Death Comes To All (Book 1) (11 page)

Finally
they came to an area where a narrow stream ran through. Small trees
sprouted sporadically along its banks, and the brush along the ground
was much thinner than what they had been walking through to get
there.

"This
is what we want to gather first," Malik told him, bending down
to pull a small, narrow leafed plant out of the ground, roots and
all. Tara must have known already what they had come for, as she had
already started picking the plant he indicated without looking to see
what Malik had said.

Roland
nodded and starting gathering the strange herbs. He could have been
certain that this was a plant he had seen before. It look
disturbingly similar to a plant his father had pointed out to him
once when he found it growing in his fields. The plant had leaves
that were extremely poisonous, he had been told. Still, he had been a
small child then.

This
must be something different.

A
light breeze in the air caused Roland to pause, sniffing. In the span
of two heartbeats he traced the smell back to the plants that his two
companions were picking. The smell was similar to basil, though
different in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

It
smells absolutely delicious!

"Do
you think there will be enough that I can add some to my dinner
tonight?" Roland asked finally, interested in testing the taste
of the fragrant weed.

"Not
if you want to reach the city," Malik answered in amusement.
"The leaves of this herb can be boiled down to a deadly poison.
Just eating them raw is likely to kill you. The roots, however, can
be used to help break fever, and is gentle enough that it can even be
used on infants, which few medications can claim. I'll sell the roots
to a healer in the city. As for the rest of the plant, I'll keep that
for myself. I don't often use poison, but on occasion it can be
useful. The poison I make from this takes several hours to take
affect and leaves little trace. When you want someone to appear to
have died naturally, it works well."

Roland
looked away and said nothing, grateful that he hadn't simply tasted
the plant before asking anything about it. The group continued
picking for another hour before moving on to a different plant, this
time one that Roland recognized as an herb generally used to flavor
poultry and fish. It wasn't something he had any interest in, but he
was certain that his companions would likely be using it that night.

After
several hours spent picking various plants, Malik decided they had
enough for trading in the city. They only needed enough to give the
appearance of herb traders, he said. They weren't actually trying to
make a living this way.

"Once
you’re finish with your evening workout, wash your clothing in
the stream," Malik ordered. "Both the uniform you are
wearing and your old clothing in your bag. Once we’re close to
the city you'll be changing back into your regular clothing. There
are sure to be Thanes in the city, and they have certain ways of
recognizing each other that you don't know about yet. It would take
too long to try and teach you. No one has seen your face in that
disguise, so we don't need to worry about someone recognizing you.

"In
fact, it might be better yet to change now. While a Thane guard on
the road is less likely to be questioned, there's always a chance
someone might stop you at the city gates. Once we’re in the
city we'll do a little shopping. Keep the sword until then. There are
enough mercenaries working as guards that you'll get through the
gates with me no matter what you're wearing."

"What
are your plans once we get into the city?" Roland asked. "I
mean, where am I supposed to go?"

"First
I'll need to see my client," Malik answered. "I’d
like you to come with me for that. I think that meeting my client
will go a long way in helping you understand what it is I do. I don’t
know if you’ve decided if you want to stay with us longer or
not, but I think that meeting the client might convince you to stay
with us. It’s up to you whether or not you want to meet the
client. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t
want to. If you don’t want to meet the client you can just go
with Tara to get us a room at the inn and we’ll square up the
following morning. Think about it for a bit and let me know what you
decide once we get to the city."

That
said Malik walked off, refusing to say another word. As usual his
companion kept his thoughts to himself, and would not reveal anything
more than what he wanted. Roland watched as Malik started gathering
wood for the night's fire, although sundown was still a long way off.
He pulled his clothes out of the bag and stripped down to his
underclothes.

"Be
careful walking too close to the water," Tara advised, coming up
behind him so silently that he jumped slightly at her voice. He had
thought she had already gone off to fish. He quickly pulled his
clothing in front of him before realizing that his underclothing
still covered him decently enough.

Pretending
that she didn't notice his discomfort, she continued. "There are
occasionally alligators in the water, and other things almost as
dangerous. I caught a snapping turtle here once that was nearly three
feet across. While it wouldn't try to eat you or anything, it could
certainly take off a hand. That would end your chances of becoming an
accomplished swordsman pretty quickly."

"Thank
you," he answered, unable to think of any other reply. Though he
had never thought of himself as accomplished at anything, he had been
practicing every night.

Tara
never seems to pay much attention my nightly practices, but perhaps
she really has been watching all along.

The thought brought a smile to his face, which he tried
to suppress as quickly as it appeared.

"When
you're finished with your laundry, perhaps you can show me what
you've learned so far," she continued unexpectedly, ignoring his
stifled grin. "I can use a little practice myself. I promise not
to be too rough with you," she teased.

Roland
was taken aback with her banter. She had hardly spoken to him at all
during the month or so they had been traveling together, as if she
hadn't expected him to be around long enough to be worth getting to
know.

Has
something changed that I’m not unaware of?

He
finished the washing quickly, excited with the prospect of sparring
with the feral woman. So far he had only fought with the trees around
him. He had yet to try his skills against a live opponent. Not only
that, but he had known the woman for nearly a month and had yet to
see her pull out her weapon. Even if she only used a fraction of her
real skill, it would be interesting to see what she was capable of.

He
was almost disappointed when she came forward with two stout sticks.
He was rather hoping that he would get to spare with real blades. He
realized at once how foolish that thought really was. Even if he
didn't hurt himself with the sharp weapon, the combat could still
damage the blade. There wasn't much point nicking a blade in practice
when a stout stick would work just as well. He hefted the makeshift
weapon to gain its balance.

"OK,
show me what you've learned so far," she taunted, flashing him
one of her rare, toothy grins. When Drom had first joined them her
sharp, pointed teeth made him nervous, but he had gotten used to them
during their time on the road. Now he viewed them as a rather
attractive feature on his feral friend.

Taking
the initiative, he stepped into a hard swing to her left thigh, which
as expected she blocked with a downward swing. Twisting his body and
turning his wrist, he used the momentum of her block to propel his
blade back around in a shallow arc, firing a quick shot to the right
side of her head. She smiled and ducked under the swing, bringing her
branch up high into his stomach.

Oomph!
He doubled over as the air rushed out of his lungs. Thankfully, she
pulled back on the strike at the last second, so the attack only
knocked the wind out of him.

She
could easily have broken one or two of my ribs with that attack,
he
realized. H
ad it been a blade she surely would have gutted
me.

Once
again he saw the prudence in using the imitation weapons, though even
they could be dangerous.

"Your
speed was decent for a beginner. However, your footwork was off and
you telegraphed your attack pattern." Even while she was
scolding him she seemed to be enjoying herself. She strutted across
the other side of the small clearing they fought in, her tail
flicking behind her playfully. "Try something different. Assume
you are fighting a skilled opponent, which you are, and treat this as
a fight to the death. Treat every fight like that from now on.
Remember, it's not always the strongest fighter who wins. Try to
think of a way to defeat me."

He
faced her a second time, refusing to comment.

I
was treating the fight seriously,
he
thought silently
. He knew, however, that she had more
experience and skill with a blade than he did.

How
do I defeat someone who’s a lot better than I am?

She
stood across from him confidently, certain of her own ability. He
jumped forward, attacking the same way he had the first time. Once
again she blocked with a downward strike, and once again he turned to
fire an attack at the opposite side. He hoped that she would move the
same way, ducking underneath and going for his exposed midsection. He
planned on stepping back, using his greater reach to his advantage
and cut straight across, which would block her attack and counter at
the same time.

As
if sensing his plan, she changed her tactic. This time she didn’t
duck underneath the blow as she had, but instead stepped forward and
blocked directly, using her momentum to counter with a downward
strike.

He
saw the attack coming and rolled his wrist to bring the bottom edge
of his blade in front of him, blocking high. Instead of countering
with his blade, however, he threw a palm strike at chest level with
his other hand. For a brief second he was certain that his blow was
going to land. In fear he tried to pull the strike, but knew that
there wasn’t enough time.

No!

He
had just enough time to see her smile.

She
moved smoothly to her right, neatly dodging his strike, and countered
with a vicious vertical attack aimed at the top of his head. He
raised his sword quickly to block. He barely got his weapon up in
time. He clenched his muscles against the powerful blow he knew must
be coming.

The
blow he was expecting never came. In fact, her strike barely touched
his blocking blade at all. Instead, it slid down his weapon’s
edge and, like a striking snake, thrust directly at his heart.

His
mind screamed in panic.

Even
a wooden stick could kill me if she stabs me in the heart with it!
He felt something inside him change.

No,
this was not a change at all,
he realized. It had always been
there. It had been waiting, hidden behind a curtain, and now that
curtain lifted, allowing what was once inside to come out.

His
body moved quickly to the left, almost of its own accord, as if
instinctively. Tara’s imitation weapon passed harmlessly under
his sword arm, which he pulled across in a lightning fast strike
aimed at the side of her head.

With
amazing speed her sword arm came up above her head, her sword pointed
down in front of her body.

How
had she managed to get her sword back in front of her so quickly?

While
a part of him was asking this, however, another part of his mind, the
part that was once hidden and dormant, was controlling his body. The
slumbering dragon waking inside of him knew what to do.

Instead
of stepping back to regain his range advantage, which was what he had
been taught to do, he stepped forward, neatly pinning her weapon
between them while at the same time twisting his own weapon into an
arcing swing that wrapped around to the back of her head.

Stopping
just a fraction of an inch before the break in the wrist will keep
the attack from hitting her forcefully
, this new part of him said
into the void of his mind.

The
other part of him, the part of him he had been before, wondered how
he knew that.

Her
eyes opened wide in surprise.

She
must not have expected that move,
he thought.
I have her!

The
sudden elation he felt at the thought snapped the two pieces of his
mind back together like an elastic band. His attacking arm slowed a
fraction of a second, wavering ever so slightly, as his original self
gained control once more.

At
the last moment, just before he meant to pull the attack, he saw it.
The slight glint from her sharp, bright teeth as she smiled.

She
pushed herself harder against him, sliding down his body, melting
away from him like water cascading down a mountainside. Tara moved so
smoothly that it felt to him as if she moved in slow motion, yet it
was so fast he could do nothing against it. In one fluid movement she
dropped underneath his wrapping strike, twirling completely like a
spinning top.