Path of the Specialist

by Pedro Urvi

  Astrid launched herself into the attack. With a formidable leap and a somersault, she covered the distance that separated her from her target in the blink of an eye. She crossed the mist, appeared in front of the seated figure and launched a double thrust with her knives. But to her immense surprise, the figure was no longer there.

  “Were you looking for me?” came a voice to her right.

  She turned. “Gisli...”

  “In the flesh,” he replied, and poured the liquor all along the blade of the sword. Then he set it on fire with the torch he was holding in his other hand.

  When she saw the two weapons on fire, Astrid knew what she had to do. She held her two daggers in one hand and took out a container with the other. She poured a whitish liquid on to the blades of her curved knives, carefully replaced the top on the container and put it back in her belt. On contact with the liquid, the blades began to emit an icy, whitish vapor. Gisli saw this and attacked, delivering a stroke to her head with the flaming sword, but she ducked. The Elder attacked with the torch. Astrid turned a somersault to get out of his reach, and showed him her daggers of ice.

  “Smart move,” Gisli admitted. He was approaching her, but indirectly.

  Gisli was going to be a seriously tough opponent. She was in trouble. She did not think she could defeat him, but she had to try. The sword sought her stomach, but she saw it coming and blocked it with a dagger. As fire met ice there was a flare, and the sword went out. Gisli used the torch as a club, aiming for Astrid’s forward foot, but she blocked it with her other dagger, and once again, as the two elements made contact, there was a reaction. Astrid began a sequence of attack movements that were precise, combined and coordinated. Gisli recognized this and blocked all of them with his sword and torch. But with each blocking movement, the fire on his weapons began to fade a little more.

  He leapt to get out of her reach and saw the fire in his sword and torch dwindle and fade.

  “Well done,” he said, and threw his weapons to the ground. “I do better with these.” He took out a Ranger’s knife and short axe.

  Astrid realized that she would have to fight the Elder with short-range weapons, so she decided to change her strategy. She put away her curved knives and took out the long ones used for stabbing. From her belt she took an ointment and smeared the blades while she moved away carefully from him. She took out a phial and poured a brown liquid on to the blades. Gisli tried to stop her with a quick attack, but she managed to make the knives react a moment before his attack reached her. She dodged him by stepping aside with great speed and agility.

  Gisli attacked with a combination of knife-stabs, followed by a circular swing with his axe. Astrid blocked both attacks with her two knives. When she did so, there were two small bursts of smoke and dust which got into Gisli’s eyes and blinded him. She had created an elemental compound of Earth for her daggers. Gisli, blinded, retreated, trying to wipe his eyes as he did so. Astrid saw her chance and was ruthless. With a prodigious leap she fell on him and marked him in the stomach with both knives.

  “Very well done,” the Elder told her. “You overpowered me. Go on.”

  Astrid let out her breath sharply. Filled with renewed confidence, she went on with the test. It was not long before she saw her second target. Coming around a bend in the path, she saw a figure in the distance standing by the path, and immediately hid. Behind the target an oil lamp hung from a tree, lighting up the immediate area. In its hands the figure held a compound bow. From the way the bow was being held, she knew who it was: Elder Ivar. She could not get to three hundred paces from him or he would get her. There was no-one better with a bow. How was she going to get to him? Not from the path, that was for sure. She thought about how to do it and came to a decision: she would follow a straight line from behind to the tree where the lamp was hanging, since with Ivar positioned as he was, it was blocking his vision.

  She began that long detour. It took her a long while, but patience was the virtue of the Assassin of Nature; Engla had taught her that and Astrid had interiorized it like a dogma. There was no haste on her part. She crawled across the snow in complete silence, as if she were an albino snake. One sound, not matter how small, and she would be lost. She was up against an Elder who knew every sound in the forest, and what was worse, where Ivar set his sight, he put his arrow, as she knew very well. She came closer with the utmost care and very, very slowly.

  Ivar looked in every direction every now and then, never following the same pattern or order, which was giving her no chance to prepare a planned attack. But the tree at his back was blocking his view, so this was what she would make use of. She moved on, ever more slowly and stealthily, like a spirit of the winter forest looking for a soul to steal away. When she reached the tree, she straightened up very slowly with her back to it. Ivar was on the other side.

  Very slowly, she took out the two knives with their long thin blades for stabbing. She smeared a blue ointment on the blades, then from a phial she poured a few drops on them. The substance from the phial reacted with the ointment on the blades, and the knives sparkled with a blue brilliance. An electric arc leapt from one blade to the other, and at once more arcs formed with a crackling noise.

  Ivar heard the sound. With a swift move he turned and circled the tree to the right to get free of it. Astrid had already anticipated this move, and instantly crouched. His bow appeared to her left. She had only a single moment before he released, and rolled over her head in a dazzling move. Ivar had to adjust the shot to the attacking movement and was unable to release. Astrid finished her move, and with her two knives crossed she struck the bow and arrow. The resulting electrical discharge flickered up Ivar’s hand as far as his arm and struck his head with a blue arc.

  “Ouch!” he cried, and released.

  The arrow went too high. He stepped back, stunned, shook his head and tried to nock another arrow. Astrid attacked immediately and launched two thrusts at his legs. He avoided the first, but for the second he was too slow and the knife caught him in the thigh. Another discharge shot up his leg. He tried to shake it off unsuccessfully and raised his bow above his head.

  “You’ve overpowered me. Go on.”

  Astrid, still crouching, looked at him doubtfully. The Elder nodded. She gave him a respectful nod and went on her way. She had done it. Now there was only her last target left. She found it at the end of the path, where the forest came to an end. And as soon as she made out the target she knew who it was: Engla, her Teacher. She breathed out in frustration. This was going to be extremely difficult.

  Engla was waiting for her, armed with two curved knives. She had not activated any element in them. She was in the middle of the path so that she could see to both east and west. There was no way of approaching her from the north, from behind, because the forest ended there, which meant that she would not be able to take her by surprise. Engla was challenging her to a duel: a one-to-one combat. Astrid knew that she could never beat her in that kind of fight, and walked on slowly down the path. As she went, she was thinking out her strategy.

  “Pupil,” Engla greeted her from the distance with a nod.

  “Ma’am,” Astrid replied. She reached behind her back.

  “I’m glad you’ve come this far.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am, it hasn’t been easy,” Astrid said as she walked on, and with a whiplash movement of her right hand she hurled the throwing knife.

  Engla, with a lightning move, deflected the knife at the level of her face.

  “Good try.”

  Astrid went on walking toward her.

  “Not good enough,” she said, and hurled with her left hand.

  Once again Engla deflected the knife, but this time she almost failed.

  “Great throw.”

  Astrid took out her curved knives. She stopped and swiftly poured some substance on them.

  “Shall we begin?” the Elder said.

  Astrid launched herself into the attack. Engla received her in a defensi
ve stance. The two exchanged attacks, blocks and counterattacks with dazzling speed and coordination. The knives flew, and the metallic sound of their exchanges filled the clearing. Several times sparks leapt from the blades as they brushed against one another fast and hard. For each attack there came a defense, followed by a counterattack and a fresh defense. Both were expert fighters with knives, but as Astrid feared, Engla was better, and gradually she began to take the advantage. Her own defense was beginning to come a moment too late, and she knew she was going to lose. It was just a matter of time, so she decided to risk it all in a suicide attack. It was her only option. She would never get through Engla’s defenses, and her own were leaking.

  Engla delivered a stroke to her heart, and her opportunity came. She deflected it, but instead of counterattacking, which is what Engla was expecting, she somersaulted backwards to get out of the Elder’s reach. Engla hesitated, and the movement was not typical of her. Astrid did another somersault back,

  “Are you running away?” Engla asked her. She sounded annoyed.

  Astrid stopped and looked at the Elder. She took a deep breath and attacked with a couple of somersaults forward. Engla, surprised, tried to block the unorthodox attack. Astrid came out of the somersault two handbreadths from her opponent’s face. She launched a stroke which the Elder blocked, then with her other knife she attacked Engla’s foot. She hit it squarely, but in doing so she left her back uncovered and Engla stabbed her with her two knives.

  “You’re dead,” she said.

  “I know. But, Ma’am...” She pointed to the mark on Engla’s foot, “so are you.”

  “It’s not a deadly wound. The ones I gave you were.”

  “On the contrary, Ma’am. It is.” Astrid showed her the blades of her knives, where a green substance shone.

  Engla understood. “Poison...”

  “Winter Death,” Astrid explained.

  “Well done!”

  They came out of the forest, and when they reached Sigrid, Engla spoke to her.

  “Test completed!” Sigrid announced

  “Did she make it?” Lasgol asked nervously.

  Luca shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “I hope she did.”

  Astrid went back to the Lair, leaving her friends without an answer.

  Sigrid and Engla declared the tests of Expertise over for that night. Sigrid made them spend that night and the following day outside. Viggo was very unhappy about it and did not stop complaining.

  Chapter 46

  On the second night the tests continued. The first to be called was Jorgen. The Forest Assassin Test was similar to Astrid’s, with the difference that Jorgen had to go into the forest first and prepare three ambushes for the Elders at different points along the path which crossed it. He used traps and decoys to trick them. With extreme skill, he surprised Gisli with some very well-hidden traps, Ivar with a decoy and a trap that left the Elder stunned and blinded. On the other hand, he could not surprise Engla. He did not get her to fall into the traps, and in the fight that followed the ambush he lost.

  The next one called by Sigrid was Aren. The Chameleon Stalker went into the forest and vanished into it. His skill at camouflaging himself was impressive, as though he had turned into a genuine human chameleon. Like Jorgen, he was able to stalk, wait for the right moment and surprise both Gisli and Ivar. He managed to mark both of them: the first with his short bow and from very close, the latter by dropping from a tree on top of him with knives. Unfortunately, he was not able to overcome Engla. The Elder spotted him stalking, and after dodging the arrow that was meant to hit her side, she launched her attack. Aren lost the knife fight which followed.

  With these two tests the day was brought to an end, and everybody else had to spend another day outside. Luckily supplies and blankets were fetched for them from the Lair, but it was impossible to rest properly in that hostile weather, which of course would affect their tests. Viggo cursed the Ice Gods for his bad luck in being the last one in Expertise.

  On the third night his turn came at last. When Sigrid called him, he shook the cold from his body as best he could and followed her.

  Lasgol was very nervous on his behalf. Luca and Erika encouraged him, but he acted as the person he was, as if as far as he was concerned the test was completely unimportant – which meant he really did care, and care deeply.

  “Show them what you’re worth!” Lasgol called encouragingly after him.

  Viggo looked back at him and smiled. “I will, don’t worry.” And that cold, lethal look they had seen before appeared in his eyes.

  Sigrid welcomed him with a sarcastic smile.

  “The Expertise Specialty Tests are always complicated. That of Natural Assassin is even more so. Only those with an innate skill will be able to pass.”

  Viggo arched an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”

  “We’ll see, that’s true. Good luck.”

  “I don’t need any luck, I’ve got myself, and that’s enough.”

  Sigrid smiled. “You’re going to have to overcome three obstacles and come out of the forest unbeaten. Ready, Natural Assassin?”

  “Ready.”

  Viggo stepped on to the path and set off with his eyes wide open and all his senses alert. It was snowing heavily and the wind was strong and icy, coming from the west, which made the test more difficult. Also, the fact that he had barely rested for two nights and spent three days outdoors in the middle of a winter storm was weighing heavily on him. At the first obstacle, two figures armed with Ranger’s long knives and short axes were waiting in the middle of the path. Viggo smiled. He preferred this type of direct confrontation, without detours or camouflage: a direct fight. That was his forte, in any case. He had practiced a lot, and he trusted three things: his body, what he had learnt and his innate skills. With all those, whether he won or lost, he would give it everything he had.

  He approached the two figures in the snow who pushed back their hoods and revealed their faces.

  “Gisli... and Loke... an Elder and an experienced Specialist. You’re not exactly making this easy for me.”

  “Are you going to be able to beat us?” Gisli asked.

  “I am,” Viggo said confidently.

  “I see you’re very sure of yourself,” Loke said.

  “I’m very good.”

  “We’ll see about that now,” said Gisli.

  Viggo drew his two curved marking knives and took up his position. Gisli and Loke presented their weapons and nodded by way of salute. Viggo nodded back and launched into the attack. With a prodigious leap he fell on Loke and delivered two cuts to his neck, which the Masig blocked skillfully. Gisli attacked with his knife, trying to reach his back, but he moved with unusual speed to avoid being hit and then used his knives to counterattack Gisli at the level of his torso. The Elder, surprised by his speed, had to block and retreat two steps back. Loke attacked Viggo’s side, but he turned like lightning, blocked the attack and launched a kick at Loke’s stomach which left him breathless.

  Gisli was pleasantly surprised, “That kick isn’t taught here,” he said.

  “It’s from my personal repertoire. You learn a lot in the slums when you’ve got to survive on your own.”

  Before Loke could recover, Viggo hurled himself at Gisli and attacked with a combination of thrusts and feints, at dazzling speed. Gisli had a hard time blocking and deflecting the attacks and was on the brink of being marked, but managed to recover. Loke, recovered by now, attacked Viggo from behind, but he turned around and counterattacked. Gisli joined Loke and both of them attacked together, sure that he could not cope with two attackers simultaneously.

  They were wrong.

  Viggo was blocking right and left with a speed, coordination and mastery in the use of the knives that rivaled Engla herself. They piled pressure on him even more, and then something happened which neither Gisli nor Loke had been expecting. The more they pressed him as they tried to reach him, the better he defended himself and counteratta
cked. It was as though he could read every attack and counter it in an instant. He let the axe-blows pass by shifting his body with extreme agility and speed. Those with the knife he was able to block and counter, as his technique with this weapon was better than those of his attackers.

  “You’re tough,” Gisli admitted. He was sweating profusely by now from the effort in the snow.

  Viggo said nothing and launched a kick at the Elder’s torso which he had not been expecting, and he fell backwards. Loke tried to help him by hurling himself at Viggo in a desperate attack, but that was exactly what Viggo was waiting for: a mistake he could make use of. He blocked Loke’s initial attack, and then, before Gisli could get back on his feet, attacked Loke with an unstoppable combination of thrust and slash at his right arm. He marked him. Loke cursed, and Viggo attacked again with a feint which he tried unsuccessfully to block with his axe. Viggo’s knife got him in the neck.

  “Defeated,” Loke admitted, and lowered his arms.

  Viggo felt a presence behind him. It was Gisli attacking with his axe. He rolled to one side and the Elder spun to face him, but Viggo rolled over himself again and stood up.

  “One last dance, master?”

  Gisli smiled.

  “Let the music begin.”

  Viggo attacked like a cyclone, delivering cuts and stabs which Gisli tried to block and deflect. His speed and expertise were such that the Elder could not even counterattack; all he could do was defend himself. Viggo increased the pace of his ferocious attacks and his opponent began to take an instant longer with his thrusts and parries. He was growing tired. Viggo realized this and kept putting on the pressure until he managed to slow Gisli’s movements down. The Elder was defending himself very well, so that Viggo could see no way of breaking his defense, but seeing that his opponent’s movements were slowing now, he decided to use a trick. He launched three consecutive attacks to neck and head. The Elder blocked them, but left his legs uncovered. Viggo threw himself on the ground, kicked hard at Gisli’s legs and brought him down. The Elder fell on his back. He tried to get back up, but it was too late. Viggo jumped on his torso like a panther and marked him with his two knives.