Steel And Flame (Book 1) (22 page)

The western man was aware he had been spotted. 
Ponderously he moved from behind his rock.  He regarded Marik for a moment
before deciding the smaller man was no serious threat.  His smiled broadened
while he drew closer.

Marik adjusted his footing.  He changing the angle of
his boot soles so he slid down the hillside atop the loose scree.  When he
reached his rock, he stepped onto the flat top and challenged the man.

“Come on then!  I’ve heard that tree trunks like you
sound pretty funny eating the dirt!”

“I was gonna go easy on ya’, but your mouth bought ya’
a full beating!”  The western giant slid down the hill in a much less
controlled manner than Marik’s glide.  “Yer the little bastard Beld popped!”

Ah, hells.  Why am I not surprised?
  “Friend of his, huh?  I could have guessed from the
reek!”

“Yer a funny little pest.  Try smellin’ this then!”

He swung wide, meaning to cut Marik in half.  Marik
was ready for the move, but blocking the blow almost shattered his ironwood
weapon and nearly forced him over the edge.
I can’t take any more of those!

Marik slashed out.  He hoped to keep his foe too busy
blocking his attacks to respond with a power blow.  After several strikes, it
seemed to be working and he laid on as much speed as he could while hoping the
time he bought would pay off.

It did.  Able to look uphill past the behemoth, he saw
what the western man could not.  Dietrik.  He raced downhill from directly
above with a speed that only comes from being out of control.  Speed was what
he wanted though, and he raced at the giant.

Marik stepped to the left just as Dietrik’s shoulder
collided with the man’s back.  He swung hard from the right in a horizontal slash. 
The big man reeled forward, stepping into the attack, receiving the unhindered
blow squarely across his stomach.  As great as the blow’s force was, the
forward momentum transferred from Dietrik was greater, causing the giant to
plunge over the side to the slope below.

He did not roll to the bottom as Marik had envisioned,
yet only because he grasped wildly at a clump of the course grass.  Violent
coughs echoed upward while he lay with his other hand clutching his midriff.

Marik found the man’s ironwood claymore on the
outcrop’s flat surface.  He lifted it when its former wielder raised his head
to look uphill.  After debating for a moment, Marik reared back, then hurled
the blade as far downhill as he could.  The giant turned his head to watch it land
in the scree, sliding away hilt first.  Both Marik and Dietrik glanced at each
other before raising their fists, hitting their knuckles against each other’s
as though they had known each other their whole lives.

“Well, aren’t we the bloody clever ones?” asked
Dietrik.  He rubbed his shoulder.  “That’s one blighter down, probably for good
too, but there’s still two others creeping around.”

Marik shook his head.  “Only one out here.  The other
one’s guarding their boulder.”

“How can you be certain about that?”

“Harlan, the only one of them that looks normal, is a
friend.  No matter what the others decided to do, he’d never leave the home
base undefended.”

“Is he good?  With a weapon I mean?”

“You know, the only time I’ve actually seen him fight
was yesterday.  But he’s shieldmates with my sword instructor, and I haven’t
ever defeated him yet.”

“Sounds bad.  So that leaves one for our friend Folsom
to handle and one for the two of us.”

They continued across the hillside.  Marik said, “I
don’t think that trick will work again.  At least not against Harlan.  He’s
likely to see us coming before we see him.”

“Stick together then?”

“That sounds like the best plan.”

The pair kept their eyes pealed for the other giant in
case they too had decided to both go high.  They encountered no one when they
drew within sight of their goal.  Marik and Dietrik sheltered behind a wide
outcropping and searched for Harlan.

“I don’t see anything.  Maybe your friend didn’t stay
behind after all, in which case we should hurry.  Our guard could be
outnumbered.”

“No, I can’t picture it.  But we can’t waste time
either.  How much time has passed?”

“Not sure.  One quarter is over, certainly.  Perhaps
half of the second?  Not much time left.”

“Okay, I’ll go forward and down to that rock.  Once
I’m there, you go down behind it, then forward to the next one closest.  Then
I’ll jump to the one past yours.  We can approach under some cover.  Okay?”

“Sounds fine to me.  If one of us finds your friend,
we’ll try and get his back to the other.  Maybe we can catch him off guard,
too.”

“I guess it’s worth a shot.  Be careful.  Here I go.”

Marik slid downhill for several feet using his gliding
trick.  He found it very useful on this terrain.  Once he came level with his
targeted outcrop, he banked his feet and crept forward.

He spent a precious moment scanning below for any
movement.  When all remained stationary, he waved to Dietrik.  The other man
imitated Marik’s glide, passing downhill behind Marik and flashing a thumbs-up
with his free hand.  Dietrik was an interesting fellow.  Marik found he liked
him.

Dietrik gave Marik the high sign from his own perch. 
Marik slid downhill.  The slope became steeper and he needed to steady himself
with his free hand against the ground while he passed Dietrik.  Only three
outcrops separated them from the red boulder.

Marik crept forward, reaching the wide outcropping he
had aimed for.  He paused at the far edge to poke his head around and scan
below.

“Hello, Marik.”

This from only a few feet away.  He whipped his head
to the side, finding Harlan leaning against the jutting stone.  The dour man
damn near smiled!  Then the ironwood sword he held flashed up.  Marik ducked
back barely in time to avoid a new chin cleft.

He raised the sword with his right hand as he frantically
waved Dietrik back with his left.  Marik hoped his companion had already
crouched low when Harlan came around the corner, somehow making his movements
uphill on the gravel and dirt surface seem effortless.

“I had a feeling I’d be seeing you on this end of the
field.”

“I’d be a pretty poor student if I hadn’t made it this
far.  Chatham would never let me hear the end of it.”

“Not that he ever stops talking anyway, but I’d as
soon not have to hear his diatribe either.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing for both of us I made
it.”

“Indeed.  Now, I’ve given you a few tips from time to
time.  Let’s see how well you learned them.”

*        *        *        *        *

“Well now, my silent yet robust acquaintance, I just
don’t know who to send my cheers o’ comradely support to!  This is a truly
funny prank worthy o’…well I suppose worth o’
me!
”

“I would not cheer for either, for to do so is to give
greater credit to one and denigrate the value of your friendship with other.”

“Oh, I see how it is through the wisdom o’ your eyes. 
Don’t burn your bridges, eh?  Good thing for me I’m not an ethical man! 
Come
on Marik, old son!  Show him who taught you a thing or two!”

*        *        *        *        *

If this was on level ground, I’d…well, probably I’d
still get the stuffing kicked out of me, so all things considered I guess I’m
not doing half bad!

The outcrop rose in a tall wall, lacking a top to
which Marik could leap.  His and Harlan’s footsteps were restricted to the V
shaped cleft formed where the rock protruded from the ground.  Since it
restricted direction solely to forward and back, perhaps that could be a boon. 
And maybe not
, he amended while his ankles howled in protest at the
awkward twists and odd weight distribution.

Harlan struck with a high feint and turned it into a
thrust.  Two strikes, one to his left arm and the other glancing off his ribs,
quickly put Marik on the defensive.  Though he watched every nuance of movement
in his opponent’s arms and shoulders, he barely managed to block Harlan’s
consecutive strikes.  Counterattacking?  Not unless Harlan twisted his own
ankle in this sharp cleft.

But as quick as the strikes came, Marik knew,
knew
,
Harlan held back.  It was as if Harlan was giving Marik the chance to defend
rather than laying him low quickly.  Or maybe he wanted to put on a show for
Janus and the Grand High Council of Officers With Nothing Better To Do.  If so,
Marik did not appreciate the gesture for its condescending tone.

Well, if that’s what he’s up to then he deserves to
lose for underestimating an opponent.
 
He started an organized retreat designed to bring them both from in front of
the rock and into the clear slopes.  Dietrik could not charge at Harlan where
they fought.  One wrong step meant running head first into the stone.

The dour man followed Marik’s back-stepping,
continuing to send strikes Marik hardly deflected.  Once they cleared the
stone, Marik readjusted his footing and tried his best to turn the blocks into
counterattacks.  Harlan flicked them away, unimpressed.

“I have to admit you are much better than when you
first joined us on the road.”

Marik concentrated too hard to respond.  The slightest
slip…

“Isn’t your friend going to come down and join us?”

Damn.

He backed away a step, lowering his blade to the guard
position.  Harlan received his glare with mild amusement.

“What, did you think I couldn’t hear the two of you
sending half the hillside falling down below?  As far as you’ve come, you still
have quite a way to go, youngling.”

“Dietrik!  Get down here and help me!”  He kept his
eyes on Harlan.

Nothing happened for a long moment, then as a head
emerged from around an edge of stone, “I thought we had a plan!”

“Scrapped!  Plan two!”

“I didn’t know we had a bloody plan two,” Dietrik
murmured as he left the shelter and held his own sword ready.  He scraped to a
stop several feet above Harlan.

“Okay Harlan, we’re both ready.”

“Fine.  I’ll let you lead then.”

Marik struck high, knowing Harlan would raise the
sword hilt to block with the part of the blade closest to the guard.  As he saw
Harlan do exactly that, Marik slid his own blade down until the two midpoints
crossed.  He pressed forward as much as he dared, placing greater weight on the
blade, trying the trap it in position so it could not defend against Dietrik.

Dietrik had slid further in an attempt to get behind
Harlan.  He suddenly faced Harlan’s blade when their foe pulled his sword away
from Marik’s, stepped back and pivoted so the two men stood on either side. 
Harlan struck Dietrik’s sword in a flash, then swung the blade around to
deflect Marik’s weak slash.

With opponents flanking him, Harlan slid backward down
the slope at a slow pace, disturbing none of the earth to the sides.  Annoyed,
Marik started after him, his own glide sending a fan of upset rock and dirt
cascading away.  Dietrik also followed their opponent while taking pains to
stay west of him.

They all stopped below in a large scrub grass patch. 
Despite his efforts, Marik had slid to the side.  Both he and Dietrik stood
west of Harlan, between him and his red boulder.  The thought of making a break
for it occurred to both men.  It was silently rejected.  If they tried that,
they both knew Harlan would cut them down from behind.

“Let’s rush at the same time,” Dietrik whispered. 
“I’ll go high, you go low.”

“Right.  It’s our best chance here.”

They charged as best they could with one leg extended
full length while the other bent sharply at the knee because of the slope’s
grade.  Harlan’s true speed appeared when he deflected both blades.  It cost
him though.  Their combined attack drove him a step backward.  Marik and
Dietrik pressed the assault, giving Harlan every attack they could summon.  He
met them with a furious storm of blocks and deflections, yet lost ground at the
same time.

“Almost there, mate!  As soon as he’s off the grass,
we have him!”

Then another voice rose over the field.  “Halt!  All
of you stop now!  Victory to the west!  East loses its base!”

“
Damn it!
” Marik swore with fury.  “Folsom must
have let the other one get him!”

Harlan lowered his blade.  “Not bad.  I think you two
have qualified, despite the loss.”

“That’s not the point, Harlan!”

“Face up to the world, Marik.  No one wins them all.” 
With that, he began to climb the hill.

“I think he’s right.  Cheer up.  We made a good
showing.”

“I know.”  Marik shook his head.  He forced his temper
into submission and offered his hand.  “At any rate, glad to meet you.”