Evan Currie - Heirs of Empire

And one damn woman was giving him more trouble than the combined legions of the empire, the rest of the Cadre, and the emperor himself.

The one thing that gave him some hope, however, was that she’d slipped up.

Oh, she probably didn’t see it that way.

No Cadreman would fly the Scourwind colors unless a member of the family was on board. Even he’d not been willing to bend his honor to quite that level, and he’d personally assassinated Edvard Scourwind in the very room he now occupied.

It came from the old laws, a set of guidelines not enforced in generations, because there’d been no need. You didn’t break those laws, no matter what else you might do. Not once you’d sworn your oath, at least.

No, she had a member of the family on board her ship.

By revealing that, she’d cracked the surface of his control, but she’d also exposed herself and the heir to the empire’s gaze.

Corian had legions scouring the empire for them. They could not hide. He would bring that ship down, personally if need be, and use the heirs to fully legitimize his position.

Brennan threw himself to one side, narrowly avoiding the razor-sharp blade that swept through his previous position.

“Don’t dodge,” Mira yelled. “Block!”

“With this ?” he asked incredulously, holding up the stubby item in his hand.

The Armatis all had several forms, starting with the one that he was currently holding. Unfortunately for Brennan, that first form was referred to as the sheath. In the case of Kayle’s Bene—now his, he supposed—the sheath was little more than a foot long with a slight curve that he pocketed easily in his palm.

Good for common carry, yes, but not great for blocking an attack.

Mira was entirely unsympathetic.

“You’ve linked once. Do it again or I will cut you. Badly.”

She backed her promise with a lunge that neatly sliced his shirt as he again dodged out of the way, leaving a swash of fabric floating to the ground in his stead.

“Hey!” He scowled, clutching at the ruined fabric. “Do I look like I have a huge wardrobe? We escaped the palace with just the clothes on our backs!”

“Pfff!” Mira blew him off. “You’ll wear coveralls from my crew’s supplies, and you’ll like them.”

Lydia laughed outright from the perimeter of the circle Mira had drawn out. The idea of Brennan dressed in anything as close to a uniform as those garments struck her as hilarious.

“Oh, real funny, Lyd—Hey!” Brennan barely skirted a sweep that cleaved the air where he’d been, whistling with the force of the swing. “Come on, crazy lady! I wasn’t ready!”

“In a fight, that’s code for you’re dead.”

Brennan had had about as much of that as he was willing to take. He dropped the Armati to the ground with a clatter and turned his back on Mira.

“I’m done.”

Mira’s eyes narrowed, first at the blatant lack of respect for the Armati Bene he’d been holding and second for the similar lack of respect for herself. She lunged, only stopping the blade just before taking his head off. A trickle of blood ran down Brennan’s neck where the razor-fine edge of her Elan had sliced him. He just turned to look at her evenly.

“Are you?” she asked.

Mira seethed inside, though part of her was mildly impressed that he’d not flinched.

The boy has the Scourwind steel, no doubt of that, but he’s so antiauthority it sets my teeth on edge.

That, Mira couldn’t help but note, was saying something. She’d never been a yes woman herself, and having her own men turn on her and try their damnedest to kill her had pretty much soured her on the uniform as well. The boy in front of her, however, made her look like a cog in the machine. She settled back on her feet, sliding the blade along his neck and slicing just a bit deeper before withdrawing completely.

There was some satisfaction in seeing him wince—not very much at all, she told herself, but some just the same.

“Fine”—she shrugged casually—“but if I can’t cut you, I’m still going to draw real blood from someone today …”

Mira gave him a moment to consider her words and half turn in her direction before she grinned nastily at him, then twisted and lunged toward Lydia.

Lydia, who’d been watching with disappointment up to that point, was frozen in shock as the gleaming blade sliced the air, heading straight for her head. She flinched back, eyes slamming shut involuntarily, and a clash shook her to her soul.

She opened her eyes slowly, then snapped them wide as she saw Brennan standing between her and Mira with a staff in hand, holding back the Cadrewoman’s blade as fury poured off him.

Brennan angled his staff, letting Mira’s blade slide off it to the ground away from his sister, then reversed and swung for her head. Mira ducked easily under the swing and countered with a slash to his midsection that was caught by the other end of the staff before he snapped another blow at her ribs.

She laughed, dancing back out of reach.

“Do you hear that? The whispers in the back of your skull?” she asked, blocking another shot with the flat of her blade, then lashing out with a kick that sent Brennan toppling back to the ground in a slide. “Listen to them. They’re trying to save your life !”

He rolled out of the way as she leapt at him and landed with a potentially bone-crushing stomp where he had been. Brennan tucked the staff in close to his body, rolling for the edge of the circle, but Mira beat him to it, flipping easily over him and landing squarely on the other side. She swung her blade down, making him throw the staff up to block.

Sparks erupted across him as the weapons met, and he grunted under the force of the impact.

This crazy lady is trying to kill me!

Mira grinned down at him over the two crossed weapons. “Taking it seriously yet?”

Brennan grunted, kicking out at her legs from the ground. She avoided the kick easily, but it forced her to let up on the attack, and he used the time to kip up to his feet.

Brennan whirled the staff experimentally, getting a feel for the weight. He’d been trained on a staff, of course, as had Lydia, but somehow the one in his hand felt lighter and yet more solid than anything he’d previously held. It had substance to it that seemed to contrast how light the weapon felt in his hand, like there was a force pushing against him and steadying his hand.

He casually flipped the Armati around, then let the staff roll in his hand and come to rest along his back as he changed his stance and gestured with his free hand.

“All right,” he said, glaring at Mira, “let’s do this.”

Lydia watched, heart slowing to its normal pace, as her brother sparred with the Cadrewoman. Brennan had always been competent in the martial courses that were required of all of them, but Lydia could see that Mira’s skill was levels of magnitude beyond his. The woman danced around Brennan easily, somehow managing not to inflict any serious injury despite the number of cutting strokes she drove through his defenses.

“They’re really good.”

Lydia turned, just noticing Dusk slightly behind her to her right.

“Brennan doesn’t stand a chance,” she told the other girl simply. “He’s completely outmatched. She’s playing with him.”

“Really?”

Lydia nodded. “She’s Cadre, and Brennan never really did more than he had to in training. If it doesn’t have to do with flying, he’s a lazy bugger.”

Dusk looked out at the fight between the two, a clearly disbelieving look on her face. “I’ve never seen anyone move as fast as he did when she attacked you.”