by Amber Lafoy

Created on: January 21, 2010

Anizell and Aubrey gave each other a conspiratorial glance. “Fight, watch and wait boy” Aubrey whispered, Anizell only returned a slight wink. They would blindly trust each other's skill until they could create an opportunity to escape. This plan went unspoken but they were of the same spirit and they read each other's eyes the way the mundane read words written in the sand. What they read was mutually reassuring and at the same time intriguing. Aubrey picked up a sword by the point and flipped it in the air. The grip came to rest perfectly in her hand and she felt the awakening, the life giving and life taking weight flow from the cold steel and chill her heart. Playfully she asked “would you like a little taste of me boy, to play with me with steel?’ Anizell smirked and silently nodded, never taking his eyes off hers. The hard coldness in her heart coexisted now with a soft burning heat low in her belly. Aubrey opened the game with a short, quick trust towards Anizell’s chest.

*

The old man sitting back at the cave heard the clash of swords. He knew all too well what was going on. “Damn!” he said to himself. “I thought I would have a little bit more time than this.” He stood up. He knew that this time his intervention would have to be more direct and dramatic. Truths would and maybe a lie or two if it came to it. He held his arms in the air. A gust of wind entered the opening of the cave at near hurricane force. The old man begin to change into a tall, well built man with hair as black as night, eyes made of a very light crystal blue. His worn rags changed to a black pair of jeans, t-shirt, black boots with a long trench coat. In his left hand was a sword and he wore a Desert Eagle .44 Auto Mag holstered in a shoulder rig. He smiled at himself and stroked the pistol.  “I missed you so much my little darling.” He began to laugh and said “Well let’s go get this thing done.” With a wave of his hand he became the wind.

Aubrey’s arms were tired from tired from fifteen minutes of sword play. With one stroke she connected the swords together and whispered “Have you thought of anything yet?” Anizell shook his head and pushed her away. Bennett’s men began to boo and Bennett was growing restless. With one flick of his hand an archer loosed an arrow that hit Aubrey in the thigh, grounding her amid her own fresh, hot blood. The crowed began to cheer and

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