He looked down at the scout’s crumpled form and again felt a foreboding. Sulian was up to something. Maybe if he headed into the city, he might be able to pick up some information in a local tavern. Buy a few rounds of alcohol, and humans lost complete control of their tongues. Pathetic, but convenient.
Grabbing the corpse by the legs, he began hauling it towards the cliff edge overlooking the sea. He wasn’t sure if, or when, another scout would come this way, but he wouldn’t risk leaving evidence. Unceremoniously kicking the body off, he watched it fall and disappear under the waves. The weight of the sword alone should keep the body out of sight.
Finally daring to wipe his arm across his face, Jaren pushed stray strands of his dark hair out of his eyes and turned back inland. Gods, it was going to be a long day. He still needed to make it to Eastshore by nightfall and he’d lost precious daylight already.
Chapter 3
VERA
Well it certainly hadn’t disappointed. The new guard had quickly and efficiently beaten every opponent who’d stepped forward. Vera had been utterly shocked. Matherin guards weren’t lazy, nor were they unskilled, so for him to best each one was honestly amazing.
She wanted to be impressed—okay, she was definitely impressed—but it was hard to respect him when he’d made a point to verbally bash every opponent afterward. Even the men he’d had to work hard to beat were not spared from his insults.
He didn’t curse, spit, or slander their mothers, but instead critiqued and belittled their skill, which was almost worse. The entire training yard was tense as a bowstring, and none of the men looked remotely happy anymore.
Vera couldn’t believe the nerve the newcomer had to disrespect the emperor’s guard so publicly. A guard he, himself, was a member of. She was technically an outsider, and even she was growing increasingly irritated.
“This is the might of our empire? If the capital were to fall under attack from the north, this is what we’d have as our defense? Is our guard made up of nothing but boys and feeble men?” He pierced the guards around him with an icy glare.
“I must admit, if this is the best skill we have, we either need recruits brought in from the east or perhaps…” he raised his sword and pointed it toward Elric. “Maybe we just need a new Weapon’s Master.”
She couldn’t make out his expression from under his mask, but she could hear the condescending tone behind his words, and she felt an overpowering rush of anger begin to build in her chest. How dare he. No one could replace Elric. It wasn’t just his skill with a blade, but his knowledge, love, and care for each sword he held. He trained them hard and deserved some fucking respect.
The Weapon’s Master in question didn’t say a word in his defense. He just continued to stand straight, quiet and unperturbed. Vera’s face heated, and her hands clenched so hard her arms shook.
“What? No more challengers?” He asked as he opened his arms wide and slowly turned in a circle, inspecting the men around him. “Well then, maybe I’ll just have to challenge the great Elric Lesta?”
She saw the men shift and a blanket sense of unease settled into their postures as he spoke. He was tearing them down and spitting insults at each turn, stomping on their morale. These men worked diligently. They came here day after day and gave it their all, and this man, whom she’d mentally named Arrogant Ass, thought them beneath him. She couldn’t understand why everyone was letting it get so far out of hand, and she was furious. Was no one going to say anything?
“How about it, Lesta—”
Before she knew what she was doing, she was double-checking her mask and grabbing a sparring sword. Within a few strides, she’d stepped forward into his line of sight and stopped him mid-sentence.
His eyes, which she could now tell were a pale blue, were all she could see above his mask as he took in her frame. Vera knew what he saw—a short, lanky man. He likely thought her no more than a lad. She smirked, knowing he couldn’t see it. Let him think her young and foolish.
He laughed loudly. “I said I needed a challenge, not a toothpick.” A few of the men surrounding them chuckled, eager to get on his good side, but the rest openly stared at her with furrowed brows, trying to place her. She didn’t care, her rage overshadowing her caution.
Vera said nothing. Movement in her peripheral caught her eye, and she watched as Elric stepped to the front of their audience. His anger was so evident she figured she could see it steaming off his scalp if she looked hard enough. Refusing to acknowledge his presence further, she raised her blade and pointed it directly at the blue-eyed guard before dropping into her stance.
“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that.” Lifting his sword, he shifted his weight and mirrored her stance. “Let’s see how big they are.”
Bring it asshole.
Without waiting to see if she’d reply, the arrogant ass advanced. She knew he figured he’d take her by surprise, but she’d been closely watching each of his bouts. She expected his speed and was ready for him.
She caught the blade of his sword on hers and thrust it back toward his body with a strong block. His eyes widened just slightly, and he feigned pulling back before altering his tactic and lunging again.
Their swords hit over and over as they each altered defending and attacking. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been at it, but her stamina had yet to dampen, and she’d never felt more alive. Her anger had burned away into a rush of excitement at the pure bliss of a fight.
Arrogant Ass was incredibly skilled. He assumed his strength would be enough to push her back as if her arms would fold on themselves with the force of his hits. He wasn’t completely wrong; his strikes were powerful, and shock waves shot up both her arms each time they met. When that hadn’t worked, he began to focus more on speed. He truly was wicked fast.
But she was faster.
Vera grinned beneath her mask as she watched him lunge toward her again. She waited until the last possible second before deflecting his sword. Before he could regain his momentum, she launched forward at lightning speed.
She landed the flat of her sword hard against his arm before pivoting and kicking his legs out from under him. It was almost exactly what she’d done to Elric just that morning. As his back connected with the ground, she stood over him and pointed her weapon at his chest.
He lay there for a long moment, eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open. She waited for the snappy comment that was sure to come, a foul curse or some lame excuse for losing. But it never happened. She jumped slightly when he burst out laughing. It was a deep, baritone laugh that made her feel more than a little flustered.
“Lesta!” he hollered from the ground, “We’re going to need a few more toothpicks!”