Valor and Violence

“Anyone know her?” Olic asked. Asim shook his head while the rest stood, dumbfounded. Olic sighed, swore, and drew his sword.

“How rude,” the woman said. Her smile grew as she stared at Olic’s blade, and something about it put Calris on edge.

She was short, about the same height as Ban or Mouse, and very slight of build. Her hair was shockingly white, shaved close against her head on the left side with a long fringe drawn down to the right of her chin and, when she spoke, she had the lilting accent found only in the northernmost reaches of Calandor, near the border with Skjar.

Her steel-grey eyes were cold, and as they passed over Calris, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. She wore the dark leather of a Guild Assassin, but unlike the men they fought in Salazaar, she sported a variety of brassy globes and short metal pipes attached to numerous slings and belts.

The pipes were set into intricately carved wooden handles inlaid with more brass, with strange metal protrusions at their rear and underneath the base. Strapped across her back was a longer pipe, about three feet long, and around her neck hung a multitude of charms suspended from thin leather cords. They looked concerningly similar to the one Calris had taken from the incinerated Aderathian assassin a few days ago. He assumed the pipes and globes were more than decorative, but had no clue what they did. They were unlike anything he had seen before.

“Get ready, Ban,” Calris said, unsheathing his sword. She didn’t look like much, but he had learned recently not to judge dangerous books by their innocuous covers. When Ban didn’t reply, Calris turned to look at his friend.

Oh, no.

He was staring, slack jawed, at the woman.

“Ban!” Calris shouted, startling the other marine from his daze.

“Stop yelling, I heard you! I think we are getting ahead of ourselves, though. She could be friendly?” he asked.

“Awww, aren’t you the cutest?” she said, laughing. If she had been close enough, she probably would have tweaked Ban’s cheek. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“Ban! Pleasure to meet you miss…?”

“Elizabeth. But you can call me Eliza,” she replied with a wink.

“What a lovely name,” Ban said, taking a step towards her. “I apologise for the behaviour of my colleagues, but I’m sure we can clear this up, Miss Eliza.”

“I’m afraid not gorgeous. Your friends are right,” she said, drawing a pipe and pointing it at him. “Though I would prefer not to have to kill someone as adorable as yourself. So, tell me, where is the artefact? It’s not in the crate back there.”

Silence descended on the party as the marines eyed the strange woman and her gadgets.

“Why are the sexy ones always either evil or crazy?” Ban asked, crestfallen.

“Baby, believe me. I’m both. Where is it?”

“I’m afraid we can’t tell you that, Eliza.”

“Shame,” she replied, closing one eye and levelling the pipe at his chest.

Calris wasn’t sure what instinct made him move, but he was glad he did, tackling Ban to the ground as an explosive crack rang out, followed by a dull thump as something moving incredibly fast passed overhead. He was back on his feet in a second, pumping his legs to close the distance with the others close behind. Elizabeth threw her head back in a raucous laugh, then ran and kicked off a wall, cartwheeling through the air to land atop another, lobbing a metal globe at Calris in mid-air. The globe hit the ground in front of him, bounced once, then rolled to a stop.

That’s not good.

A magical detonation of flame launched Calris through the air. He crunched against a wall and landed hard, eliciting a sickening sound from his ribs as the air went out of his lungs. Through the pain, he was dimly aware of the sergeant landing in a crumpled heap beside him. The veteran didn’t groan or even move, and Calris prayed he was just unconscious.

Gasping for air and clutching his hand to his chest, he looked up to see Elizabeth jumping from wall to wall, effortlessly evading Mouse’s knives as she closed on the marine. When she was a few feet away, she launched herself, spinning and lashing a heel into Mouse’s jaw. She dropped like a proverbial sack.

Elizabeth aimed another pipe at Mouse’s prone body, finger curled over the metal protrusion underneath it, but before she could pull it, Badger’s hammer spun through the air at her head. She danced back at the last moment, swinging the pipe onto her new target, who was in turn saved by Viper, the marine appearing behind her and slashing with curved knives. It was an incredible amount of pressure, one that only a squad as experienced and skilled as the Mongrels could have forced.

But none of the blows landed. Elizabeth had a preternatural sense for danger, seeming to sense every blow before it was delivered. She ducked and spun, evading the strikes even after Badger caught up to the fray, all the while calmly trying to line up her pipe for an attack. The Mongrels didn’t let her, though, and finding no openings, she changed tack. Calmly sheathing the weapon, she pulled out another globe and tossed it into the air between them. She shielded her eyes with a forearm, and Calris turned his head just in time as the device detonated.

Instead of flame, this globe brought forth a blinding white light. Badger and Viper cried out, pawing at their eyes. They were helpless as Elizabeth dropped them with a rapid combination of elbows, fists and feet. She dusted off her hands, huffing over the prone forms of the marines.

But she hadn’t dealt with all the Mongrels yet. Some sixth sense warned her once again, and she darted away as one of Sparrow’s bolts grazed her shoulder, drawing blood. She snarled and spun, drawing a pipe and firing. Though she had barely taken even a moment to aim, her missile found its mark, and Sparrow cried out in pain as the projectile knocked him off his feet.

Elizabeth poked her shoulder with a finger and grimaced, then gave the finger to where Sparrow had fallen before returning the pipe to its sleeve. She gave it an affectionate pat and turned to find herself face to face with Ban. Calris lurched to his feet and broke into an unsteady shuffle.

“Please,” Ban said. “Stop this. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“That’s sweet short stuff, but I’m not sure you could.”

“Short stuff? We’re the same height, uh…” he paused, thinking up a suitably witty response. “Gorgeous stuff?”

As he ran, Calris shook his head.

“Mate, you need to work on your insults,” Elizabeth said, though she giggled like a child as she did. Calris wasn’t sure what amazed him more; the fact Ban was trying to flirt with the woman, or the fact it seemed to be working.

“Actually,” Ban said as Calris closed the distance. “I’m working on you at the moment. How am I doing?”

“Pretty well, surprisingly,” she said. “I reckon I’ll feel bad about killing you. Later. Maybe?” she finished with a shrug as she toed Viper’s knives into the air, snatched them with a flourish, and leapt at Ban.

Hardened soldier though he was, Ban was on the defensive from the outset, keeping his axes held in a tight guard close to his body so he could parry the rapid blows coming from every angle. He held his ground admirably, though, considering what she had done to the rest of the squad. Elizabeth struggled to find an opening, and Calris could see her frustration mounting as she tried, and failed, to land a decisive blow. Meanwhile, Calris had closed the gap.

He charged into the fray with a shout, swinging his sword at her neck as Elizabeth finally landed a boot in Ban’s gut. Hearing Calris, she abandoned her assault on Ban and threw herself to the side, Calris missing her nape by a hair. She rolled smoothly to her feet, only to find the tip of Calris’ sword surging towards her face. It cut through the air, the tip shooting towards her widening eyes, when she disappeared in a puff of black smoke. She reappeared a few metres away.

“Gods be fucking damned! Another one?” he shouted. One of the charms around her neck flared briefly before turning dull.

“I hate those fucking necklaces,” Calris said.

“Bad experience with one before, hun?” Elizabeth asked as Ban moved up beside him, panting.

“It’s hardly fair, is it, mate?” he said.

“Na, they should be outlawed!”

“Oh, boo-hoo. Are you boys or men?” Elizabeth said.

Before Calris could say anything, Ban jerked a thumb at him.

“He’s a boy. I’m a man though,” he said, giving Elizabeth a wink, though his laboured breathing and the sheen of sweat on his face lessened its impact significantly.

“I’m sure,” she replied, amusement twinkling in her eyes.

While they carried on like school children, Calris heard a shuffling and scraping behind them. He turned to find Asim struggling towards them, leaning heavily on his halberd.

“Was wondering where you were, mate.”

“My apologies. It seems I had a brief nap when that first device detonated,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. His eyes were fixed on Elizabeth. “Jasmine’s battle with the Umbrian drained her, but she is gathering the energies in this place for an attack. We need to keep this one occupied until it is ready. Are you both able?”

The marines grunted, though between having his chest flayed open, copping a boot from a giant raider, and being magically launched into a wall, Calris was dangerously close to all bark and no bite at this point. Still, he didn’t think throwing his hands up and asking to sit this one out was feasible, so he sunk into a fighting stance and charged.

Even outnumbering Elizabeth three to one, it was a tense fight, one in which even a momentary lapse in concentration would be fatal. Calris grit his teeth against the pain, forcing his way through the fog in his head as he attacked. Some of his ribs were bruised at least, and most likely several of them were broken, since he felt an off, grinding sensation that accompanied the movements of his sword arm. The raw wound covering his chest burned with an unbelievable intensity, and blood trickled into his eyes from his hairline, from a cut he didn’t remember receiving. He decided the fight was not going very well.

Further, he could tell they were all fatiguing much faster than Elizabeth. None of them were free of wounds, and they were fighting their second battle of the day after going toe to toe with the raiders. It wouldn’t be long before someone made a fatal slip.

His fears were realised as Ban overextended in a swing. The assassin grasped his wrist and hurled him into Calris, knocking them both to the ground as stars exploded in Calris’ eyes. Asim swung his halberd, trying to force Elizabeth away from them, but she bent back at an impossible angle and flicked her heel out with the momentum, cracking Asim on the underside of his chin. Asim dropped to a knee, pure will keeping him conscious, as Elizabeth regained her feet and brought her knives to bear.

She raised them, poised to plunge into the guardsman, but hesitated as a strange gust of wind blew over them. She turned to find a torrent of flame barrelling towards her from Jasmine’s outstretched hand. Asim dropped to the glass and rolled while Calris threw himself over Ban’s prone form as the fire washed over the assassin, the glass around her blackening and cracking from the heat.

“Ban,” Calris said, eyes squeezed shut against the waves of heat rolling over him. “I think your girlfriend just got barbecued.”

“Ah,” Ban mumbled from under him, “I was starting to think it was an unhealthy relationship, anyway.”

Calris gave a tired laugh that petered out into nothing as he heard another, much more energetic laugh over the roar of the flames. He forced himself to look at the stream and found it dwindling.

As it wavered, he made out a pair of black boots, then black clad legs, and finally Elizabeth’s whole body, completely unharmed as the fire was sucked into a long, weighted chain spinning in a rapid circle before her body.

Her bag of tricks is bloody bottomless.

Jasmine was shaking, putting everything she had into the stream, before finally giving out and collapsing to the ground, too spent to even move. She did what she could though, which was apparently limited to glaring defiantly at the assassin with an anger Calris had only seen whenever she looked at him.

With the stream gone, Elizabeth smiled and twirled the chain, whistling a carefree tune as she swung the weight into Asim’s chest. A blast of condensed air from the weight launched him through the air and he hit the ground hard a good four or five meters away. He struggled weakly as he slid to a stop, then went still.

“Thanks for the recharge, cutie,” Elizabeth said, mocking Jasmine’s impotent rage.

With a groan, Calris rolled off Ban and pulled himself into a sitting position, trying to summon the strength to climb back to his feet. The rest of the Mongrels were down, and neither he nor Ban were in a great state. Asim looked to be unconscious, and Jasmine was so exhausted she could barely move. It was a bad situation, but they had to keep Elizabeth occupied until the rest of the company arrived. Elizabeth turned her head to look at him as he climbed to his feet.

“How are you still breathing, mate?”

“I’m a very stubborn individual.”

Ban stood beside him, axes held ready, while Calris struggled to keep a tenuous grip on his sword. He quickly ran through options and scenarios in his head before settling on the only one he considered viable.

Ban could fight. Out of the two of them, he had the best chance of defeating Elizabeth, while Calris would probably lose to a small child right now. In a fair fight, at least. All he could feasibly do was throw himself at Elizabeth, try to drag her down with his size and give Ban an opening. It would probably mean his death, but there was nothing else he could think to do. He caught Elizabeth’s eye for a second, and seeing something in the set of his face, her own expression changed from amused to annoyed.

“You’re fixing to do something stupid, aren’t you?”

“Stupid is my middle name.”

For a moment, everyone stopped, and Calris swore. He was about to die, and those were his last words? Although, on the balance of it all, it was probably fitting.

Elizabeth shook her head and lobbed a globe at the marines’ feet. As it struck the glass, stone pillars exploded from the earth, driving into their rib cages, locking their arms to their sides and fixing them to the spot. The tips of the pillars were blunt, thank the gods, but Calris still nearly passed out as he felt the last of his unbroken ribs crack. He gasped, struggling for air, as Elizabeth sauntered over and gave Ban an affectionate stroke on his cheek while she smirked at Calris.

There goes that plan.

“Well,” Calris said, “that’s almost all the schools of magic pilfered. Don’t suppose you’d show us the last one before we die?”

Elizabeth’s smirk grew wider.

“I was hoping someone would ask that,” she replied, pulling a pretty brass flower out of a pouch. “Here, smell my flower.”

Calris braced, ready to be cut open by a blade of pressurised water or something just as terrible. Certainly something more dangerous than the gentle stream of water that squirted him in the face. The shock still made him cough and splutter, each movement sending shards of pain lancing through his chest.

“Seriously?” he choked out. “That’s it?”

“I figured I had myself covered with the other schools, so I opted for something I thought was funny.”

“You’re batshit insane, you know that?”

“Perhaps, but I still mopped the floor with a mage, a guardsman and an entire squad of marines,” she said, “so maybe there’s some value in it, hmm?”

Calris had to admit she had a point there. He was still racking his brain for something to say when a voice interrupted them.

“We are not all mopped up yet, bitch!” Jasmine shouted, swaying towards them on unsteady feet. Calris craned his head around to look at her. He couldn’t believe she was still mobile. If she had looked exhausted before, she looked like a reanimated corpse now, and yet she staggered on, bringing her fists to her face in an imitation of a boxer’s stance.

“Jasmine, don’t, just… stay down, please,” Calris said.

“You think I cannot take her?”

Her foot placement was all wrong, her guard was wide open and, again, she looked like death warmed up. There was no way she could ‘take her’.

“I can tell you’ve never thrown a punch in your life, Princess. Don’t do this.”

Jasmine sniffed, ignoring Calris’ pleas as she advanced on Elizabeth. The assassin sighed and drew another pipe, firing it at Jasmine and charging. To everyone’s surprise, the young mage threw up a barrier of flame in time to stop the projectile, but it dissipated almost instantly, and Elizabeth burst through, laying Jasmine out cold with a haymaker to the jaw. It was an innocuous end to the fight, but Calris still found his grudging respect for Jasmine increasing. Even as she lay sprawled out on the glass.

Pushed completely past her limits, drained of magic and barely able to stand, she had stood fearlessly against an armed warrior who had dismantled the party without breaking a sweat. Calris struggled against his stone prison, desperate to get free. Though he disliked her, he would not leave Jasmine at the mercy of this woman.

“Alright, now I’ve mopped the floor with everyone,” Elizabeth said, more to herself than anyone else. She ignored Calris and Ban as she walked around the battlefield, picking up the various globes and pipes she had dropped over the course of the fighting. When she had collected her last device, she turned back to Calris and Ban, cocked her head to the side, and smiled, letting out a soft sigh as she did so.

“This has been fun, boys, but my bag of tricks is running as low as my patience. Just tell me where the artefact is so I can get it and go home, please? Or,” she said, pulling out her last two short pipes, “I put a bullet in you both and do it the hard way.”

Calris kept struggling, though he may as well have been pinned by a tonne of earth for all the headway he made. He couldn’t see any way out of the situation; everyone else was down, and the two of them were stuck fast. As the marines glared, Elizabeth’s smile slowly faded.

“Pity it had to go this way. For what it’s worth, you and yours put up the best fight I’ve ever had, so-”

Elizabeth suddenly disappeared as a roaring pillar of flame barrelled out of the sky and engulfed her. Calris shut his eyes against the heat and the shrapnel as the glass exploded, sending tiny shards hurtling through the air. He heard cursing and followed the sound to find Elizabeth rematerializing from shadow a few metres from the flames.

“Why won’t you stay the fuck down?” she screamed, whirling on Jasmine, only to find the apprentice still unconscious. “Oh…”

She turned to find Ferez standing where she had been just a moment before, wreathed in flame, nostrils flaring, eyes narrowed as he stared at Jasmine’s motionless body.

“What have you done?” he roared, his anger feeding his flames and buffeting Calris with wave after wave of scorching air.

“Relax, old timer,” Elizabeth replied, affecting disinterest as she inspected her nails, though the tension in her stance showed the power on display unnerved her. “She’s alive. For now.”

Ferez roared again and unleashed a searing stream of flame, and Elizabeth threw her chain out to intercept it. Still holding the assault as it was absorbed, Ferez tossed an arcing ball of flame from his free hand, detonating it a few feet from the assassin with a clench of his fist, launching the assassin through the air.

She twisted as she flew and landed on her feet, sliding a few more feet along the glass. She straightened as she stopped, a scowl on her face. Despite coming off second best, the manoeuvre was actually pretty impressive. Her landing had looked smooth as fuck.

I wish I was that graceful, Calris thought, finally ceasing his fruitless struggles against his stone cage.

“You must be Ferez? A little birdie told me to watch out for you,” Elizabeth said, drawing the long pipe from her back. “Fortunately, I came prepared.”

“I have no doubt,” Ferez replied, surveying the limp forms scattered around the battlefield. “For me at any rate, but what about them?” he asked, jerking a thumb behind him as Calandorian marines began pouring onto the battlefield.

The company had arrived. Elizabeth wavered, pipe in hand, before a javelin sailing past her head convinced her to cut her losses. Spitting a curse, she spun and ran for the perimeter wall, sheathing her pipe and pulling out the chain. As she neared the wall, she swung the weight into the ground at her feet, riding the blast of wind over it and out of sight.

Calris watched her go with a mixture of admiration and anger. He felt humiliated, sure, having defeated an entire company of raiders only to be brushed aside by a single woman with some fancy weapons, but it was hard to hate her. There was something endearing about her cocky swagger. If nothing else, she was an enemy to be respected, and something told Calris their paths would cross again.

As the marines fanned out through the room, securing the battlefield and seeing to the wounded, Calris felt the hype of the battle leave his body. He slumped in his earthen prison, darkness closing in, and he welcomed the cold, numbing embrace.

Until a marine reached him and hammered the stone with the pommel of his sword. Consciousness rushed screaming back as each blow reverberated through the stone and into Calris’ shattered ribs.

“Motherfucker!” he screamed, trying to wave the marine off with desperate thrusts of his chin, but the bastard didn’t stop. Forcing his bleary eyes to focus, Calris found the face of Gaelon swim into view. “You fucking prick.”

“Gotta get you out of there eventually, Corporal,” the shitbag replied as he kept hammering, flakes of stone falling away. The wanker at least had the courtesy to catch Calris when the stone finally crumbled, half-way gently lowering him to the ground.

“Gods, I hope you die slowly,” Calris growled through clenched teeth as he sat on the glass, willing the agony through his body to subside. It didn’t work.

“You too,” Gaelon replied. “Though I’ll settle for how close you came today. You look like shit.”

“Fuck you. Also, help me up.”

“Are you sure you want to try stand? You legitimately look like you’ll die soon,” Gaelon said, muttering ‘Cael willing,’ under his breath.

Calris nodded. He was sure. Now that he was free from the restraints, he could feel the darkness crawling back, and there was something he needed to do before it claimed him. Gaelon pulled him to his feet, eliciting a groan from Calris as he did so.

“Where’re we headed?”

Calris pointed to Jasmine. To his surprise, Gaelon pulled one of his arms around his shoulders and helped him over, even lowering him to the ground beside her. The smug look on his face had gone, and Calris reflected that he really must be in awful shape if even Gaelon was feeling bad for him.

I can worry about that later, Calris thought as he leant over Jasmine, his eyes unfocussed and head spinning, pressing his fingers to her neck to check for a pulse. A blind panic rose in his chest when he felt nothing.

“No, no, no…” he muttered, frantic, as Ferez came up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

She shouldn’t be dead, couldn’t be dead. He was surprised by how much he cared. After all, he didn’t even like her, but she had saved his life. Twice. And the thought of her being dead now just seemed, wrong.

“Calris,” Ferez said. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not!” Calris shouted. “You weren’t here, you didn’t see! She saved my life!”

Ferez let out a long sigh and squeezed Calris’ shoulder.

“You misunderstand, Calris. I mean, she is actually alright. I can see her breathing. Your fingers are in the wrong spot. Her carotid artery is an inch to the left.”

“What?” Calris asked, looking up at Ferez in confusion before following his gaze to the rising and falling of Jasmine’s chest. “Oh.”

“I am sure she will be flattered to hear you were crying over her ‘body’, though,” Ferez said, a cruel glint in his eye.

“Don’t you… dare,” Calris muttered as he keeled over, the darkness returning and overwhelming him as the ground rushed to meet him.