Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

the shield at the closest soldier’s ankle. His dagger struck armor and clinked off, doing no damage. When his roll ended he kicked hard, leaping into the very center of the three. They turned on him, but their shields were large and the room small. Haern twirled like a dancer, his daggers punching through creases in armor. He jumped, kicked off a shield, and slammed into the chest of another. As they rolled to the ground Haern’s dagger cut into the man’s neck once, twice, three times. Blood splattered across his mask.
    The other two soldiers, their arms and legs bleeding from several deep cuts, tried to stab Haern as he lay there. Their blades struck air. Haern rolled off and onto his knees, then kicked back. He slid between the remaining two, and this time his daggers found the open spots just above their greaves. To make sure they stayed down, he twisted the daggers when he pulled them out. One dead and two others crumpled to the ground, Haern ran out of the armory and into a corridor.
    A man dressed in the garb of the Serpent Guild nearly collided with him. His curved daggers dripped blood.
    “Who the fuck are you?” the man had time to ask before Haern lunged. The Serpent was far more skilled than Haern had expected. One curved blade parried his attack, the other slipping downward so Haern might impale himself from his lunge. Twisting his body, Haern angled his knee so that when they struck, he could rebound off and away before getting harmed. When he landed beside the armory door, he had no doubt whom he fought.
    “You’re Norris,” he said.
    The guildmaster of the Serpents spat.
    “You must be Thren’s boy. I’d heard you were getting soft. Did he send you after me, or is this your own stupid ploy?”
    “Mine,” Haern said, slowly settling into a combat stance. Norris saw this and smirked.
    “Think you can handle my cloakdance, boy?” He started swaying, his weapons well hidden. “Come try me.”
    Norris swirled, his cloak whipping out in chaotic fashion. Haern watched, fascinated. The guildmaster spun faster, faster, his cloak a blur, his hands hidden shadows of death. Waiting. Haern felt like prey mesmerized by the dance of the cobra, though part of it was professional interest. Such a dance, he had to learn it. He had to master such a skill. He stepped forward, then immediately pulled back, a curved dagger slicing just above his head.
    Time was not on either of their sides, and both knew it. Haern crouched low, and then lunged left. He hit the wall and then vaulted into the air, his legs flipping high over his head. His daggers thrust downward at the whirl of cloaks, but Norris was not fooled. He batted both aside, pulled out of his dance, and thrust where Haern landed.
    Except he didn’t land. The corridor was thin enough that Haern’s feet pressed flat on the opposite side. His momentum pushed his knees down, and then he kicked. His shoulder rammed Norris in the stomach. One dagger stabbed his chest. The other tore into his groin. Norris collapsed, blood pouring out on his green trousers.
    “Always wondered if I could take Thren,” he said, his voice labored and in pain. “Can’t even kill his damn kid.”
    Haern stepped close, kicked a dagger out of Norris’s hand, and then looped around to do the same to the other.
    “My knife or the guards?” he asked.
    “A thief to a thief,” Norris said, coughing blood.
    Haern saluted, then flipped the dagger in his hand and stabbed. Senke entered as he was cleaning off the blade on his cloak.
    “There you are!” Senke shouted. “Seems like the whole damn army is here!” He stopped when he saw the body and realized who it was.
    “You killed Norris?” he asked. “Damn. Starting to think you’ve been holding out on me during our spars.”
    Crazy as it was, Haern felt embarrassed.
    “It’s different this way,” he said, wishing he could explain. “Practice is practice. This … matters. This is real. Now how do we get out of here?”
    “Follow me,” Senke said. “Going won’t be easy. The mansion has a large attic, and from there we can get to the roof.”
    He smacked Haern on the shoulder.
    “No matter what, I’m proud of you,” he said.
    The two hurried to the end of the corridor and kicked open the door. They were within another dining hall, though smaller and most likely intended for mercenaries and servants. On the far end smoke billowed into the room from underneath the crack of the door. Senke saw this and swore up