting to scare me.”
“You jest,” the second princess said with a shake of her head. “Sen won’t hurt her, you know that. Sarai is just determined.”
“Determined? That’s not the word I would use,” burly Corim said sitting on a bench with folded arms. Dressed in a simple brown togs and no shirt, the man’s chiseled physique showed how seriously he took conditioning and practice.
“I thought I was stubborn,” Wren murmured, brushing at her shining blonde hair. Gleaming in all her ascendant majesty, she reclined next to Corim and a new friend she had brought with her. A tenday ago, Wren would have looked tiny compared to Corim, but now she barely had to look up to meet his eyes. As Damay said, there was nothing subtle about the bodies of the ascendants. She was powerful and looked it, filling out the white fighting togs with an impressive shape that would make any male goggle.
Her friend was a tiny woman that Bannor had not seen around until today. Wren had introduced her as Vera, a name as unassuming as the rest of her. She had short satiny-black hair that she wore braided and pinned in place, her olive skin and slightly upturned dark eyes gave her the look of someone from the eastern kingdoms. She wore dark ash-colored robes with the loose sleeves and pants strapped down at the wrists and ankles.
“Stubborn, yes,” Bannor rumbled. “Why can’t she see it’s not possible? Those Kriar are ancients, and Sen is a great elder. You can’t beat that kind of experience with a just a little edge.”
Janai shrugged. “She got this thing stuck in her head that the shaladen will make up the difference. Sure, it’s powerful but…” She sighed and shook her head. “It’s her body. Guess it’s a good thing we got a good physician on staff now.”
Senalloy glanced toward Janai. The woman looked toward Sarai and shook her head. Her eyes were the same color as Sarai’s but lacked the glow. Bannor had always found the tall woman attractive for many reasons.
The Baronian focused back on the first princess and sighed. “Using the shaladen to boost your speed even more is making it worse. It puts holes in your defense I could ride a horse through. That’s not the answer.”
“Damn it, but it’s all I have!” Sarai growled, stomping her foot. The impact made the room shake.
Wren rose from the bench and stepped onto the mat with her arms behind her back. “Can I offer a bit of constructive criticism, Sarai?” she asked in a mild tone.
Sarai frowned at her. “What?”
“As we’re seeing,” Wren said in a patient tone. “Speed benefits the defender, not the attacker. After watching you get beat up these last couple days I brought along my friend Vera. I think her advice might help.”
The princess put hands on hips. “No offense, but who is she?”
Wren smiled. “She cooks for the Felspars.”
“You jest,” Sarai said with bemused expression. “The cook?”
“Don’t take my word for it, spar with her.”
Sarai’s brow furrowed. She glanced to Senalloy.
The Baronian shrugged again. She glanced to Vera for a moment, then back to Sarai. “My sister told me about Vera. Take her serious.”
“All right, what can it hurt?” Rolling her shoulders and unkinking her neck she stepped up until she was close enough to touch Senalloy. She frowned up at the big woman and gave her flat stomach a slap. “Don’t think I’m done with you, damn it. I’ll get a piece of you if it kills me.”
The Baronian lady put her hands on Sarai’s shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “I’m here for you. Just remember, things come in time. I didn’t get this good overnight.”
“I don’t expect to be as good as you. I just expect to be better than a sparring dummy that’s all!”
Nodding, Senalloy rubbed Sarai’s shoulder and stepped back.
Wren gestured to Vera who rose and walked over to join her. Even compared to Sarai, she looked small. The dark-haired girl looked up at Wren, and spoke in a quiet, mousy voice. “What Wren-friend want me do?”
“Just combat train—no hard hits—she’s pregnant.”
Vera nodded.
“No hard hits?” Sarai snorted. “You jest. With her pockets full of rocks, I bet she doesn’t weight five stone.”
Vera walked out onto the middle of the mat and bowed to Sarai.
Looking somewhat unsure Sarai bowed back.
Wren swayed out to stand between them. “Sarai, you know me. I would never waste your time.”
Sarai sobered, and looked down at Vera. “Apologies. That was rude.”
Meek-seeming Vera merely blinked at Sarai. She had a stoic aura to her that said she was no ordinary girl.
“Ready,” Wren said, putting a hand between them.
Sarai stepped back and took a stance, bouncing on her toes.
Vera stepped away, bowed and put both hands behind her back.
Bannor frowned. Uh oh.
Daena put a hand on his shoulder. “Is that little snip of a girl kidding? No hands?”
He swallowed.
Wren slashed down with her arm. “Begin.”
Sarai didn’t bother to worry about taking it easy, she launched forward with that incredible speed that made her almost a blur. She swung, kicked, and swung again in a flurry of motion that happened in an eye blink. Big Senalloy would have been forced to block. Tiny Vera, however, was no-where to be touched. She bent backward under the punch, pivoted around the kick, and bounced in a rearward arch that made her shoulders hit the mat. At the same instant, she kicked out with both feet.
Bannor’s heart beat fast, and his stomach lurched. He knew it was going to hurt even before the impact. The strike hit Sarai’s shoulders with a thud, instantly halting her momentum and knocking her onto her back with a slam that made everyone in the room cringe.
Using her head and a sway of her body, Vera flipped back to her feet.
She never moved her hands.
Janai grabbed the top of her head. “Carellion!”
Bannor hugged himself. Ouch. That must have smarted. “Star,” he called. “Are you okay?”
On the bench, Corim straightened up. “Interesting—grand master level G’Yakki techniques.”
Sarai picked herself up and shook her head. She rubbed her shoulders. She frowned at Bannor. It was a good thing Wysteri made that body tough. He remembered a time when bird-like Sarai would have stayed down after a hit like that.
Sarai didn’t try anymore charges with the curious little woman. She struck with more precision, trying not to overextend herself.
Vera swayed like a snake between Sarai’s attacks, bouncing up and blocking kicks and punches alike with her knees and the bottoms of her feet. It was phenomenal. Watching the two whirl around each other, Sarai showed significantly more speed. Buoyed by the shaladen, her strength was enormous. Neither advantage helped. Vera’s flexibility and the poise with which she defended made the fight look staged. She whirled around Sarai, constantly forcing her to turn, making her struggle simply to keep oriented as she whipped side-to-side and around. Bannor couldn’t call it anything less than a dance. Vera’s every dodge and counter were executed with a jewe
l-cutter’s precision, not even the tiniest bit of wasted energy or motion.
After several long breaths of futile attacks, Sarai stepped back panting. She bent and put hands on knees. “Whoa, ok-k-kay,” she gasped out. She rubbed her face where one of Vera’s kicks had grazed her cheek. It was obvious the little woman had made little effort to attack. As incredible as that demonstration had been, her strikes had been only to keep Sarai honest and inflicted with such control they hadn’t even left a bruise. “Wren, I s-s-see what you mean. Ow.” She bowed to Vera.
Vera returned the gesture of respect. “Arminwen is very strong—very quick. Lady Sen say rightly, more speed not help.”
“I don’t get it. If I hit faster, don’t you two have less time to react?”
Vera searched the ceiling rocked her head side to side. “Swing fast, turn fast, counter fast… not affect much. Biggest time is not attack itself, but making direction. If Vera see—then react, then speed be advantage. Vera know before you move, so—” She shrugged. “No help. Vera show you something better than go fast.” She turned to Wren. “Tumok. Ich can tala.”
Wren bowed and came forward. She took a stance with her fists up and ready.
Vera stepped in front of Wren and held up her palm like a target. “Wejha!” Vera ordered.
Wren lunged forward sending her hand streaking forward like a spear, feet stomping down and body poised. The whole room trembled with the power of it as the tips of Wren’s fingers brushed Vera’s hand, making her flesh ripple and her uniform flutter. Bannor felt his heart skip a beat. Daena and Janai jerked.
Vera looked to Sarai. She put both hands on either side of Wren’s arrow straight hand. “Cut like knife,” she said. Holding Wren’s hand she pushed, then pulled, demonstrating that Wren wasn’t going anywhere, especially in that low crouch. “No able to deflect.” She let go and put her thumb on the tip of Wren’s longest finger. “Energy here.” She held her palm a short distance in front of Wren’s hand. “Impact here.” She gestured to Sarai. “Come.”
Sarai stepped close. Vera took Sarai’s hand and held it up in front of Wren’s outstretched attack, then turned to Wren. “Tumok. Diece can tala.”
Wren stepped back into a ready stance.
“Jujah!” Vera yelled.
The blond ascendant lunged forward in a punch and stomp that stopped well short of Sarai’s hand but shook the room again. The elf lady’s arm was knocked back like she’d been struck.
“Yieouch!” Sarai let out shaking her hand. “Whoa!” She breathed, wiggling her fingers. “She didn’t even touch me!”
Vera shook her head. “She not fast as you but make much power. Balance and leverage extend your reach. Even if she miss you—make you hurt—make you retreat. Too much speed take away balance. No balance, less power, and you open.” She looked to Wren. “Canta.”
Wren brought her fists together, knuckle to knuckle and bowed to Vera, she then retreated a step with her hands behind her back.
Bannor found it interesting that the normally irreverent Wren treated Vera with a respect that he’d only seen her show with her mother or grandmother.
“I didn’t realize you knew stuff like this!” Sarai said to Wren with wide eyes.
Wren shrugged, gleaming blonde hair falling down around her glowing eyes. “I’m still just a student. I’ve only been training two or three summers.”
Sarai looked down at her hand. “Still, I can only imagine what it would feel like if you’d actually hit me.”
“When you get good, it makes holes in things,” Wren confirmed.
“I think I see,” Sarai said with a furrowed brow. “Hitting so strongly seems to make you even more vulnerable though—you’re rooted.”
“Not really,” Wren said, shaking her head. “When you master the technique, you don’t have to plant yourself. The idea is your hit happens ahead of your attack. It’s like you’re ten times as fast without the vulnerability caused by losing your balance.” Wren stepped forward and touched Sarai’s arm. She gestured to Senalloy and then Vera. “Fighting with people as skilled as they are, if you’re off balance for even a fraction of a heartbeat, it’s like a big sign that screams ‘punish me!’.”
“Really?” Sarai said with an incredulous tone. “What about all that bouncing on one foot, and that swaying around? She can’t be balanced like that.”
Wren frowned at looked over a Vera. The olive-skinned girl tilted her head and raised her eyebrows.
“She’s a grand master; something to do with counterbalances and leverage. She can be twisted up like a boat hawser and hit you so hard your great aunt feels it. Believe me, I know…”
“I see.” She looked over to Senalloy. “Does what she says make any sense to you?”
The woman brushed at her silver hair. “The balance thing—absolutely. Focusing the point of attack ahead of the actual strike is a fairly universal martial technique. However, you are not going to be able to fly around like that overnight. You’d have to start from scratch and learn the whole system.”
“I don’t want to learn a whole system. I just want to be able to fight those damn Kriar,” Sarai growled. “That witch Vratague made me look like a green recruit.”
Wren rolled her eyes. “We’re back to that again. The shaladen is powerful, yes. It can make you stronger, faster, able to read the other person’s moves. The elders have the same thing, it’s a part of them and they have centuries of practice as well.”
“There must be a way,” Sarai insisted. “Eclipse took her out like she was nothing.”
“Sarai,” Senalloy said. “We’ve been over this before. He’s like the best warrior the Kriar have. He’d make anyone except maybe an eternal look like a lily-hopper with a broken leg. That Vratague was one of their elites. I don’t think I could have made a dent in her.”
“I don’t care,” Sarai said. “I have to be better than that. I was there to protect Mother and I performed horrendously.”
“Star, you didn’t do that bad,” Bannor tried.
“Bannor, don’t patronize me,” she growled. She turned to Vera. When she spoke, it was in a much more respectful voice. “Lady Vera, could I see some more, say against Senalloy?”
Vera raised an eyebrow. She looked over to Senalloy, who looked on with folded arms.
The Baronian woman shrugged. “I’m willing.”
The little woman looked up at Wren.
Wren grinned at her. “I think you’ll need both hands.”
Vera smiled. She looked back to Sarai and nodded.
Senalloy stepped out to the center and Wren stood between them. Sarai stepped over by Bannor watching the two warriors, glowing violet eyes narrowed in concentration. Senalloy dwarfed tiny Vera, being almost half a pace taller. The little woman didn’t look afraid though.
Squaring off against Senalloy, Vera bobbed and weaved, hands tracing patterns in the air in front of her, feet switching stances constantly.
“Ready,” Wren said. “Go!”
Like the fight between Senalloy and Dulcere, the battle between the little G’Yakki and the huge Baronian woman happened at tremendous speed and with brutal power. Grinning and laughing Senalloy embraced the battle like she was dancing with her favorite partner.
Vera seemed to be in three places at once. Hands and feet thrashing the air, she seemed to fly between Senalloy’s attacks, guarding and countering. Kicks and punches thrown with hurricane force made the air of the chamber hum and shudder. The sound of flesh on flesh sounded like sails snapping in a gale. While she didn’t laugh or show any outward emotion, she seemed to live the battle, reveling in Senalloy’s glee and pushing even harder.
Somewhere in the flurry of attacks, Senalloy found an opening. Without his savant senses, there was no way to tell, how or where, but it sent the much smaller woman flying. He sucked a breath expecting Vera to splash against the wall. Instead she hit the padded surface with her feet and launched back at the Baronian like an arrow. The speed of her counter caught the bigger
woman off guard, and Vera took the legs out from under her.
Silver-haired Senalloy went down with a crash. The fall must have surprised her because she let out an angry snarl. She righted herself in a flash and held up her hands. “Hold. That’s enough,” her voice was harsh and not jovial like before. That strike must have hurt a lot.
Vera who had flipped back to her feet, dropped her guard.
Bannor glanced to Corim. The other man’s mouth was hanging open. He’d probably never seen Senalloy get knocked down.
The Baronian pressed her hands together and bowed. “Little sister.”
Vera bowed. She grinned. “Big sister.”
“That was—awesome,” Daena breathed. “She’s my new hero. Talk about ‘size doesn’t matter’—whoa!”
“That’s their cook???” Janai said, shaking her head in dismay. “She’s like a whole frelling army by herself.”
Senalloy let out a breath and rubbed her arms. She looked angry, but Bannor realized it was herself she was angry at, not Vera. “I can see I need to practice my open hand technique more. I’m getting old and sloppy when I get punished like that.”
“Sen?” Corim said. “What’s wrong?”
“This.” Senalloy held up her forearms and turned them out. The Baronian’s iron-hard skin was split, blackened and bruised from blocking Vera’s attacks. She pulled up the cuff of her breeches, showing similar damage all the way from her instep to her knee. She tilted her head, obviously admiring Vera. “My sister loves you fierce, I wondered if she was getting soft on me. Now, I know better.”
Now, Bannor understood why she had called a halt to the fight. She was starting to get angry and didn’t want to show it.
He glanced at Sarai. She was staring too.
“Sarai, if you want to learn power, this girl knows it,” Senalloy said with genuine respect. “It’s like getting hit by a mattock.” She looked to Wren. “Imagine what she could do with a body like yours.”
Wren rubbed Vera’s shoulder. “Oh, there’s a scary thought.”
“Vera apologizes,” the little woman said to Senalloy. “Went too hard.”
“Oh no!” Senalloy knelt down in front of Vera, and before the little woman could step away snared her in a hug. “That was great!” She leaned back from Vera. “For my own ego, will you do something for me?”
Reality's Plaything 5: The Infinity Annihilator Page 13
