Thumped

Between a Man and his God

Dashing to the side and weaving, Vale knew he had erred greatly by not heeding the secondary trail. He didn't pause, didn't look up. He knew if he stopped... No. He wouldn't stop. Feet and legs drawing power from taut muscle, he built speed, making his way toward the mouth of the alley. No. He wasn't ready for this. He could see people milling about, drawing water from the fountain a few steps away. How could they be so unconcerned? 

Stress built within him, tightening as the drawstring had on his father's bow. If he could just... But no. Ultimately he understood that escape was impossible. Giving up on the possibility of disappearing into the crowd, Vale sought the high ground leaping from wall to wall. He pulled himself up onto the roof knowing that if the circumstances were different, he would have heavily criticized his shoddy workmanship. 

Vale's eyes took in the landscape and immediately fastened onto what he'd feared. Standing stock still, cape billowing in a hint of a breeze, was his inquisition. His disputant, traducer, asperser... His other side. They stared, eyes locked in a trance, neither flinching or showing aggression. The wind tossed Vale's hair, leaves from the autumn shed tickled the roofing tiles between them. The air was heavy, tense, but somehow intimate as well. In the face of that stare, Vale felt all of his apprehension bleed into that air. Oozing from his very pores, the fear dissipated. He nodded, ready. The man opposite him inclined his head, also prepared for what was to come. 

Abruptly the engagement begun. Tiles shifted under the pivoting of feet. Breath so still mere moments ago quickly became short bursts as they hissed past pursed lips, accompanied by blows, jabs, stabs. Minutes passed. The dance of battle rapidly increased its pace. Vale thrust with a low kick that was countermanded by a stiffened shin. The man punched out, spanning the space between his body and Vale's, only to be redirected, his movement turned against him. Mastery was theirs, and it was cruel. Energy absorbed, diverted. Dodge, block, kick. Before either could tire, they drew apart. Each drew small daggers from hidden places, allowing for a natural progression, an evolution in the fight. 

Vale could see signs of wear on his opponent. Signs that mirrored his own. Glancing down at the fight zone, he was surprised to see that the tiles beneath them had been broken and shredded under the heat of their fight. The exposed roof made him feel guilt for the time and effort needed to fix the damage. He needed to relocate to a more appropriate field. Following his eyes and needing no prompting, the man jumped the twelve feet to the alleyway, swallowing the impact of the fall with a skillful roll. Vale followed, spreading his arms in a perfect swan dive attempting to make up for his poor ascent earlier. Tucking and wrapping his body as he met the ground, he was able to land unscathed. 

Turning to face each other once again, the combatants prepared to begin again. Seeking the upper hand, Vale rushed in slashing at his opponent's neck. The move was parried, the daggers chimed against each other, ringing like bells. Spinning, Vale attempted to stab upwards and the attack was clanged aside. His opponent smiled, strands of his yellow hair hanging down over his mouth. Lashing out with his weapon, aiming for Vale's femoral artery. Vale slammed down with his forearm, batting the lethal attack away. 

Vale came in, dagger streaking through the air, moving with such furious motion that the man had to step backwards. Continuing to move in reverse, the man almost tripped over one of the collapsed bodies Vale had incapacitated earlier. Stretching his gait so as to miss her body, the man danced away from Vale to a more apt fighting location. Vale strode forward, intentionally stepping on the chest of the unconscious man, breath wheezing from his lungs. 

Tucking his dagger into his belt, Vale decided to end the fight hand to hand. They came together in a flurry of motion, each fighting like a demon in the night. Grappling, spinning, twisting, whirling. Had a company of dancers been onlookers to the fight, they would have stood, mouths agape. The wind even seemed to be called to their revelry, twirling about their mad dance. When each could take no more, they fell panting to the cobbled alley floor, heedless of the stagnant piss water. Vale was exhausted, his breath coming in great gasps. He couldn't even spare a look for his opponent, but could determine from the puffing that he was in a similar state. 

"How many times now, and you couldn't beat me Vale." the man said, chuckling.

"Beat you? You couldn't beat me!" Vale retorted, smiling.

"Logical inconsistency, you're shift-drawing." the man interjected, referring to the act of switching the track for the drawing of water from a well. A common enough saying used when a person attempted to shift an argument back on another.

"You're right." Vale said, admitting his fault. "When are you're fine companions going to rouse? They've been out cataleptic for a long while."

"Soon, I suspect," the man replied, taking his feet gingerly, nursing many bruises from where he'd blocked Vale's strikes. Vale slowly rose as well, ambling over to a gap in the alley where he could see the entire scene. His mind worked, turning over the events of the past hour.

"Well, have at it then. Where are they?" the man said.

Vale closed his eyes, pondering. "Let me alone a moment, Lau." Ten seconds passed in silence before he moved over to where the fallen man was laying, seemingly unconscious. "I can hear your breathing from across the alleyway Durge, can you keep it down?"

The man rolled over, arms crossed over his manhood. "Did you have to go for the tenders Vale?"

Vale chortled, slapping the man's thigh before helping him into a sitting position. "My God demands my utmost fine sir. Your tenders were part of that equation. Also, you lost your bet. Stalemate." Durge groaned again, laying back onto the sullied ground.

"Do you need more time?" Lau asked, raising an eyebrow. But Vale didn't need more time. He sauntered to the corner of the alley, and swung up on a signpost he found bolted into the wall. Standing tall, he reached under the awning, grasping for - there! He pulled a sackcloth bag free and jangled it before Lau and Durge.

"And that's not all!" Vale said, spinning down to the ground with a flourish. "Before my next display, will someone wake up those two imbeciles? They didn't even make it past the first engagement this time." Lau shook his head, nudging each with his foot. Gradually they awakened and regained their minimal wits.

"He found the bag," Lau explained. The twins looked at each other.

"What about the other?" They said together, spilling out that which should have remained concealed. Vale smiled.

"Hiding things are we?" he said, closing his eyes once more. When they opened again, he departed, heading up to the roof once more. Going to the area where the trap had sprung, he rooted around, eventually pulling up another bag from under the pilot stone.

"How?" Lou asked expectantly.

"Quite logically, actually." Vale mused. "I wasn't far behind once I came to the trap considering the time it took you to set it. There was no good places on any of the roofs to hide the first bag, and with the hurry you were in, it only made sense to use the sign post as a natural ladder."

"And the second bag?" Lou asked.

Vale rolled his eyes, "You were up there for at least 10 minutes setting that trap. It doesn't take four people to do it. One of you would have found a place for the bag up there. Sorry Durge, you lost another one today."

"Actually..." Durge put in, "Not this time Vale. You missed one. And it was a pretty obvious one."

"No!" Vale exclaimed. "I was so careful!"

Lou laughed aloud, shifting his cloak aside to reveal a bag tied to his belt. "Surely you must have seen it while we were fighting."

Vale cringed. He had seen it. Why hadn't it registered?

The group laughed, all moving to pat Vale on the back consolingly. They moved to the street jovially. 

When they emerged from the alley onto the busy roadway, Vale stopped, turning to the group. "I'll see you back at the encampment. I need to deliver these back to the shopkeepers." 

"Hey now, you can celebrate a job well done with us before you give back the goods" Durge complained. "It won't hurt them to wait an hour more."

"My God's grace waits for no man," Vale replied stoically. Hoisting the bags over his shoulder, he walked off without another word. 

"You know better than to get between a man and his God, Durge." Lau scolded. "He'll find us when he's finished."