The fighters on the other team began to walk forward, and seeing them, the group of the underground army stepped forward, weapons raised, ready to fight.
Branden moved forward, Talitha and Jake flanking him.
Three other fighters broke from the crowd of other fighters, and moved to confront them, eagerness and happiness visible on their faces.
The one in the front looked very familiar to Branden. He was . . . well, Branden had seen him before, that he was sure of.
Then when he looked straight at Branden, the fighter knew. He was the man that had been in the cleaning rooms, always listening to their meetings!
Just another prisoner. I wonder if he’s one of the bad ones, or if he wants to escape this place. Will I ever know? Branden thought.
They closed the distance, and Branden drew his sword, as did Talitha. Jake had a spear already pointed for the enemy.
“Get them, team!” Branden called, and the three leaped to fight.
Branden met the first one head on, and the other two clashed with Talitha and Jake. Branden swung his broadsword in an arc over his head, and his enemy lunged to deflect it. The two exchanged several fierce clashes.
The man was good, there was no doubt about that, Branden realized.
Branden brought his blade down and smashed it heavily onto the other man’s shoulder armor. The man staggered, but he was already thrusting with his own sword, which left a large dent in Branden’s stomach armor.
The two quickly disengaged, and with their swords slightly lowered, circled wearily. Both had scored strikes, and both had seen the other’s power.
Then the man lunged at Branden.
Branden ducked, and using the trick that Talitha had used on him their first fight, grabbed the man’s legs and belt, and face planted him into the hard packed dirt of the arena.
He let out a strangled cry and kicked out with his feet, knocking Branden hard in the chin, spinning him half around, and dropping him into the dirt.
The two scrambled for their swords but they were too far away. Branden leaped toward the man, both arms stretched out wide to grapple.
Branden’s enemy fell onto his back, and his foot shot out, striking Branden in the stomach. Branden gasped and went with the swing of the man’s foot, hurling himself over his opponent and sprawling out in the dust.
The man chuckled and forcing himself onto his knees, leaped on top of Branden. He struck him hard in the chest and sent a fist for his unprotected neck, but Branden lifted his armored hand and stopped the blow before it fell.
The man growled and lifted his hand for another blow, but Branden drew a knife that was concealed in one of his armor plates, and stabbed out, cutting the man through an unprotected placed in his arm, and giving along, painful gash.
Branden’s opponent screamed and clutched at his arm.
With a shove, Branden got the man off of him, and rolled up to a kneeling position. He sheathed the knife, and lunged for his sword.
He landed on his stomach just as his fingers curled around the hilt, giving a new strength that rushed into him.
He glanced around, and saw that the other fighters were doing somewhat well.
He turned back to his opponent, just in time to see the blade rushing up toward him. He cried out and tried to deflect it, but it slammed into his stomach, and carried upward, as the metal of the sword screamed against the metal of Branden’s armor. The dent drew up allthe way on his chest, and falling into the dent that had been created earlier where the armor was already weak, snapped the breastplate.
Now a gaping hole in the armor right at Branden’s heart could be seen.
The man smiled when he saw the opening and drove for it.
Branden stumbled back, recovered himself, and quickly moved his sword just in time to completely deflect the fatal cut.
He then moved forward, but the man was angered by the thwarted victory, and he pressed hard, slowly forcing Branden back, until one blow completely blew Branden’s sword hilt from his hand. Branden cried out.
The man lunged and shouldered Branden in the chest. Branden tripped over himself and landed hard on his side, losing his sword immediately.
He rolled onto his back, but saw his opponent standing over him, sword raised, a grin on his scarred face.
“Now to destroy you! You prisoners were always not very hard to defeat!” he swung downward, and Branden had no time to move out of the way, but he had a little time to think. He was confused by the man’s words.
“You prisoners were always not very hard to defeat!” Isn’t he a prisoner too? Just like us? Who is this man?
Enjoy? I hope so! Tell me what you thought of it in the comments below!
Caleb E King
Copyright © 2018 Caleb E King
All rights reserved.
Note: This piece of work has been specifically selected and edited for the convenience of the readers, and came from a novel in progress. Not an official piece of the novel.