The Beggar Blades

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 2 (v.1) - II.

Submitted: February 05, 2020

Reads: 46

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Submitted: February 05, 2020

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The sound of a scuffle and loud grunts can be heard bouncing off the stone walls of the Bradshaw keep. A vast room fitted with a single bench to one side and four stone pillars on each of the room’s corners. To each side of the wall, were several bladed and blunt weapons. Swords, spears, axes, maces and war hammers, as well as wooden practice swords. Maven wore simple, flexible clothes. A tanned sleeved shirt, cloth pants and boots. Maven jumped backwards and landed wrong on his heels, and he grinded his teeth. He decided to not show his pain and readied himself, positioning his wooden sword in front of him with both hands. Before him stood his opponent, Haines Bogard, a 6’2” solid man with a thick brown mustache and eyes that cut deeper than sharp steel. Maven charged forward and swung his sword horizontally, bringing his momentum forward, and Haines backstepped it with zero effort. He then slapped Maven in the forehead with the tip of his sword and Maven snapped his head back in pain.

“You are too reckless, boy,” Haines said. He raised his wooden sword with one hand. “Charge at me with a little more grace. Tighten your body and don’t leave any openings.”

Maven rubbed his freshly bruised forehead and scoffed. He charged again, this time swinging his sword in a small arc at the very last minute. Haines, however, was a step ahead and parried the blow, striking Maven’s side in the process. Maven stumbled to a single knee and Haines quickly went ahead for the killing blow; digging his wooden sword at Maven’s exposed neck.

“And now you’re dead,” Haines said. He lent a hand to Maven.

“Pfft, of course you’re beating me. You were with the Royal Guard!” Maven took his hand and rose to his feet.

“I’m here to teach you, boy, and you are here to learn.” Haines snatched Maven’s wooden sword away.

“Hey!”

“And I’m afraid you must first learn how to be disciplined before wielding any kind of weapon,” Haines instructed. “You charge with recklessness and that sort of mentality will get you killed if you were to face a real enemy. We will continue another day, for now, eat healthy and meditate.” Haines hung up the wooden swords and went on his way.

“You’re no fun,” Maven said, crossing his arms.

Seymour was seen walking down the stairs, and he nodded at Haines walking up. He glanced around the training room and noticed Maven and said, “Surprised you’re up early and training, Maven. Did Master Bogard beat you already?”

“I’m just...sharpening my skills for when we go hunting.” Maven dusted himself off and wiped his body of sweat with his hands. “I’m ready to go. Is father upstairs?”

“No, he has an important meeting with Captain Hartford.” Seymour walked over to the weapon wall and examined some of the blades, sliding his finger on its edges.

“Should have known,” Maven sighed.

“We’ll go by ourselves,” Seymour said, looking back at his younger brother.

“Really? What of the guards? Who’s going to escort us?”

“We don’t need an escort, Maven. We’re both grown.” Seymour took a short sword off the rack and tossed it to Maven. “Catch.”

Maven awkwardly caught the short sword by its pommel. “You’re sure about this, Seymour?”

“I’m as sure as ever. I want you to be sure about this.”

Maven looked hard at his older brother. He had the face of a young boy but the body of a young man. He had broad soldiers which made it easy for him to swing a sword and Maven was jealous of that. Maven trusts his brother. Seymour has been in real fights before, though never involving dangerous weapons, but it was obvious to Maven that between the both of them, Seymour had the most courage and the most combat experience. So, Maven agreed and took up a sheath to store the short sword. Seymour took his own, and they both tried to sneak their way out of the keep, trying to avoid the keep’s guards. Along the way, Maven stopped by his room to pick up his hunting bow and a small quiver of arrows. Maven and Seymour then wrapped around the edges of each of the keep’s rooms and made it outside through a side door that was connected to the pantry. The door led them behind the keep and behind the walls of the city. Seymour had prepared two horses outside. Two warmbloods. One was mahogany with a strip of white running down its nose. The other, a shiny all-black beauty and Maven already knew which one was his.

“Horses! They’re so pretty!” Maven said with wide eyes. He raced over to the striking black mare and rubbed its fur in amazement.

“Gifts from father. The one on the left is mine, and it looks like you’ve taken a liking to yours already.”

“Do they have names?”

“No, but we will think of them later. For now, let’s go before the guards find out that we’re gone.”

Maven nodded and he jumped up on his new horse. He was already jumpy from the emotions and now he was finally able to go hunting and with his strong older brother at his side. Maven and Seymour took flight with their new steeds and ran into the nearby woods of the Twisted Trees.


© Copyright 2020 Manolo. All rights reserved.

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