Mr. Iblo's satchel slung across his shoulder, Boyko trotted through the morning forest trail. After leaving the abandoned farm at dawn, he'd split off from his wife and the publisher. While those two headed down the main highway to the prefecture border, he took their client's bag and its incendiary contents on to the back road. By splitting up, they could lure their ninja pursuer away and into a trap. Or so they hoped.

Holding the handbook made Boyko the bigger target, which he didn't mind much. He would rather fight off Nina the Silent Serpent than babysit Mr. Iblo. Less chance he might kill the middle management moron himself for being so stupid as to try to reveal the Nijikana's secrets.

Besides the steady clip-clop of his horse's hooves, the only sounds around him were the rustling of leaves and the occasional bending of branches. Exactly what he wanted to hear. Those noises meant Nina chose to follow him.

He led his horse into an open glen where light poured in between the trees. A beehive buzzed from one of them. After dismounting, he stretched a little then strode to the center of the clearing. A branch behind his head creaked with sudden weight. Paying it no mind, Boyko unsheathed his sword and, still getting a feel for the new weapon, gave it a few experimental swings.

The sword's maker had named it Oakstrong. Appropriate for the steel's saplike, amber coloration. Without gloves, only the strip of leather wrapped around the grip protected Boyko's hand from the rough-hewn hilt. The swordsmith left most of the bark from the branch he carved it from on for aesthetic reasons. Boyko didn't care much about aesthetics in weapons, only their functionality, but even he couldn't deny Oakstrong was a beautiful sword. It would be all the more so if it did all that had been promised at purchase.

"You can show yourself now. I know you're there," he said over his shoulder. "Why don't you come out so we can get this over with? I have what you want."

He held up the satchel and slowly spun in a circle, showing it off to all the trees. One of the branches snapped up and cloud of leaves puffed up a few paces away from him. A silhouette shimmered in the air, like sunbeams playing off a mirror, and Nina in her white half-cloak and dark blue ninja attire appeared before him, dagger drawn.

"I've always been envious of that trick," said Boyko. "Shinesilk, right? Your cloak's fabric is enchanted to deflect light for camouflage."

"You read that worm's purloined manuscript then?" she asked.

"No, just the only reason I can think of why an assassin would wear white."

Moving Mr. Iblo's satchel to his back, he took a fighting stance, Oakstrong at the ready in one hand.

"Shall we do this, then?"

"Not necessarily, warrior," said Nina. "I offer you one chance to surrender. Give me the Nijikana's property and I will go on my way. I'll even leave your thieving client alive. All my clan desires is our secrets back. What do you say?"

Boyko sighed. He planted his sword in the grass, twisting it indecisively, and said, "As much as I would like to agree, I can't. Unless that publishing piglet and this book make it to Lancaster unharmed, I won't be paid. You're a fellow mercenary. You understand."

To his surprise, she relaxed, closed her eyes and solemnly nodded. "I do. It is unfortunate nonetheless. Now I must kill you."

Pulling Oakstrong from the ground, Boyko readied himself. "Do you what you must, Miss Serpent. I'll do no less."

They bowed to each other, acknowledging and honoring the other as a worthy opponent and fellow warrior, then clashed. Nina leapt forward at him, but he met her attack with a high thrust.

Dodging right at the last second, Oakstrong tore through the ninja’s Shinesilk cloak and she lobbed a flurry of throwing knives at him. With a gasp, Boyko parried them, but the flying daggers were only a distraction. Nina took advantage of his drawn attention by jumping into the air and locking her legs around the sellsword's neck. Carefully maintaining her balance, she socked him about the head. Boyko staggered backward and fell on his rump. Nimbly withdrawing more knives, his Nijikana adversary prepared to plunge them into his throat.

"Shit!"

He threw up Oakstrong to block the blow and the blades made contact. A thundering clang erupted from the clash, impact rippling up Nina's left arm. Wincing in pain, she dropped her weapons and clutched her shoulder. Evidently the wound from Sanna's arrow the night before had yet to heal fully. She rolled backwards off her prey and both combatants resumed defensive stances.

"That sword..." said Nina, "What kind of sword is that?"

"The expensive kind. Cost me a mint, my Oakstrong. But enchanted weapons don't come cheap, do they?"

Giving a wry little smile, Boyko flashed her the flat of his blade. The rich ocher color glimmered in the sparkling sun.

"Its maker poured the sap of a thousand-year-old oak into the molten metal while he worked his enchantment, imbuing this sword with the rigidity and resilience of that ancient tree. Oakstrong is a one of a kind."

Nina tilted her head in admiration.

"Impressive, but we Nijikana have enchantments of our own."

She threw her shredded half-cloak over body with flair. True to its name, the Shinesilk caught the light and Nina's silhouette wavered for a moment before vanishing. Silence returned to her footsteps and Boyko lost any trance of her.

"Figured you use that trick again," he said.

Keeping Oakstrong on guard, the sellsword stepped carefully. His enemy's next attack could come from any direction, and he would never see it coming. He would need to trust his ears, or maybe his nose. He took an experimental sniff. Only the scent of drying leaves and dirt underfoot. Then came a whizzing whistle and a jabbing pain in his back.

Boyko grunted at the sudden injury. Checking, he found a throwing star jutting out under his ribs. It hadn't penetrated too deep, but still stung like alcohol in an open cut. As he delicately plucked the projectile out, another whizzed by, slicing the top of his hand. Reeling it back to staunch the bleeding, Boyko heard more spinning metal cut through the air. He jumped sideways to avoid the barrage, earning a few more cuts in the process, and hunkered down behind the nearby tree with the beehive, Oakstrong still clutched in his right.

Another few stars thunked into the trunk of his hiding spot.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Boyko just needed a minute to think, to plan his next move, but then came the sound of yet another star. He readied his enchanted blade to block the attack only for her projectile to zoom well over his head. At first, he wondered if Nina had missed him but soon learned she'd hit her target. Her shot cut loose the precarious beehive hanging above him and it crashed to the ground, splitting open in Boyko's lap.

He had time for a fast "Oh for the Templin's sake" before a swarm of angry, stinging insects assaulted him.

He stumbled out of his hiding spot, futily swatting at the bees, sword dangling from his hand. Savaged by the buzzing cloud, painful red welts swelled up across his body. Desperate for any remedy to his situation, he dove into a mud puddle in the shadow of two trees face first. The bugs and their hum dispersed, but Boyko swore he heard giggling in the branches overhead.

Getting to his feet, he gritted his teeth, and muttered under his breath, "Enough of your tricks. Time for one of mine!"

One hand on the pommel and the other on the hilt, he drove Oakstrong inches deep into the trunk of the nearest tree. Invisible in the canopy above, Nina stayed silent, curious what her opponent would do next. The sellsword held up two fingers and traced them down the blade's fuller, the way a calligrapher would drag a brush, lines of glowing green alighting in their wake. Oakstrong's enchantment activated.

The thick maple Boyko pierced seemed to shudder, leaves shaking and dragonfly wing seeds dropping. Its surface rippled and the tree's bark surged up the blade, liquid like, washing over him. The gelatinous mass of plant material, more sap than solid, settled on his form and hardened into armor. Withdrawing Oakstrong, he marched into the open copse, newly reinforced.

The wood covering was not nearly as snug as Boyko feared. He found his range of movement unimpaired, glad to find the enchantment was worth that much. Now to test the druidic magic's combat effectiveness.

A few more throwing knives thunked into his body. If not for the sound, he wouldn't have noticed them at all. Nina was testing his new armor, and he reasoned she must be running low on projectiles. He pointed Oakstrong at a random treetop and called out, "That trick won't work anymore. You'll need a new one if you want your treasure back."

Boyko patted Mr. Iblo's satchel beneath his layer of tree.

A bushel of leaves above him juddered, loosing some weaker blossoms, and he knew the ninja was on the move. But with her still invisible, her attack would still come unseen. His magic weapon couldn't do much if he couldn't find his enemy. But Boyko had an idea of how to see her coming.

Kneeling, he planted Oakstrong in the ground, and waited. Aside from his covering of maple matter, he made no attempt to defend himself. Sure enough, Nina pounced on the open target. She seemed to come from all sides, circling him like a tornado and peppering him with short but sharp dagger jabs, chipping away at his natural protection. The bark held though, and more. From the back of his wooden gauntlet, two tiny leaves sprouted. With his hand resting atop his sword, they swayed with motion of the ninja's attacks.

Boyko watched the petals intently, moving to and fro. They shifted like hands on an erratic clock, with no discernible pattern. But he didn't need to find a pattern. He only needed to be one step ahead of his opponent.

There!

He drew Oakstrong and thrust it blindly behind him.

"Urk!" went Nina, impaled on the golden blade. Her body fell limp and slunk to the dirt. Boyko sighed behind his bark faceguard. Mercenary he might be, but killing is never a thing to celebrate. Even when you're paid for it.

He turned to examine his fallen foe. Nina's white half-cloak was still draped over her frame. He bent down to shut her eyes. She deserved that much at least. But lifting the torn Shinesilk revealed not a dead ninja, but a log dressed in her clothes.

Before Boyko could react, a bolo cinched around his ankles and a thick rope dragged him into the air feet first. On the way up his chin knocked against the fake corpse, rattling his teeth. He was strung up from the tree like a duck in a butcher shop window.

Bending at the waist, bark armor creaking as he did, he tried severing the snare with Oakstrong. The sword's tip came inches close, but he couldn't get enough leverage for a proper swing. Defeated, Boyko let himself dangle.

"Sanna will get a laugh out of this one," he said.

"I certainly am."

Sniggering, the real Nina reappeared. She gave him a playful push as she gathered up her knives and throwing stars.

"You said you knew the Nijikana, sir. Then you should know one of our key tenets is misdirection. I admit, your blade's enchantment caught me off guard, but this is much how I expected our encounter to go."

He felt insulted by the comment. "So are you going to kill me now?"

"No need. Though just to make sure you don't follow after me..." She tossed a handful of caltrops on the grass around him. "Now I'll be taking my clan's property back."

Flipping her chisel-like dagger into a reverse grip, Nina plunged its tip into the back of Boyko's bark armor to pry his covering open. Peeling off his wooden cuirass, she cut the bag's strap and pulled out her prize. He could read the satisfied smile behind her mask.

It vanished when she discovered the satchel's true contents.

"What... What is this?"

All she found was the secondhand copy of A Long Night of Summer Passion from the abandoned barn. Now Boyko started laughing.

"Misdirection, remember? Now look who's forgotten the key tenet of the Silent Serpents. Your handbook was never in that bag."

Nina sneered at him. Tossing the cheesy romance novel into the mud, she held her dagger to his throat.

"If you never had our handbook, then where is it?"

"You were watching us. You tell me."

Venom pooled in the ninja's gaze, and she spit out the name, "Iblo."

"Better hurry," said Boyko, still upside down. "He and my wife must almost be at the border crossing by now."

In her frustration, Nina flashed her blade at his Adam’s apple, ready to plunge it into his artery. But her training soon resurfaced and she vanished once more. The wind she kicked up headed away from Boyko and toward her true target.

A smirk creased the sellsword's face. The first phase of their plan had gone off as planned, within reason. Sanna would handle Nina next. He had a different part to play. After he dealt with his current predicament.

"Huh, how do I get down from here?"

After struggling for longer than he cared to admit, Boyko fell into the patch of stinging caltrops and again wished he'd become a carpenter instead.