Kings Game

Chapter 4 - Murder (4)

Roran moved carefully, testing his opponent with gentle attacks. The bearded man had more experience and moved with fluid ease. He may have been a refugee like Roran, but he was comfortable throwing his sword around. Roran wondered how many times this man had entered the Crucible and walked away.

When the man moved to fight back, Roran was quick to back up, using his sword and shield to keep his opponent from getting too close.

"Playing defensively huh?" said the man, "Hoping I'll get tired? Or are you waiting for your friends to come back?"

Roran answered with his sword, moving to the offensive with a couple of strikes. The bearded man deflected them with ease. Roran persisted, pushing hard against his opponent and forcing him back.

"This isn't going to work out, kid," said the bearded man, planting his feet and preparing for a counter strike.

As they were coming together for another exchange of blows, a loud scream rang out behind them. The pitch was off but Roran recognized the voice. It was Toth.

Disengaging from the bearded man, and backpedaling to get some distance, Roran looked up and saw Sephyr running towards him. His old friend circled around and beside Roran, bringing his axes up.

"Be ready," he said.

A little ways away, Toth had dropped his broadsword and was clutching his shoulder, little sobs were working their way out of his throat. On the ground lay the man with the shaven head, his blood slowly seeping into dirt and gravel. Standing over them both was Gress, a knife in his hand and a grin on his face.

The bearded man swore, turned and ran; leaving his companion for dead. That would have been the smart move. Gress was a titled gladiator, even if Roran didn't know how skilled he was or how he had earned his title, he was still an experienced fighter. Fighting him would likely result in death. But Toth was injured and crying and, despite his stupidity and his spiteful mother, Toth had once been Roran's friend.

"Oh come now," said Gress, flicking the knife around in his hand, "it was just a little scratch. Why don't you pick up your sword and try again."

Toth reached for his sword but, as his hand neared the handle, Gress kicked it out of reach.

"Oops, try again."

As Toth stumbled towards his weapon, Gress lunged at him, slashing with his knife. The blade bit into Toth's other shoulder, cutting through it cleanly. Toth cried out and stumbled backwards falling onto his backside and trying to scoot away.

Moving quickly and quietly, Roran sprinted at Gress, his blade raised. Without Toth to give him away, Roran finally had the element of surprise. He closed the distance in seconds and brought his blade to bear. Gritting his teeth and scrunching his eyes shut, Roran struck out with his sword, slashing it into Gress's abdomen from behind.

The blade struck Gress, slicing open his shirt and then rebounding off. Roran stared dumbstruck as the impact jarred his hands and hurt his wrists. Gress turned on Roran, scowling. His shirt was cut open but otherwise he was little more than mildly inconvenienced.

"Attacking from behind isn't very sportsmanlike of you," said Gress.

Roran looked from his sword to the cut in Gress's shirt. He'd made contact. He had, without a doubt, struck Gress full on.

"Cat got your tongue?" asked Gress, amused. His knife danced around his fingertips. "Were you not expecting a little bit of armor?"

Roran raised his buckler and stumbled back, waiting for the inevitable attack. In the distance, Kell was still busy with Duran. She wouldn't be of any help.

Gress began stalking towards Roran. He produced another knife in his spare hand, the small blade flashing as he twirled it around his fingers.

"What are you afraid of?" asked Gress, "I just have a few knives. You're the one with a sword. This should be an easy fight for you. Come on, I'll even give you another chance to cut me." Gress spread his arms wide, offering his chest and abdomen to Roran for a free strike.

Roran didn't move. Sephyr, however, did. He lunged at Gress from behind, bringing his ax down hard on Gress's spine. Like before, the ax tore through Gress's shirt then rebounded, the impact jarring Sephyr's wrist and the weapon falling from his numb hand.

Gress whirled on Sephyr, sweeping his legs out with a savage kick. As Sephyr fell, Gress stabbed one of his knives through Sephyr's arm, the blade puncturing all the way through. Sephyr bit down on a scream and started rolling the moment he hit the dirt, fighting to get some distance between him and Gress.

"Oh, you're a smart one," said Gress. "I like you."

Slowly, he began stalking towards Sephyr, completely ignoring Roran now. The man was entirely without fear. As his title suggested, he was unkillable.

Up close, Gress didn't look like much. He was tall and scrawny, with curly hair and stubble on his chin. His loose shirt moved about him, the large gashes revealing toned muscles beneath. Briefly, in the tears of the shirt, Roran was able to make out markings etched into Gress's skin, like tattoos but vibrant and alive.

As Gress moved towards Sephyr, stalking him like a cat toying with a mouse, Roran rushed him from behind. He didn't bother with a sneak attack this time. Roran sprinted with all his might and swung his sword around, screaming the entire time.

Gress didn't appeared worried in the least. He glanced back at Roran, as though he were little more than an annoying fly buzzing about. It wasn't until he realized where Roran was aiming that Gress tried to defend himself.

Instead of aiming for his back or abdomen, Roran slashed at Gress's arm, aiming to slice it off at the elbow. Gress pivoted, tucking his arm against his body and trying to turn his back on Roran's blade. The edge of Roran's sword bit into Gress's arm, just an inch, before it hit his back and gave out.

The worn and battered blade shattered, exploding into steel fragments as it crashed into Gress's body. Small bits of steel flew back at Roran, cutting him and sticking into his arms. Roran stumbled backwards, the hilt of his broken sword falling to the ground.

Gress breathed a sigh of relief.