The Blade Ripper

Salzano patted Agnesa on the back to encourage her. As he had done from the time she was a little girl, he tugged on her braids as a sign of affection.

Agnesa had no interest in the local competitions, despite her father's role as Judge Advocate for Zerrante. Just this morning, she had hidden from him under her low-slung bed, flattened like their old tabby cat squeezing under the barn door to chase rats. Until she turned twelve, no one had cared that she preferred to hike the Summit alone or listen to the Village Reader as he worked his way through the third volume of The Delivered or even the twelfth volume of The Provided.

But today things had changed. If her birthday had been one day later, her participation would have waited a full year.

Her father showed her how to tie the sharpened blade to the string. First, Salzano used the wolf's tooth to stab a slit in the metal, right in the corner so it could swing freely. Then he slipped a thin strip of hide through the hole and knotted the spliced ends. He handed Agnesa two more blades, shiny and sharper than an eagle's talon.

"Handle them carefully, Agnesa. It is easy to forget and a slight mishandling could cause you to lose a finger."

A tear trickled down Agnesa's cheek. Before wiping it away, she put down the blade. She had learned that lesson at least.

"Agnesa, what are you afraid of? You are the eldest daughter of one of the finest families in Zerrante. You should fear nothing."

"But father, it is Ezio I am competing against. Which kite is downed does not matter. Either way, he or I must leave for Wollenzs. We have already made a soul promise—that we would marry no one else ever."

"Oh, Agnesa. You are too young for such things. You do not yet know your soul."

~~~~~

Time brought height and muscle to Agnesa and now she struggled to suppress her training. The words of her father echoed endlessly: "If you are knocked down two times, stand up three." But the years training with Salzano had also taught her to trust her instinct. She remained motionless, prone. A bloody palm print inches away on a tree caught her attention. Where was Llarensich?

She recalled details of the brutal fight. Five Caudraths had attacked their small party traveling to the festival of Maypril. Agnesa had seen Llinos and Gwilla fall to eternity under the blows of the heavy maces, but not before three Caudraths were taught the lessons of mortality by her two friends. She had heard Llarensich cry out before she felt a giant fist strike the side of her head. Then nothing until the throbbing above her ear awakened her.

~~~~~

Llarensich's humming had drawn two antlered creatures to his side. The pair, Nerewyds, by his best guess, nosed him as he winced even from their gentle touch. Llarensich knew what to expect, if they were in fact Nerewyds. He quieted his thoughts as the female, silver fur peppered with ebony spots, knelt at his left side, and the male, ivory with tan spots barely discernible, knelt at his right.

As if on cue, the Nerewyds bowed their heads so their antlers cathedraled over his wound. Llarensich's humming had never subsided. As the tips of their antlers touched, small sparks of light shot into the sky.

~~~~~

Pressing her fingertips to her temple, Agnesa realized the sensation was not the throbbing from a wound. She leapt to her feet. It was Llarensich! He was close, close enough the Call of Fealty could reach her. A flickering light formed an arc above nearby trees. If she could make it to the light, she would be safe. Llarensich was under the protection of the Royal Nerewyds.