Rise of the Blade - Charles Moffat [9]
"I spend too much time with Rambertz," Pierce muttered to himself, recognizing the cry of a loon coming from the direction of the small pond in the south-east corner of the grounds. He had become attached to his druid friend over the summer and a week didn't pass that Pierce could not be found out in the orchard talking philosophy with the secretive druid.
On a whim, the retired adventurer went out to the balcony and opened the glass doors as he stepped outside. He instantly caught the distant, yet distinct sound of blades crossing. The students should all be in the dormitory which meant only one thing.
The orchard of the Academy's grounds was a favourite spot for a midnight jousting match, the moon's white light filtering down with an almost magical feeling. Two youths fought back and forth fiercily, a pair of blades flashing in the cool autumn air, their movements only broken by the sharp sounds of metal scraping on metal and their breathing and stress an enjoyment. They had never felt more alive.
The two youths broke apart for a moment, breathing heavily. A rustle in the leaves off to the side alerted the two and they turned to face the shadows, blades posed before them. It was against the rules to fight without a referee on the basis that a fight can get very personal and pass beyond a simple joust, and they were certainly breaking the rules.
The grizzled face of an old gardener appeared out of the darkness, carrying a rake. "Ye lads shouldn't be out here ye know! 'gainst thee rules!" He brandished the rake at them. "I oughta teach ye yipper snappers a lesson!"
"Bring it on old man!" replied Mitch and bared his blade confidently.
The old gardener smiled, twirled his rake, and swung slowly. Mitch parried easily and the blade caught the rake between its teeth. The student suddenly found himself without a weapon, whereas the gardener now advanced with both a rake and a sword.
"What the-?" cried Brek, desperately trying to parry off the combined attacks of both sword and rack, only to lose his weapon in a similar fashion. His blade flew up in the air, and fell twirling in the light.
To land easily in the hand of the elven mage Marque Draque. "Lads, do you have any idea what Pierce would do if he caught the two of you out here? You know its against the rules!"
Mitch stammered a reply about his father being a wealthy merchant to which the elf answered by levelling a blade at the student's neck. "Doctor Pierce is no fool, and doesn't take bribes, bantling!" He spat on the ground. "He doesn't give a damn about money and you'd be wise to learn the same."
Brek looked at Mitch and the pained expression that flashed between their eyes was clear and simple: They were going to get a speech. Brek wished he had an egg timer on him.
"Listen lads, when I was your age, which was quite some time ago since I'm an elf, I was all hyped up about adventuring too! I wanted to go out and make a fortune killing dragons! But I'll tell ye frankly, I have never met any man who can single handedly take down a dragon with a weapon. It takes team work." He grinned and clapped both lads on the backs, leading them away. Both winced when they learned the elf was stronger than he looked. "Or a really big fireball," he added.
They walked past an elm tree and turned onto the cobble walkway leading to the barracks in the north wing. "But that's besides the point! I learned very young that magic in general is meant for long distant fighting. You can't throw an ol' fireball at a guy five feet away unless you want to be roasted too! Thus, I became a rarity amongst elves: a fighter and a mage. A master of both trades." A cigar floated up out of his pocket, lit and he took a quick puff. He let go of the youths and opened the door to the barracks. "In you go you damn bantling!"
They hurried in, not sure what to expect next.
"By the way, I will confide with you two that I also became a master in a different trade." The elf smiled and held up their belts. "I'm quite the thief!" With