Borne On Wings of Steel (33 page)

"Much too busy.” Rok rose to his feet and looked around. “You are of age, right?"

"Well, I'm twenty-two,” Kyle answered. “And Jaric is just a few months younger."

"Old enough!” Inaha laughed.

The four walked quickly among the crowds looking intently for a booth that featured a special mixture of alien barley and hops. They did not have to look long.

"Ah, yes. A dark ale of Meramee itself.” Inaha rubbed his hands excitedly.

They read the sign over the booth that featured rows of bottles of the dark liquid alternating with rows of clear, empty pint glasses. Two smiling Mejadic watched approvingly. The one with glowing red and yellow skin spoke first.

"Come and get a free sample before you buy.” He held out two small samples of the ale to Kyle and Jaric.

"We call it ‘Island Ale.’ It's as smooth as the ocean breeze.” The purple and blue striped Mejadic offered samples to Rok and Inaha.

One taste was all it took. The brown liquid filled their palate with a rich, smooth flavor. The after-taste was a fleeting hint of ripe barley subtly mixed with other exotic grains that disappeared just before you could fully experience its grandeur.

And of course, you had to take another drink.

Alien ale at its best.

"Four pints.” Inaha slapped the credits on the bar. “This round is on me."

The four picked up their glasses and took a long pull.

Kyle wiped his lips. He smiled as he held his glass up.

"Here, here!” they shouted together.

They quickly finished their glasses.

"This round is on me.” Rok handed his credits to the Mejadic bartenders.

"We must savor this glass,” Inaha advised with a gleam in his eye. “We must find a place in the shade where we can
alien watch
while we enjoy this glass!"

"All right!” Jaric agreed. His eyes gleamed with the subtle influence of inner euphoria.

"This is the life.” Kyle smiled widely as he felt the ale lift his own emotions.

They made their way carefully through the alien masses until they found four empty chairs. They plopped down with a carefree air and smiled and murmured greetings to the aliens who walked by. Most were either tasting some kind of small carry-out morsel or drinking an exotic alien beverage. Time seemed to stand still as the four conversed and refreshed themselves in the tropical shade surrounded by countless aliens meandering by.

And it was amazing to see all the different types and shapes, faces and colors each alien possessed. A minute wouldn't go by before one of them wasn't noticing some new alien face that seemed totally different from anything they had ever seen before. Each creature that passed by ran the gamut from exotic, to beautiful, to outrageous all the way to ‘get out of here, that can't be real.'

Finally, an alien walked by that none of them could identify, much less figure out what exactly it was! Its partially translucent body was covered by thousands of moving ... things. The alien, noting their glances, waved to them with a semi-transparent appendage which glistened with waves of tiny motion itself. Its three arms and legs gave it a naturally unnatural gait and added to the oddness of the two-meter tall creature. They tried to get a good look at its eyes ... but after a few minutes of keen observation, none of them could quite find them.

Or even be sure it had eyes.

"
Weirdest
alien I ever saw,” Kyle said, still staring after it.

The others nodded in agreement.

Life was good.

The ale had long been drained when new sounds became discernable above the constant murmuring all around them.

It was the sound of shouts and steel clanging upon steel.

"Swords?” Rok asked with interest.

"Could there be games as well as food and beer?” Inaha asked with sudden relish.

"They must have a license—the Mejadic do not permit weapons to be carried in the open,” Rok added.

Kyle and Jaric were on their feet in a flash.

"Let's go see,” Kyle said as he hurried forward.

A crowd formed a ring around two figures in an open area of sand. As the four drew near the clear sound of steel striking steel grew louder and faster, mixing with the increasing shouts from the onlookers.

The air became electric with each step.

A smile grew on Rok's face as he pushed his way to the front, followed by the others. They emerged to find two stout warriors silently circling each other—swords held expertly as each waited for the other to make a move.

"I've seen that race of alien before,” Kyle whispered to Rok as they watched the warriors intently.

"Yes,” Rok agreed. “I think back at RahajMr."

Kyle stared at the muscular, reptilian warrior who whipped his tail as he waited for the other to make his move.

"I think you're right..."

AT JUST THAT moment, Qirn swung his sword.

With a flash of steel, he waved his weapon with expert precision. He swung right even as he twisted his body and aimed a second blow from the other direction.

The other warrior, a barrel-chested alien clad in leather breeches, his body covered with short, thick hairs seemingly tipped with barbs, easily fended off the blows. He wore a deadly looking necklace of the same type of barbed hairs, longer than those on his body, which only added to his fierce appearance.

He swung his blade and fended off more of Qirn's strokes with the ease of practiced skill.

And then he attacked.

His strokes were quick and ferocious as he wielded his weapon.

Qirn found himself steadily retreating under the brutal assault. But each time he fended off the blows with loud grunts, his black eyes grew more intent as he observed his opponent's every move.

Suddenly, Qirn sidestepped, and the other alien advanced past him almost into the crowd.

The alien turned and found the blur of Qirn's sword coming for him.

Again there was a flurry of swords—blows and counter blows.

And then a single sword flew through the air. It fell back toward the middle of the clearing until its tip buried itself in the sandy soil.

Qirn held his blade to the other's face with a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

The crowed erupted with applause and cheers.

Qirn turned, still holding his sword, as he raised both his arms high above his head to accept their tribute. Small coins flew through the air and fell all around him as he bowed to them.

"A hand for the Traxan. Indeed, he fought well!” Qirn held his free hand out to the other.

The defeated alien bowed graciously.

More cheers erupted and the applause grew louder.

Qirn walked over to the sword standing upright in the ground and now raised both swords to the crowd as he turned in a complete circle facing the applause. As he finished his turn, he tossed the sword back to its owner, who caught it by the handle and gave a quick nod of thanks in return.

The Traxan raised the returned weapon in salute to Qirn before placing it back in its scabbard for the next opponent to use. He turned and made his way into the crowd.

Qirn took a deep breath.

"It is true, friends. Few there are who really know how wield a sword in battle. Yes, yes,” he said with a shake of his scaly head. “Many use it for parades and military pomp. And most know how to use it in salute.” Qirn brought the flat blade to his ruddy nose, held the blade exactly perpendicular to the ground and then made the blade sing through the air as he brought it crisply to his side in salute.

The Iraxx warrior paced around the edge of the crowd now, his eyes peering at the faces looking back at him. But he had already noticed the humans and the Kraaqi during the first applause.

Finally, they had come.

He had noticed the Kraaqi's empty sword scabbard that first time back at the planet of the Mrad. And he had guessed from the way the Kraaqi carried himself that he knew how to use it.

These last two days he had held these demonstrations, pretending he wanted to earn some extra credits by displaying his own expert skills.

But Qirn had another reason for these displays. And that reason had finally arrived.

"Is there another who would like to try their hand against my sword?” Qirn smiled widely, his steps now a swaggering, confident pace as he looked for another opponent. He drew closer to where the Kraaqi and the humans stood.

"I will make it worth your while! Winner take all this time! And I'll throw in the bag of gold coins I won from yesterday."

Cheers and raucous shouts rose to a crescendo, urging the next opponent forward.

But no one entered the clearing to take up the Iraxx's challenge.

"Hey, I think you can take him,” Kyle whispered to Rok. “He's too cocky. He can't be that good."

Rok chuckled under his breath as he stared evenly at the Iraxx.

"Maybe he is that good,” Rok said loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"What about you?” Qirn's eyes narrowed as he stopped directly before Rok. “You look like you
might
know how to use a blade."

"I don't normally wield it in sport, good sir,” Rok returned.

"Ah,” Qirn began with a smile. “But you wield it in practice, right?"

"True."

"Then, just consider this good practice with a reward.” He paused. “If you're good enough to earn the reward!"

Shouts and cheers erupted all around them.

"Give it a go,” Jaric urged Rok.

The crowd noise slowly abated into a tense silence as the two continued to stare at one another.

"How about me?"

Kyle stepped out from beside Rok and stood face to face with the Iraxx.

Qirn stifled a laugh as he walked around the human, looking him up and down as if he were carefully sizing him up. Kyle stood still, his eyes never leaving the Iraxx as he circled him.

"Can you wield a sword?” Qirn finally said.

Kyle answered evenly. “I have learned much from my Kraaqi friend—my mentor—these last months. I know how to a use a sword."

Qirn took the sword he first offered to Rok and now handed it to Kyle. The young human grasped it firmly by its leather handle.

"Watch him close, learn his weakness before you make your move,” Rok whispered.

Cheers went up again as Kyle turned and faced the Iraxx.

Qirn's smile widened. He held up his sword before his face, the flat side almost touching his nose, as Kyle returned the universal salute.

They each took a step towards the other and slapped the flat sides of their blades together in the honorary gesture that indicated that the contest was now begun in earnest.

Each immediately took a step back, their swords pointed at each other in battle stance.

Kyle's heart pounded with a raw surge of adrenaline.

With a confident smile, Qirn slowly circled the wary Kyle, who watched his slightest movement. With a flash, Qirn waved his sword toward the waiting human; Kyle responded in kind, and the clang of swords rang above the cheering crowd.

In the next minute, their swords clashed with urgent strokes as Kyle made his attack. Flashes of metal whipped through the air as Kyle pressed his opponent back step-by-step. But Qirn fended Kyle's every move with an air of confident ease. Still, he quickly found himself backed almost to the edge of ringed crowd.

Qirn held his ground then, fending off blow after blow from Kyle, who gave each stroke everything he had. This standoff continued until Qirn spoke even while he repulsed Kyle's next stroke.

"The Kraaqi has taught...” Qirn began with a loud grunt as he fended off an especially strong stroke from Kyle.

With a quick flurry of his sword, Qirn suddenly ripped Kyle's weapon from his grip and sent it flying into the air where it fell point first into the ground just as before.

Kyle eyed the Iraxx warrior with a mixture of amazement and respect.

Qirn caught his breath a moment as new applause swept through the onlookers. He walked over and raised Kyle's arm as together they stood before the crowd—with his other arm he held his sword aloft in victory.

"A hand for the human!” As they continued to face the crowd, Qirn spoke again to Kyle. “As I said, the Kraaqi warrior has taught you well. Keep learning.” Loosing his grip, he walked over and pulled the sword up and handed it handle-first to Kyle who accepted with a nod.

Qirn looked over to Rok expectantly and together they sized each other up.

As Kyle reached Rok's side he handed the sword to the Kraaqi.

Rok stepped forward without hesitation.

The cheers grew deafening.

"Now, we shall see what Kraaqi are made of,” Qirn said with a confident laugh to the crowds.

A flicker of a smile crossed Rok's face, but his only answer was the silent salute of his weapon that Qirn promptly returned.

Their blades slapped together and both waited expectantly.

They faced each other a full minute, neither making the first move. Each carefully eyed the other with a steady, serious gaze—looking for the first hint of movement.

Qirn laughed out loud again, causing another round of cheers.

"A true warrior fights me now! See how he waits for me to make the first move!” Qirn laughed.

The cheers erupted as they urged the battle to begin.

With a flash of metal, Qirn swung his weapon with expert skill.

Rok repulsed the Iraxx's first blow and then rebuffed a rapid-fire burst as Qirn tried to find the Kraaqi's weakness. But the silent Kraaqi methodically retreated, each time matching the Iraxx's blow.

Blade crossed blade again and again.

The crowd roared louder with each expert move made, first by Qirn, then by Rok. It was obvious that here was an even match. The skilled swordsmanship and courage of each warrior rang out with each crossed sword as Rok took the best Qirn threw at him.

Soon the crowd noticed that the Kraaqi had not launched his own attacks; he seemed content to defend himself—all the while carefully studying the Iraxx.

This went on for several more minutes until both warriors paused as they faced each other, each out of breath with their mighty efforts.

They held their swords forward as they fought for breath.