Blade Archer ~ Eight
Nov. 10th, 2004 05:36 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Kael and his brother and sister carefully wove their way through the upper class districts of Ni-Yana, avoiding as many people as they could. Although the people they mugged were always drunk, there was always the chance that they would be recognised.
The markets that lay adjacent to the city’s docks were bustling as always, mostly the middle class and servants to the wealthy, but a few nobles floated around in delicate blue silks. Neither Kael nor his siblings could resist the ridiculously well-displayed coin pouches of the nobles. As far as Kael was concerned, wearing them so openly was just inviting a set of light fingers to take them away. If they had so much coin that they could be so careless with it, they didn’t deserve to keep it anyway.
With their newly earned coin, Elara was able to buy a bar of soap, and the three of them crossed the main bridge over the Ra-Lin to the quieter banks on the river’s opposite side. The only buildings on this side of the river were the mills and a few scattered farmers’ houses. While the eastern banks held Ni-Yana’s population, the western banks were instead lined with crops.
Upon reaching the other side, Kael kicked off his sandals and dove into the cool, lapping waters of the Ra-Lin, enjoying the feel of the water as it slid against his hot and dusty skin.
“Kael!” Elara called, standing in the water up to her waist, soap in hand. “Come here and let me wash yer hair!”
Kael pulled out the strip of material he used to tie off the end of his plait, ran his fingers through it to untangle it slightly, then dunked his head again and waded over to his sister, a cheeky grin on his face.
A look of mock horror came over Elara’s face as he approached, shirt and hair dripping, and she took a few steps back.
“Don’t ye even think of it!” she warned, but there was no threat in her voice.
Behind her, Ynuk winked before diving forward and bowling her into the water. Elara squealed as she resurfaced, splashing at her older brother.
Ynuk laughed as he shielded himself from the flying water. “Ye was going to get wet anyway,” he teased, before Kael dunked him. He came back up spluttering. “What was that for?”
Kael grinned. “Ye stole me dunking.”
“Is that so?” Ynuk cast a sly glance in Elara’s direction. “Ye know what, he’s the only one who hasn’t gone under yet.”
The same lopsided grin crept onto her lips. “I reckon ye’re right.”
Kael turned and tried to escape the inevitable, but the waist-deep water didn’t allow for enough speed, and he was soon under the water.
“Okay, master blade archer,” Elara said once he had reappeared, “Turn around and let me wash yer hair.”
Kael did as told, marvelling at the three massive ships that were docked on the opposite banks, dwarfing the hundreds of smaller fishing boats in the river. When she had finished, he dunked his head more willingly under the water, rinsing away the soap bubbles before standing up and flicking his hair out of his eyes.
“And you wonder why your blade is rust encrusted.”
The sneering voice belonged to Niloren, Kael’s hand-to-hand combat training partner, who was resting with arms crossed on the bridge’s balustrade.
Kael glanced at him once, readjusted his dagger, then sat back down in the water, very deliberately ignoring the taller boy as he watched the activity on the docks.
Niloren wasn’t so easily dissuaded. “I must admit, I hardly recognised you with your hair down. Quite a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”
Kael didn’t need to look at him to see the smirk on his face. Instead he displayed the back of his hand to his training partner, a very rude gesture by Raykinian terms.
“Who’s this bastard?” Elara hissed to him.
“Just another upper-class rooster,” Kael told her, then grinned. “The one who can’t fall right.”
She gave an exaggerated nod, smirking dangerously. “Ye’d best watch yer mouth,” she said casually, “We outnumber ye at the present, and believe me well, we can give ye far more to worry about than a bruised backside.” She turned to grin sweetly at him, but Kael could easily recognise that malicious glint in her eye. She’d turned it on him enough times for him to be wary of it.
“I don’t doubt that for a second, my dear.”
“What d’ye want?” Ynuk demanded.
Niloren shrugged. “I was just wandering around the market and thought I recognised my dear training partner, so felt like paying him a visit.”
“Go home,” Ynuk told him flatly.
Niloren surveyed the three dripping peasants in the river below him, a look of considerable contempt on his face.
“No, I don’t think I will.”
Kael pulled his dagger from its hilt under the water, brandishing it dangerously. “Ye’ve no doubt heard rumours of the southern districts.” He heard Ynuk and Elara drawing their own daggers behind him. “We’re the kind who keeps them rumours alive.”
Niloren rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t take someone’s life in full view of half of Ni-Yana,” he reasoned, indicating the markets that lay just over the bridge, as well as the fishing boats in the river.
Kael gripped the blade of his between thumb and forefinger, levelling it at the boy. He certainly wouldn’t go that far, but Niloren wasn’t to know that.
“The police would run their blades through you on sight.” He was sounding less certain now.
“Well, I’ll just have to stay out of sight, then, won’t I?” He drew his dagger back.
Niloren swore under his breath, then bolted.
“Damn,” Elara muttered, “He moved.”
“Funny that,” Kael said offhandedly, shoving his dagger back into its sheath.
As the year progressed, Kael noticed his two combat partners were improving, if slowly. They still learnt only the most basic of moves, one new one a day, which was repeated over and over in the course of the day until everyone could execute it perfectly.
It was all so ridiculously structured. If any of these boys were thrown into the lower city with nothing but their dagger, they’d be shocked to realise there was more than one way of escaping from a bear-hug, that people never attacked with less than three people in their group, and certainly that they were quite willing to break skin and even bones in order to get what they came for.
On a day when Niloren wasn’t present and Kael trained instead with the hand-to-hand combat master, he said as much.
Ulan laughed in wry agreement. “I just do what the First General tells me,” he replied. “They’ve got seven years to get up to standard with their fists and feet anyway, so I’m supposed to ‘do it right,’ as it were.” He laughed again. “To be quite honest, you’re going to be driven to boredom by this class until at least the third year, I hate to tell you.”
“So… when do we start on the impossible and put attacking and defending together?” For the whole year, they had either been either attacking or defending, never both in the same fight.
“Not until next year,” Ulan answered, catching Kael’s fist with one hand and striking out with the other. He shrugged. “Even then, that’s about as complicated as it gets.” He swung another punch at Kael’s face, but the younger boy was able to duck out of the way, only to be caught on the shoulder by a foot. He would have caught that on his head had his brother not attempted the move on him so many times.
Kael grinned as he caught his footing. “Third district,” he declared.
The weapons master frowned in confusion at the statement, baring no resemblance to the conversation, then grinned when he realised what Kael was on about. “I had a feeling you’d be the one to have me figured.”
“Had ye figured from the second week. Just wanted to be certain.” He’d been aware of the weapons master pushing him up against the wall, but hadn’t been able to weave out of the manoeuvre. Now, Ulan’s lightning fist appeared between Kael’s eyes, just brushing his nose as his head smacked hard against the stone wall of the barracks.
Kael was forced to lay his right hand over his heart, then display the outstretched palm to the victor in defeat. “What made ye decide to teach upper-class pansies how to use their fists, anyway?”
“There’s no deciding about it,” the weapons master told him, stepping backwards into the centre of the room to begin again. “Once some young upstart takes your place in the Own, it’s your duty to teach the other boys how to knock him back out again.”
Kael frowned in confusion. “But ye said ye was never part of the Own.”
“Yes. Well. In my case, the First General just decided to put me here. An offer I quite literally couldn’t refuse.” The master’s voice was grim. “It was either this or be put in the front line next time we head to Kazin, and knowing my abilities, I wouldn’t last past the first volley of arrows.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t pay half as well as actually being in the army, but it keeps me out of the third district. And Kazin, for that matter.”
Kael glanced around at the overly-structured fights going on around him. “Personally, I’d take Kazin over this lot.”
Ulan winked at him. “Me too,” he said in a whisper.
~ ~ ~
Chapter~ 1600
Total~ 13 509
Time~ 3hrs, 10mins (...mweep)
Total~ 19hrs, 31mins
The markets that lay adjacent to the city’s docks were bustling as always, mostly the middle class and servants to the wealthy, but a few nobles floated around in delicate blue silks. Neither Kael nor his siblings could resist the ridiculously well-displayed coin pouches of the nobles. As far as Kael was concerned, wearing them so openly was just inviting a set of light fingers to take them away. If they had so much coin that they could be so careless with it, they didn’t deserve to keep it anyway.
With their newly earned coin, Elara was able to buy a bar of soap, and the three of them crossed the main bridge over the Ra-Lin to the quieter banks on the river’s opposite side. The only buildings on this side of the river were the mills and a few scattered farmers’ houses. While the eastern banks held Ni-Yana’s population, the western banks were instead lined with crops.
Upon reaching the other side, Kael kicked off his sandals and dove into the cool, lapping waters of the Ra-Lin, enjoying the feel of the water as it slid against his hot and dusty skin.
“Kael!” Elara called, standing in the water up to her waist, soap in hand. “Come here and let me wash yer hair!”
Kael pulled out the strip of material he used to tie off the end of his plait, ran his fingers through it to untangle it slightly, then dunked his head again and waded over to his sister, a cheeky grin on his face.
A look of mock horror came over Elara’s face as he approached, shirt and hair dripping, and she took a few steps back.
“Don’t ye even think of it!” she warned, but there was no threat in her voice.
Behind her, Ynuk winked before diving forward and bowling her into the water. Elara squealed as she resurfaced, splashing at her older brother.
Ynuk laughed as he shielded himself from the flying water. “Ye was going to get wet anyway,” he teased, before Kael dunked him. He came back up spluttering. “What was that for?”
Kael grinned. “Ye stole me dunking.”
“Is that so?” Ynuk cast a sly glance in Elara’s direction. “Ye know what, he’s the only one who hasn’t gone under yet.”
The same lopsided grin crept onto her lips. “I reckon ye’re right.”
Kael turned and tried to escape the inevitable, but the waist-deep water didn’t allow for enough speed, and he was soon under the water.
“Okay, master blade archer,” Elara said once he had reappeared, “Turn around and let me wash yer hair.”
Kael did as told, marvelling at the three massive ships that were docked on the opposite banks, dwarfing the hundreds of smaller fishing boats in the river. When she had finished, he dunked his head more willingly under the water, rinsing away the soap bubbles before standing up and flicking his hair out of his eyes.
“And you wonder why your blade is rust encrusted.”
The sneering voice belonged to Niloren, Kael’s hand-to-hand combat training partner, who was resting with arms crossed on the bridge’s balustrade.
Kael glanced at him once, readjusted his dagger, then sat back down in the water, very deliberately ignoring the taller boy as he watched the activity on the docks.
Niloren wasn’t so easily dissuaded. “I must admit, I hardly recognised you with your hair down. Quite a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”
Kael didn’t need to look at him to see the smirk on his face. Instead he displayed the back of his hand to his training partner, a very rude gesture by Raykinian terms.
“Who’s this bastard?” Elara hissed to him.
“Just another upper-class rooster,” Kael told her, then grinned. “The one who can’t fall right.”
She gave an exaggerated nod, smirking dangerously. “Ye’d best watch yer mouth,” she said casually, “We outnumber ye at the present, and believe me well, we can give ye far more to worry about than a bruised backside.” She turned to grin sweetly at him, but Kael could easily recognise that malicious glint in her eye. She’d turned it on him enough times for him to be wary of it.
“I don’t doubt that for a second, my dear.”
“What d’ye want?” Ynuk demanded.
Niloren shrugged. “I was just wandering around the market and thought I recognised my dear training partner, so felt like paying him a visit.”
“Go home,” Ynuk told him flatly.
Niloren surveyed the three dripping peasants in the river below him, a look of considerable contempt on his face.
“No, I don’t think I will.”
Kael pulled his dagger from its hilt under the water, brandishing it dangerously. “Ye’ve no doubt heard rumours of the southern districts.” He heard Ynuk and Elara drawing their own daggers behind him. “We’re the kind who keeps them rumours alive.”
Niloren rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t take someone’s life in full view of half of Ni-Yana,” he reasoned, indicating the markets that lay just over the bridge, as well as the fishing boats in the river.
Kael gripped the blade of his between thumb and forefinger, levelling it at the boy. He certainly wouldn’t go that far, but Niloren wasn’t to know that.
“The police would run their blades through you on sight.” He was sounding less certain now.
“Well, I’ll just have to stay out of sight, then, won’t I?” He drew his dagger back.
Niloren swore under his breath, then bolted.
“Damn,” Elara muttered, “He moved.”
“Funny that,” Kael said offhandedly, shoving his dagger back into its sheath.
As the year progressed, Kael noticed his two combat partners were improving, if slowly. They still learnt only the most basic of moves, one new one a day, which was repeated over and over in the course of the day until everyone could execute it perfectly.
It was all so ridiculously structured. If any of these boys were thrown into the lower city with nothing but their dagger, they’d be shocked to realise there was more than one way of escaping from a bear-hug, that people never attacked with less than three people in their group, and certainly that they were quite willing to break skin and even bones in order to get what they came for.
On a day when Niloren wasn’t present and Kael trained instead with the hand-to-hand combat master, he said as much.
Ulan laughed in wry agreement. “I just do what the First General tells me,” he replied. “They’ve got seven years to get up to standard with their fists and feet anyway, so I’m supposed to ‘do it right,’ as it were.” He laughed again. “To be quite honest, you’re going to be driven to boredom by this class until at least the third year, I hate to tell you.”
“So… when do we start on the impossible and put attacking and defending together?” For the whole year, they had either been either attacking or defending, never both in the same fight.
“Not until next year,” Ulan answered, catching Kael’s fist with one hand and striking out with the other. He shrugged. “Even then, that’s about as complicated as it gets.” He swung another punch at Kael’s face, but the younger boy was able to duck out of the way, only to be caught on the shoulder by a foot. He would have caught that on his head had his brother not attempted the move on him so many times.
Kael grinned as he caught his footing. “Third district,” he declared.
The weapons master frowned in confusion at the statement, baring no resemblance to the conversation, then grinned when he realised what Kael was on about. “I had a feeling you’d be the one to have me figured.”
“Had ye figured from the second week. Just wanted to be certain.” He’d been aware of the weapons master pushing him up against the wall, but hadn’t been able to weave out of the manoeuvre. Now, Ulan’s lightning fist appeared between Kael’s eyes, just brushing his nose as his head smacked hard against the stone wall of the barracks.
Kael was forced to lay his right hand over his heart, then display the outstretched palm to the victor in defeat. “What made ye decide to teach upper-class pansies how to use their fists, anyway?”
“There’s no deciding about it,” the weapons master told him, stepping backwards into the centre of the room to begin again. “Once some young upstart takes your place in the Own, it’s your duty to teach the other boys how to knock him back out again.”
Kael frowned in confusion. “But ye said ye was never part of the Own.”
“Yes. Well. In my case, the First General just decided to put me here. An offer I quite literally couldn’t refuse.” The master’s voice was grim. “It was either this or be put in the front line next time we head to Kazin, and knowing my abilities, I wouldn’t last past the first volley of arrows.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t pay half as well as actually being in the army, but it keeps me out of the third district. And Kazin, for that matter.”
Kael glanced around at the overly-structured fights going on around him. “Personally, I’d take Kazin over this lot.”
Ulan winked at him. “Me too,” he said in a whisper.
Chapter~ 1600
Total~ 13 509
Time~ 3hrs, 10mins (...mweep)
Total~ 19hrs, 31mins
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Date: 2004-11-10 06:06 am (UTC)And he's not rooting anything until I tell him to XP