Beyond the Shadows - Brent Weeks [38]
The vir sang power and hatred and strength. It is vile, and I love it.
He stopped screaming, and it was long seconds before the sound stopped echoing back from the Citadel’s halls. Dorian quieted the vir from his skin with effort. “Are you all right?”
Jenine’s big, beautiful eyes were wider than he’d ever seen them. She tried to speak, couldn’t, and nodded instead.
“I’m sorry,” Dorian said. “It was that or die. We’re almost there.”
But as they stepped through the now-smoking gate, Dorian saw that he was wrong. Halfway across the glowing spans of Luxbridge was a man in a majestic white ermine cloak like Garoth Ursuul had worn. He wore the gold chains of a Godking around his neck and vir swam on his skin.
Dorian’s brother Paerik Ursuul had come to claim his throne, and blocking the bridge with him stood six full Vürdmeisters.
17
On the third night, after they made it through Forglin’s Pass and set up camp, Dehvi finally spoke to Vi. “Let us train together, wetboy.”
“I’m not a wetboy,” Vi said quickly.
“You were Hu Gibbet’s apprentice.”
Vi’s mouth dried up. “Yes.” The very name brought back ugly memories.
Dehvi drew a pair of sais. “The Night Angel did kill him.”
“I know. I couldn’t be happier.” Vi wished she’d had the guts to do it herself.
The smile faded into puzzlement. “You seek no vengeance?”
“I’ve fucked men for smaller favors. I wanted to kill Hu since I was thirteen.”
Dehvi scowled. “Too much talk.” He bent over Vi’s bedroll where she had put her sword. He poked the point of one sai at the juncture of blade and hilt and flicked her sword to her. She caught it and tested the edge. It was blunted with a thin shield of magic, but a strong blow would still cut. Dehvi checked all six points of his sais. Vi had never fought against sais. A sai looked like a short sword with a narrow blade, except that the hilts swept in a broad U for catching blades. Each tine was sharpened.
Holding the sais in one hand, Dehvi removed his horsehide cloak and draped it over a rock. Vi followed suit reluctantly. Then Dehvi turned, bowed, said something incomprehensible in Ymmuri, spun the sais in his hands, and took an impossibly low ready stance.
Vi’s doubts about such a low stance were broken at the first clash. She lunged toward his face. He nearly leapt forward, catching her sword with one sai and then the other and twisting as he sprang like a snake. Vi’s sword spun from her grasp and she found a sai touching her throat while the other jabbed the small of her back. Dehvi’s face was impassive. He stepped back wordlessly and flicked her blade back to her.
She lasted fifteen seconds the second time, and didn’t lose her blade, though Dehvi twisted it far out of the way and touched her ribs with the other sai. After a few minutes, she was beginning to understand. Then Dehvi changed stances. He sidestepped her first cut, not even using the sais, and swept her feet out from under her.
She pulled herself out of the mud and found him grinning. Hu Gibbet had leered at her sometimes, and mocked her often, but Dehvi’s grin was innocent. It suggested that if she could see herself, she’d laugh too.
Suddenly, she was crying, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. Dehvi gave her the look she deserved: utter bewilderment. She laughed at the ridiculousness of it, rubbing her tears away. “Hu shit on everything, Dehvi. Every time he trained me, it was all mockery and bruises and humiliation. For fuck’s sake, this is actually fun. And I’m learning so much more from you. You’re better than he ever was. No wonder you kick ass.”
“Asses I have kicked,” Dehvi said. “Though finding them less sensitive than other places.”
Vi laughed and blinked her eyes to keep that bizarre flood down.
“You did marry in Waeddryner way,” Dehvi said. He tugged his own ear to indicate her earring. “But are not Waeddryner. Who is husband?”
Well, that helped with the crying. She cleared her throat. “Kylar Stern.