Page 38 of Bride of Mist
A few times, as he blocked one weapon, her other came round and did some damage. He earned two nicks on his arm and one on his chin from her short sword, and her pointed dagger jabbed through his gambeson once to pierce the skin of his chest.
But he was accustomed to minor injuries.
What he wasn’t accustomed to was receiving them from women.
“What is it…” he wondered aloud through his teeth, “…about Border lasses…” He finally used his long sword to knock the shorter one out of her grip, sending it skittering down the trail. “…and blades?”
No sooner had she lost her sword than she retrieved another curious weapon from her gambeson. One with a head like a trident.
The next time he slid his sword forward to block her dagger, she caught his blade between the forks of the strange weapon. The metals ground together, sparking as she diverted his sword. She probably could have snapped the steel between the tines. That was doubtless what the trident was made for. But that would have damaged her precious sword.
The longer she continued to spar with him, the more he realized that curing the lass of her wicked ways was a fruitless pursuit. She had a whole cache of weapons, and she obviously knew how to use them. Keeping one sword away from her wasn’t going to change anything.
“Fine, lass,” he said, withdrawing his weapon, stepping back, holding both arms up in peace. “Stop fightin’, and I’ll give ye back your blade.”
She was still poised to attack. “Give it to me now.”
“Put down your trident,Neptune,and I will.”
But she wasn’t about to surrender. She stabbed forward at him with the thing, and he narrowly missed having his lungs pierced. He threw up his arm at the last instant to deflect the blow.
“Lay down your weapons,” he warned.
“I can’t do that,” she bit out, circling him with the trident in one hand and the pointed dagger in the other.
“Aye, ye can. Put them down on the ground. I’ll lay your sword down next to them. We’ll make peace and say farewell.” He sighed in disappointment. “And ye can take your arsenal and go back to your life o’ crime.”
She shook her head. Her brows were lowered. Her mouth was grim. And the hostile storm brewing in her churning gray eyes told him the truth.
It wasn’t about her sword.
It had never been about her sword.
There was a darker purpose behind her violence.
The wee outlaw was playing a deadly game.
Why he was the focus of her rage, he didn’t know. Maybe she’d been hurt by men before. Maybe she despised them all.
But by the quiet fury in her murderous glare, she meant to do him great harm. Perhaps even kill him.
He had to stop her before she did something she’d regret.
Something irreversible.
Something that would haunt her—as he was haunted—for the rest of her life.
Feiyan saw the change in his eyes. The sudden realization that this was no mere battle over property, but a fight to the death.
Now she would have to redouble her efforts. Relinquish any thoughts of a merciful slaying and kill him in any way possible.
With an assassin’s cold focus, she circled him, watching for a wavering in his stare, a dip of his blade, anything that would reveal vulnerability in his defenses or an instant of weakness.
He showed none.
Anxious to be done, she made a jab for his heart with thebishou.
He turned sideways, pushing her arm aside with his left hand.
