“No,” said the old Halfling.
“Excuse me?” said the elf. She came around the bench to join her partner. “What did you say?”
The Halfling ignored the warning in her tone. “I said ‘no’. I won’t give it to you. It’s worthless. Just brass.”
“Must be worth something if you won’t give it up,” said the human pirate. The elf held a hand up to him, a smile twisting at the corners of her lips.
She had wanted this to happen. Rinka’s eyes caught the movement of the elf’s hand to her side and the flash of steel she produced.
The events that followed proceeded at such incredible speed, it was only Rinka’s excellent vision that allowed her to track them. The elf’s sword slashed towards the Halfling but was stopped with aclang. Drystan’s impossible blade had met the elf’s steel a moment before it could meet flesh. The human pirate, his reflexes poorer than the others, dropped the bag of stolen goods, and its glittering contents spilled over the floor, where the passengers scrambled to reclaim them. Rinka crossed the aisle in a bound and scooped the Halfling into her arms. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the human pirate fumble for his sword at his side as the elf and Drystan clashed, the force of Drystan’s large body shoving her backwards into a group of passengers who clambered out of the way of the fight.
The elf laughed.
The Halfling cowered behind Rinka for protection, but she was frozen in place. She had seen plenty of disagreements resolved with old-fashioned fisticuffs, but her normal course of action was to keep as far from the action as possible. The other passengers must have had the same instinct because they had begun to flee out the door at the back of the cabin.
“Eyes to the aft,” yelled the elf to the floundering human. “You’re losing them.”
Drystan took advantage of her momentary distraction to charge her. She parried at the last possible moment—any later and Drystan would have finished the “X” across her face.
The cabin of the boat was half empty now, leaving a large open space for their duel, which they took advantage of. Steel met whatever strange material Drystan’s sword was made from again and again with dizzying speed. Rinka felt the Halfling creep away behind her, but she stood still, mesmerized by the deadly ballet before her.
Drystan’s sword was a remarkable thing in motion. The illusion of the blade, which seemed to vanish entirely from certain angles, confounded the elf.
“What the blazes is that thing?” she shouted as she ducked another of Drystan’s attacks that she only saw coming just before it would have hit her. “I’ve never seen magic like it.”
They separated for a moment, both panting. Drystan did not answer her.
“Tell you what,” she said. “I’d love to have a sword like that. Give it to me, and we’ll forget this whole thing. You’ll be on your way, head still intact. Deal?”
She lowered her own weapon, a paltry curved blade of ordinary steel, and held out her hand to shake.
“No deal,” said Drystan, and he dove to his left just in time to collide with the human pirate who had lunged for him while he was distracted by the elf.
There was a sickening slicing sound as blade met flesh. Rinka looked away, her stomach in her throat as the pirate began to scream.
“My leg! You took my bloody leg!”
“You idiot!” yelled the elf.
Rinka dared to peek, holding her hand up to her brow to cover her eyes if she couldn’t take it. The blood ran along the floor, spreading in a strange pattern from the boat’s motion.
Rinka retched. She had been a butcher by trade, sure, but there was a difference when the blood belonged to a living being.
The human had fallen onto a bench, clutching at his missing limb and trying in vain to stop the bleeding. The elf ran over, removing her belt and tying it around the wound.
“Quit your whining. It’s your own fault. You’re lucky it’s such a clean cut.” She looked at Drystan to assess his intentions.
He lowered his weapon. At least, that’s what Rinka thought he did. She couldn’t see the sword from this angle.
“What is the meaning of this?” The voice came from the door at the back, but it was not the captain she had been hoping to see.
The man who entered, a hobgoblin with a dozen piercings in his pointed ears, did not seem especially intimidating to her considering he only came up to her knees. Yet the elf immediately jumped up and to attention, and even the human attempted to do the same before realizing he could not stand.
“Sir, the passengers—”
The hobgoblin who must have been their captain held up a tiny hand to silence her. “No bloodshed. You had only one order.” His voice was deeper than Rinka would have expected for someone his size, and the authority in it made Rinka stand up a little straighter as well.
“But sir, he started it—”
