Guardians of Magessa (The Birthright Chronicles Book 1) (6 page)

Cirro was in the middle of the field
swinging his sword in several defensive and offensive maneuvers. Josiah gripped
the hilt of his sword and pulled it out of the scabbard. The sound of metal on
metal jolted him completely awake. He held the weapon in a defensive position
and watched Cirro carefully.
The two combatants
circled each other slowly
, drawing closer with each step.
When they were finally within
striking distance,
Josiah struck without hesitation. Cirro jerked his sword down to block the blow
then snapped it up in a strike at Josiah. Josiah stepped back, letting the
sword whistle by in front of him, then he stepped up to attack.

The two friends continued to exchange
blows, using standard attacks and defenses they had been taught. They always
did this, remembering their lessons and warming up before the real fight. This
was the ultimate competition, coming as close to fighting to the death as
possible without actually hurting anyone. Not that it was likely that a fatal
injury would occur with the blunted practice weapons, but the heavy metal
blades could still do damage. Josiah had a nasty scar on the knuckles of his
right hand that attested to the fact.

After about fifteen minutes, the feel of
the fight changed. As if on unspoken consensus, the fight had begun in earnest.
Cirro led with a jab aimed at Josiah’s shoulder. Josiah moved his sword up to
block the swipe, but Cirro jerked his sword down in a slash at the back of Josiah’s
knees. Josiah lunged forward and planted his shoulder in Cirro’s chest, taking
him to the ground. He rolled off of his fallen opponent, jumped to his feet,
and spun around. Cirro was still on the ground, so Josiah dashed toward him and
tried to place his sword’s point at Cirro’s neck. Cirro spun around and raised
his foot, blocking Josiah’s blade with his boot. He rolled backwards, grabbed
his sword from the ground, and rose to his feet. Josiah leaped toward Cirro
with his sword extended, but Cirro had more than enough time to react. Instead
of blocking the blow, he simply let it slide off his blade. As Josiah’s
momentum brought him past Cirro, Cirro brought the hilt of his sword around and
slammed it into the side of Josiah’s head. The blow stunned Josiah and knocked
him to the ground.

“You are vanquished, foul fiend,” Cirro
said, placing the tip of his sword against Josiah’s throat. 

“So I’m a foul fiend today?” Josiah asked.
He got to his feet as he rubbed his head. “How long did it take you to come up
with that one?” He slid his sword back into its
scabbard
and began again to massage
the side of his head. “Tell me again why I
fight with you? We both know that you’re going to beat me every time.”

“Don’t despair, Josiah,” Cirro said.
“Today you withstood my onslaught for a full minute. If you keep this up,
pretty soon you’ll be able to hold out for all of a minute and five seconds.
And if that isn’t a good enough reason for you, then how about this one: it’s
just so much fun to beat you time and
time again! I
believe I've sold the idea sufficiently, so w
ould you like to try
again?”

“That was the shortest minute I’ve ever
experienced,” Josiah snorted. Then he added, “Of course, I’ll try again;
otherwise, you’ll never leave me alone.”

The two friends fought several more times,
with Cirro
gaining a decisive victory
each time. They finally
quit and headed for the
building next to the training field
. They quickly
placed their weapons
in their lockers, splashed water from the basin by
the door on their faces, and headed back toward the barracks. The whole period
of exercise had taken about an hour, and as they walked, they met several
groups of cadets heading toward the training grounds. They exchanged
pleasantries with all of
the newcomers, joking
with them as they passed. When they reached the barracks, they headed out back
to the showers to cool off.

******

Senndra tucked the dragon into its bed and
stepped back to watch it sleep. She had only recently come up with a name for
him—Feddir. He had a ridge of spikes trailing from the top of his head to the
tip of his tail. There was a single spike on his nose
that
had a strange
orange tint to it. His mouth didn’t have any teeth yet,
since he was a newborn, but he would get them in the next few weeks. His wings
were folded around his body, making him look like he was wrapped in a blanket.

“You ready to go?” Rita asked from the
other side of the room. She crossed to where Senndra stood and looked at
Feddir. “He sure is cute,” she commented.

“I’ll be ready in a second,” Senndra said.
Her leather armor creaked as she crossed the room to her bunk
. She grabbed
her quiver from the top bunk and
strapped it on. Normally the quiver contained
twenty
razor-sharp arrows and
her unstrung bow as well as the sheath for her
short sword, but tonight it would only hold the sword. Though it was bulky to
use only as a sheath, Senndra had grown use to the feel of it on her back and
always wore it when she expected to fight.

Senndra grabbed her sword belt from the
bunk, slid the blade from its scabbard, and threw the sheath back onto the bed.
With a quick move, she slid the weapon into the scabbard on her
back and then tightened
the straps that held the
assemblage in place. She retrieved her cloak and helmet from a chair and headed
out the door, with Rita right behind her.

The two girls left their dorm and took the
path that led up the mountain to the mess hall. After only a few hundred yards,
they branched off the path onto a wider one. They were soon surrounded by
cadets who were all
heading in the same direction.
It took them ten minutes moving at a good clip to reach their destination, the
sword fighting ring. Already, the stands surrounding the ring were beginning to
fill, and Senndra knew that before the event started they would be full beyond
capacity. This was not only because the sword play competition was a mandatory
affair, but also because it was the most exciting academy event of the year.

Twenty of the best sword fighters would
face off. Each contestant had to get a recommendation from their instructor,
which Senndra had obtained easily. On competition night, they participated in a
tournament in which the twenty contestants fought each other in a series of
one-on-one matches. It was single elimination, meaning that when a contestant
lost, they were ejected from the tournament.

Senndra walked to her place in the
contestant box. Once in her seat, she slid her helmet under her chair and
scanned the crowd for Rita. She didn’t find her, but instead caught sight of
Vladimir. He had clearly gotten to the arena quite early since he had a seat
very near the front. Although there were people on all four sides of him, it
appeared as though they were ignoring him and he kept to himself.

Senndra again tried to spot Rita, but as
she looked, the contest officiator appeared. He walked with long, slow strides
to the middle of the arena where he mounted a platform. By the time he got there,
the whole stadium was silent.

“Welcome to the academy's twenty-third
annual sword fighting contest,” he began. “I will not spend too much time
talking since I know that you are all ready for the contest to begin; however,
I would like to recognize a few people before we start. First, I would like to
thank the
entire group of
sword fighting
instructors that recommended the contestants. I would also like to introduce
Jason Devlon and Marcus Arillion. They will act as the referees of today’s
contest to ensure that the rules are abided by and that no one gets hurt. So
without further ado, let the competition begin."

Cheers erupted as the man left the arena
and another came to take his place. This man was the grand admiral of the
academy, and his presence quickly quieted the arena down
once again. Sen
ndra barely noticed as
he gave his speech
. The butterflies in her stomach
wouldn’t go away no matter what she did, and the wait only made them worse. She
watched as the color guard brought various flags out and posted them at certain
intervals around the arena. Next, four dragons dropped out of the sky and took
their places at the four corners of the arena. Finally, the first man took the
platform again. The crowd applauded as he announced that the contest would begin,
starting with a fight between two cadets whose names Senndra couldn’t remember.

The two combatants stepped into the arena
and walked to the platform in the
middle. The first
cadet ascended the structure and saluted the crowd, bringing a thunderous cheer.
After the applause had died down, the second cadet copied the motions of his
opponent. Again the crowd yelled their approval. The two opponents climbed off
the platform and moved to opposite sides of it. An officiator climbed onto the
structure and raised a flag. When he dropped the flag and backed away, the two
opponents began to circle toward each other.

Senndra knew that focusing on the two
fighting cadets would probably distract her more than it would help. Instead,
she began to inventory her body, checking all of her joints and other body
parts for mobility and pain. All of her joints appeared to be in working order,
though her left knee was a little bit stiff from her bout with Lemin earlier in
the day. Her limbs were free of pain and would not present any problem in the
contest. Senndra looked up and saw that both contestants in the ring were
holding up well. Sighing, she tried to come up with something to think about in
order to pass the time. Vladimir came into her mind, and though she tried to
push the thought away, it remained. She couldn’t figure out what it was about
him that made her so uncomfortable. She wasn’t normally outgoing, but her
behavior regarding Vladimir was very strange even for her. She was so lost in
thought that she missed the name of her opponent and almost missed her own
name. Looking up, she saw a different set of cadets leaving the arena and
wondered how many matches she had missed. She shrugged off the thought as she
grabbed her helmet and entered the arena. Her opponent was already several
yards ahead of her. She fastened her helmet as her opponent scaled the platform
and saluted the crowd, bringing a roar of applause. After the cheering had
subsided, Senndra climbed onto the platform and saluted the crowd. She didn’t even
wait for the applause to subside before she drew her sword from her back
scabbard and jumped off the platform onto the ground. She circled to one corner
of the stage and watched, as an officiator ascended the stage and raised a
flag. He let the flag fall and quickly left the stage.

Senndra had seen these fights for several
years now, and all but one of them had started with the combatants circling the
stage toward each other. In only one fight had a contestant started by leaping
onto the platform in order to give himself a height advantage against his
opponent. This opening move had ended in disaster, and no one had tried it
since. But Senndra was not one to do things the accepted way. Besides, she had
a plan that would utilize the stage for more than just height advantage. As
soon as the flag dropped to start the match, she took a step forward and leapt
up onto the stage and looked down at her opponent. He looked up at her in
astonishment, but took very little time to adjust to her new position. Senndra
watched as he stepped forward and jumped up onto the platform. She vaulted over
him, landing in a crouch and instantly spun, straightening as she did so to aim
a blow at his ankles. He jumped over the blow, landed, and brought his sword
down on Senndra from above. She lifted her arm so that the leather armor there
only received a glancing blow, and the blade slid off. Jumping straight up in
the air, she landed on the platform in front of her opponent and brought her
elbow up into his face. He fell senseless onto the platform, clearly beaten.

The whole fight had taken less than half a
minute, and it seemed as though the crowd was not ready to cheer yet. Silence
reigned in the stands for a full second before the cadets realized that the
bout was over and the arena was filled with shouting. Senndra raised her sword
in a salute, slid it into her scabbard, and headed to the contestant box. She
walked back to her seat and sat down, ignoring everything around her. She knew
that if she paid attention, she might lose her concentration.

“Senndra.”

Senndra looked up and saw Lemin crouching
beside her. He extended his hand, and she shook it.