The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns (54 page)

Johnas I
I:IV

White Spider Throne Room, Valhirst
Underground

Vanessa Blackflame stared into the quiet chamber of the White Spider, at the silent men stalking in and out of the secret passages, and at the empty onyx throne. The marble warlock mirrors had been silent for several nights since Johnas, Balric, and the entourage to meet Salah-Cam in the south had left. Fadim had been taking the young red headed boy, Oggidan, under his wing as instructed by the Prince. Like she was a ghostly prisoner, eyes were always on Vanessa, but no one spoke to her. She sat in the throne room of the underground, alone, knowing she could not escape and even if she could there would be nowhere for her to hide where they could not find her. Not even the fortress of the king of Chazzrynn had kept her and the man who loved her safe for long.
She could feel Balric getting further away, days now since she had seen the man who was her only protector, her only care in this dark life she had been born into. The scars and burned flesh still had no feeling as her hand gently caressed over them. Vanessa had stopped screaming in the middle of the night and every time she gazed into a mirror, yet the pain of Gwenneth Lazlette’s lightning would be felt forever on her face and neck.

The young scarred wizard watched as the Altestani man tightened the steel gauntlet on young Oggidan’s hand, where a hand used to be anyway. Vanessa felt a bit more at ease with Fadim in charge of Valhirst while Johnas was away, yet she knew that all eyes were on her whether she saw them or not. There were no tantrums of opium and wine, no wanton killings of the homeless for sport, and she felt able to sleep without Johnas invading the bed and having his way with her every night. Despite her relief, she knew he would return and it would begin again, or the Prince would tire of her burned face and kill her like he had so many other women who turned again
st him or displeased him
. Vanessa hoped and prayed to herself that he did not return from the meeting with the trolls and ogre leaders in the west. Her head lowered into her hands, knowing that to pray for that would mean Balric’s death most likely as well. Futility and hopelessness set in once more on her emotionless face.

“Now remember, young one, that your parries do not have to be perfect with your right. The short blade is locked in the gauntlet and your arm is
protected up to the elbow. However, your off hand, your left that is, with the other short sword is where your feints will draw from, and those attacks must appear perfect. Understand?” Fadim stood up from the red headed boy with one hand an
d drew his
shamshiir
knife from his side. He readied the curved blade and his throwing knife to be used as a second weapon, crouched low on guard, and waited for the boy to begin.

“Master Fadim, what is a feint?” Oggidan readied himself in a similar stance, yet had a confused look in his eyes that needed answering before he charged the deadly dark skinned man.

The trusted assassin of the White Spid
er smiled. “Put up your blades
boy, and parry my attacks as best you can.”

“Yes sir.” Oggidan put his shortblades to guard, elbows in, grip at chest level, angled in. He stared at Fadim and his dark clothing contrasted by the gold and steel of his curved shamshir and the knife
in his left hand. Sweat trickled slowly down his temples and the back of his neck. The Altestani man stepped forward quickly and Oggidan backed up, white knuckling the short sword in his left hand. He saw the slash of steel from the curved blade of his teacher matched with a direct thrust of the knife toward his chest. The boy rasied his left blade to parry the closing shamshir and parried down with his steel gauntlet that had a blade affixed to it. His motions were quick, defensive and accurate
,
as were his steps and posture.
He had been practicing.

In a flash of blades faster than the untrained eye could gauge, the flat edge of the curved northern sword and the pommel of the knife hit Oggidan in the head twice. As the one handed redhead riposted his teacher, his arms were both nicked near the elbow, his attacks parried aside, and he was backpeddling rapidly. Two more lunging attacks came in from the older Altestani assassin, both parries went high to guard this time, and Oggidan hit the ground as the man’s fists
thudded into his chest and stomach. Unable to breath and barely able to see, the youth scrambled to stand back on guard, but was met with the curve of the shamshir at his throat. He looked up, teary eyed, angry and humiliated.

“You are dead, young Oggidan. I used two feints to throw you off. As I went for your head and chest, the very moment I saw you raise to parry, I changed directions on each attack. You thought I was cutting here,” Fadim pointed toward his chest. “when in reality, I hit you twice here at the last moment bef
ore our blades were to touch.” h
e pointed
the tip of his blade to the swel
ling lumps on the boys head.

“So a feint is like a lie?
You mean to do this, but you trick them and do something else?” Oggidan looked at his hand, the steel one with the blade fixed into it, then back up at his instructor.

“No. It is outsmarting your opponent. There is always someone younger, faster, better trained, or
who
has a better weapon. The ability to outthink your adversary comes in many forms, the deadliest is the feint. Only one who has been burned by it, or has not mastered it, would put its name to bad taste.”
Fadim helped the boy to his feet, nearly pulling his strapped on steel hand loose in the effort.

“And my arms?” Oggidan held his bleeding forearms, still ripe with the sting of sharp steel.

“Stop cuts. I saw your pathetic ripostes, and I moved with your motions and cut into your arms while protecting myself. Not much of an immediate effect, but after a few of them, or a few minutes of bleeding, I have the advantage.” Fadim smiled again and sheathed his sword and knife at his side.

“My stomach?” Oggidan looked angry and paced while he spoke, trying to figure out how to learn as quickly as possible to avoid any embarrassment in the future.

“Double feints. I knew you expected me to t
ake my low attacks and feint to
strike high again. So I did as you thought I would, then struck low once you went high. Very simple actually. In time, you will learn. I am no faster than you, Oggidan, just confidant, trained, and more experienced.” Fadim bowed to the young man that he had been asked to train by Prince Johnas Valhera.
He knew that the boy had lost his hand to Kendari, a wanted sellsword and mercenary. Also, that his family had been massacred by something while returning from trade in Valhirst. He felt pity for the boy.

“You can teach me all of that?”

“I will train you so if you wish, and I can teach you well enough to go get your revenge on the marked elf that took your hand. Kendari is his name? Yes, I will teach you
to take revenge as well, young Agarian.”

Having gotten his breath to steady once more, and a crowd of a dozen criminal members gathered to watch the young boy training with one of the Emerald Eight of the White Spider; Oggidan took a stance again. “Again then.”

“Enough for today young—“

“Master Crimson
of the
North of the Emerald Eight, one of the deadliest agents of the underworld, and he is too tired for me?” Oggidan looked around as low laughter and
oohs
and
ahhs
went around.

Fadim stopped
and looked at Vanessa sitting on the throne staring back at him. He was in charge while the Prince was away, yet he wondered if this scarred slave girl was reporting on his movements. He looked at the marble tablets she had next to her, then turned to the boy that had taunted him. He drew his weapons.
She was watching him, he knew it, had caught it. She played the part of victim well, but his senses in just that glance told him otherwise.

“Very well, young one.” Fadim dove into a forward roll that landed him a few feet from the boy. His shamshir cut high and was parried, his knife cut low and was parried. His arms dove forward with speed and precision, driving the boy to parry faster and faster. His feet moving with the offensive dance of his attacks, Fadim cornered the boy and went to slap the flat of the blade across his face. Oggidan went to parry high, then low, then feinted his parry back to high. Their blades stopped inches before Oggidans face.

Silence through the whole chamber came louder than any noise could have. The Altestani man stared his brown eyes intently into the blue eyes of the boy half his age.
He had parried perfectly and seen his feints coming, even used one of his own.
His fist struck out from the left, the pommel of the knife smashing the boy
’
s nose into an instant stream of blood from each nostril. Oggidan fell back into the wall then slumped to the floor, dropping his shortsword and holding his face.

“Satisfied? Now, today
’
s lesson is over
, and it was this
.
A swordsman
’
s best weapon is the feint, for it kills quicker than any set of flashing young stupidity or years of rigorous training. Remember that for next time Agarian
, and learn some respect
.
” Fadim could not believe how fast the one handed boy learned to watch for feints and feint his parries to lure him in where he wanted him. He turned and walked away. No one like
s
someone else in charge, no one in Chazzrynn liked the Altestani, and now they would see him as a vicious man who beats his students.
Perfect
, he thought. He would soon weed out those that might seek to step up the ladder while Johnas was away. Fadim smiled at Vanessa, who was still staring at him with even wider eyes now. “Let Johnas know that Oggidan is learning quickly, for an Agarian boy that is.”

“Is that an order, master Fadim?” Vanessa stared at him again, like she knew something that he did not want her to know.

His curved steel edge was at her throat in a flash, drawing a rapid silence from the room once more. “Your stares and disrespectful tones may amuse your bedmaster or your enslaved lover, but they do nothing for me woman. You would do yourself
a favor to remember that while J
ohnas is away.”

Her dark eyes stared into his, inches apart, and Vanessa did not flinch. She whispered softly.
“I can see it, Fadim, you would do yo
urself a favor here
and try harder. Kill me if you wish, I may welcome it with my recent failures and current position. But you, my northern spy, are as false as they come. Do you know why I stare at you so?”

He whispered back, just as soft with his quick and heavy accent. “
No, why don’t you enlighten me
,
slave.”

“
Because I once saw a look of kindness, hidden conscience, and deeper meaning in the eyes of Balric, long ago, that others could not see.”

“Your point?”

“
I knew from the moment I saw his eyes that he was here to stop Johnas.
You have that same look when I stare at you, no matter how you hide it from the others or the Prince, I see it. You may fool them, but I know you are here to bring the White Spider down and Johnas with it.
Be careful
.” s
he trembled now, realizing the conversation had gone on too long and the others had most likely noticed that his blade had lowered.

“You are mos
t incorrect, Miss Blackflame.” h
is eyes flinched, his blade raised back up as he thought to kill her here and now
,
just to be safe.

“
An agent of the White Spider, let alone one of the Emerald Eight, would have killed that boy without a second thought. You are dangerously close to giving yourself away here. In fact, you had better hit me or your hours are numbered I assure you. Just one favor.”

“
What is that?”

“Take me and Balric with you when you leave, victorious or not.”

Craackk
! Fadim’s hand slapped across her scarred and burned face, snapping her head to the side. He stared at her eyes that were now staring at the floor. “A woman should mind her tongue, especially when her master is away protecting his domain!”

“A thousand apologies Fadim.” h
er eyes were wet with tears, not so much for the slap she took on request, but for years of pain, molestation, and corruption she had endured in her life since Johnas had bought her. She watch
ed the Altestani man walk away into the passage leading past the pit and to the outside. The tablets glowed with arcane scripture. Vanessa
wiped the tears from her face, and sat down at the table to translate
what message was arriving from J
ade
of the
West in Devonmir. She did not care that all eyes were on her, just that a thread of hope, a seed of a chance was planted for her escape.
She needed to inform the patriarch of her latest findings.

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