The Reformation Wars: The Unmarked Swordsman

Chapter 9

Tom batted away a beastly Innutukian blade with his own weapon before kicking his opponent into the wall. Taking a guess at where the man's exposed armpits would be, he swung up. Judging by the scream and accompanying dribble of liquid, the young knight found himself fairly assured of accuracy. He took Alice's hand into his own again and hurried down the hallway. 

Tom came to a door which led outside, if his memory served him well. Praying his guess was correct, he twisted the knob. It refused to budge. Taking a step back, the knight kicked in the dark, his move rendered pure guesswork through the darkness. The wooden slab rattled at his assault, but still remained. His second and third kicks did no better. 

Finally, Tom huffed and charged shoulder-first at the stubborn door. A loud crack ensued, followed by the young knight tumbling through the shattered slab onto slick grass. He clutched his throbbing shoulder as he rolled, fighting back the uncharacteristic profanities attempting to push through his unwilling lips. 

When his tumbling came to an end, Tom shook his head to clear his vision. Then, attempting to ignore the persisting pain, he leapt to his feet and cast his gaze back at the splintered door. Alice ducked her head and stepped through the jagged hole, emerging from the pitch blackness beyond to the pale moonlight outside. With worried eyes, she hurried over to Tom and stood close. 

Tom sighed. "What now?" 

"I was about to ask the same." Alice replied. 

The knight ran a hand through his hair, eyes darting about and mind racing. He gasped when he spotted an Innutukian swordsman dashing his way from behind a nearby wall, but a quintet of arrows from above porcupined his advance to a deadly halt. Tom glanced up to identify the archers, who turned out to be Mintfeldian guards. 

Tom wrapped his fingers around Alice's smooth forearm. "We need to get out of here. Fast." 

She nodded eagerly. "Lead the way." 

He dashed onward with the blonde senator in tow, headed to where he could only hope the stables were located. His blade met several Innutukian weapons along the way, but their heavy, unrefined armor proved too much of an encumbrance for them to combat his deft speed and precision. 

The stables were now in sight. Tom hurried toward them, but after casting a quick glance leftward, he skidded to halt. In a nearby grove of trees, the moon shone through a circular parting of branches, almost as if the luminary wished to emphasize the spot to any onlookers. And sure enough, there stood Exuberance, ears twitching as he chomped on moist grass. 

Tom raised an eyebrow. Why didn't they put him in the stable like they said they would? He exchanged a glance with Alice, who seemed less confused and more frightened. With a shrug, he pulled her along to the steed. 

"Perhaps now would be a bad time to mention, I am unskilled in bareback riding." Alice remarked. 

Tom spared her a moment's glance. "All the more reason I shall be the one riding." 

"You're only taking your horse?" 

"Of course! You would fare even worse on your own mount." 

Alice shrugged. "Fair point—watch out!" 

By instinct, Tom ducked. A blade whizzed right above his head. He inadvertently held his breath as frantic eyes scanned over his attacker. Only barely did he succeed in parrying a return strike. The other swordsman dodged, allowing Tom to back up and examine his new opponent. 

Unlike the weighed-down Innutukian warriors he'd encountered so far, this new challenger appeared to wear no armor, a foolhardy move for most anybody untrained in the Monteraynian schools of swordsmanship. Instead, black robes concealed the person's entire figure, topped by a dark hood. A touch of moonlight trickled through a fold of the cowl, allowing Tom to observe that a charcoal mask lay underneath, further concealing the fighter's identity.