Chapter Thirty-Five
An Incoming Rider
Maerillus jigged back as his opponent opened up with a furious volley of jabs. His hands throbbed from the countless impact of parries and blocks so that every time he had the chance, he checked to see if he his finger were still there. Quickly, he backpedaled to open up enough distance to launch a counterattack, but the infernal man kept moving relentlessly toward him.
“Do it now!” Jolan Kine shouted, and Maerillus thought fleetingly that the man had to be crazy. If he tried pulling the move they had worked so hard on all morning, the officer wielding the practice sword was going to brain him a good one on his helm.
Maerillus cursed. The man was coming on too quickly for him to do anything except back up until he lost his balance and fell.
Before he allowed himself time to think about what he was doing, Maerillus launched himself forward, feeling incredibly awkward, and went low into a rolling dive.
The sudden change in direction took his opponent by surprise, and the man’s sword passed harmlessly over Maerillus’s head. Wincing, he pushed himself up like a spring and whipped his arm around and took his practice partner hard on his left side, just below his ribs.
The man grunted and froze for one brief moment while Maer stood there panting, feeling incredibly lucky that he didn’t have a knot rising off the top of his head. Both of them took off their leather practice armor.
“I didn’t see that one coming!” Lieutenant Hamm said with a broad smile. “You’re learning some of the Hammer’s secrets I see.”
The officer gave Maerillus a friendly shove that nearly drove him to his knees, but he didn’t dare let it show. Between deep gulps of air, Maerillus found enough to say earnestly, “That last attack was a killer.”
“Once you’ve got an opening you’ve got to press it like your life depends on it, young Mr. Sartor.”
Jolan Kine’s voice broke in a moment later. “And that’s because it does.”
“Aye,” agreed Hamm.
“Not bad,” Kine said approvingly. “If you don’t do anything stupid like Niam’s last maneuver you might live to see your next birthday.”
Niam of course wasn’t going to let that one slide. “Um . . . may I remind everyone that my ‘stupid maneuver’ worked?”
Jolan Kine looked less than amused.
“Unhooking the straps on your sparing partner’s practice armor before a match does not count as a win.” Jolan Kine was very emphatic about the “not.”
“Hey, it fell off—I saw an opening—I made my move. Good enough for me.”
“This isn’t a game,” the Wizard’s Hammer reminded him.
“I’m just saying.”
Maerillus knew not many people would have realized that Niam really didn’t see what he had done as merely a joke. Between the workouts with the soldiers, the Hammer, and the Count, Niam had been taking the worst poundings out of the three of them. Growing up running from Bode and his band of bullies had forced Niam to consider options no one else would have. He certainly never could have matched Bode muscle for muscle, so instead of using his fists, he did things like trick him into falling over the edge of an old privy well. Maerillus never would have admitted it to Niam, but he sometimes found Niam’s way of handling things poetic.
Sometimes.
When it didn’t almost get them killed.
“You do have to take this training seriously,” Maerillus chided him.
“I’ve got twice as many bruises as anyone else,” Niam said, and they both closed their eyes sympathetically as Davin took blows from Joachim on the other side of the barn where he and the Count dueled one another with Joachim correcting him, then repeating new moves until he got them right.
Which didn’t take long.
Already, Davin looked like a pro. None of them could have kept up with Joachim, and although Davin still trailed behind Joachim in skill and finesse, he took longer and longer to beat each day that passed. Davin was already as good as any of Joachim’s seasoned regulars.
“Ow!” Davin cried out as Joachim spun his sword, sending Davin’s flying, and then brought the tip of his blade down across Davin’s wrist.
Niam whistled. “Well, maybe Davin’s catching up with me on the bruise thing.”
“You think?” Maerillus said sarcastically.
From outside, a soldier shouted, “Incoming rider!”
Joachim lowered is sword and walked to the barn’s massive sliding door and pushed it aside allowing the harsh glare of brightly lit snow to flood the interior. Maerillus averted his eyes until they adjusted.
Galloping hard, a soldier raced down the long road leading to the complex of barns, kitchens, servants’ homes, and storage buildings behind the sprawling Joachim family estate.
“What now?” Joachim asked aloud.
Jolan Kine moved up to stand beside him as the soldier rode down the deeply furrowed path in the snow shoveled out by the soldiers. The man brought his winded mount to a halt.
“Report,” Joachim said before the man had a chance to salute.
“Another attack, sir! Mayor Ledge . . . his daughter, I mean. At the mayor’s office.”
Joachim looked stunned. His voice cracked. “How long ago?”
“Two days, sir.” The soldier looked nervous, as if he were about to be sick. “The road was too bad to get here until now. The mayor had nearly everyone shoveling so we could get word to you. There’s more. Another person was attacked, but several people said it wasn’t a trall.” The man fell silent for a moment, uncertain how to proceed.
“Spit it out!” Joachim demanded.
“Witnesses said they saw men running from the second murder site and that they were dressed in our uniforms.”
Joachim let out an explosive breath.
“Well this does make things interesting,” Kine said darkly.
Maerillus was about to give Niam an I-don’t-think-you-should-open-your-mouth-right-now look, but Niam appeared to be too stunned to say anything.
“That’s ridiculous,” the lieutenant said in disgust.
“Yes,” Jolan Kine agreed. “And clever.”
“I’d pay good money to know just how many ‘friends’ that filthy, dung-eating sack of vermin has waiting to bite at my boots,” Joachim said angrily. “Karin is . . . was a dear friend, and she died because of it.”
Above them, the soldier cleared his throat. Everyone looked up at him. “Ledge told me that Lord Eason’s men were going around talking to anyone who would listen about how badly you’ve made a mess of things, sir.”
“And the worm turns,” Kine mumbled.
Joachim’s fists clenched.
“What are your thoughts?” the Hammer asked.
“We’ve got to get to Old Flood before the sun sets,” he told Kine. “This thing is about to explode if I don’t get it contained.”
“There are still things we’re missing,” Kine warned.
“Don’t I know it,” Joachim rumbled.
The Dread Lords Rising Page 76
