Shadowborn

Chapter Eleven: The Lancer

Chapter Eleven: The Lancer

We were slowed a bit by the snow that began to fall in the late afternoon, but by the time the sun started to set Korey seemed pretty happy with our progress. Once they’d gotten the horses squared away and circled the wagons up, they got a decent sized fire set between them. I made good on my promise to Jezal about the golem after that. I summoned it and told Rhallani to do some simple commands as Jezal asked for it, but I made sure to tell her not to let her mana fall below half just in case of an ambush. I didn’t think anyone would attack us until we got further from the city, but I wasn’t going to make any assumptions.

Jezal, who I’d gathered to be some level of artificer, was enraptured. Mai, though she rarely said a word, seemed just as interested. I hung around for a bit, but Gram ensured me he’d keep an eye on things and make sure Jezal didn’t get too excited. The Dragonling looked like he could have tossed both women over his large, black-scaled shoulders with ease, so I left chaperoning to him. I wanted Scarlet to start warming up to Rhallani, so I left her with them as well.

They’d set two-man watches, switching every four hours, so Yen and Sola went to take spots just on the edge of the firelight. After some friendly ribbing, Pierce’s group and Fel’s group started pairing up to spar a little so everyone could get a handle on one another’s fighting styles.

First up Fel and Al tangled swords. I got the feeling that Al was more comfortable with his bow than the shortsword he used, but he was still pretty quick with it. Fel on the other hand fought with the immaculate technique of someone who’d trained under the best of tutors. He was lightning fast and struck with a well-practiced accuracy. He fought Al with an almost contemptuous ease. It wasn’t until Al was panting and gasping for breath that he finally disarmed the rogue.

Rastra and Lana’s “duel” was more of a showcase. Lana was capable of mostly precision water and ice magics while Rastra threw flames around with much more power than control. If it came to a melee, especially in a forest, Rastra’s magic would likely do more harm than good. So far I wasn’t particularly fond of either woman, but I also had a more-than-healthy dislike for just about any mages. I’d do my best to reserve judgment.

As the final two, Pierce and Serena squared off. Pierce rubbed me the wrong way at times, but I couldn’t deny he was a skilled warrior. He fought a mostly defensive battle, but his moves were quick and efficient. None of the flourish Fel put into every one of his moves. Where Fel fought like a river, flowing and twisting his entire body with each strike, Pierce fought like a tree. Tall, wide, and immovable. His arms were a blur, and from the few times he did attack I got the feeling his hits would pack a wallop. The fight lasted for some time, but not because he was toying with Serena. In fact, I had the feeling he saw the same thing I did.

Three strikes in and I could tell she’d never had a real teacher. Her grip was off, her stance was all over the place, she overextended every other strike, and she seemed unable to think about offense and defense at the same time. I doubted she’d ever really sparred against a skilled opponent from the way Pierce was able to take her apart at leisure. That being said, she had one thing going for her.

She was a natural.

Anyone else wouldn’t have lasted two seconds, but she reacted lightning fast. She recovered from mistakes that should have ended the duel right then and there and her balance was impeccable despite her poor footwork. With a little training, she would be a force to be reckoned with. Unfortunately for her, there was something working against her that Pierce must have noticed as well, since he used it to send her ass over teakettle into the dirt with a well placed shoulder.

Serena had clearly never fought in that shiny armor of hers. Any armor, unless I was mistaken. She made an angry noise and slammed her fist into the dirt, and I made the mistake of letting out a soft chuckle. She glared at me with obvious hatred in her eyes.

“Something to say?” she demanded.

I probably could have kept my mouth shut, but I was still a little raw at the assumptions she’d made earlier. “I was just wondering whose idea it was to buy that armor, since I doubt it was yours.”

Sola hid a giggle behind her hand, which only made Serena’s cheeks grow redder. “I suppose you know all about how to wield a spear then, swordsman? I notice you don’t even wear armor, so I can’t help but wonder just how much fighting you do at all. Unless, of course, you just hide behind your slaves.”

Anger pricked at me, but I’d been dealt worse insults. Still, I could tell that this was something best dealt with sooner than later. I rose to my feet with a disinterested sigh. “First off, they aren’t my slaves. You’d do well not to make that mistake again. Second, as it so happens, I do know a little about spear work. I could give you some tips, if you’d like.”

It wasn’t a lie. I wasn’t the biggest fan of polearms, but it was always smart to have something with reach in your arsenal. Especially when many of the things you fought had big teeth and nasty claws. Serena rose to her feet, her face even redder than before. “I don’t need any advice from someone like you.”

Everyone was watching with rapt attention. Fel, Sola, and Al with amusement, Rastra and Lana with passing interest, and Pierce with an intense curiosity. I could back down. Probably should, considering I had no idea what her skills were. I had a feeling Fel had instructed her not to use her skills since I hadn’t seen any sign of them activating during the duel with Pierce, so there was no way to gage what her level was.

Still, even if I lost, I could prove I was at least a little handy in a fight. I walked towards the impromptu dueling ring and summoned the spear I’d taken from the bandit with a flourish. I touched the sword at my hip with my other hand and banished it at the same time. I heard intakes of breath from behind me, and I jammed the butt of the spear into the ground. “Prove it.”

She sputtered, then gripped her spear with both hands so tightly the tip trembled. “Assume your ready stance.”

I leaned on the spear lazily. “Ready? I’m ready now.”

That had the desired reaction. She lunged forward and thrust her spear towards my stomach, but I just spun my own weapon one-handed and knocked the strike aside. I stepped in close and rapped the wooden haft into her ribs, then stepped out of her reach before she could spin around. I wasn’t Pierce. I’d been raised and trained to allow no room for error, and her armor would mean she would barely feel the tap. The thing that was hurt most was her pride.

“Big opening moves are a mistake when you don’t know your opponent’s level of skill,” I told her.

With a growl, she spun her spear and struck three times in the blink of an eye. I caught two with my spear and the third with my hand. I recognized the skill. [Flurry Strike]. Not spear-specific, and also not a great opener. I yanked the spear hard enough to pull her off balance and smacked the back of her shoulderblades.

“Offset your feet, and for fortune’s sake don’t let your feet ever get any closer together than your shoulders.”

She dropped into a stance that looked at least a little better than before and circled me. Good, she was at least taking a second to examine opponent. She’d barely stopped to think during her duel with Pierce. “Tell me, do you ever follow your own advice or do you just enjoy condescending?”

I arched a brow. “Make me break a sweat and I just might.”

Her next move was to dance in at an angle, bringing her spear low. Then she seemed to twist mid-step and the tip was suddenly coming at me from above. [Feinting Strike]. A false attack followed immediately by a strike from a different direction. It might have worked had she not come at me completely differently than before, clearly signaling she was trying something.

Rather than even trying to block, I stepped in close and caught her wrist with my free hand. I flipped my spear and jammed it into the ground just behind her, then slammed my shoulder into her breastplate. Her feet tangled in my spear and she fell backwards. She would have landed flat on her back had my hand not shot out and grabbed the front of her breastplate.

“Stop opening with skills,” I said as I held her up. She was heavy in her armor, but I managed to keep my arm from trembling. “Every time you use one, you attack differently. You need to learn to work them into regular combos so your enemy doesn’t expect them as much.”

I dangled her for a few more seconds to make my point land, then I hauled her to her feet and shoved her back. I pulled my spear out of the ground and twirled it. “Again.”

She happily obliged, and she didn’t even open with a skill. She brought the spear over her head and spun it for momentum before slamming it into me from the side. I had to finally use both hands thanks to the force behind the blow. She had high strength, that was for certain. She bounced off my block masterfully, dancing at me with a barrage of unskilled strikes that led into another [Feinting Blow]. It was leagues better than her first attempt, but there was a brief hesitation between her normal strike and her skill activating.

It was expected considering she was learning on the fly, but it was still enough of a tell that I managed to divert the strike. There was a lag after the skill too, but just like before she recovered quickly. Thanks to her focusing on her footwork now, she was even able to get in a few more blows while she twisted into a better position. We traded back and forth for a full minute, and she managed to sneak a cut on my ribs with a very well-placed [Flurry Strike]. She had another problem, however, that I felt the need to correct.

Our spears crossed again and I twisted mine inside before I brought the other end forward and pulled the head back. She pitched forward, and I hit her in the cheek with the section of my haft between my hands. Her head jerked back and she stumbled, losing her grip on her weapon. Her arms flailed, and she fell onto her rear. From the way she moved, I suspected that if she hadn’t been weighed down by armor she’d have been able to recover.

She rubbed her cheek in a daze while I scooped her spear up. It was a fine weapon, well made and very balanced. “You’ve got five feet of weapon here, and you’re only using the last few inches.” I held it out to her, butt first, and yanked her to her feet when she grabbed onto it before letting it go. “You need to be able to use every inch like its second nature.”

I could feel sweat trickling down my brow, so I smiled. I shifted my feet into a stance and raised my spear. “Ready for another?”

She looked at the weapon in her hands for several seconds before she looked back up at me. Then she nodded, determination replacing all her frustration, and got into her own ready stance. This time I attacked first. I darted forward and imitated her [Feinting Blow], though without the skill. It wasn’t as effective, but it put her enough off balance for me to bring the butt of my weapon up and knock her back.

Her balance never wavered, and she transitioned beautifully between falling and spinning into another strike. She stabbed three times, swept at my feet, activated [Flurry Strike], brought the butt end down from above, then spun with a wide swing that I barely managed to block in time. She bounced off the block again, but this time instead of bringing her weapon all the way around she twisted and slammed the haft into my stomach. I staggered back and doubled over, and she looked more surprised than that her hit landed.

“Good shot,” I grunted. I forced air back into my lungs and stood. “You’re an even quicker learner than I thought you’d be.” Her redness returned, but there was no anger behind it this time.

I dropped into a stance again, and this time we both attacked at once. There were no lessons or advice, only the crossing of two weapons. The camp around us melted away until there were just the two of us going toe to toe. Time faded, and the only thing that mattered was the slamming of wood on wood. The smacks of strikes finding their way past defenses. The controlled breathing of two fighters. She worked more skills into the exchange, and each one got smoother and smoother until I could hardly see them coming.

Then, after a particularly intense exchange of over a dozen blows between us, she danced back until she was nearly at the edge of the arena. I could have followed her fairly easily, but I was curious to see what she was about to do.

She leveled the tip of her spear at my heart and I saw the head glow golden. Winds of the same color swirled around her ankles, and then she was shooting forward like an arrow. Her feet slid along the ground like it was made of ice, and swirls of gold and red light trailed from the tip of her spear as she sailed across the little arena in the blink of an eye.

I hardened at her words, and she pressed into my erection. Even through about six layers of fabric, the sensation was heavenly. I looked at her incredulously, and my mind went back to the “one of your wives” comment from this morning. “You are something else.” Then I noticed the triumphant look in her eye. “You little pervert,” I hissed, and she shivered at the word, “you’re just trying to get back at me for taking the watch tonight.”

“Am I?” Her innocent act was so convincing I wondered why I’d ever thought she was a poor liar.

I leaned in close, just out of range of her lips, then reached up and flicked her nose. “You’re lucky I have a cloak on. Besides, I don’t think Serena has any plans to end up in my bed in any lifetime.”

At her confused expression, I told her about what had happened when I first arrived at the caravan. Her expression grew furious. “And you didn’t tell her the truth?” she demanded.

“No point. As far as she was concerned, all the proof she needed was under Scarlet’s hood. Anything I said would have sounded like an excuse.”

She looked as annoyed by that as I felt, but I heard Pierce calling my name before I could try and dispel her worries. I waved at him, then looked back down at my cute little bookworm. “Go have Scarlet help you polish that off, and don’t let Jezal keep you up too late. If you need to, go ask Garm for help. He seems to be the

Jezal wrangler. I’ll be in after my watch.”

She grabbed my cloak before I could step away. “In our tent or in our bedroll?” she asked with pleading eyes.

I snorted. “Considering how tight my pants feel right now, I think I’ll decide when I’m done with my watch.” Leaving her guessing seemed like good enough recompense.

She pouted, then looked around again before rising up on her tiptoes again. I met her halfway for a quick peck, then headed off after Pierce.

Pierce had decided on a roving patrol around the outskirts of the camp, and I saw no reason to argue. Other than business, he hadn’t said a word to me since the duel. We’d made a full circle around the camp before he finally spoke, and his words caught me completely by surprise.

“Anyone ever told you that you fight like a Bellatian?” he asked.

I didn’t answer right away, and I knew that was a mistake the moment I looked him in the eye. I should have asked what a Bellatian was, but I could tell it was too late for that now. “I’ve heard it mentioned.” It was the only answer I could come up with that wouldn’t incriminate me more.

He grunted. “Strange thing is, that old fuck Grimsbane hunted them down near to a man. Way I heard, the last of them died in the war.”

Shit. How the fuck did Pierce know about Bellatians? He couldn’t have been more than twenty when the war went down. Granted, that would have put us at around the same age. Had he seen real action? “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

We’d been the Chosen’s party, so naturally the last of the Bellatians had fought beside us. In a losing battle against Grimsbane’s greatest general, they’d given their lives to save ours. They’d held back the tide of Grimsbane’s army long enough for us to put down General Ilthiard, but not before they’d been slaughtered to a man. I’d been close to one, and she’d trained me in all manner of weapons.

“I saw one in a tournament when I was a boy,” he continued. “The legends say they’re warriors of unmatchable skill. My grandfather used to tell me they were the defenders of humanity in the days before the System, but I always figured it was a load of crap. When I saw the way that Bellantian tore through his opponents with ease—seasoned fighters with over a hundred levels each—I changed my tune.”

“Sounds like a fairy tale. Either way, they’d have all died before I was born.”

“That’s true. Makes me wonder how the hell a kid like you knows how to fight like one.”

I didn’t believe his story about seeing one in a tourney. Or, rather, I did, but I had a sneaking suspicion that hadn’t been the only occasion he’d seen one. Just who the hell was Pierce? I shrugged. “I had some eccentric teachers, I guess.” Definitely not a lie.

Another grunt. “Tell me true, kid. What are you doing out here?”

“Just trying to survive.” I didn’t like how inquisitive Pierce had suddenly become. He was fishing for something, and I needed to figure out what before I ran into a trap. “Same as anyone else.”

“Maybe, maybe.” We walked in silence for a while. “Fel is a moron, but you’ve already pieced that together. Korey’s an old friend. The son of a shield brother that didn’t make it off the battlefield. Can I count on you to protect him when he inevitably fucks up?”

“I’m not going to stand by and watch people be killed.”

“Good. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to know exactly what you’re capable of. I give you my word that I won’t breathe a lick of it to anyone else.”

I snorted. “Sorry, Pierce. I very much doubt we’ll ever be enemies, but I’m not just going to tell you everything about me because of what little you’ve given me here.”

“I’m a level thirty Battlemaster and twenty-one Tactician. I’ve got skills for a wide variety of weapons with a focus on blades, and my allies get bonuses when following my orders. I’m also good at spotting weaknesses. Very good. Do you know what weakness I see when I examine you?” he asked.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“When you stumbled in on us in the woods that day? Not a damn thing. I could tell in an instant that magic wouldn’t be very effective, arrows less so, and getting in close would be a hell of a fight. Now? The only way to get a true advantage over you is by taking that Arelim of yours hostage.” He held a hand up when I glared at him. “Not my style, don’t worry. You’re lethal. The kind of lethal that doesn’t come from a happy upbringing. I can see that much in your eyes when you think nobody’s watching.”

I wondered if he could see it right now, too. “You’re right about that, at least.”

He inclined his head. “And yet, it’s clear you care for others more than yourself.” He shrugged. “Seems a good basket to toss a few eggs in.”

I looked at him for a long while. “I’m good at fighting groups,” I said finally. “But most of my strength lies outside my skills. I’m observant and paranoid as hell, and I don’t take chances when it comes to the people I care about.”

He laughed humorlessly. “You’ve made your point. Non-combat skills?”

“I’m a decent tracker, good at moving around unnoticed, and I’ve seen my fair share of shit.”

“Is that so? I’ve got warts older than you.”

“Believe me or don’t. You asked.”

That answer seemed to please him. “You mentioned your servants aren’t combat trained, but the Seraphim girl moves with a dangerous gait.”

“I just took her in yesterday. Giving her time to recover from her last master before I worry about seeing what she’s capable of.”

“Fair enough. If things go south, are you more sword or more shield?”

We’d made it nearly a quarter around again before deciding on my answer. “I’m whatever the situation needs. Sword, shield, or the dagger that slips through your ribs in the dark of night.”

For the first time since I’d met him, Pierce smiled. “Good to know.”