Reborn (9 page)

This village was much different than anything he was used to. Absent were the sounds of daily businesses, of bakers shouting out their deals, or the rhythmic hammering of the blacksmith as he worked his miracles on shapeless steel. It all seemed so quiet here, the people hushed and reserved as well. Each person he passed made little to no eye contact, except for the occasional whispered accusation. Of course, these were never meant for his ears.

Off in the distance, he heard a ruckus that grabbed his attention. It sounded like a series of grunts and groans. Was someone being attacked? Jacob began to walk much faster toward the noise, a sense of urgency pressing him on, but he couldn’t help but notice that no one else seemed to share his alarm. He rounded a corner before cutting through an alley, then jumped a set of sacks obstructing his way. As the sounds grew in clarity, his steps slowed a bit, realizing this was probably not what he first thought.

The narrow path opened into a dirt clearing, where he finally saw the source of the commotion. At least one hundred soldiers, standing in separate rows of ten, danced about in unison. Jacob couldn’t help but smile at the skilled men while they moved together as a single unit. With each holding a bladed spear with a blue, feathered tassel on the end, they twirled and thrust in the air, grunting as commands were barked out by the stout man at the front.

A strong, thick man just past his middle years, the leader wore a black robe, whereas all the others were dressed in white. He wore an impossibly long black braid that hung down past his waist, and it looked to have some kind of shiny ornament attached to the end. The pierced holes in his earlobes were stretched wide by oversized studs, each plug with red feathers hanging from them. He seemed to wear a permanent scowl while barking out gibberish, each grunted command signaling the dance to change direction.

Jacob leaned against a thin tree and watched with admiration as the perfect lines moved with power and grace. The whooshing sounds of weapons cutting air, along with the soldiers’ primal grunts, made for quite an enjoyable show. He stood out plainly as he watched, grinning all the while with his arms crossed. More than one soldier noticed him watching, and it was apparently just enough to slightly disrupt their perfect form, a minor misstep that was only noticeable when compared to the razor’s edge of perfection.

The man in black abruptly stopped his organized shouts, then rushed over to one of the men. He grabbed the soldier by the collar and started shaking the poor man violently. “The slightest lapse in concentration could be the difference between living and dying. Don’t you understand that? Another bumbling move like that, and I’ll have you— What? Who?”

The man in white whispered to the leader frantically, pointing up to the hill. Before Jacob knew it, all eyes were suddenly focused on him. It was hard to tell with all the mumbled conversation, but he could have sworn the man in black said something along the lines of, “we’ll give him a warm welcome.”

The stout man walked over to Jacob, who just kept grinning as if this was all some sort of joke. He moved in so close, their noses almost touched. Jacob could feel the man’s hot breath pulsing on his face, but still refused to give up any space. “Is there something I can help you with?” the man in black growled. “I hear you’re one of those foreigners who showed up with that demon.”

“Are you referring to the demon who singlehandedly saved your village, last I checked? Is that the demon you are referring to?” Jacob turned his back to the man and continued to speak into the air, rolling his wrist in circles. “Because if you are indeed speaking of...that demon...I can only assume you wish to thank me and my friends.” He whirled around to face the man once more. “My friend, you’re too kind.” He flicked his eyebrows up and down. “We graciously accept your thanks.”

“Kelus is the lone reason that monster still draws breath,” the man dressed in black grumbled, holding his temper by only a thread. “That brute has killed more women and children than I can count; purged entire villages, leaving none alive. I hear he makes clothes from their skin after consuming their flesh. Now that fiend walks the streets freely, side by side with Kelus, as if his unspeakable crimes have all been forgiven. Perhaps our fearless leader now serves that demon, but I don’t. I’ll kill him myself the moment I get a chance.”

Jacob’s smile melted away like snow thrown on hot coal. His eyes narrowed with anger. “What the hell are you talking about?” he hissed. “I’ve known Eric since we were children. The man has never even told a lie, yet alone hurt a woman or child. Whoever you think he is, trust me, my friend, you are mistaken.”

“Oh, yes, so I suppose it must be another who steps through golden doorways floating in midair. Well, lucky for your friend, Kelus seems to believe exactly that.”

Jacob’s anger quickly turned into confusion.
There...there is another with Eric’s abilities? Impossible, this man is insane
.

“Never mind all that, perhaps you can help us settle a bet...friend.” The soldiers’ instructor threw a thick, heavy arm over Jacob’s shoulder, then led him back over to the men. He spread his arm out wide, with the other still wrapped around Jacob. “As all of you know, this young man is a companion of that demon,” he went on before Jacob could finish his protest, “and since he is such a good friend of that vile beast, it stands to reason that this boy’s power and skill must be similar. Isn’t that right, boy?” He squeezed Jacob’s shoulder firmly.

With a hard shrug, Jacob freed himself from the man’s grip and walked out in front of the group. He looked out at the men’s faces, each wearing varying expressions. Some seemed to be afraid of him, while others glared with pure hatred. Because of his own swelling anger, his voice rang out crisp and clear. “I don’t know what kind of hateful words falls from this man’s lips,” he looked back to the man in black, “but I assure you, they’re lies.” Grumblings began to vibrate through the group as they all nervously fingered their weapons. “This tyrant you speak of; this half-demon who kills just for pleasure, is a wielder of the black arts and a bringer of suffering, yet you somehow find the nerve to blame a man who only set foot on this land a few weeks ago for those crimes? A man of honor who I’ve proudly called ‘friend’ since childhood?”

“We saw his black magic with our own eyes,” yelled a man from the back row.

“You saw him save your village, fool!” Jacob quickly replied.

“Enough of your deceit,” replied the stocky leader. With a flicking hand gesture, the entire front row of men folded in around Jacob. The skilled soldiers each dropped down to one knee, spears pointed inward. In a blink, Jacob had been trapped within a deadly bladed circle. “Your tongue drips venom, poisonous lies meant to weaken our society, just so we lower our defenses. It seems you have fooled Kelus, which is the only reason I cannot kill you.” Yellowed teeth spread out wide in a wicked smile. “But that doesn’t mean the two of us can’t engage in a spirited sparring session.”

“You don’t want to do this,” pleaded Jacob as a thrown feathered spear bounced at his feet. He looked around as the men cheered, fists pumping in the air. “I swear I’m not your enemy. We didn’t come to these lands to harm any of you. We’re here to save you!” Nearly half the cheers suddenly changed to laughter.

The leader stepped into the circle, holding a spear. “In some way, this boy must represent the strength of our apparent savior.” The roaring laughter only intensified. “Well, it seems the standards of being a hero have lessened as of late. I never associated killing women and children with being a savior.” He slowly twirled the spear over his head in a single rotation before slamming the point deep into the ground. He drove his shin down as the blade snapped off in a spray of splinters. “Wouldn’t want to have an accident...would we, boy?” he whispered.

Jacob sighed as he ran his fingers through his spiky hair. “We’re here to save you,” he mumbled to himself.
First
Athel starts acting like she doesn’t even want me around anymore, now this
. He angrily snatched up the spear, then anchored the blade into the ground, tipping it at a slight angle. Stomping hard on its side a few times, the blade finally crackled off, leaving a jagged point. “Is this really what you want?” he yelled out to the men. “Blood for blood, is that it? If so, you are all no better than this tyrant you speak of.” The laughter quieted down a bit as a sudden uneasiness hung in the air.

He exploded into movement, his staff twirling about at a dizzying speed around his body, over his head, behind his back. The high-pitched whooshing of air being sliced rang out. As fast as it began, he stopped, dropping down low with the frayed point aimed at the other man, whose jaw now hung wide open. “If bloodshed is all that drives you, I pity you. If shallow revenge enacted on innocent people quenches your thirst, you’re hopeless!” Jacob’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Come...seek your revenge.”

The leader swallowed uneasily, but the temporary doubt was short-lived. So the boy could twirl a stick; the soldier had been training his whole life. Besides, this boy was loyal to that monster, and needed to be taught that some villages would fight back. The demon’s plan to purge town after town would not be achieved so easily. With a roar, he rushed in.

Jacob lunged forward, firing out three quick thrusts. The man parried each one at the last second, now even further surprised by the speed of this boy. Right after the flurry, Jacob shrunk back down like a coiled snake waiting to strike. The man circled him slowly, twirling his staff in wide, looping circles as he carefully studied the boy’s stance.

The soldier thrust downward with speed, but little force. When Jacob blocked the light strike, the soldier reversed direction and struck hard with the other end of his staff. The side shot rang out with a
crack
as Jacob easily blocked that as well, then fired out five thrusts of his own with viper-like speed. The soldier instinctively blocked the first but howled as fire shot through his head, neck and shoulder. He staggered back a few steps, but recovered quickly, holding his staff out defensively. He shook the ringing from his head and tried to refocus on Jacob, who was back in his low, snake-like crouch.

The soldier did his best to resist touching the lump swelling quickly on his temple. The hardened veteran had seen it all, but this... He hadn’t come across a boy, who couldn’t possibly be in his mid-twenties, working a staff like it was an extension of his own arm. It took at least a decade to become this fluid. Sure, the kid was a natural, but that didn’t matter. The soldier was a seasoned veteran and would find a way to overcome, as he always did. The first step was to stop playing into the boy’s strength. Clearly he was a counter-striker, so he had to try and remove that element, take him far out of his comfort zone.

Jacob stayed in his low crouch, his staff constantly rotating toward the soldier as he calmly circled, his own weapon moving in slow, looping revolutions. Again the veteran rushed in, unleashing a vicious flurry of strikes. Although moving like a tornado, again there was minimal force behind the blows. All the focus was on speed and making the boy work to deflect the barrage of strikes. The soldier whipped his head in a tight circle, then leaped back before Jacob could unleash one of his precise counter attacks.

Jacob suddenly grimaced, bringing the back of his hand up to his burning cheek. The warm trickle of blood running down his face now spotted his hand. He looked to the man with a stunned look, watching as he snapped his braided hair in the air like a whip. It was obvious what had happened now: a tiny blade woven into the leader’s hair was now dulled by a touch of red after having slashed Jacob’s face. Jacob growled in frustration but still held his low stance.

Again the soldier rushed him, but stopped just short of Jacob’s range. He whipped his hair in a circle toward Jacob, who flinched at the cracking sound, then instantly paid for the split-second hesitation with a hard shot to his shoulder. He growled again and leapt to his feet. The man’s plan had worked perfectly, as Jacob’s anger made him rush the soldier. The boy had been taken out of his game, simply due to the veteran’s frustrating tactic.

Jacob unleashed an eye-popping flurry of his own. High, middle, low—the lightning-quick strikes seemed to come from all directions at once. The startled soldier had to use every ounce of speed to block the vicious barrage. The cracking sounds of wood crashing against wood rang out in a song of violent harmony. The veteran quickly whipped his head in a circle while backing away, a desperate attempt to gain some space so he could mount some kind of offense. Jacob ducked the tiny blade easily and began to press even harder.

Wide-eyed and now purely defensive, the leader realized he had clearly underestimated this boy. His strong arms were quickly growing numb, working feverishly to fend off the inhuman flurry of strikes. He fell backward, holding his staff in front of his face, hands weak but still gripping the weapon as if his life depended on it.

Jacob gripped the end of his staff with two hands and brought it down like a hammer over and over again. The sturdy weapons began to fray and splinter under the savage impacts. All his technique and skill were long forgotten as an animalistic rage took full control. Not even the slight thoughts of defense, or worries of a counter strike, entered his mind as the reckless assault continued. The poor man just clung to his staff, each blow further decimating his quickly disappearing weapon.
I’m going to die
.

Jacob roared savagely as he brought the staff up high one last time, but the killing blow never fell, as he suddenly became empty-handed. The splintered staff now lay a few feet away with an arrow cleanly lodged through it. The arrow was black with yellow swirls, and had large red feathers at the rear of the shaft. Jacob turned slowly toward the general direction where it came from. His hard breathing was labored and raspy from the savage onslaught. His clothes and hair were soaked with sweat.