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by Denine Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Book · Fantasy · #2312962
Epic fantasy! Completed book looking for reviews and advice! Please check it out
#1064292 added February 16, 2024 at 2:20pm
Restrictions: None
Chapter Eight: PLEASE REVIEW
CHAPTER EIGHT

Guinavev was…like none other Articus had met. It took him a while to pin it exactly, but once he figured it out, it became annoyingly obvious. The woman said what was on her mind and expected to get what she asked for, subtly of course. She even had a Reaper trained bodyguard that was at her sides at all times, something Nina had told him that was beyond expensive.

She… she was very blunt when it came to men she fancied too.

“Come, my darling soldier, tell me more of this Deshar,” Guinavev purred into Waylon’s ear as she threaded her arm through his playfully.

With the star-struck gone, Nina became acutely aware of her territory.

I almost pity him, Articus mused, almost. He was thoroughly enjoying his friend’s torture and he wasn’t the only one.

“I got a crown that says he doesn’t last twenty minutes before Nina spits nails,” Cedrick murmured behind flashy white teeth.

Articus held up a crown. “Make that ten minutes.”

Dylon looked from one grinning man to the other. Confused he asked, “What are you two beaming about?”

“Deal,” Cedrick nodded.

Growling lightly under his breath for being ignored, Dylon stalked passed Nina to Guinavev.

“Wait for it…” Articus said slowly--a knowing smile starting to form.

“Guinavev, I’d be honored if you allowed me to give you a tour of Tekal tomorrow,” the eager Caprian looked like a love struck puppy.

“Actually, I’ve already asked Waylon here,” the blond beauty said sweetly.

Nina’s shoulders shook violently.

“Wait for it…” Articus said again, this time his smile turning into a broad grin.

Cedrick looked from Dylon to Nina. “That blind son of a--”

Nina grabbed Waylon by the collar and almost pulled him back off his feet. “Waylon! You were supposed to be helping me with EM tomorrow! So a pretty girl in skirts smiles and you bend over backwards?! Men!”

Nina’s glare went from Waylon to Articus and then to Cedrick. “Why in the seven hells are you giving Articus a crown… Why are you all laughing? Stop laughing!”

Oh yes, they all--or maybe the right word was ‘mostly all’--were having a great time on their free day.



Guinavev led them along the strip until they reached the dock. Massive in size, the thing stretched a quarter of a league out into the bay. Almost every span of its length held a ship too. Articus could just make out the end of it, sectioned off for the fireworks. He had seen fireworks only twice in his life, which was more than most men Ce’lian men. In Ce’l, fireworks were treasured and only used during very rare occasions--like the crowning of a new Empress.

Guinavev’s apartment stood right across from the dock, atop a restaurant. Being on the Strip must have cost her a fortune but being right by the dock would have doubled that.

The aroma of the restaurant’s food was succulently pleasant as Guinavev led them up a staircase along side the eatery.

Brutus, her bodyguard, went ahead of them. Guinavev patiently waited until there were four paces between her and her guard before she followed him.

Articus turned a critical eye to the back of Brutus. He was experienced.

The man moved like a cat and there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him…’lean’ came to mind. About the same build as Articus, he shifted his weight evenly and readily. Articus knew Reapers were trained to kill but, since he had started living with them, he had the feeling that most of the killing was done by spirit, not sword. Why risk your neck when you can attack from afar where your prey isn’t expecting it?

His thoughts turned to Celia and why she had suddenly been so moody the day of the ‘siege.’ She had frozen during the attack and jumpy afterward. Articus knew it took a certain type of person to react the way he and Waylon had. It also took a lot more than a year or two of Reaper training.

“Have you had unexpected visitors before?” Articus asked as they topped the stairwell.

Guinavev looked at Brutus and shrugged. “Once I was attacked mistakenly at court. The assassin was meant for another blond Kalian--we apparently looked alike. When the assassin’s employer found out, he was so sorry about it that he paid for Brutus’s name and gave me him.”

Articus blinked. Paid for his name…he is her slave? And the employer admitted to the act?

Nina filled in the blanks for him. “Sending assassins against your opponent is another way of life. Alliances are always temporary. If an assassination isn’t successful, the assassin has to give his employer’s name, by Guild law, or the mercenary is killed.”

“They have a Guild for assassins?” Waylon asked incredulously from behind Nina.

“Well of course, we have a guild for everything.” Nina replied, as if everyone knew that.

“You are trained in the Game of Houses?” Guinavev asked with amusement, just before Brutus held the door open for them to enter. He had checked the room inside by the time they had reached the small landing.

Nina smiled sweetly. “Why--isn’t everyone?”

Touché.

Guinavev nodded her head as if thinking the same thing.

The apartment was larger then Articuss and had more rooms. She had not one but two waiting rooms, a guest bedroom, a master bedroom, a large common room, and a balcony that spanned the entire roof of the restaurant. It was enormous for being only a temporary lodging.

She ‘didn’t do inns.’

Leading them to the common room, she ordered her four slaves for wine and snacks before plopping herself down onto an oversized chair. Articus had become fond of the northern style of oversized and over-comfortable furniture.

As everyone took a seat, Dylon wandered to the far wall were a large corkboard hung. Five red circles were painted into the board like target-rings, the centermost the size of a thumbnail.

“You play Toss?” Dylon asked with a mischievous smile.

“A little,” Guinavev replied. Articus caught a hint of amusement in her voice and knew she played it frequently.

Getting back up, she strode over to the corner were a mini-bar was built out from the wall. Opening a wooden case, she produced eight throwing knives.

“Best out of three for twenty?” she asked sweetly.

Dylon hesitated at the well used knives. Cedrick laughed and tossed the rest of his allowance at her feet.

“You wish to play, Cedrick?” she asked a bit surprised.

“Me? Sorry, my dear. That’s my bet for Articus ‘cause his hands are itching.”

Nina looked at Cedrick, trying to see what he was doing. Turning from him, her eyes caught Waylon looking at the blond.

She tossed her purse in besides Cedrick’s. “It’s not like I have anything else to do. My wager for Articus as well.”

Articus stared at the two. Again with them assuming I want to do anything at all.

Muttering an oath he glared at the two. “I don’t even know how to play.”

“Deal!” Guinavev said hurriedly. Cedrick grinned at her before winking at Articus.

Yeah you better cut me in on the winnings, Articus thought as he glowered at the ox.

Of course he knew how to play, who didn’t? Hefting the two heavy purses, Guinavev peered into it and her eyebrows rose.

“You Reapers get paid well, I see. No matter. Here is how you play. Five rings, the one in the center is worth fifty points. From there it goes as such: twenty-five, ten, five, and one. If you hit anything on the outside, it is minus ten. Each player takes turns tossing the knives. If you happen to knock the other opponent’s knife then the opponent looses that point. Best out of three. Are you ready?”

Articus picked the four blades up and tested them for their balance. Flawless.

“Sure, who goes first?”

“Since you are new, I’ll give you the advantage. I’ll go first.”

Stepping back from behind the carpet she pointed with her toe. “Cross this during your toss and the toss is illegal.”

Eyeing the board for a few seconds, she hefted the blade back by its point before throwing it. It hit almost dead center.

Waylon made a low whistled, “Good luck with that one, Articus.” Nina elbowed him hard in the ribs.

Guinavev eyed the two privately behind a veil of blond hair. “Does he know how much she has her claws on him?” she murmured as she gave Articus room.

Cedrick, the only one of their group who had the advanced hearing so far, wiped a tear from his eyes as he held back the laughter. The man was actually growing purple.

“No,” he breathed, “he is as blind as Dylon.”

Laughing lightly, she stepped off to the side. Articus turned a critical eye to the board.

She was rushing things as he had hoped. Normally you wanted your last one or two tosses to hit the bull’s-eye since there wasn’t much room. If you went for the bull’s-eye every time, you were more likely to knock off your own blade. There was more strategy in it then most people realize. Aiming just inside the twenty-five mark, he tossed.

It flew straight and true, landing a hair above the circle.

“Damn, missed.”

Articus caught Cedrick from the corner of his eye, a knowing smile forming on his lips.

Taking the remark as face value, Guinavev cocked her knife back and threw, this time landing just outside the fifty mark. A clear miss. The idea was to hit just inside the line so your opponent is forced to attack from one side due to the fact that most people don’t want a lower score then they have to. Aimed correctly, one could dislodge their opponent’s knife easily since the cork was just deep enough to hold the knives.

Taking her miss in stride, she stepped aside for Articus.

Seeing an opening, Articus wasted no time in his next toss. It hit just above her previous toss and her knife dropped to the ground, giving him another fifty to his twenty-five. He knew he couldn’t keep up his charade for too long. He was up now by twenty-five.

Eyeing him suspiciously, she tossed hers and failed to dislodge his twenty-five. Tied. Taking his time on his next move, he tossed for another twenty-five. Up twenty-five.

Eyeing the board over, she too took her time. It was vital she dislodged his fifty right then. Hefting the blade, she made her toss. Sailing through the air with a reverse spin, it cleverly knocked his fifty off before landing dead center, nestling right next to her first toss. The move was a skillful one and Articus had to tread lightly if he won this round.

“Yes! Not even your beginner’s luck can beat that!”

She was up seventy-five and he had to somehow dislodge her dead center toss. It was an extremely hard thing to do since there was no angle to work with and the knife was, by some twisted fate, reinforced by her first toss such that they interlocked.

All four of his friends had risen at the last toss and they were now all watching Articus nervously.

“I think my luck will stay with me,” Articus said stubbornly.

The Kalian women laughed victoriously. “That’s nearly impossible.”

“Near but not completely impossible,” Articus replied patiently as he walked to the cork board to examine the two knives.

Very well placed.

“Well my southern friend, if by the Gods you do happen to pull this off…Why I’ll give you the game!” She laughed at the thought of it. Articus’s eyebrow arched and he sent a smile to Cedrick’s direction.

“Deal.”

Striding pass the carpet line he turned and tossed without hesitation. Whirling true, the blade struck the butt of the hilt of the first dagger that had loomed protectively over her last toss. Due to the newly added weight, the first dagger slowly dipped down and caught Guinavev’s last toss.

Slowly, and dramatically, all three throwing knives dropped to the floor, ringing with a deafening finality.

Pole-axed, Guinavev stared at the three daggers, mouth agape.

“Did he win?” Nina asked innocently. Rubbing salt on the wound.

Guinavev turned her stunned eyes to Articus, and then they suddenly narrowed. “I think I was just played like a flute.”

Cedrick roared with laughter and slowly everyone else joined in.



The food came and they all sat down relaxing as the day carried on. Talk turned to Tekal and Guinavev had enough questions to keep them busy as they waited for the fireworks.

As dinner came, their host led them out to her balcony were they all dined under the growing stars.

“So Reaper’s aren’t human?” She asked with surprise. Dylon had told her all the advantages of being a Reaper.

“No…” Dylon said slowly, looking to his companions for help.

“We are still human, just advanced,” Nina offered. Guinavev had stopped her unrelenting attacks on Waylon and the two were slowly becoming--well not friends but not enemies either.

Articus was taking a sip of his wine when his sixth sense went off.

Cursing he shot up, his da’kka out.

Out of instinct, Waylon and Cedrick were a heartbeat behind him. Waylon, eyeing the door behind Articus, said, “What is it?”

“Remember that feeling I was telling you about?” Articus said half-mindedly.

“Another attack?” Cedrick asked calmly just as Nina and Dylon were getting up.

It was nice to have two ex-soldiers with him. Calmness was a must.

Guinavev was the last to stand up and Brutus was at her side with a frown. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Waylon, door. Cedrick, Nina, to Guinavev.” Articus wasted no time as he rushed to the edge of the rooftop. Looking back up, he examined the edge of Guinavev’s rooftop. Nothing.

What the bloody hell is going on? Why another attack? Why now?

Articus tucked his questions away for another time. He watched Waylon stalk to the door and peer through it slowly. Using his right hand, he gave the ‘all clear’ sign.

Where are you?

Guinavev rolled her eyes at the three people surrounding her. Pushing passed them, she stalked to where Articus stood. He turned his attention to the alleyway below him and felt something.

Spirit?

“I demand to know what is going on. Feeling? Attack? Are you--”

Articus pushed her back as a bolt sailed upward from the alleyway below.

“BACK!” Articus roared as he did the opposite. It was the Vanguard in him and not his head that told him to charge. Leaping over the railing, he used the two walls around him as he descended the two stories.

Landing, he found two men and Reaper Reed. The Reaper was pinned against the wall by spirit from one of the men. The other one, the one closest to him, was reloading his crossbow. Normally it took a man some time to re-cock the tight bowstring back but the assassin was a Darkling. With one quick pull, he had the large crossbow cocked.

Rushing him with all his speed, he sent his shoulder into the man, knocking him off his feet, back toward his companion. All three of them slammed into the ground and Articus suddenly realized he had felt a surge of strength before he had jumped the Darkling.

Oh not again--not now! He had feared his awakening body would start ‘changing’ in the worst possible time, especially after his first fight with a Darkling.

“It’s him!” One of the men gasped just as Articus rolled off the two.

Turning, they… ran?

What the hell…

He was so shocked that he just stood there, watching the two full grown Darklings run.

“Nothing of your doing, I’m afraid, my boy,” came the amused voice of Nicolas from behind him. Turning, Articus found Nicolas with three other Reapers.

“We felt a strong spirit being woven near by. Seeing you, well I figured there had to be some Darkling about.” The Master Reaper laughed. “Can’t seem to stop saving people, eh? Reed, you okay?”

The rail thin man rubbed his neck before pushing his glasses farther up his nose.

“Yes,” the wiry man said as he adjusted his silk shirt. Then his eyes locked onto Articus.

“The boy almost got himself killed jumping out from nowhere like that. Where the hell did you come from anyways? Don’t tell me you learned to fly.”

Articus, who was by then thoroughly embarrassed, pointed upward where all his friends were peering down at them. Thinking back, Articus realized it was foolish for him to be engaged in not just one but two Darklings when he couldn’t even weave a thread of spirit… not to mention his dramatic entrance.

Whistling, Nicolas shook his head. “Bet they didn’t see that one coming. Come along Reed, you can tell me how you ended up with two Darkling’s on you. Don’t bother,” he said absently when Reed glared back to where the Darklings had fled. “They aren’t foolish enough to come back. Most likely they are a league away by now, fast little devils. Come on.” He waited until Reed sulked passed him before they turned for the alley’s mouth. Pausing, Nicolas turned back to Articus.

“Oh, and Articus…” He made sure he had Articus’s eye before continuing. “Next time yell out for help. Celia would have my head if you died before your three-hundredth Name Day, even if she has been cranky lately.”

He frowned right then and Articus recognized the disappointing look he had seen on many of the Reapers.

“Celia… Yes. I’ll have a talk with her about taking on your EM education. Obviously traditional methods aren’t working for you. Enjoy the night and try to stay out of trouble.”

As they were leaving, Articus heard Dylon say from above him, “Hurry back up here! The fireworks are starting!”

I swear he is twelve.
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