"Severed Shadows Part 7" by William Scott Lowe

Severed Shadows

Part 7

Meryl crossed swords with her two opponents, using feints and footwork to prevent them from surrounding her.  A shining steel shield strapped to her left arm took hit after hit, as the two heavily armored men tried to press her.  Her retaliations were vicious, swift and precise but their teamwork and skill kept her at bay.

Her focus was hanging by a thread as she struggled with frustration.  Frustration over Seandar and Captain Barclay.  She had reason to hold Seandar responsible but she had spun the facts to give Barclay every reason to show leniency.  Who was she kidding?  She had outright lied and the act left a sour taste in her mouth. Feint, lunge, block and circle, she kept the two in a line before her never giving more than one at a time the chance to strike.

His stubborn refusal to bend on proper procedure and abide by the laws of a country that barely knew Rocky Spring existed would likely lead to Seandar’s unjust execution.  Meryl had always thought of Barclay as her noble captain, a brave man serving justice and peace.  Now she could see that he held the written law above justice.  It left her little choice.  Parry, parry, stab high for distraction and straight kick to the knee.  Circle and retreat.  The training yard erupted with cheers and boos alike as the encircling militia soldiers exchanged coin.  The fight was one on one now.

Despite her hard work to even the odds, there was nothing sure about the outcome yet.  Her remaining opponent, Paiter, had been her most significant rival since she had begun her training under Barclay.  She had little formal training when she arrived in the village, but she had tenacity and will and her grandfather’s sword.  With Barclay’s guidance she had excelled to the top of the ranks.  Paiter never had liked that.  She ducked low to avoid a two-handed swipe of his flamberge that might have taken her head even with the blunt practice blade.  At least the first man had the honor to stay out of the fight even though she had pulled her kick so as not to break his knee.

In one smooth motion, Paiter turned the horizontal cut into an overhead chop, redirecting all the original force into a circular momentum that came crashing into Meryl’s shield hard enough to knock her to the ground.  Before she could rise Paiter kicked her shield.  She rolled with the blow, pushing hard off her heels to help gain space.  A cocky smile spread on Paiter’s face.  Meryl couldn’t see it behind the visor of his sallet, but she knew it was there.  It was always there, but she was about to change that.

She rolled backward to her feet looking to charge straight in.  They both knew she needed to get close to take the advantage away from his much longer weapon.  As she quickly closed the gap, he cocked back his sword and swung with all his might as though he were chopping down a tree.  He planned on powering though shield and armor and she knew he would.  That’s why she stopped at the edge of his range, extending her shield forward to catch the blow full on.  It hit like an ogre’s hammer and helped send her pivoting on her heel, dancing forward again in the wake of his powerful swing and spinning like a top.  Her arms were horizontal, and her sword passed by his helm, making Paiter lean back out of its reach.  As his head naturally came back forward, her shield arm was following behind the back hand swipe, edge leading.  The steel shield met steel helm and another bell tone rang through the training yard.  She didn’t pull this strike.  Paiter crumpled to the dirt with the left side of his helm folded in on his temple.

Militia men and women cheered and booed.  Coins traded hands for the final time and Meryl resisted the urge to kick dirt in Paiter’s unconscious face.  The practice grounds were her refuge most days.  Combat was her means of finding peace, letting go her conscious thoughts and relying on instinct and training.  It was her only way to escape the kind of predicament she was now faced with, but today it had done little to relieve her stress.  It had left her with resolution though.

She was a fighter, and her cause was justice and peace and honor.  Protecting Rocky Spring had seemed to fulfill all those and she held the village dear.  But how dear would the village hold her when they learn what she now meant to do?  She may lose her rank or her place in the militia entirely.  She may never be welcome in Rocky Spring again.  The life she had built for the last three years was at stake.  But so was a young man’s life.

She wiped sweat from her brow and exchanged the blunted practice weapon for her own sharpened steel.  She had no authority to release Seandar, but by the gods she had no will to let him die.  It was time to fight for justice and honor, no matter who the enemy turned out to be.