“Skarde was laughing… Just laughing. I am afraid he will make chaos…”
“Well, my love, we shall be ready to greet chaos with cheer and good wine,” I thought back, smiling at her and stealing another kiss. I tucked her into my chest and followed Axis and Ilisa toward the front of the castle. Kajo had great plans for this connection with Vailstor and I trusted Ilisa would make good on our commands. She was a good soldier for Farian, no doubt. Axis and I had trained her well.
Four
Ilisa
I flew backward across the training ring as Kala landed a daring blow, a full kick to my chest as she launched off a post in the middle of the ring, meant to provide a more exciting obstacle to work around, sending me sprawling to the mats. I gathered myself quickly, spinning up and dashing to the side before she could hammer down on me with the wooden mace. I dashed away, breathing heavily through the training mask. Modifi was just behind me, swinging a matching mace at my head and I ducked below it, barely in time. Natives of Harthen surrounded the ring, jeering and cheering to see the five Bristolans sparring in the ring. It was four on one, just the leading Bravo against her four trustworthy comrades; and, I was losing.
A deadly silence filled the ring, just as Dinera’s broadsword clashed down on my shield. I looked up from behind its guard to see Lord Skarde stepping into the ring.
“Shall I aid you, Bravo Ilisa?” He brandished a training broadsword before him. “Please, don’t hold back. I see you’re practicing without your telekinetic powers right now. I’d prefer you all use them.”
Dinera pulled back the tension of her sword on my shield, I straightened, the other Bristolans looked at me for command, and I nodded. Without hesitation, Modifi spun his knives into the air and flung them one, two, three, four, five like bullets straight toward the Berserker. Granted, they were all polyurethane training knives, but they could still leave bruises.
In response, Skarde flicked his broadsword effortlessly, moving it more quickly than I had ever seen one move, tipping the knives away, flicking away three of them and dodging out of the range of the last two with a simple movement to the side. They traced him with Modifi’s flashing telekinetic direction but I lunged up and threw my shield to block them.
Skarde glanced my direction, nodded thanks, then he was crossing his blade with Kala’s mace and I was returning to my own crossed blade with Dinera and Vesom. Vessom preferred a staff and he kept stabbing at me from a distance while I tried to tuck in close to Dinera. Now that telekinesis was on the table, the tides were turning. One reason we had been practicing without the mental arts was because my troop knew they fared better when they didn’t battle me mentally; I was quite superior.
I swung low at Dinera, forcing her to slide backward and slash down, as if I were exposed, which I was, without my shield, but I surprised her by throwing myself into a telekinetic sweep, gliding myself between her legs so quickly that she couldn’t react and I took one out, wrapping a rope I had around them both as I swept by, then lashing her arms together as I came out on the other side as she cried out, disabling her and putting her between myself and Vesom.
Dinera down.
Skarde had somehow taken Kala’s weapon and she was stranded in the corner of the ring, hands up, prepared to take him on with her fists, but knowing she would fail as he towered over her and she sank to her knees, shaking her head.
He turned to Modifi, who flung his mace out in front of him like a trident, lasered toward Skarde. The Berserker leapt into the air like a lion and swept the weapon aside like a fly from a flower and held the point of his blade at Modifi’s throat, howling like a wolf.
Silence reigned as the scream subsided.
Muttering grew from the watching Harthen crowd.
My heart beat rapidly in my chest. I watched the muscles ripple in Skarde’s shoulders as he held his sword at Modifi’s gulping throat. Modifi held his hands up at his sides, beaten.
The only one of the Bristolans with a weapon still was Vesom with his spear.
Skarde released Modifi and turned to Vesom, knocking aside the spear. His face was so fierce, so fearless… Tendrils of his long hair had tumbled from the bun and hung about his ears and I wanted to tuck my fingers into it… I wanted to run my fingers over his jawline…
A whisper of desire grew in my chest as I watched this man triumph over all my soldiers… I could feel the heat rising in my temples and my mouth and lips were dry, and not just from the expended energy of the sparring. What was wrong with me? This man was beneath me!
But… clearly not… Without the skills of the mental arts… Facing down all my best… Such skill.. Such tactical and raw, brute talent… And, goodness, his body… Rippling athletic muscle finesse…
“Lord Skarde!”
A runner came dashing up to the side of the mat. Skarde and I turned to face the young messenger.
“Yes?”
“Some of Fenvitz’s men have broken into the armory. They have killed some of the guards and are trying to ransack the castle’s supplies!”
Skarde looked at me quickly.
“Let’s go!”
I flashed my hand toward our real weapons, piled in a corner near the training ring. My Bristolans were immediately moved to action to do the same thing. Our weapons rose and came to our hands easily, flying through the air at our call. Then we were hopping out of the training ring and following Skarde, our new charge, and running out of the training arena up the halls toward the armory.
This was our mission and we would protect him,
