Of Blood and Duty

Chapter Eight • Dust and Blood

Happy Midsummer friends! It is Midsummer week in Sweden and that is the reason to why this chapter is shorter than usual! But fear not! I have two weeks vacation and plenty of time to write an extra chapter for you during my time off from work!

Anyhow, I hope you like this chapter!

-Lliam-

"Steel!" Hagan barked out when his patience ran dry within less than a handful of seconds. Throwing his left arm out and up into the air, he made a couple of round circular movements with it and walked about five steps away from his soon to be opponent. Seeming eager to use the steel he demanded for one thing, and one thing only; to draw first blood... or more than just first blood judging by the way he was acting.

What was that warning about? Lliam wondered to himself. Careful with those eyes of yours, stranger. Hagan's  voice echoed in his thoughts. What had he meant by that? 

Fully aware that getting out of this next "training session" was not an option, Lliam stayed on the ground for as much rest he could possibly get before it would start. Catching his breath for a moment while his back started to sing a song of misery louder than before as the initial shock of the impact had started to subside. The vertebrae he had landed on, after Mae had felled him, sang the very loudest.

He inhaled deeply, staring up into the sky whilst mentally preparing himself for what was to come next. How was he supposed to go again? And this time with a potential fatal outcome? He was still slower than he knew he needed to be. 

Feet scurried around him, causing dust from the dry ground to stir up into the air, coating the insides of this mouth and nose as he breathed. It filled his lungs to the state of him feeling the need to cough from irritation. From nowhere, someone ripped the wooden sword from his grasp and dropped a twin made of steel barely within his reach. Not speaking a single word to him in the process.

"Get up, stranger." Hagan barked somewhere outside of Lliam's line of sight. "You are not bleeding so get up!"

They fight dirty. He repeated what he had learned just minutes ago. I need to do the same. If Mae was prepared to break bones, then Hagan is willing to kill... My demise could easily be blamed on a mistake, a misstep or tragic accident if he wants to get rid of me. It is not as if there is anyone watching who cares enough to intervene if...

As he prepared himself, memorizing and trying to plan whatever he could before meeting Hagan, another cloud of dust floated above him as a last pair of feet, which were not supposed to be in the training area during the session, hurried past him. They had caused the new wave of dust.

The dust cloud interrupted his thoughts as it fell slowly around and on top of him. This time, he did not breathe it in. Instead, he closed his eyes and mouth and held his breath while making a note to himself that if he would become desperate enough... that dust of dry dirt would come in handy as a part of fighting dirty. To survive. He could use it to temporarily blind his opponent.

Desperate is the perfect description of throwing dry mud... A coward's way of not losing... He thought and buried the reluctance that lingered within from planning to use such gutless tactics deep inside of himself. There was no use in fighting with honor, or fair, if his opponents had no such plans. It would most likely lead to disadvantages and his possible demise.