Journey to the stars and worlds of imagination: 2024 K : Kill or Be Killed

"K" is a difficult letter. Almost as much of a pain as "X." I admit that I usually don't enjoy killing characters. They have become too personal to me. However, that doesn't mean that the bad guys don't try. Or that the hero or heroine can't get emotionally invested in the fight. Or in other terms, instead of being killed, the characters take advantage of the fight to "school" their opponents.

From Fire and Redemption, an attempt to lure Karst into a duel, a conflict intended to result in his "accidental" death. Neither guy nor his master, Medraut, knew the training a dragon slayer underwent, nor the strength of the bonds of friendship.

Unlike her opponent’s draw of his blade, the zing of Deneas’ sword leaving its sheath rang out with a single peal. Flicks of her wrist moved the weapon through a series of double loops. The last rays of the setting sun sparked off the blade as she lifted it in salute. “Shall we begin?” she said softly.
Metal clanged on metal. The sound of fast and intense blows and equally violent counters echoed across the grass. Deneas blunted Gault’s attack and stepped back. Sweat streamed down the teamster’s face and chest, yet only light moisture dampened Deneas’ skin. As Gault shook his head to clear the liquid running into his eyes, Deneas waited for him to resume the fight.

On the next round, his thrusts slowed and reflected the clumsiness of exhaustion. Like a barn cat toying with its prey, Deneas lured the clansman back and forth across the space between the picket line and Nightbolt. Where her opponent’s moves were meant to cut and maim, Deneas used only the flat side of her blade to get her point across. With each stinging blow, the night grew quieter until the only sounds were Gault’s labored breathing and harsh grunts when Deneas’ sword connected in a “lesson.”

“Will you yield?” Deneas asked with a light tone. “And apologize to my friends?”
“No.” Gault forced the word out between clenched teeth. His sword waved in yet another attack.
Deneas’ weapon responded. The edge caught the man’s blade and rolled around it in a disarming move. The horses on the picket line shifted out of the way as the weapon flew into the grass.
A shove returned her sword into its scabbard. Although she knew the fight had not ended, Deneas turned her back on the unarmed man. Sometimes baiting can work both ways, she thought. The widening of Brial’s eyes heralded the ambush.
Deneas spun to face the enraged Gault who, arms outstretched, ran across the trampled grass. Deneas ducked beneath the swing. The hilt of her sword connected with her opponent’s chin with a solid thunk. Before Gault could hit the ground, she threw a second blow into his middle. His breath whooshed out in a single croak and he collapsed to the ground.

~till next time, Helen