Chapter Twenty-Five #2
Hardly anyone seemed to notice as we passed.
So engrossed in their daily tasks were the citizens of Ucharia that they barely gave us a passing glance, other than to mutter about how much of the street our horses were taking up as they slipped past. A few children waved at the horses, reaching out with smiles to brush their flanks.
The animals bristled every time but Roman held his well in hand and, on occasion, reached over to reign mine in as well.
I let him, still focused on simply remaining in the saddle as men and women passed so closely their arms brushed against my calves.
I could breathe easier once we were out of the city.
Having left the crowds behind us, both Roman and I and our horses were far less on edge as we trotted forward into the burning sands.
Ksenia appeared above us a moment later, Phantom swooping low once to inform us of their presence.
Then they led us onward, soaring high above our much slower horses.
Mostly, they remained within eyesight, Phantom slowing significantly and sometimes looping back around to give us time to catch up.
But, from time to time, they would fly far ahead, only to return a matter of minutes later, Ksenia giving a curt nod to Roman below before turning back to the lead.
I assumed she was scouting the way forward, ensuring there were no dangers ahead for two lone horsemen to come upon unprepared.
At that realization, I wondered for the first time what dangers might await us in the desert.
I'd been so preoccupied with worrying about what would occur when we finally made it to our destination and I saw Adrian again, I hadn’t even considered the danger of the journey.
The Geist and their squadrons roamed these sands as well, squadrons trained to kill Zver and their riders.
Ksenia and Phantom were our greatest defense but how would they fare against the Geist’s trained warriors?
And how would Roman and I possibly stand against them if our rider and her mount should fall?
I’d been trained, somewhat, in Pavos and a bit in Sanctuary but what of the Captain?
I knew nothing of his skill nor of what to expect of his method of fighting.
Finally, I realized just how exposed we were here, how meager our little party of three truly was. And that was just against the Geist. The Fallen were out here somewhere as well and I hadn’t the faintest clue what they were capable of.
“You’re rather young for a Captain,” I said then, glancing sideways at Roman and, more specifically, the long sword sheathed at his side.
“You’re rather ignorant for a Victor,” he replied gruffly.
I bristled but held my tongue.
“I’m assuming, because of your age, you must have won your position with skill rather than experience,” I continued, ignoring the barb in an effort to continue my interrogation of the man beside me. “So you must be quite a formidable warrior.”
“Worried about who’s going to save your ass once we find the girl?” Roman asked, a corner of his mouth lifting into a cruel grin.
I frowned, clenching my fists on the reins to keep my composure.
“More concerned about what happens if we’re ambushed in the desert on our way,” I muttered through gritted teeth.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Roman answered easily. “Ksenia and Phantom will have likely torn them to shreds before we even reach the fight and, if not, well, I’ve never had any trouble with your precious squadrons before.”
He patted the blade at his side and my gaze snapped to it.
I couldn’t help but wonder how many lives he'd taken with it already. The man was hardly into his twenties and yet, somehow, that confident swagger of his already seemed well-earned rather than the arrogant bluster of the recruits I'd heard back in Pavos. I could see the evidence of those hard-won battles on the Captain’s face. A scar running from his left temple to directly under the same eye, a burn mark on his wrist that ran up under his sleeve farther than I could see, a chunk of flesh missing just beneath his chin. So perhaps he meant it when he said we had nothing to worry about. Still, there were only three of us, four if you counted the Zver and, if Adrian was as important to the Geist as the humans seemed to believe, I didn’t like our odds.
So that night, when we found a cool place to rest in the shade of a rocky outcropping halfway through a valley we'd begun to traverse around midday, I asked the Captain to spar. He raised a brow in challenge even as Ksenia’s lips spread into a wide grin.
But I didn’t back down so he set his bowl of stew on a nearby rock and rose, drawing his blade as he tossed me my own.
I'd trained quite thoroughly in my limited time in Pavos with some of the best warriors in the city.
Valin was legendary and Castor, as his chosen second, harbored some fame of his own.
They'd both claimed I had the potential to make a good third.
And yet, Roman knocked me to the ground in two moves.
Ksenia barked out a laugh from where she sat, tossing scraps of meat from some desert creature she and Phantom had hunted earlier to her beast who snapped them out of the air easily.
I just rose to my feet, narrowed my gaze in new appreciation of my opponent, and beckoned him forward again.
It wasn’t like sparring with Valin or Castor.
Roman didn't offer me suggestions or bark out instructions as we moved. The Captain didn’t care if I improved.
He didn’t care if I learned from the fight or simply lost it.
He moved against me as a true opponent would, only pulling punches if they would have proved lethal.
I hissed every time he turned his blade at the last minute so that the flat of it met my flesh rather than the sharpened edge.
He grinned at every blow he landed, but I just raised my weapon once more and we began again.
I tried not to think about all the bruises I would have tomorrow, how difficult it would be to sit on a horse in so much pain, and focused instead on the Captain’s movements, on learning what I could of the human fighting style he employed.
He wasn’t graceful. His movements didn't flow into one another as Valin and Castor’s did.
Instead, they were short and choppy and less predictable as they didn't lead seamlessly from one to the other. He would cut left only to feint right and cut again in such quick succession the blow could hardly be avoided. It wasn’t pretty but, I had to admit, it was effective.
Besides, what use was grace when one was fighting for their lives?
“Who taught you how to stand?” Ksenia inquired from her spot curled up against Phantom.
Roman pulled back from plunging his sword into my chest at the last moment to stare down at my legs at the mention of my stance. I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“What’s wrong with it?” I snapped, irritated and sore from all the blows I'd already taken.
“You aren’t dancing, Dante,” Ksenia huffed, blowing a loose strand of dark hair from her eyes as she rose.
Phantom shifted slightly in her absence, snorting with displeasure at the sudden lack of her near him, but settled back a moment later and was snoring by the time she approached me.
“You don’t have to balance so much on your toes. ”
“It allows for quicker movement,” I argued.
“It makes you imbalanced,” she replied easily and, reaching out with one arm, pushed against my chest and sent me toppling backward.
A rare smirk curved against Roman’s lips as Ksenia crossed her arms and raised a brow.
“Anchor yourself,” she advised. “Plant your feet firmly on the ground. It helps against opponents who are bigger than you, stronger.”
I ran an appraising eye over Ksenia’s slight form and nodded. If anyone would know how to fight against a larger enemy, it would be the woman who stood barely over five feet tall.
So I restructured my stance according to her instruction. Roman waited patiently, glowering at us as Ksenia personally readjusted the positioning of my legs and feet against the sand below. Then she backed away, strolling back to Phantom, and watched as Roman and I went to blows once more.
He still landed every shot he took but I didn’t flail around as much as I had before. And, at the end of the match, he even gave a grunt that was the closest thing to approval I’d ever seen from Roman, before striding back to his sleeping roll and stretching out on the other side of Phantom.
I fell asleep under the stars that night, body sore and aching but feeling a sense of true, real accomplishment for something I'd chosen to accomplish myself, for the first time in a very long time.