The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Garrett Robinson (poetry books to read TXT) 📖

Beside me, Tou went rigid. My heart sank into my boots. The lieutenant had been sparring against Dibu nearly every day, sometimes for hours on end. He knew Dibu’s strengths and weaknesses. Dibu, meanwhile, had been too busy learning how to fight at all to study Tou specifically.

But as I looked to my right, my gaze fell upon Mag. To my surprise, she was fighting to suppress a smile. I wondered what under the sky could be going through her mind.

“And so we begin!” said Kun brightly. “Have you a favorite fighting ring, Dibu? I will let you choose, since I think most would agree you are the underdog.”

“I … do not, Captain,” said Dibu slowly. He nodded at Tou. “The bout may take place wherever you wish, Lieutenant.”

I expected to hear defeat in his voice, the apathy of knowing an unfavorable outcome before it arrives. But to my surprise, he sounded thoughtful, as though he was already trying to think his way through it. That lit a new spark of hope in me. It seemed Mag had been right about Dibu’s instincts, at least. I did not doubt that if Li had been chosen as our champion, she would merely be going through the motions now, convinced she could never win.

We proceeded to the nearest ring. Tou and Dibu traded their swords for practice blades. They spent a few moments at either end of the space, swinging the blades to get the balance. Dibu kept his eyes on his weapon and his shield, inspecting them closely, as though he might find the secret to victory in the grain of the wood or the dull shine of the steel. But Tou’s gaze was locked on Dibu, and his jaw kept working.

“Now, I expect you both to give your best effort,” said Kun loudly. “But of course, you are ordered not to cause each other any serious harm. You are both assets of the Mystics, after all, and therefore of the High King. Do not deprive her of a loyal sword arm, nor the soldier to wield it.”

“Of course, Captain,” said Dibu. Tou echoed him as if it were an afterthought.

“Well then,” said Kun. “Begin!”

Tou and Dibu stalked close, both turning slightly to the right so that they ended up circling each other. Slowly the circle shrank until they were a pace apart.

Dibu struck first, his sword arcing around in a powerful side swing. Tou deflected it with his shield. But Dibu seemed to expect it, bringing the blade back around and trying to hit his side. Tou’s blade was there to block it, and then he launched a counterattack.

Dibu blocked three strokes in a row, and he did not give ground, but held Tou off where he stood. My heart leaped as he went on the offensive again. Tou was the first to fall back one step. Then he pressed Dibu, who took two steps back.

Each blow clanged harder against shield or sword. Every swipe came faster. Gradually Tou stepped up his speed. But Dibu matched him blow for blow. His mouth was a grim, determined line.

Then Dibu did something I had never seen from him before, something Mag had not taught him. He launched forwards with his shield, which crashed against Tou’s. Tou held, but then Dibu’s leg swept out, kicking Tou’s feet from under him.

The Mystic fell to the ground. Our squadrons gave a great cheer.

But Tou did not lose his head. He rolled away quickly, and Dibu brought his sword down on the ground where he had been. It put Dibu ever so slightly off balance, giving Tou just enough time to regain his feet. Now his brilliant red cloak and black hair were soaked with mud, and he was breathing heavily.

I glanced at Kun, and I saw his smile turn icy.

“Enough, Tou!” he barked. “This is a test, not training. End it!”

Tou’s jaw clenched, and I felt my hopes plummet. He had treated this like a practice bout, gradually fighting harder to teach Dibu as much as possible. But he was a military man first and foremost. He would obey his captain’s order, and his captain had ordered him to win.

Tou lunged to attack. I heard a gasp ripple along our squadrons. Few among them had seen him unleash all his skill, but they could see it now. Every swing of his sword was as fast as blinking. He struck his shield against Dibu’s with every other stroke, knocking it aside, trying to find an opening.

Dibu was on the defensive now. Almost every blow forced him back. But whenever I feared he would step out of the ring, he sidestepped to keep himself inside. Every time, it gave him a new lane of retreat, more room to work.

I realized what he was doing. He was trying to tire Tou out. He knew he could not win an even match. But if he could hold off Tou’s attacks long enough, he might conserve enough energy to balance the odds.

Mag had been right. Not only was Dibu a natural fighter, but he was smarter than I had expected.

Yet his wits did not seem to be enough. Twice he almost went down as Tou battered his shield. The third time, Tou brought the edge of his shield against Dibu’s, cracking it down the middle. The next swing knocked the shield clean off Dibu’s arm, and he winced with pain.

Tou’s foot lashed out, catching Dibu in the gut. He stumbled back, dropping his sword a pace away. Even as he tripped, Tou caught him in the shoulder with the flat of his blade. Dibu’s padded armor held, but he cried out with pain as he spun and slammed face-first into the ground.

Without thinking, I clutched Mag’s arm (which was like seizing an iron bar). But when I looked at her, she still wore the smile she had had before.

“Wait,” she whispered.

I looked back just in time to see Tou glance at us. There