Smoke and Iron-Legends of Silva-Book 1

Chapter 8-Never a Dull Moment

Andreas

The clash of my sword rings through the chamber, as Ren and I spar across the stone floor. Our chests and backs drip with sweat, as we circle each other, weapons raised in steeled defense.

Ren lunges, sweeping his sword towards my feet with ease. I jump into the air and across the floor, landing in a crouch, and quickly turning and to raise my sword as Ren brings his weapon down with a clang of metal. The impact jars my arms, sending sparks through muscle and bone.

Grunting with effort, I twist my sword around Ren's and wrench it out of his grasp. The sword falls onto the stone with a clang. Before he can reach for it, I press the tip of my weapon on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. Ren glances at the bit of metal pressed against him, his mouth twisting in irritation.

"You know Andreas, I'm getting kind of tired of losing to you," he sighs.

A small laugh escapes me before I can squash it. Taking my sword from his chest, I head over to the rack of weapons on the wall and place the sword back onto the rack.

"I can't help it Ren," I say, "maybe if you trained more you wouldn't have that problem."

Ren rolls his eyes and fetches his sword off the ground.

"You know what I mean, cause it won't matter how much I train because you will still be able to beat me and everyone else in the squad."

"I'm not able to beat everyone," I say, as I watch as he puts his sword on the rack as well.

"There are a few in the squad who would beat me in a fight."

Ren barks a laugh and turns to me.

"Really, and who might they be?"

"Well for one Lars has a fist like steel, and Ivan is a demon with a staff," I reply.

"And your point is?" he grunts, raising a brow at me.

"My point is, you are not the only one who gets his ass handed to him."

"Sure, and I'm one of the Shifter Queen's pirates," Reb replies with another eye roll.

Cracking a wide grin, Ren pats me on the shoulder and heads to the shelves filled with coats, shirts, and gear. I stay next to the weapons rack taking in the sight of the underground chamber. Spanning at least two hundred feet in length on each side and holding racks of weapons along the walls. With a floor of aged stone worn smooth by the many boots that have walked across the surface. Torches in iron holdings, shine like embers in the chamber.

A chamber filled with other young men training and honing their skills, before heading out into the dark night. On the hunt for wanted criminals and patrolling the desolate streets of the city. All hand picked for this dangerous vocation. Our ages span from young Orion aged fourteen, to Lars who recently turned twenty. Our backgrounds are kept secret from the soldiers and each other. The only things we know are each other's faces, names, and ages. The only people who know the rest are Talber, General Ardon, and the king.

Which is fine with us, as it is only for six years of our lives that we will spend in almost complete isolation from the world. The only times we go out in uniform or civilian dress, is at night where we can disappear into the dark at will. A skill that I will utilize tonight to wrap up an unsavory errand. For now I watch in silence as Isaac and Ivan, the other two remaining in the room besides me, duel with lethal metal staffs strong enough to crack skulls and break bones.

They move swift and sure across the floor, their boots skidding and scuffing the stones. Their hands holding their staffs in white knuckled grips, while their arms and legs move like water. Muscles fluid but tense, as they block and attack in quick succession. They have been at it since I got here nearly four hours ago. Sparring for twenty minutes and resting for ten, they have repeated this pattern, which shows their tremendous improvement in the use of the staffs.