Chapter 253: Captain on Deck

As I settled into the dreamscape, Konstantin rushed to me. “Ready to resume your training?” I wasn’t sure if this was my subconscious missing the old man or him being his regular annoying self. A slight pain of loss lingered, as I didn’t know if he still lived. How involved had he been in the plot? I wish I had taken a sample of his blood during Hound training; not knowing would nag at me and make me anxious at every shadow, expecting him to step out.

“Not tonight, Konstantin; I have to study some Elvish.” I pointed at Scholar Favian.

Konstantin had a sour expression on his face. “What good do you think it will do to talk with your enemies if you can’t defend yourself from their blades?” he spat on the ground and walked away.

Scholar Favian smiled. “Don’t worry. He will cool down after a time. You need my instruction?” I rarely conversed with Favian in the dreamscape but he seemed eager to help.

Unfortunately, the extent of Scholar Favian’s knowledge was limited to my own. The good news was that during my time with him, we spent hours reviewing the Elvish language and script. I had spent long sessions with the scholar working on my pronunciation and practicing with verb tenses in Caelora.

I exited the dreamscape every two hours to check on our ship, but only pitch-black night and the rush of water greeted me when I looked through the small porthole. From the height of the porthole, I thought it was made to piss out of. At least, that was what I used it for.

While working on Elvish pronunciation, I walked the deck during the day. The Shorebreaker was rolling a bit with the waves, and I assumed the mage had exhausted his aether. Only a handful of crew dressed in thin, loose garments were on the deck, and they ignored me after giving me curt nods. I spent an hour with Ginger, and she seemed to be doing well—well, after an apple she was doing well. I suspected this was not her first time on a ship, as legionnaires frequently used barges in the Empire.

When I returned above deck, Desdemona had taken the helm. She didn’t even acknowledge me, so I stripped down to work bare-chested on my sword forms with the black blade. My blade whistled through the air as I chained multiple movements together.

I was preening a bit and pushing myself to work up a good sweat in the cool morning sea air. There were two middle-aged female members of the crew who appreciated the show—and more than a few of the male sailors as well. I caught Desdemona sneak her own glances and then pull the mage who calmed the waters to her to talk.

Shortly after their conversation, the ship seemed to be surging and falling with the waves. It was a childish attempt to disrupt my practice, but I was more concerned for Ginger. I checked on her before continuing and used the unstable deck to train.

The ship riding the swells had roused Maveith as well. “Late night?” I asked my friend.

“Very,” he huffed, licking his lips. “Desdemona pushed me hard and taught me some things.” Maveith started to strip as well to join me in my practice before continuing. “She won five of our thirteen games and then taught me how to play backgammon.” It took a little explanation before I understood the unfamiliar word they used for backgammon.

Maveith started to stretch, and I was happy to see the Shorebreaker had returned to cutting evenly through the water instead of riding the waves. “Do you want to practice, Maveith?” I asked, thinking we could give the crew a good show.

Maveith sucked his teeth, thinking. “No air discs?” he questioned softly. It never took me long to win when I used them.

“Agreed,” I said immediately, and began wrapping my blade. Maveith went to retrieve his hammer, and soon, we were sparring on the deck. Maveith was faster than I remembered, but it didn’t matter, as my own speed gains had far surpassed his increases. With my small buckler, I could deflect his hammer before it built up speed and get inside his guard. I was even ready for his off-hand punches and low kicks.

We got lost in the physical exercise, and soon, both of us were coated in sweat. My mop of black hair was plastered to my scalp while Maveith’s profuse sweat rained down on the deck with each impact. We both understood this was practice and exercise more than a test of our skills. Still, I used a few openings to slap Maveith’s ass with the flat of my blade. I was trying to impress Desdemona and caught her watching more than once, but maybe she had eyes for Maveith.

When I deflected a heavy swing of the runic hammer into the deck, the boards cracked before the hammer rebounded. Desdemona barked angrily, “Don’t destroy my ship, legionnaire!”

Maveith immediately defended me. “It was my hammer that did the damage, Dee.” He was breathing heavily and bowed slightly toward the fast-approaching captain. “I will compensate you for any damage.”

“The legionnaire was the one who forced your hammer into the deck with a clumsy parry,” she said hotly as she finally reached us. “All brute strength and no finesse!”

“Do you think you are a better match for me?” I said with a wide grin. The truth was that I had switched my style to forceful and direct combat with Maveith. I was looking for exercise and trying to match the goliath’s strength. I was a much better swordsman than I appeared to the crew and Desdemona should have realized that if she had paid attention when I practiced my sword forms.

“You are probably too exhausted from your practice with Maveith, legionnaire,” she remarked, stepping back to assess me. The thing was, I might have been sweating profusely but I was not winded, nor did I feel tired.

“Eryk actually has amazing endurance and can go forever. I don’t think I have ever met his match,” Maveith noted as his breathing started to settle. Desdemona cocked her eyebrow.

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“Thanks, Maveith, but I can speak for myself. I would gladly give you a lesson if you want some exercise and to sharpen your skills.” My tone was playful, and her eyes understood the implication. The crew around us had paused to watch our interaction, clearly hoping to see their captain in action. I think she was weighing her chances.

She finally said, “First to three strikes wins?”

“Agreed. Maveith can officiate.” Maveith vehemently shook his head no. “Fine. Your first mate Isaak, then?” Isaak turned over the helm to another and eagerly joined the entertainment on the main deck.

Desdemona drew her long, thin blade—a rapier with a smaller guard than normal. With her off hand, she drew a stiletto. She hadn’t struck me as a two-weapon fighter, but her eyes brimmed with confidence. She started to limber up and asked, “Spell forms?”

I smirked. “I am not telling you what my spell forms are.”

“No, you dolt. Are they allowed in our contest?” I could see her crew starting to make wagers on the outcome, eager for some good amusement.

“It wouldn’t be a fair contest then. You wouldn’t stand a chance,” I replied confidently. “Are you going to wrap your weapons?”

“Spell forms are allowed then.” She beamed widely. “Don’t worry if I stab you a little; Vodoma can heal you.” Instead of playing into her overconfidence, I smiled, pulled the tacky wrapping off my black blade, and made Corvus’s runic dagger appear in my off hand. I was sure Tarvon had already told Desdemona about my dimensional space, but judging by her surprised look, maybe not.

She stepped back, reassessing my two blades and me. “That is a different blade than the one you carried on deck in Telha.” Her eyes were focused on the runic, dungeon-forged dagger. I probably should have had it identified before using it in combat. It had no remarkable effect during my fight with Corvus, but then again, I didn’t give him much of a chance.

“Maveith was carrying it for me,” I replied unflinchingly. His pack had certainly been large enough to conceal the blade. She narrowed her eyes but didn’t contradict me. I was interested to see what her spell forms were. It would be excellent practice for me to react to an unknown factor.

Desdemona didn’t wait for an announcement to start and instead rushed me. I had trouble following her movement as she seemed to blur, and I guessed it was her spell form. As she closed in, I focused and reacted to her movements, but she seemed to have four arms instead of two. Maybe it was an illusion, but it did not matter. I managed to block all four attacks and separate. Steel clanged twice in the air as she moved past me.

She turned to face me quickly, clearly angry that her attack had not connected. Her chest was heaving from the effort, and I almost told her she needed to work on her conditioning, but I bit my tongue. Her crew was also visibly shocked that their captain had missed all her strikes. Maveith was the only one clapping at the performance, impressed by what he had just seen. The seeds of doubt had been planted in her mind. “Interesting spell form. What was it?” I asked, grinning. “Perhaps you have something else you want to try?”

I relaxed my stance a little as I studied her. I guessed that she was slightly older than me and had grown up in the Adventurers Guild, so she had to have a lot of experience. “Illusionary feint,” she finally said. “It projects multiple attacks, and I can watch my opponent and then choose which one to utilize.”

“Impressive,” Maveith said aloud.

“If I had not blocked all four, you would have adjusted to the two successful attacks?” She nodded slowly. “I agree with Maveith. Impressive. What else can you do? Or if that is all you have, you keep using it.”

I caught Isaak and Vodoma smirking out of the corner of my eye. Desdemona’s chest heaved with adrenaline and she didn’t respond. Her jaw tightened and she rushed me again. This time, I was forced back after blocking four attacks twice in a row as she chained her ability in an attempt to catch me off guard. It was taxing even for my quickness, and I retreated four steps as I dealt with all her attacks.

It was curious how heavily she was breathing after the attack, and I pieced it together. She was, in fact, making all four attacks somehow. Or at least, she was using the energy to make all four attacks. The small woman didn’t look happy. I hadn’t even used a single spell form.

Before consuming all the quickness essences, I probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up with her. And if she were a little faster, things could be playing out very differently.

After she caught her breath, she made another attempt and then another. This was actually excellent training for me, and I was going to let her continue, but she scored a cut on my thigh on the third sequence. She had extended her illusion on larger vectors, and I couldn’t get the runic dagger to block the fourth attack in one sequence.

A sweaty mess, she grinned like a Cheshire cat. Isaak, realizing his captain had scored, announced it: “Dee one, Eryk zero.” At least he was using my name and not calling me legionnaire.

Having some pride, I didn’t plan to lose. The next rush found Desdemona tripping over the invisible air shield and her ass receiving the flat of my black blade like Maveith had earlier. She gave me a satisfying yip at the strike and quickly rolled away. She was on her feet in a blink, trying to puzzle out what the hell just happened. Exasperated, I turned to Isaak and raised my hands questioningly. He finally announced, “Dee one, Eryk one.” I nodded my thanks.

Desdemona looked to Maveith for help, as she hadn’t been able to figure out what I had done. Maveith started to speak. “It was a—” but my harsh look silenced him.

The captain was clearly tired from using her spell form. It wasn’t aether exhaustion but physical exhaustion. In the next exchange, I didn’t even have to use an air shield to leave a cut on her bicep with the runic dagger. Isaak reluctantly announced, “Dee one, Eryk two.” I could tell who among the crew had bet on me by their happy faces, but most looked downcast, about to lose their coin.

“You are no longer bleeding,” Desdemona noted. She was clearly stalling for time to recover.

I looked down at my bloody leggings. “Yeah, it looks like it. You did ruin these pants. If I win, will you sew them for me?” The look in her eyes told me she knew she was overmatched. My brutish, direct attacks against Maveith were gone, and I was now agile and defensive. If I were fighting myself, I would have my doubts as well.

My third point was an elbow to Desdemona’s head. I had actually been trying to grapple with her, but she was like a slippery eel in close quarters. It was either an elbow to her head or her stiletto in my kidney. Note to self: do not try to subdue a woman to impress her when she can stab you with a twelve-inch blade.

Isaak called me the victor and Maveith clapped loudly. The crew exchanged coins and slowly returned to work.

“Maveith, lunch and a game of backgammon?” Desdemona asked the goliath, clearly exhausted. Her sweaty clothes clung to her short frame. By the look in her eyes, I could tell she was going to press my friend for all my secrets in the hope of coming out on top next time. As Maveith happily followed Desdemona to her cabin, I thought to myself that she didn’t have to try this hard to be on top.

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