Victory's Price

Phoenix (Part Eighteen)

Chapter 18

She had always considered herself perceptive. But when conflict stared her in the face, Phoenix realised she was capable of so much more. It was like a filter settled itself over her senses, fading out all that did not matter and sharpening everything that did.

She stood, ankle deep, in cool water but she would not notice unless the chance arose that it may upset her footing. For now all that mattered in her world were the steady beatings of her heart and the opponent’s as his rapidly counted down the last few minutes of his existence.

Adrenalin surged through her body, fighting its way through her veins to the very tips of her fingers. A kind of fierce joy followed the sensation. This was what it meant to be alive. This was what she had been missing for two hundred empty years.

Wolf was speaking.

She had not noticed until now, not until her ears told her that his words risked the effect of the outcome.

He was bargaining.

Slowly, incredulously, she turned her gaze upon him.

“What are you doing?” Her words were clipped; crisp and short.

His hands were in his pockets as he replied.

“I’m paying what they ask. I know that this isn’t strictly legal, of course, but the man looks like he might get violent.”

Phoenix was just too horrified to restrict the conversation. Her eyes grew wide.

“I was nine when I first tasted blood. By the age of eleven I found myself ensconced in the First Star. Do you know how many warriors have died doing what I have done? I was the protector of a hundred warrior kings and Queen of Twelve Stars. I have fought in every war and lived through nearly four hundred years of blood. For two hundred years my name was used as a curse, my reputation carved by the lives I have taken.” She counted the achievements off on her fingers. “And you are worried that some peasants might get violent?”

For once Wolf was speechless. His silence withdrew him from the fight and then he was gone from her mind.

The man ahead of her had not heard her words. He did not know all that she was and he expected her to yield. She paced forward to address him, thrill, expectation and desire dancing in her veins.

“What’s up, my girl?” The dead man smiled. “You know, a little lady like you could always pay in favours, if the toll is too high.” His grin grew larger, turning lecherous.

Phoenix had done enough talking for the day. She took another step.

“Or I’d have that sword of yours. It looks like good workmanship. The toll takers; we’re a generous bunch, we’ll have whatever’s easiest for you.”

Slowly, Phoenix’s gaze travelled to the metal in her hand. His words hardly registered. They did not matter.

She stepped closer.

Her encroaching vicinity and continued silence were putting him on edge. Good. His discomfort would affect his judgement.

Leisurely, Phoenix began to flip the blade, passing it over the back of her hand and back into her palm. The movement was ever so slightly threatening, designed to increase unease.

It was working. As she took another measured step forwards his stance over the river wavered and he leant away.

She smiled. Any man this loath for a fight would make an easy adversary.