The Mirror's Truth (Manifest Delusions #2)

“Can you learn to piss off?”

“Uh. Sir?” She licked her lips, dark eyes glancing about the room as she noticed she was now the centre of attention. “I wish to apprentice with you,” she said, forcing the words out in a rush. Then she thought for a moment and added a quick, “Sir.”

Apprentice? Since when did Swordsmen take apprentices? Did this idiot think being a Swordsman was like joining any other trade? Welcome to my bakery! Today I’m baking a fresh batch of death! Wichtig grinned at the thought and the girl retreated a step. The kid was an idiot, but maybe Wichtig could make some use of her first. Maybe the moron had a few coins he could relieve her of.

“You can pay?” asked Wichtig.

“No, sir, I—”

“Then piss off.”

“I will care for your sword and armour, sir.” The lass blinked at Wichtig’s bed sheet, her mouth opening and closing. She soldiered on, looking increasingly unsure of herself. “Um…I…will care for your horse, sir. I will keep your camp. I will guard your back while you sleep. I will—”

“You’ll keep the damned fire going?” Wichtig hated how desperately hopeful and childishly scared he sounded.

“Big and bright,” said the girl, nodding so fast he thought her head would fall off. “I’ll cook your meals, wash your—”

“Done,” said Wichtig. “What’s your name?”

“Opferlamm, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir, reminds me of my father.”

Opferlamm nodded, apparently not trusting herself not to add a sir to whatever else came out of her mouth.

“You have a horse?” Wichtig asked.

“No.”

“We’ll get you one.” Wichtig thought for a moment. “Go to the stable and see if mine is there. It’s a cross-eyed sway-back tan mare. If it ignores the name Bl?d, it’s mine.”

Opferlamm opened and closed her mouth, nodded, and bolted for the door. She was back before Wichtig could swallow the crust of bread he’d been working about the remains of his teeth.

“It’s there,” said Opferlamm. “Tried to bite me.”

“Yep, that’s mine. Give me your sword.”

Opferlamm placed her sword reverently in Wichtig’s waiting half hand, doing her best not to stare at the missing fingers.

Wichtig scowled at the pitted blade and she made a frightened squeak, though whether from the face or his disappointment in the sword, he couldn’t tell. “This is the shittiest kitchen steel I have ever seen.”

“It was my grandfather’s,” said Opferlamm. “He died in the—”

“With a sword like this, no wonder he died.” Wichtig dropped the sword on the table and when Opferlamm reached to retrieve it added, “Leave it. We’ll get you something better.”

“You’ll buy me a horse and a sword?” Opferlamm did her best not to look sceptical and Wichtig ignored it, trying not to let it sting.

“Hells, no,” said Wichtig, pushing to his feet. “Follow.”

On the way out, he passed a young man with a sword laid out on the table before him. The youth refused to meet his eyes. There was something familiar about him, but Wichtig couldn’t figure out what. Had he given the lad the sword last night while drunk? Unsure, he let him be. He’d find what he wanted outside.

Leading the young Swordswoman into the street, Wichtig glanced about until he saw what he was looking for, a Swordsman leading a horse. Wichtig limped to intercept, Opferlamm following.

“You,” said Wichtig, waving his half hand. “You’re a Swordsman?”

Predictably the idiot puffed up, swelling his chest in an attempt to look big and scary. Swordsmen these days are such a disappointment. No finesse.

“I have killed—”

“Perfect,” interrupted Wichtig, lifting his sword in open challenge.

The Swordsman glanced around, confused. “Er…shouldn’t we gather a crowd first? No one is even paying attention.”

“I’m in a rush,” said Wichtig.

“What’s the point in killing you if no one sees it?” asked the Swordsman, genuinely dumbfounded. “I don’t even know who you are. You don’t look worth killing.”

“I’m Wichtig Lügner, the Greatest Swordsman in the World. I am definitely worth killing.”

The Swordsman paled and for the first time since returning to life Wichtig felt a little better. Now that was the right damned reaction to facing Wichtig Lügner.

“You killed a half-dozen Swordsman better than I last night,” said the man, moving his hand carefully away from his sword. “I don’t want to—”

“Fine.”

Wichtig stepped in and killed him with a thrust to his heart. It was perfect. Steel didn’t so much as touch bone. Withdrawing the blade, he waited patiently as the man blinked stupidly at the neat hole in his chest, said, “Hey,” and crumpled to the street.

“Take his sword,” Wichtig said. “And get his money purse. We’re broke.”

Opferlamm nodded and dropped to her knees to search the corpse. “Is this right?” she asked over her shoulder.

At least she obeyed before asking. “Are you questioning me?”

“No, sir!”

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