part0009

“No, no, no, no,” Vern objected. “The real Ruger won’t need his precious magic sword. Get him another blade. Something on par with mine.”

Ruger gave Vern a dangerous look and said, “You’re always up for a challenge, aren’t you, Verner? It brings me joy to see there is fire in your guts.” He eyed Black Bane’s scabbard. “Who is the fool that is mishandling my equipment? Never mind.” He pulled free a short sword from Sticks’s hip. He patted her on the side. “May I borrow this?”

“You’re the captain,” Sticks said coolly. Ruger’s direct mannerisms caught her off guard. He wasn’t pushy but polished, direct but polite. He carried a natural charm that was captivating. Her heart sped up. She made an unlikely comment. “Be careful.”

Ruger spun the sword by the handle inside the palm of his hand. He flipped the blade side to side and studied its sharp edge. “It’s notched. Looks like you’ve been neglecting to put the stone to it. Has everyone forgotten how to care for their weapons?” He eyed Vern. “Let’s hope you haven’t forgotten how to fight.”

“I don’t know where you’ve been, Captain,” Vern said. He got into his sword-fighting stance. “But I’ve been fighting plenty. What have you been doing with yourself the last few years?”

“A good question. If I could only answer it in its entirety.” The company surrounded the combatants. “My, it’s good to have hard steel in my hand once again. Come on, Vern. Have a go at it. Make a move.”

“Whoever you are, you’re going to regret taking a shorter blade. I’ll carve you in two.” Vern locked his eyes on Ruger, dropped his sword into the ox guard position, and lunged.

Steel rattled against steel as Ruger snaked to the left and batted the longer sword aside with jarring effect.

Vern stumbled sideward, fought for his footing, and faced off again. He licked his puffy lips.

“You dropped your shoulder too soon,” Ruger said with a disappointed shake of his head. “Once again, you telegraphed your move. Whoever you have been fighting must not have been very good.”

Bearclaw and Horace chuckled.

Vern set his jaw and came at Ruger again. He turned his hips into a powerful swing.

Ruger jumped several feet backward as the edge of Vern’s sword tip scraped across the metal covering his chest. “That’s the spirit!”

Ruger and Vern exchanged sword-on-sword strikes with blazing fury.

Ruger parried with grace and power, dropping in tutorial tidbits as he did so. “Your elbows are extended. You flap like a chicken.” Bang! “I’ve seen bears with better footwork than you. Are your boots tied together?” Ching! Slice! “Oh my, this is worse than I thought. Your skill has deteriorated.”

Lathered up in sweat and chest heaving, Vern shouted, “It has not!” He locked both hands on his handle and redoubled his efforts. He unleashed all hell with his steel. He stabbed from the high guard, ox guard, and plow guard. He turned loose a final lethal wrath-guard swing.

Ruger knocked every strike aside in a blink of an eye. Without attacking, he batted aside Vern’s snakelike strokes with raw power. Sticks caught her breath. She’d seen Ruger fight before, but it wasn’t anything like the display he was putting on now. His form was perfect from head to toe. He was a true sword master.

In a blur of movement and with a flip of the wrist, Ruger knocked the longsword out of Vern’s grip and held his short blade on the panting man’s throat. “Do you still take me for an imposter?”

Vern’s Adam’s apple rolled against the edge of the blade. “You are my brother in arms, my captain, Ruger Slade. Of this I have no doubt.”

Ruger’s eyes narrowed. Tension hung in the air. Every breath was stifled. “You were insubordinate, Vern. You should never question the captain, no matter who is in his skin. I could cut your head off… but I won’t. This time.” He flipped the short sword back to Sticks. She snatched it out of the air and sheathed it. He grabbed Vern and wrapped him up tight. “’Tis grand to see you, brother!”

“You too!” Vern hugged him back. “You too!”

The often-quiet Prospero threw up a fist stained with Wild Men blood and said, “Slade the Blade returns! The captain of captains is back!”

Ruger embraced all his men with hugs and fierce armlocks. Sticks had never seen a group of men so tight. It was a brotherhood with roots that ran deep.

“I see many new faces, but many are gone as well. Dare I ask?” Ruger said.

“I couldn’t keep them all alive without your help,” Shades said as he stepped into Ruger’s view.

“Ho! If it isn’t the Night Possum!” Ruger swallowed Shades up in his long arms and crushed him like a child. “I should have known that you would squirt away from any disaster.” He let Shades free of his powerful embrace. He addressed them all. “You’ll have to forgive my elation. My rigid demeanor that you’re accustomed to escapes me at the moment. I’ve come from a strange land ruled by greed and despair, polluted by chronic noise that would jangle a troglin’s bones… Hello…” His voice trailed off as his eyes landed for the first time on Solomon. “What do we have here?”