Metal and Flesh (The Rohvim, Book 1)

21.3 Raked

   Stuart stepped forward, raising his sword to the smiling lieutenant. "And now, a boy to challenge me? Really, I am somewhat insulted." He raised his sword as well, and lunged at Stuart. Once again, a flurry of steel and light pierced the candlelit room, sparks flying, blades clashing. Aeden watched in awe, marking the rotund boy's fluid and graceful motion as he contended with the older man.

   Like in the first duel, the lieutenant parried a blow from Stuart and reached forward to touch his head, but Stuart spun in place and slashed at the man, who leapt backwards, though not soon enough to avoid receiving a large gash on his arm. A look of shock flashed over his face, he stared at his wound, then, as his eyes defocused somewhat, they saw the cut stop bleeding.

   He stared at Stuart. "I'm afraid I shall have to make you pay for that." He charged again, and they clashed, lightning arcing between their swords. The lieutenant, with a forceful swipe, knocked Stuart's sword momentarily to one side, and he struck out with his fist, punching the boy square in the face with a forceful blow. Stuart stumbled backwards, holding his nose which had erupted in blood. The lieutenant slashed his sword out of his other hand and darted forward, ending the duel almost as quickly as Arturo's.

   Aeden took a deep breath. He thought of Betha, He thought of Priam, and he thought of Rupert, and at once the emotions from his poor friend flooded back to him as he grabbed his sword from behind his back. He looked up at his prize-the gift of the lord of Elbeth himself. He reached back within himself to his wall, and to his shock it instantly came to his view, as if to his real eyes. He extended his hands to the controls, simultaneously extended his sword arm, and spoke. "This is your final chance, sir. Surrender, or I shall regrettably have to kill you."

   The man laughed maniacally. "Your friends each fell in less than a minute. And now the youngest of you all presents himself to me? Run, boy, or I'll slaughter you."

   Aeden used his shock controls, building up some energy as if to prepare a mind shock as the master healer had taught him, but this time preparing to dump it all into his sword. He marveled at the ease with which he could split his attention: he felt divided, and yet more whole than ever. He was in the present. He was aware of his mind, and mindful of his body.

   He looked up to his raised sword-the elegant design, the metal hilt, its sharpness and perfection, all now crackling with a charge of energy. He charged, as did the lieutenant. He slashed, and released the energy all at once. The swords connected, and both exploded in a spray of molten metal. The two combatants screamed, their hands burned, and they closed their eyes as the metal sprayed them. Aeden opened his, and smiled at the older man. "You don't look so big without your sword." And he charged again, crashing into the man, punching and striking as hard as he could. The lieutenant fell backwards with Aeden on top of him, the powerful boy managing to straddle the man's torso.

   Aeden rained blows on the man's face, but the lieutenant reached forward with one hand, sending a thundering shock of energy out of his fingertips directly into Aeden's chest, who flew backward, striking the wall and falling to the floor. The lieutenant, bleeding and laughing, slowly got to his feet. Aeden struggled, dizzy and disoriented, Diana and Ellen shouting incomprehensibly at him. He reached back into his mind and examined his wall, adjusting several controls as he rose to his feet, trying desperately to heal his equilibrium before the lieutenant attacked again.

   He steadied himself, looked over at the man still chuckling and spitting out blood, and started to sprint. He reached a terrific speed, and, leaping, flew through the air, arms outstretched. The surprised lieutenant raised his hands, charging up his attack. Aeden, still flying towards the man, grabbed one of the hands and pulled it aside while in the same motion aimed his other hand at the man's head, while the lieutenant brought his free hand close to Aeden's face. Aeden fingers touched the man's forehead and, diving inside it, the world froze. He at once found himself on a dark plain with a moonlit sky, as well as still frozen-suspended in the air with one hand wrapped around the lieutenant's wrist, the other hand's longest finger barely touching his head, the man's other hand within two inches of Aeden's face.

   He looked closely at the real world, though objectively as if from a great distance. The lieutenant's free hand was moving, perceptibly, barely, a hair's breadth every second. He felt the fingertips charge with energy. In the mind, he looked around, and saw the man standing behind him. Congratulations. At least you made it this far. Very well done!

   Aeden walked towards him slowly, I haven't even started yet. Do you surrender? Or do I need to kill you? He looked around as he approached the lieutenant, now much more massive and powerful looking. He saw the man's wall, and, strangely enough, saw no image of Lord Shiavo manipulating controls. Curious, he continued, Where is your master? Are you not a puppet like the rest of them?

   The man laughed, Heavens, no! I'm here of my own accord, to fight for a worthy goal. Tell me, young princeling, how does it feel now to be at the mercy of others? Tell me how it feels to have your home taken away from you, your fields raped, your livelihood destroyed? Not so fun to be a nobleman these days in Elbeth, it seems ...

   Aeden looked at him, puzzled, You think I'm a noble? He looked at the unfolding scene in the outside world of the chamber and watched energy sprout from the man's fingertips, jumping the space to his own face instantly. Searing pain bore into Aeden's mind, but he observed it objectively, as calmly as he observed the scene itself.

   The man pointed, Look, even in here you're still wearing your royal armor that looks as if it came from the king's treasury itself!

   Aeden paced towards the man, watching in the living world that the hand drawn over his face, ripping with deadly energy across his flesh. This? He looked down and saw Betha's father's armor still strapped to him, This is no royal armor, well, not in the strictest sense of the word. No, it was a gift from a common merchant. And me? He paused, I've been a slave to the nobility my entire life. But here you are, gloating of murdering countless innocents? I think it is time we ended this.