The Long Sought After and Requested Sixth Chapter of The Shielded Land (248 hits)
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Submitted by Registered_S_O (View user info) at 2008-04-03 00:57:43 EDT
Chapter 6
Minska leaned on his lath of blades as he recovered his breath. His entire body was drenched in sweat as the merciless afternoon sun, like some demon from the netherworld, beat down on his shirtless back. His perspiration dripped into a welt he had on his left side, stinging worse than the time a wasp had retaliated against him for coming to close to its domain. He wiped sweat from his brow, looking up at the two men a dozen feet in front of him.
Each man was shirtless as well, but with welts crisscrossing their muscled forms. Brown pants that ended just below knee level, along with matching brown boots, lent the two men, Evenig and Parsnig, twin brothers who looked nothing alike, a sort of uniform look. Minska had been practicing the sword with them for nearly fifteen minutes. Only Evenig had managed to get a hit on him, and only because Minska had stupidly dropped his defense for a moment to feint an attack against Parsnig. These two brothers were good, but Minska found that he was actually much better at swordplay then they were. He was consistently able to evade most of the twins' attacks while continuously landing successful blows of his own.
A small audience of twenty or so fellow Furyriders had stopped their own training in order to watch the spectacle that Minska was putting on. All of these men on the practice field that was used solely by the Queen's personal guards were good at handling weapons. Really good. Aside from Kosh and a few other more experienced soldiers, most of the men on this field couldn't last more than a few minutes against two of his fellow soldiers without being overwhelmed. Each man here spent nearly as much time practicing fighting as they did being on duty, which was quite a considerable amount of time Minska had unfortunately come to find out. These were men that were the best that Furylin had to offer, and Minska, an outsider, was more than holding his own against two of them.
"What's so interesting that you men think you deserve to slack off in order to watch?" Minska heard a familiar voice ask.
The men crowded behind Evenig and Parsnig parted to let training captain O'kel through. He was a man the size of one of the soldier statues back in the city with a complexion that made Minska wonder if he had been dipped in molten bronze. Like most of the men on the field, he was shirtless. What really made him stand out aside from his size and color were the multitude of scars that snaked around his body. Minska could tell that most of those injuries had occurred by the hand of those armed with swords, knives, and whips. Minska couldn't begin to imagine the brutal torture O'kel must have endured to earn such marks. His scars did effectively state that he had a will to survive that was beyond what most men had. And that there were people who disliked O'kel enough to cause such damage to him.
O'kel was one of the few who could handle more than one Furyrider. And he also hated Minska with a passion.
For reasons Minska couldn't begin to fathom, O'kel wanted him out of the Furyriders. During the past three weeks that Minska had been training with the other soldiers, O'kel had made clear his disdain for Minska. At first, Minska had thought O'kel was just testing this outsider to see if he was worthy of his new position. That notion had been quickly dispelled.
O'kel would order Minska to complete seemingly impossible tasks. Or he would submit Minska to tests of endurance that could lame most men. Minska finished any arduous task that O'kel would throw at him, usually amidst the cheers of his fellow soldiers. However, O'kel was never satisfied with Minska's performance. Minska could see in his eyes the pure hatred that O'kel held for him.
Staring now into those cold, brown eyes, Minska knew that soon he would have to do the impossible. Yet again.
"I see you are quite talented at swordplay," O'kel began, observing with contempt the welts that covered the twin brothers. "I think it's time for a challenge worthy of you prowess."
"You three." O'kel continued, turning to a group of soldiers on his left. "Join Evenig and Parsnig."
The three soldiers dipped their heads deferentially to their training captain, and immediately joined the twins.
"I want to see how truly skilled you are Minska." O'kel began, clasping his hands behind his back.
"Fight like you men are in danger of losing your lives. This battle doesn't end until either Minska is down, or the five of you are down."
By the smirk on O'kel's face, Minska guessed at what O'kel thought his odds were.
Minska continued to stand idly, outwardly calm, inwardly, emotions swirling around like the worst snows of winter. He knew that he stood to be hurt badly by this battle. He surveyed each face of the men he was about to face. Minska saw men that were ready for the task they had been handed. Minska had gained a reputation for his skills in sword fighting. Each man here knew that reputation well. He could see that while his five opponents respected him, they were confidant that their combined skill could overpower Minska. Minska himself wasn't entirely sure that their estimate was incorrect.
At this very moment, Minska was grateful for Mikalik's tutelage in the way of the sword. For as far back as Minska could remember, Mikalik had been training him to fight. When Minska was a boy, it had started out with lath swords, like the weapon he held now. Mikalik had taught him how to handle that weapon, how to make it a part of himself. Mikalik had begun his training with rudimentary forms of the sword.
As Minska grew older, Mikalik increased the intensity of his pupils training sessions. Mikalik's training had become far more strenuous, as well as enlightening. By his teen years, only Mikalik was a match for Minska. During Cyntha's annual festival, there were mock battles where the winners would receive prizes. Most of the young men in the city would participate. Minska always won against each of his fellow citizens.
When Minska reached young adulthood, his lessons continued to become harder. The swords made of tree branches Minska had grown so accustomed to became blades made of steel. Those steel swords represented a whole new, much more dangerous way to train. At first, Mikalik had gone easy on Minska. But as time went on and it became clear that Minska didn't need to be coddled, Mikalik incorporated more and more of his own skill into the sessions. Minska got to a level where he didn't need Mikalik to hold back. Granted, most times Mikalik was able to disarm his student, but not without a fight worthy of anyone who practiced the sword. Minska's ability eventually increased to where he was able to defeat Mikalik nearly half the time they battled. That was quite an accomplishment, considering how much more experience than him Mikalik had. Much more of an accomplishment than Mikalik capturing him in his own forest, Minska thought sadly.
"Begin!" O'kel hollered abruptly, locking his hate filled eyes on Minska.
Immediately, the five opponents began circling Minska, falling into their training. Minska stood there, the tip of his own weapon still buried in the dirt as he leaned on it. By the posturing of his enemies, he could tell that they weren't all going to rush him at once. Two, maybe three would attack first, the remaining soldiers poised to strike should the first wave not be enough. Despite the fact that these Furyriders were well trained, they lacked one thing: Mikalik as a teacher.
They thought numbers would be the deciding factor in this fight. Though they did respect Minska's fighting ability, they didn't understand it well enough. Today would be an eye opening day for quite a few people.
Evenig and Parsnig suddenly rushed Minska, along with a Furyrider that Minska didn't recognize. Fortunately for Minska, the stranger was slower than his two friends. Minska was far enough away from Evenig and Parsnig that he had the third soldier all to himself for a few moments. A few moments were all he was going to need.
With lightening speed, Minska rushed the stranger, bringing his sword to bear. Before the soldier could even begin to fall into a defensive position, the stranger in Furylin swung his blade, striking the man along his arms in three successive hits. The man was stunned for a moment as the pain of the newly forming welts began to shoot through his arms and shoulders. Taking one step back and spinning around, he used his momentum to strike the soldier across his chest.
The man crumpled, falling to one knee with the splintered remnants of Minska's sword raining down around him. Just as Minska realized that he was unarmed, his other two opponents were almost on him. Minska quickly squatted down, narrowly avoiding a swing by Parsnig, and grabbed his fallen enemies' blade from the ground. Minska parried a strike without looking, as he sidestepped around the downed soldier twice, putting the man between the twins and himself.
Evenig and Parsnig had to retract their weapons quickly in order to avoid striking their companion because Minska got away from them quicker then they thought possible. The twin brothers had to step awkwardly in order to redirect their attack. That split second they were off balance was enough for Minska.
Minska sidestepped again, this time coming to the right of his first victim who finally fell face down in the dirt. Minska redirected his momentum, raising his sword high for an overhead strike. In that infinitesimal moment that Evenig saw the danger represented by Minska, Minska knew that he had his man. Even as Evenig attempted to bring his sword up in a vain try at deflecting the oncoming slash, Minska brought his weapon down, striking the back of Evenig's head.
The impact of weapon on skull caused several soldiers in the audience to wince. They had had similar encounters with Minska at one point or another. Parsnig let out a mighty battle cry at seeing his brother felled by Minska's attack. He stepped to the left, swinging his sword with the intention of catching Minska on a reverse slash. Without warning, the other two soldiers jumped into action, rushing Minska from behind. Minska rolled forward, underneath Parsnig's swing as it cut the air just above his head.
Minska came to his feet, darting straight for Parsnig before he had a chance to complete his reverse slash. He swung his blade, connecting a brutal hit against the side of Parsnig's ribs. Minska quickly swung again and again, striking Parsnig several times. As Parsnig dropped, the other two Furyriders reached Minska, attacking him from the left and right.
Minska straightened and turned slightly in the center of their downward chop, pressing his arms close to his sides. Minska held perfectly still as his enemies' swords whistled down the length of him, dangerously close yet not touching him. By the low whistling he heard from a few of the soldiers watching, Minska realized he had just done something quite impressive.
He threw his sword into the air, catching it in a reverse grip. With all the power that he had, he smashed its pommel into the face of an attacker who was lunging for him, breaking the man's nose.
As his final opponent brought his sword up, preparing for a downward chop that would surely incapacitate Minska, Minska spun, firing a kick at the soldier's face. The heel of Minska's boot connected to his enemy's forehead with such force that he tumbled back. The man was already unconscious when he stopped rolling backwards.
Minska stood there, panting as his angry glare swept both the men on the ground and the men in the audience. He made eye contact with O'kel, at that moment hoping he would step in and challenge him. O'kel returned that look in kind, but didn't step forward.
"Very impressive Minska." he said with menace in voice, turning his back and striding away from the practice field, never giving Minska a second look.
Several of the spectators approached their fallen comrades, helping the ones regaining consciousness back to their feet. Two of the soldiers Minska had defeated had to be carried off the field. Soon Minska was alone, still agitated from his battle. He had held back against Evenig and Parsnig because he knew those two brothers weren't like his other three opponents who shared O'kel's fervent beliefs and hatreds. He wiped sweat from his brow as the sun was just beginning its downward descent.
Minska didn't feel much like practicing anymore. He threw his weapon down and went to retrieve his shirt that he had left in a nearby copse of trees. The exhausted Furyrider stood there for a moment, an unexpected bout of despair overtaking him.
Minska had been in Furylin for three weeks, and thought they he may very well go insane. It wasn't just the isolation from the outside world that nagged at him. It was the not knowing. Had Mikalik escaped his pursuers? Was his mother safe? Did anyone from Cyntha make it to Kyvil safely? These questions and many more were always in his head.
Minska had spent most of his days since coming to Furylin being a good Furyrider as far as the queen knew. He would spend his daytime hours either practicing combat with the other soldiers or on duty in the castle or in the surrounding city. Several times since he had joined active duty, he had been summoned for personal audiences with the queen. Those nights spent in her audience chamber usually consisted of his telling her tales of his time in the outside world. The only thing that entertained her more than hearing about the outside was making thinly veiled comments that let Minska know he could get to know the queen much more intimately if he so chose to. He never so chose to.
Minska would always dodge her advances quite elegantly; either by appealing to her ego, or making up some customs from his homeland that would make it impossible for him to proceed further with Amber without first completing tasks that could only be done back home.
Always, Queen Amber acted as if she was just a girl years away from entering womanhood. She would giggle at most of what Minska told her of himself, whether it was something funny or not. Minska felt a small pang of sympathy for the inhabitants of this kingdom. Birth dictated who would rule next, not ability.
Minska shook his head at the idiocy of his situation as he made his way back to his room in the tower reserved only for those completely faithful to the queen. Mikalik would have already died of laughter.
User Reviews
Submitted by Registered_S_O (user info) at 2008-04-04 23:16:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2008-04-04 13:43:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
By and large I agree with what Orphelia and Adam said...the wasp line bothered me too, probably because a wasp sting shouldn't really be more painful than getting hit by a large man with a stick.
Overall though, it's a nice little addition. It was good to get a little explanation as to how Minska is such a good swordsman.
I sometimes throw things in there that I really shouldn't. Fuck wasps. I wanted to get a little simile in there, but fuck similes as well. I have chapter 7 I have to type up. The 8 I will start writing. I think 8 will actually be what 6 should have have. So its like chapter 6 is seven, chapter 7 is eight, and so on. Oh well probably will do it for Monday. Thanks thecaes.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2008-04-04 13:43:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
By and large I agree with what Orphelia and Adam said...the wasp line bothered me too, probably because a wasp sting shouldn't really be more painful than getting hit by a large man with a stick.
Overall though, it's a nice little addition. It was good to get a little explanation as to how Minska is such a good swordsman.
Submitted by Registered_S_O (user info) at 2008-04-03 11:57:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by orph (user info) at 2008-04-03 07:11:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm going to give this a 2, but the constant use of names where a 'he' or 'his' would suffice is really offputting. I know you are trying to identify each of the characters with their own actions, lest it become confusing, but this is killing the story.
orph, aside from some really great comments by people here (especially thecaes) that observation has really helped me. Keep in mind these are just drafts. I plan to continue to tone that down. As I fie tune the story and flesh it out, I will get more ad more of the names out.
Submitted by Ltap (user info) at 2008-04-03 11:22:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
This shitty series annoys me, and so do your character names - seriously, Parsnig?
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2008-04-03 11:11:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
excellent as usual?
no need to read the rest then if this is 'usual'.
People see long blocks of text, +2 it and move along.
I doubt more than 5 people read it properly.
Fucking wasp.
Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2008-04-03 10:39:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
Minska was used over 90 times in what might be a three page story.
Also, your use, of commas, is terrible.
Lastly, lines like "His perspiration dripped into a welt he had on his left side, stinging worse than the time a wasp had retaliated against him for coming to close to its domain" are terrible.
I get that you want to illustrate the sting, but that line makes me want to build a time machine, find you as a child and throw you in the microwave for 10 minutes.
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2008-04-03 10:07:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by cat_head (user info) at 2008-04-03 08:12:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
This highlights the difference between SF and fantasy writing. The latter contains an irritating abundance of ridiculous made-up names.
Well written, but come on - get over yourself. Isn't there some fantasy forum where you can post this stuff?
Submitted by orph (user info) at 2008-04-03 07:11:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm going to give this a 2, but the constant use of names where a 'he' or 'his' would suffice is really offputting. I know you are trying to identify each of the characters with their own actions, lest it become confusing, but this is killing the story.
Submitted by HurtByTheSun (user info) at 2008-04-03 06:20:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent, as usual.
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2008-04-03 03:40:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment