Jaleigh Johnson - Unbroken Chain - The Darker Road

“You’re dead,” she said.

“So I am.” Cree sheathed his weapons and wiped the blood from his throat. He seemed disgusted with himself. Kaibeth, instead of gasping for breath, as she had been a moment ago, appeared barely winded from the fight.

It had been an act, all of it. Even her companions hadn’t seen it coming. Or had they? Maybe they had worked in tandem to create the illusion that the battle had turned. If so, Ashok had to admit he was impressed. The sellswords had obviously fought together for months or years to know one another so well.

“You would have beaten me, but you were too worried about your eye,” Kaibeth said.

Cree nodded. “I forgot all the other rules.” He held out a hand. “My thanks for the reminder.”

She clasped his hand and turned to Arveck. “Well?”

Arveck looked at Ashok. “Whenever the emissary is ready,” he said in a tone of mock formality.

Ashok wondered if Arveck’s ineptitude was all an act as well. He would find out soon enough. Ashok didn’t hesitate but whipped his chain out at Arveck’s head. The sellsword dodged the blow only by throwing himself backward. He lost his footing and went down on one knee in the snow.

“I’m ready,” Ashok said.

Arveck let out a furious cry and jumped to his feet. He lunged in with his scimitar. Ashok teleported back a step, then charged forward onto the blade and passed right through Arveck’s body. The sellsword spun around and half lunged again before he remembered that his blade couldn’t hurt Ashok.

“There’s no training in this,” Cree said. “Finish him, Ashok, and be done. He’s too hotheaded.”

“Agreed,” Kaibeth said. Arveck shot her a hateful glare, but the woman just laughed. “You’re not ready for this fight. Accept it, and you won’t be humiliated.”

Ashok felt his body start to take on substance. He timed the strike, counting the breaths as the shadows coalesced into flesh. He struck out with the chain underhand. When Arveck blocked, the spikes wrapped around his weapon and his sword arm, tangling his curved blade and burying the spikes in the back of his hand.

Arveck snarled and clawed at the spikes with his other hand. Ashok didn’t try to pull the chain taut. He just held the other end and watched Arveck struggle until he freed himself. In a blind fury, he charged Ashok.

Ashok readied his chain again, but Kaibeth stepped between them.

“Enough!” She absorbed Arveck’s charge against her body and shoved him back. “This is done for today. The sun will rise soon, and I’ll not have you riding unconscious, Arveck.”

But Arveck was too enraged to listen. He made as if to charge again when Skagi stepped forward and thumped him on the back with his falchion hilt. Arveck went down on his knees again, but this time he stayed there, panting. Slowly, reason seemed to return, and he nodded at Ashok.

“Your battle,” he said. “Enjoy the victory, whore of Tempus.”

Kaibeth helped Arveck to his feet, and without a word, the sellswords left the clearing.

When they were alone, Skagi sheathed his falchion and sighed loudly. “Everyone gets to play but me.”

“It was a humbling game,” Cree said. He touched the katar cut on his neck. “She was right about the eye. I wasn’t thinking of anything else.”

“We’ve all made that mistake,” Ashok said. “Fight as you’ve always done, with your speed and instincts, but don’t discount the success you had with the slower, sustained approach. Skagi and I will watch your blind side. We should have been doing it before.”

“We couldn’t keep up with him before,” Skagi muttered.

“That was a mistake too,” Ashok said. “Kaibeth’s warriors fought as one, even when they weren’t in the battle together. That’s what we need to become.”

Cree shook his head. “And you a chainfighter. I never thought I’d hear you say such things.”

“Neither did I,” Ashok admitted. “I have things to relearn, as well. I’ll teach my arm where to strike and keep the chain from stinging you two.”

“Good to hear,” Skagi said. “I don’t need any more scars on my pretty visage,” he said, his crooked lip warping in a smile.

“We had to relearn how to fight together, Brother,” Cree said, turning serious. “You remember that?”

His humor faded, and Skagi looked away into the trees. “You don’t have to remind me of it.”

“I was as much at fault. Skagi and I didn’t always fight as we do now,” Cree said to Ashok. “In fact, we used to hate each other more than any shadar-kai.”

Ashok couldn’t fathom it. He knew well the hatred that could exist between brothers, but he couldn’t imagine such emotions between Skagi and Cree.

“We were born to two of Ikemmu’s Sworn,” Skagi said tersely. “That’s what caused it, but the hatred’s forgotten.” He redrew his falchion and toyed with the end of Ashok’s chain. “Damn you, will someone fight me now? You promised me a sparring match, and I’ll get one.”

Ashok glanced at Cree and brought his chain up, holding it in both hands. Cree drew his katars. “Will the both of us be enough for you, Brother?” Cree said.

Skagi snorted. “If not, I’ll go and fetch Arveck.”

They shared a laugh but never let their guards down. One thing Ashok had always respected about Skagi and Cree was that they appreciated the deadly natures of the sparring matches. There was room for competition and jests, but a single lapse in judgment or control could result in death. Therein lay the challenge and the thrill-to beat the warriors who knew his skills so well and yet never yielded to the battle lust, to the need to kill.

Cree came at Skagi with his katars, deliberately leaving his left flank exposed. Ashok let his chain fly. The spikes struck the ground and kicked up lumps of wet snow. The move forced Skagi, who’d been trying to move in on Cree’s exposed flank, to retreat and get back on the defensive.

“Is that why you want to become Uwan’s Sworn,” Ashok asked, “because your father and mother held the rank?”

“We never knew either of them,” Cree said. He teleported behind Skagi, and Ashok, following his lead, teleported to the space he’d just vacated.

Skagi turned in a circle, swiping at their shadowy forms, forcing them to keep their distance so they couldn’t rush in and attack him when their forms solidified. “The woman who bore us wanted the pain, nothing else.” He shot his brother a warning look. “Close your mouth, and keep your mind on your blades.”

Cree ignored him. “Females have the power to bring forth life-new souls-while risking death,” he said. “I’ve heard there’s no experience like childbearing.”

Ashok remembered there had been women in his own enclave with similar desires. Some kept the children they birthed. Others passed them on to the fathers or to those in the enclave who wanted the experience of raising and training sons and daughters but for whatever reason could not conceive. No matter their parentage, shadar-kai children were often left to fend for themselves at a young age, when their parents grew tired of their roles and sought new experiences.

“As the children of two Sworn, we were assumed to have great potential,” Cree said. “Skagi was the elder. After he was born, several shadar-kai offered to buy him from our parents.”

Cree’s form solidified. Skagi came in hard and slapped his brother’s flank with the flat of his blade. “Enough!” He pointed at Ashok. “I told you this was forgotten. If all we’re going to do is flap our tongues, I’m finished here.”

Cree started to argue, but he fell silent when he saw the anger in his brother’s black eyes. Ashok said nothing. He gathered his chain and let Skagi lead the way back to camp.