Date: Fri, 1 Feb 2013 06:06:24 +0000
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Assassin's Apprentice Chapter 17 - Gay Science Fiction

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      My email: kavrik@hotmail.com
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      "The Assassin's Apprentice" is told in first person present tense and
has been heavily edited.

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                                    *****

                                 Chapter 17

      Back in Clothol, I take leave of Talen and Ambrell and go in search
of the Nightmaster. In all the time I've lived at the guild, I've never met
this man. So you can imagine my surprise to find that the Nightmaster is in
fact, a woman.

      She's a short girl with tell-tale brown eyes and strawberry blonde
hair that falls to about mid- shoulder.  She regards me with cold eyes the
first time I walk into her office. It's a plain affair, but she does have a
lit fireplace to ward away the evening chill. There are no other chairs
present.  I assume this is to discourage long visits.

      I pull out the bag that carries the jewels.  I weigh them a moment in
my palm, like a man inspecting a melon at market.  She watches me and her
lips part as if to say something. I toss the bag onto her desk.

      "They're all there...every last one of them," I say.

      She regards me carefully. "You're covered in blood. Are you hurt?"

      I shake my head. "It's not mine. But we've had losses. Elliot and
Swift didn't make it."

      "Didn't make it?  How did they die?"

      I watch her carefully now, voiding my face of emotion to make my lie
as believable as possible. "We went in as a team. We split up. Elliot died
at Lyran's hand; I believe a woman named Kahket killed Swift. Talen and I
risked our lives to save Ambrell. That's all."

      "Kahket?"

      I shrug my shoulders. "A witch. I overheard her say she needed the
jewels, and that she should've never trusted the Black Prince of Ladika." I
grab hold of one of the sacks and dip my fingers inside one last time. I
feel them cold and hard like tiny marbles in my hand.

      I wish I could keep a few. If anything, maybe I could make a ring and
give it to Talen. I'm sure he'd like a ring.

      I lift the sparkling sapphires from their velvet embrace and let them
slide between my fingertips.  The sapphires are a deep blue and catch the
light in such a way as to make it seem like rain is falling gentle and
heavy from my outstretched hand.

      "They're beautiful," she says, admiringly.

      I swallow uncomfortably.

      There's a moment of silence.  A thief's true love is money.  My
father told me once that flowers are created by god. Hell, however, has no
such beauty. So, the King of demons creates jewels.  It makes sense to me.

      "What's the purpose of all this? Why is there a guild war?" I ask
her.

      She leans back in her chair and folds her fingers. "Every few years,
the Guild House of Assassins demands a tithe from a sector that operates
within the four countries of the Nimmermore.  Each guild within this sector
must send away seven sons and seven daughters to join the slave pits of
Thorn deep within the Mirimar.  A game is held to allow the most skilled
within the sector to retain their talent.  Each guild chooses a champion
and a team; the prize is always different.  These particular jewels are
intended as a gift from our country, Ventikor, to the Bakoran Emperor, for
his sixth royal wedding. As per custom, each one represents a township
responsible for providing the jewel. As they are collected one by one, they
are shown in museums under heavy guard throughout the land before being
boxed up for the highway to Imperium. Some were purchased by very poor
communities whose tax burden is already severe. Now all of these of course,
will have to be replaced at the expense of the people in a very short
amount of time."

      "Or-"

      "Or all the first born in the town where the theft took place shall
be put to death. That's the law of the land. Thievery is not tolerated
within the land; it's a capital offense, you know?"

      I'm horrified. "Ladika is a huge city," I manage to say, but my voice
is a whisper. It's one thing to kill those who deserve it. It's quite
another to kill children.

      "I don't make the rules.  Blood will fill the ditches; it's happened
before. Your success tonight saves us from sending away seven boys and
seven girls. You're a hero. Don't let it bother you that people you haven't
met must now live a life of slavery in the Pit of Thorn. I thought you were
the Nightshade's apprentice. Can a professional assassin afford to have a
conscience?"

      I swear then and there that there will be some lines I never
cross. If Constantine had been honest with me, if they'd told me that
innocents could die because of my actions, I would've never have consented
to go.

      I look at her once more and begin to leave, unnerved by the coldness
in her eyes. Her stare reminds me of a snake's eyes.

      As I close the door, she rises from her seat. "You'll be paid
tomorrow," she says.

      I almost don't want the money.

      I find Talen downstairs being attended to by Friar Abbath. I want him
to hold me right now, but I bury my feelings for the moment. The priest
cleans and bandages his wounds and gives him a tonic that makes him a bit
sleepy. He suggests that Talen stay there for the night on a cot, but as
much as I like the new friar, I'm not leaving my boyfriend with him. I pick
Talen up and carry him upstairs to the dojo, which seems oddly peaceful
without Constantine here.  The poultice intoxicates him to the point of
mumbling.

      "Kian," he says, "are you listening to me?"

      "I suppose," I answer him, smiling. I lay him down and slip off his
boots.

      "We did well, didn't we?"

      "Yes," I say. "Yes, we did, considering..."

      "You're a hunter," he whispers, fingering my petite ears. "Say, why
do you suppose Tethyr created booze?"

      I shake my head, preparing for the worst.  "I don't know, why?"

      "So that fat, ugly girls can get laid too."

      I ruffle his hair with my hand.  "Get some sleep.  Your jokes are
terrible."

      "Critic," he says.  I finish undressing him, and then stretch a
blanket over his shoulder.

      I kiss him tenderly and say, "I'll join you in a while."

      Before I reach the door, I stop and look at the curious book Talen
pilfered back at the museum.  I open the pages and inspect it. I see many
obscene anatomical drawings that seem to detail bloody and invasive medical
procedures. One particular piece looks like an erect cock having something
inserted into it...a rod of some kind; it looks terribly painful.  There
are all kinds of notes which I of course, can't read.  I close the cover;
the book's bound in strange leather.  Ancient and weathered, there's a
raised bump on the surface that looks like a human nipple, with a design
imprinted in the flesh below it.

      What the fuck is this? I ask myself, and I've to admit, I'm a little
unnerved by it.

      I swallow and watch Talen's chest gently rising and falling, and I
leave the ghastly book in his belongings.

      I hope he'll explain it to me when he wakes up.

      I exit, closing the door behind me.

      I pace the sandy courtyard considering the events of the last two
days. With Wriln's help, we got out of the city before morning. Logren left
us outside the city and told us he'd be available if I needed him
again. Good.  I want to be able to call upon some brute strength if
necessary. An assassin's life afterall, must have options. With the giant
gone we made good time, and I stole some horses from a hostel four leagues
from Ladika. By evening, we'd made it back to Clothol.

      I sit under the opening in the roof for a while looking at the scroll
tube by torchlight.

      At long last, I loosen one end of it and let the jewel fall out into
my hand. By the light of the hoary moon, it takes on a reddish color; I
spot flecks of silver suspended within. The gem's fully as large as the end
of my thumb, and I wonder how Constantine plans to use it to find the
mysterious 'Bloodbane'.

      Wired, a strange longing overcomes me: one in which I want to lay
naked under the stars. I take off all my clothes and climb onto the roof,
carrying the jewel in my hand. When I was in prison, I would sometimes gaze
out my window and count the stars.  I'd my own names for them of course.
When you give something a name it kind of personalizes things; it gives you
dominion over them.  At least, that's how I saw it.

      Two years ago, I wouldn't have even considered this type of capering
around.  But I'm a different man now and my body is lean and powerful. And
as I arrive, I admit there's no better view.  The guild house is taller
than the three or four buildings directly surrounding it, though by no
means as tall as other structures in the crowded city of Clothol. I can
even smell the ocean from here, and it's a calm scent reminding me of my
father.

      I lay down, glorious moonlight bathing my naked sweaty chest, and I
look at the ruby.

      "So this is the eye of blood," I whisper to myself.


                                    *****

      The next day, I receive four thousand imperial crowns for my work.

      That's a lot of money; and it gives me an idea of just how much that
shipment of jewels is worth.  The guild, as far as I know, has already
managed to unload them to a trusted Fence in the city.  I split the take
into five equal shares: the Nightmaster agrees to send Logren and Wriln
theirs, and that makes me happy.

      During the first month back, I keep up my exercises and my training.

      Talen sleeps with me every night. Sometimes I catch him reading from
the book, but he usually puts it away. I want to know what it is, but I'm
afraid to ask him because he might think I'm stupid because I can't read
it. Or maybe he won't talk about the journal because it's something
personal to him. Perhaps he wants to become a doctor. I only know if he
wants to tell me what the book contains, he will.

      And that's just it, he never does.

      Talen loves me to fuck him. I sometimes wonder what it might feel
like to trade places, but I think he's happiest being on the bottom, and
truthfully my memory of that position isn't always the best. But I was
usually being raped. What I do with Talen is so gentle, and he's incredibly
flexible, able to accommodate nearly any position that affords the deepest
thrust. His favorite though is to put his feet on my broad shoulders while
we stare into each other's eyes. He loves that position. We even work out a
kind of synergy so that we arrive at our moment at the same time. That's a
lot of fun. I also find out that jade nuru is expensive, but necessary, if
we want to continue having fun.

      One night following sex, he's playing with my cock which he often
does, and asks if I'd ever want to get a piercing there.

      I shake my head. "No, it sounds painful."

      "Only at first," he says, "I'm sure of it. And I could do it for
you."

      I blink, but I don't say anything. "Do you really want me to have
one?"

      It's his turn to shake his head.  "I'm just kind of asking. I know
you've been seeing me read this book," he says, gesturing with his hand.

      I nod.  "What is it?" At last I get some answers.

      "It's the most vile thing I've ever read. You wouldn't like it much
because it's about torturing Atlantean boys. The book was written by a
priest of Chagidiel," he states.

      "Chagidiel? I'm not familiar with--"

      "He's the demigod of sexual perversion and cannibalism," Talen
says. "I found it during our night at the museum. His followers are some of
the most reviled in the entire world. They're more clandestine than even
the god of secrets. They have to be, or they would all be murdered."

      I blink again, completely befuddled by Talen's obsession with this
tome. "I don't quite follow. Is it a religious book?"

      "Yes. Let me ask you this question: do you love me enough that if you
could, you would do anything to prevent me from getting hurt?"

      I nod and smooth the fine mousy hair over his ears.  "Of course."

      He smiles thumbing the end of my narrow nose. "Well you can, but it's
incredibly painful.  That's why I'm asking. And it would require you trust
me." He pauses, and then follows up with, "You trust me, right?"

      I nod again. "With my own life."

      Talen turns his head sideways and rests one cheek against my navel;
the soft skin of my cock grows flaccid in the crook of his throat and
chin. I smell my semen on his breath; it smells like the salty sea.

      "The ritual only works on Atlantean boys with blond hair who have
almost no body fat. You know that stuff we overheard about broken bones
mending, skin never breaking...that kind of thing?"

      I nod.

      "It's kind of true. If I do...THINGS...to your body...using
implements I procure from a cabal of Chagidiel, then the blood I draw out
of you will take minutes off the end of your lifespan.  That's nothing
Kian, and I'd only take a minute per day.  If you live to be seventy, it's
but a drop in the well. And I promise...it won't do anything to you
now...j-just you won't live as long as you naturally would, and we've no
idea how long that is. Some Atlanteans lived to be 200 years old!"

      I swallow hard, listening.

      "But in exchange, the blood gives me that kind of 'invulnerability'
for 24-hours. Longer, if I take more of it...but I won't do that.  The
thing is, you'd have to trust me, because once I start drawing blood from
you in THAT WAY, you'll be paralyzed until 20 minutes after I stop.  There
are stories in the book of forty men doing this to one blond Atlantean and
so shortening his life, that he perishes by morning. But they went on to
slay thousands of men in battles that tipped wars, Kian!  Can you imagine
that?! That's how special you are. No one else has this kind of
biology. The Atlanteans are all gone, and this requires the rarest...the
blond boys."

      I stare in his eyes; feel his pulse beneath my fingertips.

      In the end, I've no desire to grow old. Better to write the end of my
life off and live now with my young lover.

      "What do we have to do?" I ask him.

      He smiles again and then kisses me long and hard, his small cock
playing along the skin of my smooth abs.  "I'll need to locate a priest of
Chagidiel. That'll be hard to do. And I'll need to have instruments that
he's washed in the blood of virgin women sacrificed to Chagidiel during the
feast of the lad. Chagidiel may be a persecuted faith, but if I let out
word that I have a blond Atlantean youth, I may be able to find one who's
willing to help us."

      "How exactly would he be willing to help us?" I ask, my tongue
playing over his.

      "I'll be dangling you like bait. He'll be under the impression that
you are his...that he gets to fuck you. I'd let him shave you, but nothing
further than that. I promise. As it is...only he can shave you anyway, so
that part's mandatory. As well as the tattoo that he places below your
belly button.  It'll be in the shape of a ram's skull."

      "Shave me?" Truthfully, the tattoo doesn't bother me. But I rather
like the little body hair I possess. I'll look juvenile without it.

      Talen nods.  "There's a special oil that is only prepared by the
priests. It's created during the cannibal feast of the blood moon, and
that's why I asked about the piercing. A blond Atlantean boy has his pubes
removed by a razor. There must not even be a single hair left on his body
except those on his face.  Then he must be made to cum, but his semen must
not be exposed to the air for ten minutes. The process is said to be
excruciatingly painful and pleasureful at the same time."

      "How is that possible?" I ask. He parts from my lips.

      "I have to sound you with a specially prepared glass rod that could
break if not administered properly."

      I look at him puzzled."Sound me?"

      He looks down at my cock.  "I'll insert a large lubricated glass rod
down your urethra. It'll hurt because it's big, but it must stretch you.
You see...forever after, when you cum, it can potentially be a lot...AS
there's no end to your orgasm once 'unlocked.' After about a pint, blood
will start pumping. THAT's what I'll be after. But only a little--enough to
make me invulnerable for a day. But to get you to this point, you need to
be 'unlocked.'"

      There's that word again. "Unlocked?"

      "The piercing inserted in the glans here," he says fingering my
mushroom head, "will keep it from going all the way in because it'll have a
rounded top.  When you seed, the rod will keep it from escaping.  We wait
ten minutes, and I'll carefully milk you into a small dish which will be
mixed with the special oil. Then the priest will say a prayer to Chagidiel
to unlock the potency, and some will be drizzled into a drink for you to
imbibe. The rest will be applied to your dick.  And...there'll be a small
side effect..." he says, voice trailing off.

      "A side-effect?"

      He pauses possibly considering what to say. "You're going to get
bigger than you are now: an inch in length and girth, and the growth will
be torturous as veins rise like worms across your penis. By my measure,
it'll be a foot long at that point, and as thick around as my wrist.  I
admit, I'll be in pain most nights, but it's worth it because you're so
pretty. You're my lovely Kian."

      "Tethyr's teeth, I don't want that..." I say.

      Talen presses his lips to mine.  "But I DO. PLEASE. Don't think of
yourself, think of me."

      My mouth drains of spit, but I can't refuse him. He's my boyfriend,
and I think I'd be lost without him. "Is there anything else bad that might
happen?"

      "I don't know. It's the darkest magic...it's never been tried before
like what I'm planning to do. No Atlantean on the face of Wynwrayth EVER
did this willingly. Once you're unlocked, your pupils will turn
silver. Anyone familiar with the ritual will know how valuable you are, and
what they can gain from your body. The book suggests that an Atlantean
unlocked this way is the most valuable thing in all the world. If someone
eats your eyes, they get x-ray vision. If someone eats your feet, they can
run as fast as a cheetah. If someone eats your tongue, they'll be able to
speak any language; your nose and they can smell any scent even from miles
away. Chagidiel is the god of cannibalism, and his magic will infuse your
body parts for the harvesting. You and I will have to be extra vigilant to
make sure that never happens."

      "What if someone eats my heart?" I ask, trembling and suddenly
feeling cold.

      "Then they fall in love with the first person that they see."

                                    *****

      Despite Constantine's having asked me to stay out of the training
room on the top floor of the guild, I disobey his wishes, sometimes
relegating moments alone up there on hot days to work out and improve my
skills. I hone my kicks and my form.

      I spend my evenings with Talen and sometimes Ambrell.  During these
few weeks, Talen never speaks again of the mysterious and evil
grimoire. But I know he's using his days to try and find a priest of
Chagidiel. There's a part of me that hopes he never finds one.

      The guild asks me to do a few minor things for them, and I go with
Talen to the Enforcer's Guild for a week to deal with a small problem in
collections. It seems that some of the businesses down on the wharf are
skipping out on their protection money and are in need of a reminder.

      Additionally, the owner of the Cup and the Dragon got in a very
special keg of elven ale.  Within an hour he arranges for a city-wide
auction without paying off the Guild of Spirits. Because the Guild of
Spirits more or less pays protection money to the Enforcer's guild, which
in turn looks to us, the Thieves' Guild for certain "favors", Talen and I
soon find ourselves in a hastily thrown meeting with a powerful man.

      "Let me get this straight," Talen says to Olaf, Master of the Guild
of Spirits, "You want us to help you steal the keg, or if that's
impossible, to burn the Cup and the Dragon to the ground?"

      The overweight man slaps his belly. "You've got it. You see, life
isn't as simple for us. If one man gets it into his head that he can ignore
the guild's proper dues then others will start doing it.  Our whole economy
will collapse. So, it's in the good for all that this be done."

      I crouch on a stool, watching Talen and Olaf debate on exactly what
HIS meaning of 'good' and 'economic' are doing in the same sentence.  I'm
also amusing myself by watching the man's cheeks wobble as he talks. I find
it disgusting that someone could let himself go to suet. He must look
grotesque when naked. I know Talen feels the same way, because he worships
the fact that I have hardly any fat at all.

      Olaf looks at me and then dips his fingers in a bowl of greasy
chicken that's sitting in front of him. "Are you hungry?" he asks me.

      I shake my head.  "I just ate," I say politely.

      Olaf turns away muttering. That...and licking the grease from his
fingertips. "Birdseed.  I've a nephew that lives on birdseed.  He's as
skinny as a rail; lighter than a sack of turnips sopping wet out of a ditch
although you look more muscly than him.  Stupid, too."  He looks up from
his plate into Talen's bold eyes. "Not that skinny guys are stupid," he
says, "in regards to you two.  Even though most of them are..."  He
laughs. "If you want stupid, then look for blonds. On a windy day, their
heads make a sound like a conch horn."  He stops eating when he looks at
me.  "I mean women of course... blond women. Men are different."

      Talen interrupts him by holding a knife to his throat. "You've
managed to bore me with your conversation, suffer me through bad humor, and
insult my best friend in a matter of minutes. You are a man of some skill,
Olaf.  But, here's what it boils down to. Hunter and I want to get paid AND
paid well for this."

      Olaf gurgles and spits up some barbecue sauce. "You'll be paid the
standard ten gold crowns.  It's already settled."

      Talen nicks him over the Adam's apple. "We'll take a hundred a
piece."

      "That's monstr--"

      "What was that, my overweight friend?" Talen asks him.

      The fat guild master looks helpless. "What a splendid idea," he
states with both eyebrows raised. "I'm surprised I never thought of it
before."

      Talen backs away from him, and Olaf rubs his neck, checking for
blood. After he sees that he hasn't been seriously injured, he looks at us
both with caution. "I'll have your money tonight," he declares.  Then he
pushes his plate away. "I've lost my appetite. If you both will excuse me."
He rises and leaves the room somewhat hurriedly.

      Precisely at ten o'clock, we receive our sum of one-hundred gold
crowns a piece.  I congratulate Talen who's suiting-up for tonight's bug
hunt. I put on my black armor (which I call a killsuit) and rub weapon
black on my blade.  I darken around my eyes, and then pull a black mask
over my head.  Talen, who has dark hair, simply rubs black grease over his
face and hands.  The Enforcer's guild sends ten others with us. Talen and I
are going to retrieve the cask of ale. But they aren't giving us much
time. If I don't have the cask in-hand and outside in under fifteen minutes
the others are expected to start a fire.  We must be quick with this one,
or we'll find ourselves in a burning building.

      That's never a good thing.

      Shortly after eleven, Talen and I make our way down to the Cup and
the Dragon.  The Inn stands four stories high, and it's at the corner of a
busy intersection between By-Water Way and Killjoy Avenue.  It's closed for
the evening, the shop owner not wishing to take any chances with his
precious elven ale. Afterall, tomorrow he's expecting to fetch a nice
profit during a city-wide auction.

      Talen and I separate from the others and creep to the side of the
building with ease. There are four guards in black leather armor posted
outside the front door, but they've no idea that we're there.  I motion
Talen to scramble up the wall, and I follow his boots, jumping and gripping
onto numerous balconies and window sills that line the entire east side of
the building.  We decide to go in on the fourth floor.

      All of the windows have been boarded up and strung with bells from
the other side.  This poses a problem.

      I pry at one of the boards with a dagger, loosen the nails with oil,
and then muffle the squeak with my cloak.  Talen sticks a sheet of
parchment between the slats and lifts the string slowly.  Then, I pop the
board loose and slide it to the floor on the other side.

      Talen tells me to hold the string while he wiggles his way through
the opening.  I see that Talen's more of a contortionist than I originally
thought, even though I know from experience he's able to bend into a
variety of positions quite easily.

      He manages to pull his shoulders in slightly, enough for him to get
inside.  Once there, he catches his breath and takes down the bells.  Then,
we open up a second slat so that I can get in.

      "You'll have to teach me that," I say.

      "Not until you teach me how to use caasak," he replies.

      "Are you seriously going to harp on that?"

      He raises one eyebrow and winks at me. "Shh."

      Gods he's adorable.

      The inside of the hall we're standing in can best be described as
plush. A crimson carpet embroidered with black thread spreads before my
boots. I count ten doors in the hallway and toward the middle; a small
staircase descends into the inn. There's one ornate clock against the wall
with an etched crystal door.  On the inside, a golden pendulum swings
slowly back and forth.

      Talen takes the time. "It's fifteen to midnight.  That gives us a
little break, at least."

      I nod, agreeing with him.

      We walk down the corridor to the stairwell. There's a flickering
light emanating from down below, and I think it's coming from a recessed
sconce. I raise my finger telling Talen to slow as I creep down the stair
as silent as a cat stalking a mouse. I withdraw a small mirror and angle it
around the corner.  I spy two men about six feet in height. Both are
heavily-muscled and armed with short swords. The one on the left is wrapped
in leather armor.  The one on the right has a buckler on his left wrist.

      I put my mirror away and look up the stair to where Talen waits.  I
tell him in the silent cant to take the one on the left.

      I withdraw up the stair and remove a length of silk rope. Talen
follows my lead, pausing to fish around in his pants.  He withdraws a small
marble and lets it slip from his fingertips onto the carpet. It rolls its
way down the corridor to where the men stand guard.

      I can hear them whisper something to each other.  There follows a
shuffling of feet.

      The first walks into view a half second later, and he peeks up the
darkened stairwell with caution. Twice, his eyes move over me; I hold my
breath.

      Now, the second one shows his face.

      "Do you see anything?"

      "No," he replies. "But, I'm going to check it out." I see his grip
tighten around the hilt of his short sword, white knuckles flaring.  He
approaches, slowly making his way forward, waving his weapon in the dark
like a blind man's stick. When he's almost on top of me, I kick his weapon
aside and slide my rope around his neck.  I see a dagger, briefly, from one
corner of my eye. It sails past my head and plants with a thud in the other
guard's skull.

      He drops on the spot.

      Strangling the other guy about the throat, I'm having a bit of
trouble as he outweighs me by a hundred pounds.  He elbows me once in the
solar plexus, and it knocks the wind out of me. I manage to turn before he
can get me again, and drop him off the side of the stairwell, all the while
holding onto both ends of the rope for dear life. His own weight snaps his
neck.

      Talen helps me to hide the bodies in a third floor utility closet.

      While I catch my breath, he walks down the corridor and looks at the
next stairwell which descends further into the inn.  He motions for me to
reconnoiter, and I do, taking the same precautions as earlier.

      There are four guards I signal back to him. This is going to be a bit
more difficult.

      We decide to try the marble thing again.

      This time, both of us are ready with knives. I drop the one on the
left; Talen, the one on the right. Both of us leap onto the carpet while
the other two stand staring at us in shock.

      My opponent swings his sword wide, knocking over a tall candelabrum
of polished brass. It crashes to the floor, sending trails of molten wax
and fire a good two or three feet down the corridor.  I trap his blade with
my back and punch him three times to the face. I know I break his nose,
because there's suddenly blood everywhere.

      He grabs me by the chest and lifts me off of my feet, throwing me
against a wall, and into an expensive armoire.

      Talen doesn't fare much better.

      The guard makes a move toward me, but I surprise him when I leap to
my feet. I deflect his sword with a kick, breaking all the glass out in the
armoire that broke my fall only a moment before.  I kick down on his arm at
the elbow; I hear a loud snap.  He howls in pain once and pulls himself to
his feet.  Gods, he's tall!  He makes to grab me with his good hand, so I
move into him, punching him in the arm once again, grabbing his hand in a
wrist lock.  He cries out loudly and drops the sword on the ground. I kick
up with my heel and bloodied his face, dropping him with a loud wallop.

      There are others coming up the stairwell, now. I look back and see
Talen still fighting the other guard, and it looks like the guard is
winning.

      The thundering of feet grows closer.

                                   *****

      I shall post Chapter Eighteen next week.