Quest of the Grim Sword
by Dana DeVries
   The midday sun shone down upon the streets of San Cristobal where
brightly clad vendors and customers mingled and shifted in an intricate mercantile
dance. The ancient domes of Crescent buildings stood cheek to cheek with churches
and towering palatial homes as a man slipped through the crowd. Although he
stared about in bewilderment at the people and towering buildings clustered around
him,
his natural timing and grace allowed him to move quickly through the throngs
of people.
   He wore a newly tailored black outfit over a white silk shirt, but
his sword belt and boots were comfortably worn. His face seemed far younger
than his grey hair would account for and a smile often crossed his lips as he
asked
for directions to Casa Aldana. He finally arrived at a large, unassuming home
set with sturdy doors directly upon the plaza. Several servants were loading
a canvas covered wagon directly in front of the marble steps leading up to
the door.
   The man strode confidently up to the door and raised his hand to pound
upon it just as it opened. A harried looking servant strode out with his arms
were so filled with boxes and bundles that he blundered straight into the man
who stepped back gracefully. The servant bowed his head and immediately apologized
as he reached for the boxes he had dropped.
   "My apologies, senor. I did not see you there.May I help you?"
   The man straightened himself and said expectantly. "Think nothing
of it. I am the Grim Sword. Don Marcos Rivera del Rios, son of Don Julian Rivera
del Rios and I seek Don Aldana in a matter of honour."
   "I regret that Don Alejandro is in the Vaticine city..."
   "Ah, my error. I meant Don Millano Rios del Aldana."
   "Again my apologies, Don Marcos. Don Millano left this morning. His
ship sails with the tide We are not certain as to when he will be returning."
   Don Marcos furrowed his brow slightly "Did he say what boat he was
sailing on?"
   "El Corazon del..." A startled look crossed the servant's face. "Pardon
me, but did you say that you are the son of Don Julian Rivera del Rios? The
butcher of Soldano?"
   Del Rios' eyes narrowed and he nodded. "That is indeed my father, but I suggest you do not dishonour his name. I am in the middle of a vendetta right now and I'd hate to interrupt it for the likes of you." His
hand dropped to his sword and the servant's face blanched.
   The servant dropped the bundles at his feet and stepped back into
the house. Del Rios smiled in amusement as he heard the steward yelling for
help inside. He turned from the Aldana Estate and looked about before stepping
up
to a street vendor selling cool drinks.
   He asked for directions to the docks, bought a drink and tipped her well. Before he turned, he felt a hand upon his shoulder. Whirling around, he saw that the servants from the wagon had clustered about him and drawn steel. Drawing his own blade, del Rios called out, "I
was just leaving. Are you certain you wish to challenge me with only six men?"
   One of the servants rushed forward with his sword raised high. The
swordsman swept his own blade up in a salute that turned into a strong parry.
Before the man could recover, the swordsman dashed his drink into the man's
face, stepped in close behind him, reached up and took the sword from his hand.
   As the servant opened his mouth to speak, del Rios brought his own
sword hilt down sharply upon the man's neck. As he crumpled, two other servants
rushed from opposite sides. Del Rios extended his two swords in a graceful
bow that neatly intercepted both incoming weapons.
   He swayed from one side to the other for a moment as his arms gracefully
twisted and turned to parry each of their attacks. Then he turned to one of
them, his blades knocked aside the servant's weapon, and a quick thrust pierced
the
man's forearm. With a curse, the man dropped his weapon and clutched the wound.
   The servant behind del Rios thrust towards his back but a quick side
step allowed the sword to pass him harmlessly. A single slash across his hand
and that servant dropped his weapon and backed away as well. The remaining
men hung back fearfully from the smiling swordsmaster.
   "As I was saying. I was just leaving. Surely you three should look after your wounded comrades?" With
an elaborate gesture, Don Marcos sheathed his own weapon.
   A heartbeat later, the door to the Aldana Estate slammed open and
a horde of men swept through the doors led by the steward who pointed at the
lone swordsman and shouted.
   Don Marcos scowled. "This is really becoming quite tedious."
   Turning from the oncoming guards, he stepped lightly upon the back
of the unconscious man and leapt onto the wagon. Two more steps and he was
jumping off the far end of it into the plaza's crowd with Aldana's men in angry
pursuit.
   The street was less crowded than the plaza and the pedestrians quickly
made way for a man carrying a bare blade and chased by a mob of guards. Ahead
of him, Don Marcos saw a slow moving wagon filled with barrels rolling down
the street ahead of him. He raced up to it and slashed out with his captured
sword.
   Coming to a halt a step later, he turned with a triumphant grin, only
to notice that a pair of dirty young children stood only a few yards behind
him staring at the wagon in fascination. The barrels slowly began to topple off
the
wagon with the dull slosh that indicated they held enough ale to crush the
children into pulp.
   Del Rios dropped his weapon, took two running steps, dove beneath
the slowly falling barrels and swept the two street urchins out of the way.
The barrels smashed into the ground with a series of bone shaking crashes and
covered
the street with the ale. Del Rios sighed deeply and gave each of the two children
a rub on their head as he straightened up.
   Then without turning from them, he drew his own sword in a flicker
of movement and swept it behind his back to parry the stab of the first of
Aldana's men.
   Turning
from the children, his feet began to tap forward through the frothy ale
in a series of quick short steps that carried him into the midst of
the first four of his pursuers.
   The first man lashed out again, but del Rios tapped the blade aside
and then tapped the blade again from the other side in time to his quick steps.
The swordsmaster took three short steps back and his opponent rushed forward,
only to feel his feet slip beneath him on the slick ale-soaked cobblestones.
   The next man thrust for del Rios' chest, but he dashed the blade to
one side and slashed across his chest. The cut, though shallow, was enough
to convince the man to retreat from the fray. Before the others could move, del
Rios began prancing in the circle of his foes as his blade whisked out in furious
fashion.
   Within a handful of breaths, all of his opponents were disarmed and
sporting minor slashes and bruises.
   They backed slowly away from him.
   Raising his blade to his face, del Rios smiled then he whisked it
down and started towards the docks again. He had only gone a few yards when
he heard shouts from behind him. Another group of Aldana guards had just come
into
sight and were rushing past the opponents he had defeated towards him.
   As he broke into a run, he muttered, "How much does Aldana pay these
men?"
   Del Rios slipped by dozens of Castilians strolling through the streets
of San Cristobal while the men behind him ploughed them aside in an effort
to reach the elusive swordsman. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed a handful
of them suddenly splitting away to run down a side street to the right.
   Scanning the area, he realized that the street was gradually curved
that way as well and the shops on the street were giving way to the shops and
inns that cater to sailors, but only after they've expended themselves on the
bars, tattoo parlours and brothels that line the docks. With a whispered curse,
he remembered the vendor had given him the easiest path to the dock, not the
quickest.
   Del Rios turned onto a side street. The traffic here was lighter and he noticed a sign showing some sort of angel before him. "Posada
de la Damisela Fugada."
   He had barely taken another step when he noticed a blockade of Aldana
guardsman lined up across the street. He didn't dare face those behind as well
as those in front, so he charged into the midst of those in front, hoping to
break through them quickly.
   Del Rios drew his blade and rushed into their midst.
   Parrying blows on every side, he pressed forward towards "Posada de la Damisela Fugada".
He twisted his blade and pulled his cuts so that none of the men were injured
too badly. After all, they were doing their job and he could find no fault
in the manner in which they did it.
   Just as he reached the Inn, a handful of men all wearing black followed
by a lone swordsman rushed out of an adjacent warehouse and smashed into the
melee. Everything dissolved into chaos as blades began flailing wildly and
every man tried to determine whose side the new combatants would take. Del Rios
ducked
and slashed out, pivoted and thrust for several desperate moments, weaving
a a song of ringing steel around himself.
   As one of the Aldana men finally got through his guard and cut a shallow gash across his arm, del Rios shouted out, "You
men may be good, but I swear you will not stop me from reaching Millano Aldana!"
   Time froze for an instant as everyone pulled away from his whirling
blade. In the sudden opening, he thrust his sword into his belt, leapt up and
grabbed the sign. Clambering up, he realized that the best handholds were rather
inappropriate places to touch an angel, but he did not pause long enough to
apologize. He scrambled onto the roof and saw only a few low buildings lay between
him and
the docks and El Corazon was plainly visible pulling away from the dock.
   A sudden shout from below attracted his attention. Another man, wearing
a voluminous black cloak, climbed onto the roof and faced him. He was a tall,
thin man with intense green eyes and a mouth that smiled frequently. But not
now.
   With a tired sigh, the man asked del Rios, "Don't your kind ever tire of wearing black?" As
he spoke, his weapon hissed out of its sheath and slashed forward.
   "My kind?" del
Rios' own weapon whispered out of his sheath and beat
the attack aside.
   His own weapon thrust towards his opponent but when the man's blade
lowered to parry, del Rios' blade dipped around it and slipped free.
   "I'm sure the first mercenary sell-sword to wear black leather probably
looked menacing and impressive. But now it's just tiresome."
   As he answered, the man drew a dagger with his off hand and parried
del Rios' blade.
   "Forgive me, senor. I hadn't realized I'd stepped astray into a clich.
And while you must have me confused with someone else, I feel obliged to point
out that you're wearing black too."
   A slash with the knife made del Rios backpedal a step and his riposte
was intercepted by both of the man's weapons crossed above his head.
   "Es verdad, but with me..." The man shrugged aside his cloak and revealed a black tabard intricately embroidered with four intertwined red roses around a white cross. "It's
a badge of office, not just a feeble attempt at a fashion statement."
   He launched another attack with his fencing sword. Del Rios lashed
out with his own blade and twisted his wrist sharply.
   The Knight's sword leaped from his hand and del Rios caught it in his free hand as he protested, "I
have no quarrel with you or the Knights of the Rose and Cross. After all, you
aided Gosse when he needed it. I just want to reach Aldana."
   For a moment, the man looked utterly lost. Then his face clenched in anger. "Gosse?
You mean Phillip Gosse? Damnation! You're the one who swore that oath down below?"
   Confused, del Rios nodded.
   The man continued, "I thought you were one of the men I was following. It's all the damned black clothing." The Knight of the Rose and Cross turned back to the edge of the roof and stared down. "No!
They're gone."
   Whirling back to Don Marcos, the Knight asked, "Did you see which
way they went? No, of course not. I was too busy distracting you. Listen, those
men stole something very important to my Order. Can you help me retrieve it?"
   "Forgive me, sir Knight, but I must catch El Corazon. It is a matter
of honor."
   "Look if I don't get that book back, the Inquisition will have enough
to burn us at the stake. Aid me now and I swear I'll help you track down that
ship later."
   Again the world seemed to pause a moment, as if a bell had rung without
sound and only the vibrations filled the air.
   Del Rios stared into the Knight's eyes for a moment. Then he nodded sharply. "Alright.
I will help you. I guess I owe Highport that much. So, I will be a deputy knight
or something? Is there a test I have to pass or anything like that?"
   "Do you protect the innocent?"
   The swordmaster shrugged. "I try."
   "Do you bring justice to the unjust?"
   Del Rios grinned humourlessly. "That's the reason I seek for Aldana."
   "Will you protect those who wear the Rose and Cross?"
   Del Rios paused. "For now."
   "Good enough for me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Francisco
Garcia del Torres."
   "Don Marcos Rivera del Rios, the Grim Sword."
   "I'd drop the title. Anyway, come on. We've got to catch those thugs
before they deliver the book to the Inquisition."
   The Knight began to lightly run across the rooftop with del Rios at
his side.
   "Where are you headed? I thought you said they were gone?"
   "For now, yes. However, they will take it back to their den first.
Look it over to see if there's anything in there of use to them first."
   "Is there?"
   "Not unless they can read ancient tikat-baraji." The Knight did not
even slow down when he reached the end of the roof; he leapt the street below
and continued on.
   Del Rios kept pace without a problem.
   "Teeka what?" "Tikat-baraji, the sacred religious dialect of the Crescent Empire." Del
Rios was impressed. He'd heard tales of fabulous wealth in the mysterious lands
east of Vodacce. Perhaps he would venture there himself someday, but for now
there was urgent business at hand.
   "So do you have a plan or are we simply barging in and dealing with
a half dozen armed men?"
   "Worried? You were facing more than that back there."
   "No. I'm just tired of surprises."
   Another street and another low rooftop passed beneath their feet.
   "If they're acting like they were back at the Chapterhouse, they'll
have one man keeping watch. You deal with him and I'll take care of the others."
   "Why do you have all the fun?"
   With a grin, del Torres answered, "Because you are just a deputy knight." Shaking his head, he continued. "Actually,
the six men are just thugs, I can handle them. But they must have expected trouble
breaking into the Chapterhouse because they hired an expert swordsman. One of
the best I have ever seen. You just have to stall him for a little while."
   "Just stall him? You say that like you think he's better than I am."
   "I don't know. I know you are a better swordsman than I am. I know
he is a better swordsman than I am. I just don't know if you're good enough to
best him."
   "How encouraging. Any other words of advice?"
   "Don't let him get too close. Every time I closed with him, he'd
parry my sword aside and strike me with his fist."
   The knight slowed to a stop and held up one hand. "Wait. See there. That's him." He
pointed down into the alley beneath them.
   A tall, strong man with outlandish bright multi-coloured scarves,
a bandana and earrings stood alone before the entrance to a sailor's dive called
El Loro Pulgoso.
   Del Rios whispered to his companion, "So how did you get past him
last time?"
   "I cut a tapestry down onto him and ran after the ones who had the
book."
   "Wonderful. Alright. I'll go deal with him and you take care of the
others."
   "Done."
   Del
Rios leapt from the roof and dropped lightly onto the street below. Even
under the bright afternoon sun, the street was dimly lit with the buildings
pressing in from both sides. The gaily-attired man raised an eyebrow in surprise.
   "Now swordsmen are falling from the sky?"
   "Just from the rooftop. I'm supposed to keep you busy."
   "Are you sure you're up to it, old man?"
   "Appearances can be deceiving. I'm younger than I look."
   "Well, then maybe this will be a challenge." The man drew a length
of steel in one hand without touching the dagger at his side.
   As Del Rios drew his sword, he asked, "Don't feel the need for your
other weapon?"
   "I'd hate to have it said Tracey Anvilin only defeated you because
he used two weapons."
   "You seem fairly confident."
   "Yes. But then so do you."
   Del Rios launched a series of quick cuts but Anvilin easily parried
the blow. When del Rios launched a high thrust, Anvilin returned it with a lightning
fast riposte that was tapped aside. Anvilin thrust towards him again and again.
After a moment, del Rios smiled.
   "What's so amusing?" Anvilin asked as he continued to probe for weaknesses
in the Castilian's defences.
   "Just...this." del Rios dashed his opponent's blade to the side and
spun around. His blade slashed out at head level without encountering any resistance.
   Realizing his danger, he dropped to the ground as a blade pierced
his fluttering cloak above him. He rolled to the side, sprang to his feet, and
glanced around.
   Anvilin stood to one side grimacing. "Nicely done.   I thought I had you."
   "Likewise."
   A loud crash from inside the bar distracted them for a moment. Then the Avalon said, "Well, let's try it again." He
charged forward swinging down broadly with the sword in both hand.
   Del Rios dodged to one side, but before he could counterattack, he
had to dodge again. The blows continued raining down, coming down strongly whenever
he paused to riposte. He tried to parry the blows, but the strength of the beating
attacks numbed his hands. After a moment, he rushed past the Avalon swordsman's
offside.
   With astonishing speed, Anvilin slashed across at him with the blade
in his left hand at waist height. Del Rios struck the blade down, jumped over
the blade and hit the ground rolling. Stopping suddenly, he lashed out behind
him and sliced into his opponent's shin. Incredibly, Anvilin brought his feet
back so the cut was just a scratch. Del Rios stood while staring at his opponent
with narrowed eyes. Anvilin just shook his head in amazement.
   The two crashed together in a flurry of steel rapid enough that it
was impossible to follow the paths of the blades. Still, neither one could gain
an advantage.
   Anvilin stepped back, panting slightly. "You're very good. Your teacher
must be very proud of you. How is Julian del Rios?"
   "He is well. Complains about his scars whenever it rains, but otherwise,
he is well. How did you know?"
   "I studied with him briefly before he was exiled. A fine swordsman
and a good teacher. I think you might be his equal with a blade."
   "High praise from the man who has fought me to a standstill."
   "Well, I do have an advantage. I know your moves, your style. And
I have a dozen different schools to draw upon to use against you."
   "A dozen schools? Why so many?"
   "I've discovered that each has something to teach me. You are extremely
skilled, but too limited. You know the Aldana School..."
   "The del Rios school!"
   "My apologies. You know your school intimately. But you don't have
any other techniques to fall back upon should your school be at a disadvantage."
   "Again?"
   "You do realize that your friend has the book already." The Knight
of the Rose and Cross slightly sheepishly emerged from the doorway to the bar.
He held a wrapped bundle in one hand.
   Incredulous, del Rios asked, "You knew? Why did you prolong this
if you knew he was going in the other way?"
   "My employers instructed me to guard this door and allow no one to
enter. No one has. I left the defence of the rest of the bar to them. Besides,
when we faced the Knight earlier, they abandoned me to fight him while they scurried
off like rats. I have little sympathy for them or their plight."
   "I see." After a pause, del Rios shook his head.
   "I'd like to finish this. Find out who is better."
   He glanced at the Knight of the Rose and Cross. Del Torres simply
nodded. The Avalon agreed.
   For a long moment, the two men stared at each other and then the Castilian
raised his blade in salute. The Avalon followed suit. They came together with
a clash of steel. Long seconds passed as the two men vied for an advantage. Each
attack was parried and each riposte missed its target. Del Rios pressed harder,
swaying from side to side and bouncing slightly.
   He kept reaching out with his sword for Anvilin's head again and again
in an increasing tempo. Suddenly he swung his sword around and slashed down at
his opponent's legs.
   But the Avalon was ready. He slammed his blade down upon the Castilian's
and drove it into the ground and swung out with his off hand fist. The blow sent
del Rios crashing to the ground. He looked up to find Anvilin's sword poised
above his chest. He bent his head in submission and steeled himself for the killing
blow. But it never came, instead Anvilin helped him to his feet.
   "Now you know who is better, at least today." Don Marcos bowed before
his Avalon opponent.
   "Thank you.
   Now I must take my leave to seek Don Millano and justice for my father." "He's had years to learn as well. It won't be an easy fight." "I'll
take your advice while I seek him. Study another style or two. Prepare further.
I must not fail in my task."
   "Good luck to you, sir."
   "And you? What are your plans?"
   "I shall do what I always do. Look for more work. It's a sell-sword's
lot."
   "Care to travel with me for a while? It won't pay much, but I guarantee it won't be boring." Tracey Anvillin smiled. "Why not?" Fransisco Garcia del Torres spoke up as well. "In
return for his assistance, I have vowed to aid Don Marcos in his quest for justice.
   We should probably get about it." The two swordmasters and the Knight
strode out of the dockside slum discussing some of the finer points of Castillian
swordsmanship.