Chapter 5: The Threat

I know this took me awhile to get up but I was being a bad girl (or good girl depending on how you look at it) and writing on my other story. Anyhoo, like I said, review are really appreciated and let me know I'm loved... or hated, whatever.

Dilandau's grin widened as Gatti fell back into the defensive once more, weakening under his general's superior strength and skill. His crimson eyes were glazed with a blood lust that his soldiers knew all too well, and he showed no signs of tiring as he went through them right and left. They had been at this for hours and hours, Dilandau challenging each slayer in turn until finally only his second-in-command was left to defeat. And now he was defeating him too, though admittedly not as quickly as he had defeated the others.

His mind lazily searched for an opening, knowing he would find one sooner or later. It wasn't as if the enemy would find an opening on him; he was invincible—he would never be defeated, he would never be killed. He growled low in his throat as his blade pressed into Gatti's throat.

I yield, Sir.

Dilandau's smile disappeared as he realized he had no more people to fight. The rest had all been sent off to the infirmary; they had not been blocking to his satisfaction, and so he had taught them a lesson. His brow furrowed, scarlet eyes narrowed, and he roughly dismissed his subordinate.

It was unfair that a chit of a girl should be making him so angry. Women were below him, beneath him, by rights he should be giving her no more thought than he did any other slave in the world... And yet, there were times in the day where she would pop into his mind, like a virus that would not be squashed, reminding him of the threat she posed and the power she possessed that should not be hers.

He would never admit it to anybody, but her power scared him. Her ability to reach into the human consciousness and pick out whatever struck her fancy was a talent that could be useful, or dangerous. How long before she decided she didn't like being a slave? How long before she decided to work against those who had aided her? But a thought occurred to him, a happy thought, and the smirk that was his trademark appeared on his face once more. How long before he was permitted to kill her in defense of the Vione?

A small sound reached his ears, a soft footfall just outside the door to the training room. He drew his sword easily, reveling in the hiss of steel that greeted him as he released the metal once more from its prison. Perhaps it was a servant that would catch him off guard, perhaps he would get to have a little fun with the sickle he had recently acquired.

The door opened and Karina slipped in, shutting the door softly behind her. His smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared and a look of death came down over his pale face. He watched her from his dark corner of the room as she looked around with wide, curious eyes, eyes the color of storm, the color of destruction. He saw her eyes widened as they landed on his figure poised in battle readiness at the far end of the room.

Lord Dilandau. She said softly, bowing low. Lord Folken sent me to train with you, for—for self-defense. He words were slow, halting, as if she were unsure of herself, and his eyes glittered with amusement.

Very well. He said coldly. Grab a sword. He gestured to the walls where they hung, rows upon rows of swords, each slightly different. And he chuckled softly as she looked blankly up at them, her hand tentatively outstretched, as if ready to pick the first one she felt called to her.

Which one? She asked bluntly, after a moment of scanning the walls.

Dilandau cast her a look of disgust and stalked over to the wall. He looked at it for no more than a second before picking one of the heaviest hanging there and tossing it to her as if it weighed nothing. She caught it and to her credit didn't drop it, but he could see the trembling in her arms as she struggled to keep it lifted.

Now. I assume Folken wishes you to be able to defend yourself against anything? He asked shortly.

Those were his words. She confirmed, with an ironic smile he did not understand.

Then you must be able to defend yourself against me. Survive when I wish to kill you and you will survive anything. He told her, adding an edge to his already frightening voice.

A small well of fury began to boil within him as she raised an eyebrow, her face a perfect expression of skepticism. She wisely didn't say anything, however, and he refrained from acting on the impulse to decapitate her.

To begin we will start with the sword, and basic self-defense moves when an enemy is attacking you. He began, moving to the center of the floor and taking a fighting stance. I'm going to try to run you through, woman, and you must stop me.

He could see her face tighten at his name for her, but she dutifully took a fighting stance, copying what she could see of him, and gripped the sword a little tighter. All right. She said, her voice perfectly steady. Despite himself, he was a little impressed, but mostly annoyed.

With no warning at all he charged her, though he went slower than he would have normally and didn't actually try to run her through, and she managed a feeble block as the sword was pulled brutally from her hands. He turned around, looking down at her with disdain, and remained silent.

She glared up at him, as if her butterfingers had been his fault, and went to retrieve her sword. He could see a grim determination on her beautiful face, and he smiled at the thought of breaking her. Let us begin again. This time I will go more slowly so that you may properly block and keep hold of your sword.

Her mouth opened as if she were about to say something, but she shook her head, obviously suppressing it, and he raised an eyebrow. Would you like to say something, woman?

No, I wouldn't. Came the clipped reply.

But I saw you open your mouth as if you were going to speak and then you stopped. I would hate to let whatever you had to say go unheard. He said smoothly, his voice nearly dripping with sarcasm.

She began with a venomous smile. I was going to say that this is the dumbest thing I have ever done, first of all, and secondly that you are the most arrogant son of a bitch I've ever had the displeasure of meeting, and lastly that you gave be the heaviest bloody sword just to spite me.

There was a heavy silence in the air as she finished, one thick with anger, fear, and something else difficult to place. Dilandau was looking at her in a way most found disconcerting, and he could see it was beginning to have the anticipated effect on her as well.

In a flash of movement he was in front of her, his hand on her throat. He had her neck in a viselike grip and pushed her against the wall, letting her feel death so she would know how easily he could bring hers about. Listen up, woman. He ground out, his eyes angrier than even his dragon slayers had seen them. You are here for one reason and one reason only, and that is because we want you here. The second you become useless is the second I get to kill you. My way. He added with a grin.

And in case I haven't mentioned it yet. He continued in the same low, terrifying voice. I will not allow my slayers to be distracted by the likes of you, whore. He smiled again at the little sound she managed to get out through his unforgiving fingers, and went on. If I find that any of them are neglecting their duties for any reason at all, I will come to you, and I will kill you and I will have a hell of a lot of fun doing it.

His grip on her throat began to relax, and her hands flew to her throat, her lungs taking in huge gulps of air and her windpipe reopened. And in case you're wondering. He added slowly. My way of killing isn't the fast way.

He saw understanding spread over her face, followed by a hint of the fear he had seen on her face the other day, but it was soon replaced by defiance... the kind of defiance he valued in his own dragon slayers.

I understand. She said hoarsely, standing with as much dignity as somebody who has just been strangled can.

Good. Then let's continue.