Wizard's Sword (The Battle Wizard Saga, No.2)

by C. M. Lance

  He pushed the lid back and rotated the box to show Dmitri. Inside, a greenish brown lump pulsed with light ranging from dark purple to an orange glow. The Mage gestured with a menacing smirk. "A demon′s egg. Take it. Touch it to the boy′s skin to gather his essence. When it hatches, it will target him with a singleness of purpose."

  Dmitri reached in; eyes shut, and touched it. His eyes opened and he visibly relaxed. "It didn′t hurt me."

  "Of course not. It′s not targeted for Trolls. I offered up the pain and lives of innocents as sacrifice for a specifically focused egg. Before the demon spawn turns on you, take it to him."

  Dmitri′s eyes widened. He put the egg into his pocket and hurried out of the study.

  Sig spent the day interviewing for positions within the department. A postdoctoral student assembled a team to develop a magical strength rating system. Sig′s remembered Rick′s comment that only vain magicians and scholars cared about classifications. Another project involved specifying dimensional attributes. Although the existence of multiple dimensions had become an established scientific theory, few of them were accessible safely, and those by only a few powerful wizards.

  At three, fed up with interviewing, he left to walk to the Amazon′s training center to be ready for his appointment with Bella at four o′clock. He carried his bamboo shinai practice swords and a bag containing fencing armor and his gi.

  This time, he changed in the storeroom reserved for men.

  When he emerged to the clanking, slapping, and low drone of people exercising, there were more women than last time. Besides those working out, several stood around chatting. As he walked into the large open space looking for Bella, the conversations quieted or stopped.

  He noticed her warming up in a far corner of the room near a rear entrance. She looked around at him at the same time. She smiled and waved him over. A bamboo shinai was clutched in her other hand.

  "Well there′s the conquering hero. Ready for your next conquest?" she asked sardonically.

  "I′m not here to conquer anyone. I want to workout. Besides, I think I got lucky last time."

  "Hmmm. We′ll see. What ground rules would you like?"

  "What are the house rules?"

  She arched a single eyebrow. Sig found it very attractive and the muscle control impressed him.

  "What about naked steel Falchions to the death?" She asked.

  Sig laughed and wondered about her testosterone level. He raised one of his swords and pointed at hers. "How about shinai until we′re tired?"

  "I suppose you′ll want to wear protective headgear as well?"

  "I wouldn′t leave home without it."

  "How do you want to count points?"

  "I′m here for practice. I don′t care about points. Whatever you feel comfortable with, but I′d prefer just a friendly joust."

  "Friendly joust. Sounds like an oxymoron. Is freestyle OK?"

  "Sure, that sounds interesting. Does that include Karate, boxing, and biting?"

  She briefly looked taken aback. "Let′s just concentrate on swords today."

  "Time limit?"

  "Three minute rounds?"

  Sig nodded. "Lead the way."

  "Is here alright?"

  Sig looked around and saw twenty women surrounding them. He pointed toward the crowd. "OK, they may want to back up a bit and leave an opening. I may need room to run." He noticed several of the women smile and nod.

  Bella held out her sword. Sig touched his to hers with a clack. As soon as it made contact, she lunged with her point at his chest. Remembering Arianna′s tactic from the start of their match, he was ready for Bella, using his sword to guide hers to slide past.

  He stepped beyond her, and then hacked down and back at her Achilles. She managed to block him as she spun. His sword struck the ground below her heel instead of her leg.

  She attacked fiercely, slashing and hacking. He managed to block most of her assault as he backed away. It reminded him uncomfortably of the battle with Andras.

  He recognized an expert opponent when he met one; particularly given the freeform style of the match. Not quite the same as street fighting, but it combined elements of kendo, fencing, and eskrima, the Philippine fighting form. Her technique depended upon attack elements. He analyzed her attack and noted an occasionally repeated pattern – a thrust, followed by a diagonal cut, sweeping into an overhead chop. The next time she did it, he stepped forward when she raised the sword for the overhand, and thrust hard into her upper sternum, then dropped and rolled to his left.

  As he sprang to his feet out of the roll, expecting a back slash, the woman watching the clock called, "Time."

  Bella dropped the tip of her sword to the ground and rubbed her chest. She glowered at him.

  Sig bent over, hands on his knees, panting. He knew that blood loss from wounds she inflicted, if it were a battle with real swords, would weaken him. If it weakened him more than he felt now, he′d be dead. He looked up at her. "You developed a pattern I took advantage of. Thrust, diagonal slash, then overhead hack. Watch for it in the next round. Meanwhile, I think I′m bleeding to death."

  She looked speculatively at him. He leaned his sword against the wall and walked in a circle, hands on hips, breathing deeply. Keep her guessing and thinking. Maybe next time he′d make up a false observation to confuse her.

  After a minute′s rest, they resumed. Sig noticed that Bella′s attack this time appeared tentative, so he became the aggressor. She used a different technique. Quite a number of her combinations included slashes at the legs. A number of them connected. It was a good strategy. Weaken the legs and slow your opponent, then attack the vital core.

  He incorporated some of her technique into his attack. It slowed him down as he thought through new combinations instead of reacting. That opened him up for her counters. When the timekeeper called an end, they both bent over, hands on knees, spent, sweating, and with imaginary blood running down their bodies.

  Sig bowed to her. "Thanks for the match. I learned a lot from you today. Instead of going for killing or crippling blows, to gain points, bleed your opponent. Gain victory instead. Well played."

  Her eyes widened in surprise. She bowed back. When she looked up, her mouth opened in surprise. A rough push from behind knocked Sig to his knees. "Tough guy, you come here to beat up on girls?"

  As he fell, Sig recognized the voice. He rolled through his fall forward into a somersault, rising into a defensive crouch.

  He spun around to find Dmitri Nastase′s ugly face smiling down on him. Sig faked a punch then dropped into a leg sweep that caught Dmitri behind the knee. It felt like leg sweeping an oak, and was equally effective. Dmitri barely swayed, and then lashed out with a work boot clad foot.

  Sig dodged the kick and stepped in with combination punches to the giant′s kidneys. He grunted and swept a massive fist at Sig′s face, who ducked, but the glancing blow to the top of his head made him see stars.

  The stars revealed to him that this wasn′t the best decision he′d ever made. Where was Rick to provide common sense when he needed it?

  Another blow swept in. He dodged it but not the returning backhand that knocked him down. He rolled and sprang back to his feet, but Dmitri was quick. Before Sig settled his feet, the hulk grabbed for him. Sig, in turn, grabbed handfuls of the brute′s denim jacket and rolled backwards lifting with his feet, launching Dmitri over his head. He landed with a boom.

  Unfortunately, he held onto Sig′s gi when he landed. When they both rose, his huge paw still grasped Sig. He pulled Sig close and punched him in the ribs. To his ears, his breathe expelled with the sound of a stomped on chicken. His diaphragm froze. Air that he desperately needed was all around but he couldn′t suck it in. Being hit with a sledgehammer would be as pleasant. Before Sig recovered, Dmitri grabbed his gi in both hands, whirled like an Olympic hammer thrower, and launched Sig at the door ten feet away.

  His head and the back of his shoulders slammed into the door, knocking
it open. Momentum carried him outside. He tumbled down the steps, landing in a heap at the bottom. Smashing into the door had one good result. He could inhale again. Air was definitely not overrated. Expecting further attack, he scrambled to his feet, but the door swung closed. He looked right and left but didn′t see anyone. Good, no witnesses to his ignominious exit. Except for all of the Amazons inside. His lip raised in a snarl. Time to even things up. "Aðalbrandr."

  †††

  Striding to the door, he sheathed his sword over his back. When he opened the door, a smiling, Dmitri, stood two steps inside and smacked his fist into a meaty palm. Sig heard chattering in the background.

  He ducked and twisted his shoulders to enter through the training facility door. As he entered and straightened up, the room fell silent. Dmitri′s smile collapsed as he looked upwards. His stunned expression and gaping mouth indicated that he′d never looked up at someone over two feet taller.

  Enjoying the moment, Sig reached out with an index finger the size of the fat end of a pool cue, and poked it into Dmitri′s chest. "My little friend told me that someone jumped him from behind. I bet you did. You look like the type of weasel that would." Dmitri took a step backward.

  "Was it you?" Sig poked his chest again.

  Dmitri blustered, "We were just playing around. Nobody got hurt. Who in the hell are you?"

  "Playing?" Sig stepped forward in a flash and shoved Dmitri with both hands. He landed on his butt and slid across the waxed concrete floor.

  Sig smiled. "Can anyone play or do the rules say that I have to push you from behind?"

  Dmitri looked around and growled, "What the hell are you smiling about?"

  Sig glanced to the side and saw Giselle smiling. She winked.

  He walked toward Dmitri, who scooted backwards across the floor. Malevolence radiated from Dmitri, flooding Sig′s senses, but it wasn′t Dmitri. It was something new emanating from near him. Sig bent, grabbed Dmitri′s feet and lifted him into the air. He shook him up and down. Articles dropped out of Dmitri′s pockets. Sig let go and Dmitry dropped to the floor in a heap.

  His wallet, keys, the chewed stub of a pencil, a receipt, and a few coins fell out and scattered on the ground along with a strange looking object. Dark brown with mottled red, purple, and green striations running through it, it looked like a polished turd. Sig reached out to pick it up between thumb and index finger.

  As soon as he touched it, he flicked it away in disgust. It made him feel nauseous, creating a foul taste in his mouth, like gargling used motor oil. He wanted to spit.

  His foot raised and stomped on the object. A shriek from it abruptly terminated as he mashed it into the concrete.

  Dmitri, shouted, "No."

  Sig glared at him with disgust. "What the hell is that?"

  Dmitri jumped to his feet and hurried out the door. Sig watched him go and then looked back to the smear on the floor. It was a good thing that Dmitri left. He wanted to feed it to him. If he could bear to touch it again. His eyes widened in surprise as the smear evaporated in less than twenty seconds. A nasty smell laced with the scent of brimstone lingered.

  Sig walked to the door and turned, giving a half salute, "Ladies", he said with a smile before he ducked and twisted through, shutting it behind him.

  Outside, Sig spun, scanning the area. The feeling of someone watching tingled across is skin, but no one was visible. Taking advantage of his isolation, he grabbed the sword hilt over his shoulder and muttered the magic phrase to return to normal form, "Koma Aftur." The world around him grew larger.

  The training facility door slammed open and three women burst out glancing around. One asked Sig, "Did you see where the big guy went?"

  "Do you mean Dmitri or the other guy?"

  "The other guy."

  "He ran that way." He pointed toward the parking lot behind the building.

  "Do you know him?"

  "A mutual acquaintance introduced us."

  Giselle sauntered through the open doorway and looked down at Sig, a smile quirked one side of her generous lips.

  Bella walked out next. "Are you alright?"

  "No, I have bruises all over my body from your sword," Sig said.

  "No, I meant from Dmitri."

  "Naw, you hurt me worse."

  She grinned. "You flatterer."

  "Did you see the size of the sword that guy had? How′d you like to go up against that?" Sig asked.

  Bella winked. "It′s not the size of the sword; it′s how you use it."

  Sig nodded. "I′ve heard something like that before, but not about swords."

  The girl who asked him the first question interrupted. "You say you know him. Who is he?"

  "My friend introduced us because we′re the only two people he knows named Sig."

  "I′d like to meet him."

  After casting a wry expression at the girl at bottom of the steps, Giselle shook her head at Sig.

  Sig shrugged. "I′ll run it by him next time I see him."

  "OK. Thanks." She returned inside with the other girls except Giselle and Bella.

  Bella stayed outside for a moment longer. "You′re sure you′re alright? This isn′t some macho bullshit?"

  Sig laughed. "I promise, if I′m injured you′ll be the first to know. Someone has to kiss it and make it better."

  She looked him over for a moment, nodded, and then returned inside, leaving him and Giselle alone.

  "Wow, you really made a big impression."

  "I thought I could handle that overgrown bully in this form. I figured wrong. He′s pushed me around a number of times for no reason, other than he gets off on pushing people. I had to do something. When he threw me through the door, it set up the perfect opportunity$mdash;without blowing my cover."

  "There are a lot of ladies in there who are very pleased with your performance. He′s rude and obnoxious and thinks he′s God′s gift to women."

  "If no one likes him, why does he hang around?"

  "Now you′re asking a question I′m uncomfortable with."

  Sig cocked his head and looked at her quizzically.

  She looked at him for a moment before she said, "It′s a nasty Amazon secret. Many of our women are attracted to big guys. It′s almost a compulsion with some. It′s probably genetic. I′m sure you′ve noticed most of us are on the large size."

  "Is that why those girls wanted an introduction to my other body? Why did you shake your head when they asked?"

  "I don′t think you need to get signed up in the Amazon breeding program right now."

  "Amazon breeding program?" He looked at her incredulously.

  "Calm down big fella. Take it easy and learn the lay of the land, and no, I′m not referring to one of the girls inside."

  Sig chuckled and blushed. "I′d better get inside and change. I have to walk back to the lab for my afternoon appointment with the Professor." Again, he had the feeling as if someone spied on him. He looked back over each shoulder. No one was there.

  "Poor college student with no wheels, huh."

  "No, my truck had a small accident. I won′t have wheels until I get the insurance money to buy a new one."

  "Hit another car?"

  "No, a tree."

  "You hit a tree?"

  "No, the tree hit my car, it fell on it."

  She skewered him with a skeptical look. "A tree fell on your car? Really?"

  "Ask the Professor, he saw it. Lightning hit the tree and it fell on my car."

  She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "Okay. Go ahead and change. I′ll give you a ride to the lab. I′m going there to work this evening; it′s on my way."

  "Thank you. I′ll be right back." He looked up at the roofs around before he went inside, hoping to spot a spy. Nothing.

  Sig came out in less than five minutes. Giselle waited in a Jeep with very large knobby tires. He threw his bag in back, got in, and said, "Do you go off-roading much?"

  She placed it gear and sped away. "Just to go hunting." />
  "You hunt?"

  She looked amused when she glanced at him. "You don′t know many Amazons do you?"

  Sig rolled his eyes to the canvas cover on top of the Jeep as if contemplating. "No. Before a few days ago$mdash;none. In fact, I didn′t know Amazons were more than a myth. Now, suddenly they′re everywhere."

  "You make it sound like a bad thing."

  "Oh, I didn′t mean it like that. Actually, being around tall, athletic, attractive women is nice, if they weren′t always trying to beat the hell out of me."

  "I thought that′s what you were looking for when we were introduced."

  "Rick thought it would be a good icebreaker. I didn′t realize you guys would be so competitive."

  "You didn′t think we′d be competitive because we go to Northwestern, or because we′re women?"

  Sig sat with his mouth open for a moment. "Let me savor the flavor of shoe leather, while I think about your question."

  She remained silent for a few beats, and then said archly, "Well… are you still savoring or are you thinking?"

  "You′re not going to let it slide are you? OK, point made. I judged based on my experiences, which are limited."

  He pondered while they pulled into the parking lot. "My first thought is that I haven′t gone up against women who are competitive before, but I have; women in Dressage are very competitive. I just haven′t directly, physically competed against them."

  She pulled into a parking spot. "So you thought you′d come here and take it easy on us little old girls." She turned off the Jeep.

  He nodded. "Yup, you′re right. I came across as a misogynist, didn′t I?"

  "A misogynist hates women. I think the words you′re looking for are male chauvinist." She laughed, punched him in the shoulder, and said, "Isn′t personal revelation healthy and inspiring?"

  He got out of the car rubbing his shoulder. As they walked toward the lab, he asked, "What are you, a psych major?"

  "I started that way, and then switched to physics. Now I think I′ll double major. I want to understand magic better, but I also want to know how it makes people think and react to it."