Zornhut: Chapter 8
Author's note: Zornhut, or Guard of Wrath, is one of the main guard positions in medieval sword techniques. Also, I've opted for the game's default name for the tactician, Mark.
Hector padded off to Merlinus' tent, where the practice weapons were stored. Someone--probably Merlinus himself--had already thoughtfully arranged the weapons on a rack just next to tent, for it was normal for some of the company to hold sparring bouts with each other whenever they had free time. The Ostian lordling selected one of the axes and gave it a quick inspectory glance.
The head of the weapon was made from iron; the axe blade was blunted, and was balanced by the maillet, a hammer-like attachment on the other side of the head. The whole component was fixed to the wooden shaft with metal bolts. The shaft itself was roughly half a man's height and was fitted with languets--long strips of steel running down the shaft from the head on all sides, meant to strengthen the wooden shaft and protect it from damage.
Hector retrieved another axe from the rack, one identical to the axe he held, and gave that to Raven. The mercenary hefted the weapon in his hands, testing its weight and balance before he nodded in approval. "Ready?" Hector asked.
"Yes, milord."
The two men then moved on to the clearing, attracting the attention of the rest of the company as they passed by. By the time they reached the area almost half of the troops lagged behind them, undoubtedly curious and a little more than excited at the prospects of witnessing a practice bout between one of their leaders and one of their own. There was still enough light for both men to spar; even though it would get darker eventually, the light from the main campfire would be more than enough to compensate.
Hector stepped into the middle of the clearing, while Raven stood before him. The mercenary moved into a guard position, smoothly putting his right leg forward, knees slightly bent, with his axe held slightly low on his left side. While Hector was never properly instructed in the axe and had learned its use in the arenas and assorted bouts, the Ostian lordling knew enough from facing previous opponents to recognise someone who had received formal training, and Raven was clearly was one such person.
This ought to be interesting.
"Don't hold back on my account," Hector said, grinning.
"I won't, milord."
Hector mirrored Raven's stance and slowly nodded once to signal that he was ready. The mercenary returned the gesture, and only a brief moment passed before he immediately rushed in with a blow, aiming the hammer end of his weapon at Hector's neck. A little bit surprised, for he never expected Raven to deal the first blow, Hector barely sidestepped away in time to dodge the attack.
He retaliated with a downward swing aimed at Raven's shoulder, but the mercenary moved into a ward position; when the axes made contact on the wooden shaft, Raven stepped forward and pushed hard with his arms fully extended, hoping to disarm Hector.
Hector braced most of his weight on his back foot and held his ground. When Raven realised that his opponent would not budge and he was in danger of losing his own weapon, he quickly stepped back and moved into a lower guard position, catching his breath. Hector did not waste any time and feinted a one-handed cut to Raven's left side; the mercenary responded by moving his axe to block the attack, but was surprised when Hector altered the blow in mid-swing so it aimed for his shoulder.
The mercenary just had enough time to dodge, and immediately countered with a wild swing that was meant to make Hector back off for a moment, rather than a real attack. Hector noted that Raven's eyes narrowed slightly, indicating that the man was not too pleased with how this sparring round was going.
Hector decided that they were surprisingly quite well-matched; while Hector clearly had the upper hand in terms of strength and experience, what Raven lacked in those areas he made up for in speed and technique. His swift footwork allowed him to dodge the blows directed at him and thanks to his formal training, he knew when and how exactly to deal with the attacks he couldn't dodge, stopping the blows with the steel-protected shaft of his axe.
Hector had never had this much fun in weeks.
They continued to trade blows, and with each attack and parry, Hector learned more about Raven's skills. The mercenary clearly knew all the guards, wards and counters, but his attacks were limited to a few basic moves--obviously he was not familiar enough with the axe to go beyond the set routines he was taught just yet.
Let's see how he deals with something a little more unorthodox.
Hector feinted a downward attack aimed at the man's right leg; as he expected, Raven brought his axe up to meet the blow. Timing it just right, Hector hooked his axe against Raven's own and tugged it upwards, wanting to knock the weapon out of the mercenary's hands.
Hector had not expected Raven to release one hand from his grip on his axe, and for the man to rush forward.
He definitely had not anticipated the punch to his jaw either.
Hector staggered slightly under the blow, and that moment of distraction was long enough for Raven to step back and unhook his weapon from Hector's. However, the Ostian lordling quickly recovered and before Raven could take advantage of the situation, launched into a rapid sequence of swings and jabs, forcing the mercenary to move back into a more defensive stance.
Good thing he does not wear vambraces.
"Very good," Hector said, grinning as he rubbed his sore jaw with one hand.
"I learn fast," Raven said in reply; Hector's grin grew slightly wider.
Dropped the 'milord' there. If he was holding back before, he sure isn't now.
Raven moved in to attack with a quick jab; instead of simply dodging away or meeting the blow with his own axe, Hector decided on using a counter he had learned in the arena some time ago. Gripping his axe with his right hand, he timed the blow so he deflected the attack with his own weapon, at the same time bringing his left arm up to grab Raven's left wrist. Hector took a huge step back and dragged the mercenary along with him; then he quickly moved one step to his left as he pushed their locked weapons sharply to the right, forcing Raven to lose his balance, and to either release his grip on his axe or risk breaking his wrist.
The axe fell to the ground and its owner followed a moment after, landing on the grass on his side with a thud. Raven turned so he was flat on his back, and looked up only to find Hector's weapon pointed at his neck.
"Not bad," Hector said, panting slightly, "not bad at all." The Ostian lordling moved his weapon away and extended his hand, offering to help the other man to stand.
Raven glared at the offered hand, and for a moment Hector thought that the mercenary would just slap his hand aside, and thus reinforcing the idea the man did in fact hold a grudge of sorts against him. Instead, Raven simply ignored the offered assistance and got up on his own, brushing his clothes as he did.
Hector relaxed slightly. "Thank you for the round."
The reply was almost a growl; there was still that touch of hostility in the mercenary's voice, but the other man had nothing more than an annoyed scowl on his face. "Thank you for the lesson, milord." Raven turned and stormed off; the crowd moved aside to make way for the mercenary.
"Was that really necessary?" Oswin asked when Hector moved away from the clearing.
Hector shrugged. "I just wanted to know a few things about him. And you know how soldiers are, Oswin," he said, "especially hired swords like him. You can never learn anything about them, except in a good fight." He absently rubbed his jaw before he winced slightly.
"And?"
"He's just a proud one, that lad--stubborn too." Hector started back for his tent, Oswin trailing behind him. "At first I thought he holds something against me, but now I think I know better. Just one of those men who gets annoyed when he finds someone better at something he does, for he's used to being the best."
Hector did not know that he was only half right.
---
Raven stormed away from the camp, giving Wil a vicious look in warning when the archer tried to follow him. The younger man gulped and stopped in his tracks, his sense of self-preservation greater than his worry for the mercenary.
Raven knew without looking over his shoulder that someone had chosen not to follow Wil's example; judging by the sound of footsteps, the man was trailing not far behind. "Leave me alone, Lucius."
"But--" the monk began, but Raven did not give him a chance to finish.
"Leave me be!"
"As you wish, Lord Raven." The monk sounded hurt, but Raven was not quite in the mood at the moment to be concerned with feelings other than that of his own.
Once he judged that he was far enough from the camp, he gave in to the need to release his anger and frustration. He curled his right hand into a fist and punched the nearest tree, sending bits of loose bark into the air. He repeated this a few more times before the pain finally registered when his thoughts had calmed somewhat.
Raven crossed his arms and leaned against the tree, frowning. He was unaccustomed to losing; to be defeated in a bout--even a practice one--was a mark against his pride in his own skills. To be defeated by Hector of all people was aggravating, but it was not the main reason why he was so angry.
What really angered him was the fact that while he had not held back one bit during that bout, he could tell that Hector did. As much as Raven hated to admit it, the other man's skills was far greater than his own. Before the sparring round, he had the notion of simply killing Hector when this campaign ended; the plan was simple--he would just play the part of the hired sword and do whatever he was told and bide his time, but in the end, he would kill Hector in a battle and have his revenge on House Ostia.
Now he was not too sure. Even with the magical crest enhancing his abilities, he could not best Hector in a fight. And now that he was thinking more clearly, he also knew and reluctantly admitted to himself that even if he did manage to drastically improve his swordplay, another duel with Hector would likely bear the same result as tonight.
He needed a new plan. Since he had doubts of his chances in combat against Hector, only one other option came to his mind.
Assassination.
Part of him utterly loathed the very thought of it; an attack without warning, a quick sword-thrust in the dark--it went against the very core of all that he was taught. But another tiny part of him reminded himself that while the act was not honourable in any way, he had certainly found nothing honourable in the manner of his parents' death. House Ostia had killed them, and he was going to make them pay.
Raven considered the idea; it certainly seemed simple enough to execute. All he had to do was slip inside Hector's tent while the lordling was unarmed and occupied, or asleep, and finish the man off. However, what was he going to do when the deed was done? He could just slip away in the night, but what of the people he would leave behind--Lucius and Priscilla? He could not say whether their safety was guaranteed.
No, assassination was not a suitable alternative at all, he decided, feeling slightly relieved. He was not too comfortable with the idea to begin with, and the possible consequences to the act were not to his liking. He would just have to find another way to settle his score.
"Damn it all!" he swore as he turned around, and gave the tree another blow with his fist. He hit it a few more times before he decided that it was time for him to go back to the camp.
He was not too worried about storming off in the first place, for sometimes a few of the members of the party got carried away in sparring rounds and had done the same in order to calm themselves and relieve their frustration--although he was doubtful if they had indulged in destroying trees as he did. He had not gone long, but it was probably better to start back anyway, just in case anyone got curious.
He would just have to think of another plan of action in the morning. Right now his hand was starting to hurt.
