The street was quiet enough for silence itself to go deaf. Two people stood facing each other, their swords raised in a threatening manner but neither one of them was moving. Both were frozen to their spots, their eyes strained on the other.
The one standing before the sun was like a turtle clad in a metal shell. Helmet hid his head, the visor pushed down so only the slits of his eyes were visible. In the shadow, their dark colour was indistinguishable.
Below the helmet, high shoulder guards spread to the sides, thick plates covering the arms and chest. Near the heart a symbol of a taloned foot engraved within a dancing flame rested. It was coloured in forest greens and bleached white, making a particularly unsettling combination. Quite accurate for the empire they represented.
Opposite the armadillo stood a teenage boy. He was clad in leather with a chainmail hauberk covering his chest area. The rings were polished to shining brightness.
Nothing was protecting the youth’s head. His hair blew in the lazy late morning wind. It was long enough to get into Grey’s face and the moment he shifted to throw the hair back from his eyes, Alec attacked.
He dashed forward with his blade extended, aiming for a side slash on an unprotected side. Grey caught it easily with the shield and used his right arm to stab forward. But the attack was clumsy, hitting the air to the right of Alec.
Iago wished to close his eyes but kept them focused on the battle. It was important to see every move, every minuscule motion. Any of them could determine the end of a duel long before damage was inflicted. Often enough a few exchanges of swords were enough to know the winner.
But this wasn’t the case. The two twisted and turned, trying to find their opponent’s weak side. Alec was always on the offensive. His sword lashed quick as a snake, batter at Grey’s defences. He barely manages to raise the shield in time while the sword was forgotten in his other hand. More than that, it was an inconvenience.
From his standing point, Iago could see the sword weighting him down. It was unbalancing the kid. The stabs he made were oft to the side, not even close to the target, and those few times it could have dealt damage, the blade bounced off the plate armour. You didn’t need to be a master duellist to know he wasn’t doing well.
Four steps. He’d moved four steps back and was about to take the fifth one. Iago had to move away to give him room and that grated at him. Was this how his student fared? To call it a disappointment wouldn’t even come close to the truth.
Alec thrust forward, then shifted his blade and managed to get under Grey’s guard. His sword reached the chainmail, then slid off the metal rings. Iago breathed a sigh of relief, at least the opponent was no better. If it was him, he would have slashed at the unprotected legs, disabled one of the hands or if he wanted to finish, he’d have stepped in and threatened with a slice to the neck for a quick victory.
It wouldn’t have lasted more than five seconds, and that was being generous.
While he thought that, Alec had managed another weird slash. In some unbelievable way he’d had cut one of the straps holding the shield to Grey’s hand. Was it possible that the belt just snapped? But he’d attached them himself, it shouldn’t have happened.
The bobbing shield was the last straw and Grey was starting to openly losing. The slashes reached his arms, slid off his chainmail. He wouldn’t last long like this. It was now or never if he was to do something.
“Drop the shield!” Iago shouted out to him. Grey didn’t even raise his head, blocking a stab aiming for his stomach. “Do it!”
The boy spared a glance his way, his eyes full of disappointment and shame, and suffered a slash to his right hand. It would leave a bruise but the blunted edge did not cut through the leathers. A small miracle.
“Drop it!” Iago ordered again in a louder, more commanding tone. He knew the boy’s fear. It went against all instincts to drop a shield in the middle of the fight but it had to be done. Another minute, and it would be over if they continued. Not in favour of Grey. “Now!” Iago roared.
Whether it was his command or the shock but Alec hesitated in his motions and Grey dropped the shield, taking the long sword double handed. His stance wasn’t perfect but not that bad considering he had practised it alone after having been shown only a couple times.
The fighters clashed their swords. Alec was older, stronger, his swing heavier and Grey faltered under his pressure. But instead of falling, he let the opponent’s sword slide down his blade and stepped forward with a backhanded attack. It was nullified by the plate armour but this was Grey’s first step forward in a while.
From there, the two moved away and returned to slashing and hacking. Metal rang as the swords clashed. Back and forth they went, dancing around each other, neither taking a huge advantage. Alec’s armour caught any stray swing that went past his guard while Grey suffered bruises through his leathers. If this continued, it wouldn’t last much longer. A noble attempt at victory but that’s it.
Iago wanted the real kind. He watched Alec’s movements, the way he often let a swing past to crash against his armour while he got a stab in, a cut there. Little by little he was chipping at Grey’s defences.
It was unfortunate but those deliberate openings could be exploited. Turned against Alec himself. Just how to inform his pupil about it? Being able to talk in minds would be of great use right about now. Yet that was one of the things that shaping couldn’t accomplish.
He waited, watching the soldiers swinging their swords. They hit again and again, and he saw it. “Grey, go for the heart! The straps!” The kid took a second to comprehend the words and Alec used that time to barrel into him full force. Grey barely managed to raise his sword for a block, then another and another. He was being forced to back away one more. Not a moment open for counter-attack.
At least not with Grey’s level of skill.
“Focus! You’re lighter, more agile! Use that!” Iago shouted out, knowing he was taking a risk. His voice was a distraction but it wasn’t much of a choice. If he didn’t do something, the kid was going to lose anyway.
But his hands were tied. All he had was his words. They might help, or they might bring the end closer. Either way, this would be over sooner.
Grey didn’t seem to have taken the advice. He fought back with a stalwart defence, taking no chances to move forward. Rather he blocked the swings, walking backwards with every other attack. Soon he would find himself with the tower’s wall to his back if this continued.
Two steps more and to Iago’s surprise Alec faltered. His front leg bent unexpectedly, throwing the man off-balance. He caught himself but the damage was done, Grey was upon him with the blade held before him in a steady two handed grip.
The blade slipped in where the shoulder guard was connected to the chest plate and tore it loose after cutting the leather straps holding them together. The metal hung, held tight on the other side and got in Alec’s way as he staggered back. The soldier leader tried to push it away but the plate bounced back, stealing his attention and Grey was past his guard once more. His sword flashed silver in the sun’s light and stopped to rest against the leather sheaved chest. Right in front of the heart that lay underneath.
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“Dead,” Grey rasped out. His sword hand shook as he use the other to brush his hair back, the strands slick with sweat.
For a time, no one said anything. They stared, not believing their eyes.
Then Iago started laughing. He walked to his pupil, chuckling as he patted the kid on the back. “That was a neat trick. You’ve got him good there.”
“Trick?” Alec asked, gasping for air, his sword hanging limp by his side.
Denni and Lyra rushed to the man, steadying him and starting to work on his armour. After some tugging and tearing they freed him from the suffocating thing. He took a liberating breath, throwing his helmet to the side. “What trick?” he asked again, narrowing his gaze on the panting Grey before him.
Iago pointed to the ground at Alec’s feet. There lay a small dip that could trip the unwary and in a fight, the soldier leader had no time to look at his footing. He was too focused at hitting his opponent as many times as he could, not giving him time to recuperate.
A mistake, of course. One had to always be aware of his surroundings but it was still commendable of Grey to have noticed the mistake and used it to his advantage. Maybe the kid wasn’t as talentless as Iago had first thought. A swordsman could still be made out of him.
The soldier cursed, then caught himself and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. You won Grey.”
“I did, didn’t I?” The boy smiled wide, dropping the sword to Iago’s disapproval and fist pumped in the air. “I’ve won! I defeated Alec!”
Malek with the other two boys were slow in coming to congratulate. “I don’t know if you’ve proved your point in the least.”
“What? But I’ve won!”
“With a trick!”
“Still, I’ve won! It was the condition!”
“But you didn’t show anything! Alec would have defeated you with ease had you not played him!”
The man in question winced at the way the kids put it but they weren’t paying attention to him any more. He was defeated and now it was their time to defend their honour.
“So what? Winning is winning! That’s what matters!”
“It’s a criminal’s way of thinking!” “Yeah, yeah!” Quir with Hugh echoed Malek with quick nods and serious expressions. The concentration on their faces was so fake, Alec wanted to laugh but kept the instinct down.
Grey pouted. “Not at all! Survival is what matters! And I won! I won!” he roared.
“Through a foul play,” muttered Malek, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Still won!”
The argument was growing sillier by the moment and Alec had had enough of it. He walked between the two parties. “Enough. His skills might not prove anything, we heard he’d not trained them as told, but we all saw the practise session. It’s obvious,” he inclined his head towards Iago,” the shaper knows what he’s talking about.”
“Maybe he’s just pretending. How can he know without using a sword himself?” Malek grumbled. But he uncrossed his arms, shifting his gaze from Grey to his teacher.
“Did it look to you like he was pretending?”
“Of course not,” Denni said, banging her sword’s pommel against the back of Malek’s head. Before Alec could tell her off, she sheathed the blade. “So, when is the practise starting? I wanna try it out!”
“In the evening?” Iago suggested, standing apart from the gathered soldiers. There was this invisible wall that he knew he couldn’t cross. Whispers of budding trust reached him but the flower was a fragile one. Any careless move could trample it to the ground.
It was important not to step over his boundaries until they believed in him unconditionally. There would come a time when they’ll step through fire for him but only if he gave them time. Trust and belief had to be given time to grow and only then cultivated. Not expected to bring fruit before its time.
The soldiers were satisfied with his chosen time, and they scattered to go and do whatever they did. Hugh walked towards the survivors’ house while the rest just left. Iago wondered what would be his next best move and decided to go to the temple. It’s been a while since he worked on its repairs and the people might start forgetting about his actions altogether.
That couldn’t be allowed and the physical work would be good for him. He was tired of using shaping, planning and scheming against himself. Fighting battles with opponents that didn’t deem him worthy of notice.
However, not everything that day went as planned. Nearing the evening, Commander caught Alec and told him to round up the soldiers. They were going hunting. In no way was he interested in that the night was only a few hours away and they could be ambushed with ease under the veil of darkness. Nor did he care that they were leaving the survivors alone against the possible threat of a leech.
Alec ground his teeth against the wrongness of it but bowed to Commander’s orders and went to find his soldiers. They grumbled, annoyed not to have their first training session but understood the necessity. Or more like were eager to go anywhere with Commander leading at the front. He was their idol after all.
The only one Alec couldn’t locate was Tyr, the kid had disappeared since the morning. He hadn’t come to watch the competition, spending time playing cards while waiting for the sun to set or could be found now that they needed to leave.
While looking for the kid, Alec noticed the shaper talking with Jistas and came over to tell the news. Iago weren’t overjoyed at the prospect, the corners of his eyes twitched upon hearing about Commander’s orders but he voiced no objection. Suggested they find him when they’re free and that’s it.
As if summoned by his nonchalance, Shea showed up with Tyr. The two were walking in close proximity, talking in low voices. Tyr said something and the girl burst out laughing, her golden hair bouncing around her shoulders. She was beautiful, smilng like that.
“Tyr!” he called, stopping the kid soldier in his tracks. The pair froze and turned to him with matching innocent expressions, like two weasels caught stealing chilcken. But what could have they been up to? It was impossible for it to be anything actually dangerous. “Get ready, we’re leaving in half an hour.”
“Leaving? Where?”
“Another hunt. Mistress is in need of more supplies.”
The kid nodded at that, turning to say goodbye to his companion but the girl wasn’t facing him. Her serious expression was focused on Iago. “You’re not coming to help?”
“You know it’s not my place. I need to conserve my energy,” the shaper answered. His voice was calm, not raising up to her challenge.
However, his composure seemed to annoy her even more. She shifted on her feet like a drunk readying for a barfight. “Conserve? What if they all die in the ruins? What would have been the point then? You’re not helping anyone by staying here and doing nothing! It’s choosing sides! Only those you deem worthy get your help!”
“Is that how you see it?” Iago asked with a raised eyebrow, raising a bucket to his lips and drinking a mouthful of water. He brushed off the remaining wetness with the back of his dirty tunic. Only then his eyes returned to the girl.
And she seemed so compared to the shaper. They couldn’t be much different in age, Alec himself probably matched Iago yet he always felt like an elder. His words were ever so calm, thoughful as if the knowledge of a lifetime rested on his shoulders. It didn’t feel like he was on par with them.
“If you feel the need, go with them yourself,” Iago suggested, unrolling his tunic’s sleeves back to normal. He shook them and with a farewell nod to Alec and the two brothers, Jistas and Evic, left the premise of the fallen temple.
Shea bridled at the shapers departure, pointing a threatening finger at his retreating back. “And I’ll do it! Watch me! I’ll protect these people from your plotting! Guess what, I know what you’re really up to!”
Her biting remarks didn’t elicit any response from the shaper. Alec watched for the slightest give away, a falter in a step, a slight turn back, bunching of shoulders but nothing. It was as if Iago hadn’t even heard the words aimed at him. Or they held no meaning to him. Shea could be shouting about the weather or cursing his mother, for all he cared.
It wasn’t natural.
Alec was certain something was wrong here. The shaper was hiding something, and hiding very well. Too well for it not to be suspicious. No one could walk away while being accused of something they hadn’t done.
Could they?
He hadn’t seen, at least. But there wasn’t time to worry. Commander had called for them and being late wouldn’t do. “Tyr, Shea, let’s go,” he told them and waved to follow him. They fell in step, arguing about something, their voices too quiet for him to overhear them.
Tempted, Alec slowed his step. What could the two be talking about? They had gotten awfully close these last few days without any obvious reason as to why. There didn’t seem to be anything that could be in common between them, Tyr being the son of a minor official and Shea coming from a sheltered village.
Yet the moment he fell back, the pair quieted as if someone had sewn their mouths shut. Neither said a word until they came to the meeting place.
Near the gates, Commander met them with the rest of the militia. Everyone was ready and they set out right away. Commander didn’t seem to care that Shea had joined them. Could the Mistress have told him about her disregard of her? Had to be it. Otherwise, why would he act so nonchalant around a shaper?
As always, hundreds of questions without any answers. Only guesses that raise even more questions. He pushed the stupid thoughts away and focused on the task at hand. They were returning to explore the rest of the houses they had seen the last time they were out.
The thought of passing rotting chopped up corpses made him queasy but it was inevitable. Maybe the Scavengers had returned for their dead? That would be a relief.