A Sword of Another(prologue)

The introduction of Hannas(first person) and Hurik.

My heart beat to the resounding pound of the spectators feet on the floorboards. My tongue was sandpaper against the stone of my mouth. There was a sharp pain in my right wrist and no amount of massaging could get it out. All i could do was grip the blades handle harder.

I stood beside men of the darkest caliber; they were murderers, rapists, and thieves alike. A Kyanic northman among them was nearly eight feet tall. He wore only a fur loincloth and mailed gaunlets. The Eccacian behind me continually ran a finger up his curved sword, complaining of its dullness.

Gaieinish of all origins crowded together in these slave holds beneath the Red Ground. The name of the arena made me look at the dirt floor. Its stark redness took me by surprise, and though i knew it wasn't from blood, the sight still made my skin crawl.

I closed my eyes, which already ached from being exposed to the dry climate. With a scream of hinges, which actually were rusted from blood splattered on them, the thick wooden doors swung out wide.

The Kyanic grunted and lunged outward, his chorded legs pumping to launch his massive body out into the killing ground. I refused to step forward, letting the others go first.

The Eccacian obliged, stepping around me and slashing his sword ferociously in an 'X' before him. The sun glistened on his tan, bald head. An aged Vese deserter unsheathed his chipped longsword and looked again at the straps of his dented shield before stepping out.

A scream sounded outside in the bright sun and I sensed someone die. Hurik woke. He took a deep breath through our nostrils. The smell of fresh blood was layered over years and years of old blood. Fear stained the air with its sour rank. Hurik smiled. This was where he belonged. It was a place of death, and in such a place, he could stay awake forever.

He looked out, a huge pale man was beating the life from an imperial archer with his gauntleted hands, even with a feathered shaft sprouting from his chest. A brown skinned swordsman played against an imperial spear man, but his sword wasn't nearly sharp enough to cut through the soldiers boiled leather jerkin.

A crossbow bolt spun past Huriks face but he hardly had to lean back to avoid it. His gaze fell upon the only gladiator to have any formal training, an ex-military by the look of his skills.

Hurik made a mental note to make sure that the man survived. He needed to build his army in this place if he hoped to succeed in the mission assigned. The old soldier wasnt great but he was better than the others. The giant was useless to Hurik and the dark skinned swordsman was hardly able to hold his own.

Hurik flexed the fingers of his left hand then placed the shortsword in it. Another bolt clicked as it was released from a crossbow. A quick slash to the side deflected what would have rammed in his thigh, and the shaft buried into the wooden wall not two feet behind him. Hurik focused in on the crossbowman. The small imperial stood about fifty feet away. Hurik decided to deal with him after.

One of the previously unremarkable gladiators was now distinguishing himself by beating back an imperial swordsman's attack using only a wooden staff that he bore with practiced ease. Hurik took note. All around though, the slave warriors were dying against the trained imperials. Taking a second to count, he saw twenty imperials and near forty gladiators, but the imperial bowman had herded a large portion of those into a circle and were slaughtering them.

The giant had left his archer in a bloody mess and moved onto fight a spearman. The griseled old soldier had killed two imperials but was being pushed back by two more. Hurik knew that he didn't have long.

Crouching into a racing stance and quickly closing the distance to him, Hurik sucked in a deep breath, full of searing midday heat. His run landed him beside one of the imperials.

The man was focused on the old soldier and didn't notice Hurik until his throat was laid open by a jab of the shortsword. The second was faster and managed to throw his shield arm up, blocking Hurik's downward slash. The old soldier took the chance and buried his longsword deep into the imperials gut.

The sight of the blood running down his blade made me sick. Revulsion almost made me flinch back but suddenly Hurik was in control again. He exhulted at the sight and felt a surge of strength.

The soldier didnt even acknowledge him, only yanked his blade from the defeated threat and turned to look for a new one.

Hurik spun on his heel and crouched low. A bolt sung as it sped past, only inches above his head. Hurik hurled himself to the ground as two arrows crisscrossed over the spot he'd just occupied. The bowman were taking the hint that they shouldnt be focused on the frenzied, screaming slave warriors.

Hurik sprinted towards the nearest of them. The man was in the middle of rewinding his bulky crossbow. Hurik came on too fast and the imperial could only toss the weapon at Hurik to beg for mercy. Fury burned in Hurik, he had a deadly hatred of weakness. That fury fueled his arm as he brought the shortsword wide and nearly beheaded the man with a single hard cut. The death all around brought more strength and he felt invincible.

For the first time he noticed how almost every single spectator was focused on him. Hurik spat on the red dirt to show them what he thought.

He saw the line of four archers starting to draw in on him. With the crowd so intent, he knew he couldn't deflect the arrows without drawing less than wanted attention. All he could do was charge at them.

One of the bowman looked at the most recent body still pumping blood onto the ground, he broke, turned, and ran. The remaining three had looks of determined terror. They loosed. A simple sidestep caused two of the arrows to miss completely, but one was better timed and grazed our thigh.

I wanted to scream in agony, to lay down and beg for it to end. Hurik only gritted his teeth then put more force into his opposite leg to launch him forward. He covered the twenty feet to the archers in seconds.

The closest tried swinging his longbow like a staff but went high and Hurik opened his side with a jab. The boiled leather parted along with flesh and ribs. The man screamed but more blood came up than sound. Hurik stepped around him and was confronted by the other two.

Both had left their bows for small dirks they carried on calf-sheaths. One was small for a bowman, but the other was of height with Hurik. Together they attacked.

Jabbing and slashing clumsily, they're bulging arms were obviously only good for pulling a bowstring. Hurik's sword may have lacked the reach against a longsword, but the dirks were barely over a foot long. Hurik parried one slash then dodged a second. He cut into the bigger one's leg and the man staggered. Hurik kicked the other in the stomach then brought the blade's hilt into the first imperial's face. The large one fell back with a thud. Still standing but doubled over, the second didnt see his death come when Hurik slammed his blade onto the exposed neck. His spine splintered and he fell, still as death.

Hurik stepped over the body to look at the other. The man hadnt moved to get up. Hurik looked at his face and saw not fear but plain exhaustion.

"Rest now soldier," I said. Hurik left him lying there. No enjoyment in killing a defeated enemy.

Hurik saw that with the archers gone, the slaves had made quick work of the imperials lacking ranged weapons. Only a few spearmen remained, and they were pressed against the wall with near twenty slaves surrounding them. The giant was at their head. He had grown six more feathered appendages but none of them seemed to bother him.

Hurik felt himself grow weak as the fighting slowed. All across the arena were dead and dying, but none offered the sport he thrived on. I could tell he was feeling drowsy, and my limbs slowly became my own, all of which ached now. The cut on my leg burned terribly, my joints felt strained from all of the jerking to avoid arrows.

I sheathed my shortsword and went to see if the Vese deserter still lived. At least on that i agreed with Hurik, the man would be useful in coming days.

The cheering of the crowd brought me some content, knowing that our bloody show had pleased them meant that the slave masters would reward us tonight.

I rubbed the exhaustion from my eyes and started for the others across the arena.

Author's Note

Tell me what you think of the double personality, but any review is helpful

Reviews

[Joseph A. Noon]

Well J.X., I think that you’re rocked! It certainly shows through that you’re an avid reader. I think that that’s the problem nowadays, (especially with young writers,) is they don’t read enough. I thought that your prose was precise, and your vocabulary very extensive. The fact that you weren’t afraid to use obscured words was very refreshing, a rarity in today’s literary world. The fact that you played on a dual personality was especially unique. But maybe you should have played on Hurik’s weaker side, (the first person narrator,) a little more. What was his name, how did he arrive to his circumstances? Etc. etc. But all in all I thought it was a damn good story, with a pulp edge to it. To be quite honest it reminded me a lot of my writing. I think you would enjoy the writings of (Robert E. Howard). His stories are along the same vein of what I think you’re trying to capture. Anyway keep up the good work and feel free to checkout my stories

[J.X. Mason]

Thank you. And I find you're right about the lack of reading nowadays. How someone expects to improve their own writing without studying the works of already successful writers doesn't exactly work out in my mind. You don't build a house without looking at the ways it has already been done. At least that's how I think. As to the vocabulary, sometimes I actually worry that the more obscure words take away from the experience of someone who doesn't understand them, but it's reassuring to hear that they work well. For Hannas(the first person pov) the reason I don't tell much about him is because he hasn't had much of a part yet. I open with the battle, and Hurik, for a good hook. Hannas will have his part to play though. Ill be sure to check out Howard and your writing

[Walczak]

I enjoyed reading this, your writing itself is pretty damn good and I'm liking the idea of the dual personality, I had a similar idea myself in one of my stories a year or so back. Keep up the good work man :)

[Dusk's Dream. Dawn's Ho..]

This piece was great! Very inventive, and the vocabulary usage was astounding. The double personality aspect was interesting, although I do hope that you plan to later explain why and how the main character has a double personality, considering how it was just tossed in to this portion with no backstory thus far. I'd enjoy reading more of the story later to see just who this character is. I was also intrigued by the whole Roman-era gladiatorial display depicted here, but it definitely requires some explanation in later chapters.
Sincerely Yours,
Dusk's Dream. Dawn's Hope