Echoes of the Past

Chapter Eighteen - Part Two

Chapter Eighteen: Unsettled Business - Part Two

Clashing swords rang in the air as Audlin blocked Evan's attack. Sam ran for Evan but the three Mukk's came to him with their weapons swinging. Sam darted between them, twisting and striking against their attacks.

As combatants shifted and weapons collided, James faced the dark-skinned man. He held the knives in a backwards grip, allowing the rope attached on each end to unspool in front of him. A short crop of dark hair ran down his head and joined a thin, pointed beard that rounded his thin lips. His pocked-skin was wrinkled and cracked, though he did not look old.

James drew his sword, having to pull the front of his desert cloak under his arms to allow them to move more freely. He assumed a battle stance and gulped a breath.

Likely sensing James's apprehension, the man scoffed.

"You know how to use that thing?" He asked in a slow and menacing drawl. His foreign accent sounded very off-world.

The accusation offended James–a reaction that surprised even him–and a rush of determination spurred him on as he stepped forward. He would show him. He'd show them all.

A knife flew from the man's hand. It rotated back from the pull of the rope and he twisted and let loose the other knife, spinning them both around him. James stayed back, seeing no way past the flying knives. The fluid motions of the spiralling knives would have been impressive if they weren't the prelude to an impending attack.

The man flung an arm out and a knife flew forward. With a heartbeat to react, James jerked to the side and the knife flew passed him. It held in the air by his turned face as the rope became taught, before being snatched back towards the man.

Thinking that the man would be less lethal at close range, James closed the distance between them, raising his sword. A fire burned in him, wanting to show that he wasn't weak. That he could handle himself in a fight.

His blade swung through empty air as the man dodged to the side. James followed with a backhanded attack but the man moved in a blur and came to his other side. A knife sprung up, the tip just missing James's arm as he jumped back.

A wall of heat blasted over them, pausing their actions. Over the man's shoulder, James saw that Sam had knocked one of the Mukks down with a fist engulfed in flames. Sam swung his sword out at the other two Mukks, and in turn threw out his flaming hand in a combination of attacks. They blocked each attack with their staffs, but one of them missed a quick jab that followed a sword swing. Sam stumbled back to avoid the next attack, almost falling back on himself before he found his footing.

Sam fought well but he was slower than James had seen him move before. James would have to keep an eye on Sam, who was likely still a lot weaker than he was letting on.

Mousslo's yelped and whinnied from their stalls, stomping in agitation.

Away to the side, Evan and Audlin circled each other, their swords raised.

The dark-skinned man's feet shifted and his knives once again spun in an impressive display, the rope catching on his elbows as he spun and expertly worked the knives around him.

"This be quick work," he said to James. His voice was steady and calm, despite his actions.

James lunged and jabbed his sword forward. The man easily side-stepped and brought his knife up, catching James's forearm. James jumped back in shock as pain seared through his arm. The cut was shallow, no more than a thin red line across his arm, but it stung like hell. He cursed himself for attempting an attack that Sam had not taught him, and composed himself, though his sword grip was considerably weaker now.