Saint Elm's Deep (The Legend of Vanx Malic Book 3) by Mathias M. R

Author:Mathias, M. R. [Mathias, M. R.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2013-11-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

I cast this wreath into the sea

-to satisfy Nepton.

Shelter well into the depths

those souls you’ve taken on.

-- a prayer to the god of the sea.

The taunting had the effect Vanx intended it to. Not only had he angered and flustered the rammaton, but his confidence gave the bigger man pause. The seed of doubt Vanx had planted, he would now nurture, so that it would ripen, all in hopes of ending this before it got out of hand. Besides all of that, the gargans seemed to like his cockiness. He hoped that it would go far in earning their respect.

Rammaton Tytak came in first with a wide, but not entirely clumsy, swing that Vanx easily avoided. The big man’s blade was so heavy that Vanx had no trouble darting in behind it. He whacked the huge, bare-armed warrior across the biceps with the flat of his slim blade, hard. The resounding pop of metal on flesh made a sound resembling a breaking branch, but drew no blood. Vanx knew that it had to sting, though, and that the man would instinctively think he had been cut. He darted out of range of the rammaton’s sword, forcing his foe to find him again.

Vanx had a determined grin on his face, he knew. He was enjoying this now. He was getting a feel for the rammaton’s skill, or lack thereof. He sidestepped, lunged a jab in, and then kicked away a twisting backstroke. He dove through the rammaton’s legs, then, and rolled to his feet behind him. Half a heartbeat later he had his blade laid against the gargan’s neck from behind. He was hoping that his display of acrobatic dexterity would cause the other man to yield, but he had no such luck.

Rolling away from the edge of Vanx’s blade, the gargan came around and dropped to a knee. Vanx had been extended to keep his tip up along his taller foe’s neck. By the time he adjusted, the heavy sword was cutting at his legs low and surprisingly fast. He did the only thing he could do, which was jump up and hope to clear the cleaving steel. He only managed it by drawing his knees up to his chest, and it was a close thing. He couldn’t counter because he had to work on landing on his feet and keeping his balance.

He saw the angry bright pink stripe he’d put on the gargan’s arm as the man twisted with the momentum of his swing. Vanx nearly broke his ankles for that brief lapse of concentration. He had to drop and roll away to keep from injuring himself, and by the time he was back on his feet and ready, the gargan was already closing in.

Had he not been wearing thick furred britches, he would’ve earned more than the stripe he got across his thigh. It was far wider than the one he’d given the rammaton. As it was, the flat of the heavy blade hit him so hard that it knotted his muscle and nearly snapped the bone in two.

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