“What have you here, Brakas?” the lean man asked.
“Found him along the river, Wyant,” Brakas responded. “Claims he was coming to join us.”
“How did he make it to the river?” frowned Wyant. “Why didn’t our sentries spot him?”
“He says he came across the badlands,” scraggly beard replied. “Klavin thinks he is a spy.”
“Klavin thinks you are a spy, Brakas,” sighed Wyant as he approached Rejji. “He thinks everyone is a spy.”
Wyant reached out and grasped Rejji biceps. He ran his hands down Rejji’s arms and twisted his wrists so he could inspect Rejji’s hands. Rejji was still wearing the fingerless gloves he was so fond of, and Wyant frowned.
“Remove the gloves,” Wyant ordered.
Rejji removed his gloves and stuck them in his belt. He offered his hands back to Wyant and the Zaldoni leader examined his palms.
“You appear muscular enough,” Wyant stated, “but I doubt you have the makings of a warrior. A good swordsman is more than just muscle. It takes coordination and intelligence and practice. Mostly practice. What is that scar on your hand?”
Rejji gazed at the discolored crescent centered in his right palm. “I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “I have always had it. Some kind of birthmark my grandfather said.”
“Well at least it is not from an act of stupidity then,” smiled Wyant. “You can put the gloves back on if you wish. Have you ever handled a sword?”
Rejji donned his gloves once more and looked up at the leader. “No, I haven’t,” answered Rejji. “Nobody in the village owned a sword.”
“Then what are you doing here pretending that you want to be a Zaldoni?” questioned Wyant.
“He said he wanted to avenge his village,” offered Brakas. “He said it was wiped out by the Jiadin.”
“Is this true about the village, Brakas?” Wyant asked.
“It is,” nodded Brakas. “One of my men recognized this boy as the one who spends his time on the beach. The village was destroyed several days ago.”
Wyant turned and paced the room for a few awkward moments as if something was troubling him. He came back and handed his sword, hilt first, to Rejji.
“Kill Brakas,” he said to Rejji.
Rejji stared at the sword and then at the man who gave it to him, but he didn’t move.
Brakas laughed and Wyant shot him a foul look. “I just spent an hour putting an edge on that sword, Brakas. I don’t like wasting my time.”
Turning to Rejji, Wyant shouted, “I said to kill Brakas. I don’t like repeating myself. Do it now.”
Nervousness coursed through Rejji’s body as he awkwardly held the sword. He looked at Brakas who was standing there casually laughing. He felt he was being tested or being made fun of, but he couldn’t figure out which. Rejji gripped the sword tightly and lunged at Brakas. Brakas swiftly dropped to one knee and brought his sword around in a flash. The flat of Brakas’ blade struck close to Rejji’s hand and the leader’s sword flew from Rejji’s grasp. Rejji tried following it with his eyes and saw Wyant grinning as he caught his sword and sheathed it.
“Finish it,” Wyant said to Brakas.
Rejji turned to see Brakas approaching, his sword carving large swaths through the air as he approached. Rejji started backing away from the bandit, but soon felt the bench behind him, leaving no room to retreat further. Rejji looked at the snarl on Brakas’s face as he approached and thought of the cruelness of surviving the attack on the village only to die days later because he made a foolish gamble with false bravado. His mind raced to find a way out of the attack, while his body stood frozen. Finally, in desperation, he pushed himself off the bench and threw himself at Brakas. He dove with arms before him and aimed for Brakas’ ankles. His hands stung with the pain of impact, but he managed to topple Brakas. Rejji quickly rolled to his feet and tried to make it out the lone door to the room.
Wyant stood blocking his way and shaking his head, all the while grinning at the boy. Rejji turned and saw Brakas regaining his feet. Rejji tore across the room to the bench on the far wall. Brakas was swearing now as he approached and Rejji was sure that this was no longer a test of any kind. With adrenalin pumping through his body, Rejji eased his foot back and tried to move the bench. He nodded to himself as the benched moved slightly, knowing that it was not nailed to the wall.
A quick glance towards Wyant showed that the leader was enjoying the display of fighting and had actually moved closer to Rejji as if to get a better view of the killing blow. Everything seemed to Rejji to be happening in slow motion as his mind raced through observations and options, although Rejji’s options were pretty slim.
As Brakas charged across the floor, fury evident on his face, he held his sword high and screamed at Rejji. Rejji cowered by stooping down and turning his back to the charging bandit. Even facing away from his attacker, Rejji’s mind could still see him charging and the boy trembled as he waited.
When Rejji decided the time had arrived, he picked up the bench and swiveled as he hurled it in the direction of the charging bandit. Brakas had actually been closer than Rejji had anticipated and the end of the bench sailed easily into the bandit’s head. Brakas went down backwards in a heap, his sword clattering to the floor.
Rejji scrambled across the floor and dove after the blade before Brakas could regain his feet. He scooped up the blade while still sliding across the floor and when his momentum slowed, Rejji leaped to his feet and ran back toward Brakas who was still sprawled on the floor.
He skidded to a halt and towered over the bandit’s body as he brought the sword up and prepared to strike. Rejji felt a sudden smack on the back of his head and his vision blurred. The room started spinning and Rejji felt like he was falling. Then Rejji’s world turned to darkness.
Chapter 4
Bandits
Rejji woke with a splitting headache. He reached for the back of his head to feel for blood, but could find none. The room was totally dark except for the small amount of moonlight coming through the vent hole in the roof, which allowed the smoke to escape. He tried to remember what had happened through the haze of his mind and slowly it came back to him. In his fight with Brakas, he neglected to remember about Wyant. He shuddered when he replayed the scene in his mind and realized he had been about to kill a man. He wondered what had gotten into him. Killing Brakas would not have gotten him free of the camp. He speculated whether this is how all men reacted in a fight for their life. Did reason and negotiation take leave when a man’s back was up against the wall? He hoped he never had another chance to find out.
Slowly Rejji rose off the floor and tried to scan the darkness for the presence of anyone else in the room. The moonlight was dim and he could not see very far, so he made his way to a wall and started walking around the room to check it out. When he reached the only door to the room, he silently tried to open it. It was locked. He completed an entire circuit of the room and ended back at the door. He was the only occupant. He looked up at the hole in the ceiling again, but realized there was no way to reach it. Even if he tried to build something out of the benches, it would fall far short of reaching the high ceiling. He had never been in a room where the ceiling was so far off the floor. At home he could easily touch the ceiling without jumping.