A Funny Thing Happened an the way to the Sacred Library
Caldor meets some resistance
A figure stepped out of the darkness, blocking Caldor's path. "You may have tricked my master into allowing you access to the Libraries, but I see through your schemes. You shall not have our secrets"
"Step aside, ruffian. The deal is struck, and I have much to do. Step aside, I say" The man stepped back a few paces, as more men appeared from the dark recesses of the Palace corridors. Caldor let out a sigh of impatience, and awaited their next move. A short steel blade flashed from behind a pillar, and suddenly the curved blades were in his hands, hooked back along his forearms, and sparks flickered from the clash. A moment later, three men were advancing upon him. Palace guards by the looks of them, and the man who had spoken had previously been introduced as Taal'mer, Master At Arms. These would be his personal guards. Well trained, loyal, equipped with the best that Sha-mit'acir had to offer. Caldor waited for the men ... one more step ... Just as the first was close enough to attack, as his eyes narrowed to focus ...
"How DARE you attack an Ambassador, one under the Satrap's hospitality! Have you no loyalty to your Country? If only you could understand the meanings of my search, you would not impede me!" The curved blades swung back and forth, forming a rhythmic pattern. The guards looked for an opening, and at the behest of their master, attacked. The first blade glanced harmlessly from the web of steel, the second, too. The third would have struck home, had Caldor not stopped his whirling blades and put all effort into blocking the power-blow that the man, six foot and more tall and built like an ox, had directed at his heart. Holding the two blades crossed, and pressing back against the mans strength, Caldor was now at the mercy of the other attackers ...
Falling back under the press, Caldor dropped to one knee, watching the others approach, seemingly helpless... but he had trained this maneuver many times, with The Cathak who knew little of sparring, only Winning. A leg shot out, a twist of the wrist, and Caldor was leaping to his feet, one hooked sword caught in the brutes armour, using his bulk as a shield against the others.
"Now dance for me, servant!". With a sharp tug, the man spun, surprised by the slight diplomat's speed, twisting into his companions, blunting their charge.
"I warn you one more time. You shall not impede me. I work for Powers you cannot even imagine. Delay me no more, or you master shall see that your families pay for your insolence". Caldor saw in the guards eyes that they recognized the truth of his bluff.
"You," he picked out a man in his late twenties, "What will your children be told of their father, the traitor who died in vain trying to undermine the will of the Satrap? And you, " A younger man, "You will win no wife when your rank and possessions are stripped from you, and exiled to the Wilderness".
"GUARDS! Listen not to his lies! He tricks you!" The men reformed to rush in, but the seeds had been planted. A blur of steel, glinting in the light of the moon, and blade crashed against blade. One, twice, thrice Caldor blocked blows and turned the attacker away. One received a swift kick to the buttocks, falling roughly against a pillar. Another found his short thrusting sword somehow find its way into the wooden frame around the door, wedging solid. The brute crashed his heavy sword down, but found only the flagstones as Caldor skipped aside. "Call off your men" another parry.
"They cannot win, and if they do, the Satrap shall punish them" Dodge.
"Deceiver! You may have woven your spells on the Satrap, but I am not so easily fooled! you seek our riches, to take them for your own". Block.
"I seek only the knowledge that lies unlearned in your antechambers. Even your own leaders have left it untouched for generations. It is to be used, not left to rot"
"It is you who shall rot, Wordsmith! Kill him, Men. Ten strips of Jade to the man who takes him down!" Caldor smiled.
"A hundred to any man who will defend me! And a home for your family in Djel. I can offer more than this jumped-up thug will see in ten lifetimes." He knew none would take him up, but he had made his position clear.
The guards glanced at each other, and started to circle, using the cover of the pillars, the statues, to hide from Caldor's icy gaze.
"Now, Men! He is weak!" The attack came swift and strong. Despite his years of training, Caldor was pushed back against the wall, parrying blow after blow as they rained against him. "Push on! You have him! Kill him!" The voice was rising to a shriek.
"Listen to the woman who would lead you. Is that the voice of a Master? He will lead you to your doom" A blade swung heavily at Caldor's head. Catching it in his hook, it was twirled forwards and back, spoiling the others' aim. catching the rythym, he kept it spinning, spraining the mans arm and forcing him backwards. Before he could finish the maneuver, he sensed more incoming attacks. a quick push, a turn, and he faced two blades dropping towards his head. Recalling what Marr had taught him about these type of men, and the Way Of The Mantis, he snapped his blades up, deflecting the blows, and then down, catching both swords, trapped in the curves of his own, and pulled himself eye-to-eye with the larger man.
"You will stop this foolishness NOW! You have a great career ahead of you. Indeed, any man who can lay a blow on me deserves more than this toy-soldier can offer. Maybe the Satrap will give you his job, after I dispatch him. Think on this."
A great leap took Caldor onto a table, and ran its length. The commander stepped out of the shadows to block his passage, sword high, anger showing. Exactly as Caldor had planned.
"Call off your men, and allow me passage or you shall feel my wrath!"
"NEVER!" The man charged, his anger blinding him to Caldors swift blow. Not a killing blow. indeed it could not pierce the mail the man wore, crafted by the best in the land, no doubt. But it did knock him off balance, and he grunted heavily into the oaken table. Again he rushed in. "My, have we forgotten ALL we learned under Master Rasilon?" Caldor twisted the assault to the floor, and kicked the man sharply in the stomach.
"Maybe it is for the best. Rasilon was a wise and insightful Armsman. He even taught me a few tricks" Caldor's blades spun, creating a hypnotic pattern "Did he teach you this one" As the guard's blade thrust forwards, Caldor caught it under his arm, and twisted his body, throwing the man off balance. Allowing him to almost regain his composure, Caldor saw the brute coming in "Hold this for me please" he asked, handing his sword to the man, who stopped, surprised and took the bejeweled blade, more wealth than he had ever held. Caldor's now free hand struck the guard Captain across the face.
"Drop your weapon. Call off your men. You have thrown all you have at me, and all you have done is ruined an outfit that is worth more than your miserable. small life." Caldor glared at the brute, who had put a rip in the sleeve of Caldor's fine clothes. "Will you submit, or will you let me play a while longer, awaiting my companions who approach?" Caldor knew Garland was to be meeting him at the entrance to the Inner Sanctum, and would tolerate no delay. The captain reached for his blade, attacking in the same maneuver, but he was too slow. Caldor retrieved his sword from the dazed hand of the brute, and its curved edge twisted into the captain's hair. The man fell heavily, and scampered back, clutching at the place his ponytail, sign of respect, and honoured clasps that held it, once was. Caldor pushed the trophy into his belt, and watched the guards retreat.
"I know your faces, and your names. I do not forget!"
"Having trouble, Caldor? Should we pursue the miscreants?"
"No, Garland. They have learnt their lesson. We have work to be done. I shall let the Satrap dispense justice on those who would deny his word"