Swordflash... Chapter 2

Myrmidon, Book One
Swordflash and Candlelight

Chapter 2

The sun had just risen above the Academy walls as twenty teenagers and four soldiers convened in the Proving Grounds. Donovan joined the small mass of humanity somewhat hesitantly. These weren’t his people. These were the children of aristocrats and nobles, born into wealth and privilege. They had the best education and years of training already behind them. They knew everything from how to behave to how to handle a sword, and if they didn’t excel at all of it, they would never have been admitted into the Academy at all. Donovan, however, had been admitted as a special case. He had no education, no experience, and no talent. All he had was his name.

And now, on this field, that was going to become abundantly clear. As if he didn’t look stupid enough already.

Donovan was broken out of his spiral of depression by the arrival of Thomas Bane. Right, Tom was in his group. That was something, at least. The smaller boy quickly picked Donovan out of the crowd and came over to him. “H-hey. Why’d you run off yesterday? I mean, since we’re in the same group, I thought maybe we should talk a bit, but you were already gone.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just wasn’t really comfortable, you know? Too many strange people.” That wasn’t exactly true. Donovan was used to strange people, but he usually didn’t pay attention to each person. Here, though, it was impossible to see a group as just a throng of people. Each cadet commanded respect, and though he didn’t want to admit it, Donovan was a bit intimidated.

“Well, m-maybe we should fix that.” Tom was grinning sheepishly. “I don’t know that many people, but I bet I know more than you. The tall guy with the blond hair and the stick up his ass is Marshall Ropes. They say he’s really smart. And the red-haired kid in Clay Chappel. I don’t know much about him, but he’s pretty nice. The guy with the scar over his eye is Victor Lowstetter. I hear he was a child gladiator down south. I wouldn’t mess with him if I were you. Now, the short girl with the mousy hair and the antisocial attitude is Robin Jesavah. I-I tried talking to her, but I only got as far as her name. Frankly, she creeps me out. A-anyway, she’s supposed to be the—“

Tom was interrupted by one of the older soldiers. “Alright, listen up. Now’s the time to break up into your respective groups. Group one, follow Tesserar Mint to the other side of the Proving Grounds. Group two, form up in a line facing me.”

Suddenly the crowd was moving, and suddenly, Donovan was in his element. He could feel the flow, the life, in even such a small crowd. He quickly picked up the intent in each of the two intermingled groups, and he was one of the first to join the line of cadets facing two of the older soldiers. It was a small feat, hardly worth noting, but listening to a crowd made him feel at ease. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Good. I’m glad to see you can organize yourselves. You’re already leagues ahead of some groups I’ve trained.” The officer speaking was a small, blond man with a thin rapier on one hip and a short, heavy knife on the other. He looked more like a gentleman than a soldier, but something in his eyes told Donovan that this man had seen battle, had felt blood on his face, had watched the light fade from his enemies’ eyes, and more likely than not, had enjoyed it. Donovan shivered. “Now then, my name is Lukas Feral. Optio Lukas Feral. You may address me as Optio, or as Sir. This,” he said, motioning to the man next to him, “is Centurion Jeremiah Rucker. He’s your mentor, and he’s your commanding officer. If you give him trouble, you will answer to me.”

The man was tall and commanding, made more so by the small form of Optio Feral next to him. He wasn’t old, really, but he looked profoundly tired, and he leaned heavily on a thick wooden cane in his right hand. Unlike Feral, Centurion Rucker was smiling. “Well, now, unless I miss my count, you’re all here. That’s good. I know the halls can be a bit confusing at times. Now, I’m sure you’re all eager to get to know each other, but before I can teach you anything, I need to know how good you are. Take a practice sword and some armor from the rack over there and pair up. They say the best way to get to know someone is to fight them, anyway.” He motioned towards the courtyard wall with his cane. The line of students hurried to the wall, some eager, some nervous. They each donned a suit of heavy mail, horrible for movement but great for protection. They grabbed wooden swords, each finding one that suited his height, strength, and style. Donovan picked one of the largest swords available, figuring that the longer reach would come in handy.

Once they were armed and armored, the centurion explained the rules. “Once you’ve paired up, each pair will step into one of the chalk rings in the sand pit over there,” he motioned farther down the field, “and face off. You will all begin at my command. The first person to be struck with the opponent’s blade or forced out of the ring looses. Striking your opponent’s head is forbidden for safety reasons, as is any other tactic deemed likely to cause serious injury. Beyond that, fight however you choose.”

Donovan quickly sought out Tom, but as it turned out, Tom already had a partner. Damn. Ok, now he just had to approach someone and ask if they wanted to pair up. But everyone was already pairing up. There had to be someone who didn’t have a partner, right? There had to be. Wait, there was one. What did Tom say her name was? Robin something? Donovan walked over to her, took a deep breath, and plunged ahead.

“Hey, uh, my name’ s Donovan. I noticed you didn’t have a partner. Not that that’s a bad thing. I mean, I don’t have one either. I mean, not yet. A-anyway, you don’t have a partner, and I don’t have a partner, so, I guess, do you want to be my partner?

The girl slowly lifter her head and looked up at him. Donovan was at least six inches taller than her, but that stare make him feel like a rabbit cornered by a hungry wolf. Shit. This was the wrong choice of partner.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. This was not going to go well.

The girl walked over to the sand pit, and Donovan followed reluctantly at her heels. They stepped into one of the circles and faced off. Once again, Donovan felt totally insignificant before the girl’s unblinking gray eyes. He took another breath, tightened his grip on his wooden sword, and thought back to why he was here.


He looked up an the manor, high, dark, and foreboding. It was the middle of the night, and the windows were dark. That made sense. The lord of the house was away, and the servants had little reason to be wandering the halls at night.
The lord of the house was away. Ashley Edward Hekaris was away. Donovan had overheard it from the guards at the gate. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It certainly made this easier, but a part of him longed to meet his father, if only to spit in his face. Ashley had slept with one of his servant girls, and when she became pregnant, he just threw her out into the street without a second thought. When the affair come to light, Ashley was expelled from the Eagle’s Cry Academy, and since then he had lived as a recluse in his country manor, accepting no visitors and neglecting his duties as lord of the land. And now, so it seemed, he had left entirely.
Most of the Hekaris family heirlooms had already been sold to pay the servants, so the guards weren’t exactly on high alert, and Donovan slipped past them with ease. It didn’t take him long to find the ring, either. It was just sitting in a drawer in the master bedroom. The drawer wasn’t even locked. Honestly, that was too easy.
It was better, Donovan decided, that Ashley wasn’t here. After all, he had the signet ring now. With it, he could prove that he was of Hekaris blood. He could enter the Eagle’s Cry Academy and succeed where his father had failed. He would surpass Ashley in every way, so that when they finally met, Donovan could put his father to shame.


Donovan broke from his reverie just as Centurion Rucker gave the order to begin. In the split second before they both started moving, Donovan met the girl’s gaze with an intensity that matcher her own. She might have training and creepy eyes, but he was Donovan Hekaris, and he would not lose here.

Donovan charged forward as soon as the fight began. If he could just catch the girl off guard, he was sure he could beat her. His strong legs propelled him forward startlingly fast, and in the split second before he swung his wooden sword, he saw the girl’s eyes widen in surprise. This was it. He’d won.

The was a loud crack of wood against wood as the girl absorbed the force of Donovan’s blow with her own blade. She rode the force of Donovan’s swing as she gracefully slid sideways, and Donovan suddenly found himself plunging towards the edge of the ring. Closer and closer, one more step and he’d be out.

No! It wouldn’t be that easy! Donovan plunged his sword into the ground to stop his momentum, then pushed off the blade to throw himself back. A split-second later, the girl’s sword arced through the air where he had been. Donovan silently thanked a life on the streets for giving him excellent senses and intuition. He turned to face the girl, and raised his sword to counter-attack. Wait, where was his sword? Oh bloody hell. It was still stuck in the ground!

The girl lunged at Donovan, murder in those horrible eyes. In the half-second before her blade reached him, Donovan instinctively knew that she was too fast for him to dodge.


Don’t fight like a soldier. Fight like a rat.


Donovan’s body moved on its own, kicking the sand from beneath his feet so that he fell to the ground. The girl’s sword sailed over him, and Donovan kicked out at her feet, knocking her to the sand as well.

Both combatants scrambled to their feet, and by some miracle, Donovan was standing first. He ran to his sword, still stuck in the ground, and wrenched it free, whirling around just in time to deflect the girl’s next attack. He lunged forward, pinning her sword with his, and slammed his forehead into hers. She stumbled back, dazed, and Donovan stumbled forward to press the attack. Unfortunately, he was also a little dazed, and the girl managed to sidestep his awkward lunge.

Each combatant took a few steps back, eyeing each other warily as they struggled to regain their senses. Donovan moved first, dragging his sword along the ground as he charged forward once again. The girl raised her sword to defend, but it wasn’t necessary. Donovan misjudged the distance and swung too soon, his sword tip passing over a foot in front of her. He could see the girl shift her weight, preparing for the strike that would end this fight with her as the victor.

But Donovan hadn’t misjudged. With that swing, Donovan had launched some of the sand beneath their feet directly at her eyes. The girl shut her eyes against the barrage of sand, and in that instant, Donovan slammed into her, knocking her backwards towards the edge of the ring. He forced her back by sheer muscle power, her tiny frame barely slowing him down. The edge was eight feet away. Four feet. Two feet more, and then he would win. He, a street urchin, would win against a trained warrior. He was elated.

Suddenly, the girl’s feet dug into the ground, and her weight shifted. She shoved Donovan to one side, and he just kept on going. Donovan slid past her and fell out of the ring. He was out. He had lost.

“Hahaha! Bloody well done, both of you.” Donovan pushed himself up onto one knee and looked around. Optio Feral was standing a few feet away, watching the fight. For that matter, so were four of the other students. The optio continued. “Donovan, good use of your resources against a superior opponent. Take a good look, cadets, that’s how people fight in the real world. As for you, Robin, I can only say that you live up to your reputation. Except for when Donovan head-butted you, you were pretty well in control the whole time.”

“Tche. This armor’s too heavy. If I could move properly, he’d never have hit me.” The girl’s voice was low and proud, positively dripping with a sense of superiority. “Optio, are we done here?”

Optio Feral sighed, covering his eyes with his hand. “Blimey. No need to get defensive, it was a compliment. Yeah, we’re done. Alright cadets, line up!”

The cadets dutifully lined up in front of Optio Feral, who was quickly joined by Centurion Rucker. “Good job, cadets. Luke and I need to discuss your performance, so I suggest you head to the mess hall for breakfast. Meet back here at a quarter past dawn."

As the cadets scurried out of the sand pits and towards the west gate of the Proving Grounds, Centurion Rucker turned to his Optio. “Well, what did you think?”
“Not bad, all in all. Ropes is smart, but he needs to learn to make his plans more fluid. Demuth is good, one of the best here, but I think he’s already at his limit. Wise obviously learned to fight as a kid, because she keeps forgetting that she’s not as strong as her opponents. Bane is a mediocre swordfighter at best, but that’s only because he’s using knife-fighting moves. Jesavah is, of course, bloody amazing, already better than most of our legionnaires. As for Hekaris, he’s pretty bad, but he’s also resourceful and he’s damned persistent.”

“Really? Nothing at all like his father, then. I wonder if that bodes well for him. In any case, Chappel’s a swashbuckler, but he’s good at it, so I suppose it’s excusable. Burkett isn’t all that good, but he has an archer’s physique, so I imagine hand-to-hand combat simply isn’t his forte. Lowstetter is very good, but he’s easily provoked. Finally, Millard doesn’t know a sword from a club, but he’s strong enough that it might not matter in the long run.”

Feral grinned. “Like I said, not a bad bunch. Who d’you think’ll make the cut? My money’s on Jesavah, of course, and Bane. Maybe Lowstetter, too, from what you’re telling me.”

“Jesavah I’ll agree on, of course,” Rucker replied. “I’m not too sure about Lowstetter. I honestly doubt he’ll make it. He’ll be a good swordsman, but he’d be a lousy Guardsman. My money’s on Millard, actually, since he seems to have a modicum of intelligence to match his physical strength. I’m hoping that Hekaris makes it too, if only because I’m a sucker for underdogs.”

“Hell, it’s certainly possible. You turned yourself around pretty good, Jeremy, so who’s to say he can’t?”

“Yes, well, if he does make it, let’s hope he lasts longer than I did. Some poster child I turned out to be.”