Dreams Built by Blood and Blade

Chapter 38: Chapter 37: My First Day as a Bandit


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Chapter 37

 

“No! Not like that! Your feet! Watch your fucking feet!” Bertrand steps right in between my two legs and swings his sword at the same time. I want to step backwards and give myself more space to dodge but my right foot trips over his leg and I start to fall backwards. Seeing this, he doesn’t let me fall down on my own but rather smashes his sword into my stomach, sending my body crashing into the ground, my head bouncing upwards when it lands. That fucking hurt! I grab my stomach and the back of my head in pain while rolling over onto my side. When the dust settles, Bertrand tosses my sword on the ground next to my face and shouts, “Again!” 

 

Apparently, this is what we signed up for when we told Quinn we wanted to join his gang. Quinn asked his leader, Derriv, and Derriv sent Bertrand to check me out and see whether I was worthy of joining or not. Incidentally, Quinn’s in charge of Wraine and they left earlier in the morning which is why I didn’t get any help when I was being kidnapped from our room. It turns out Farland is pretty familiar with Derriv’s gang and when Bertrand asked him for a key to my room, Farland gave it to him. That fucking traitor. Since then, we’ve been practicing with our swords the whole day. Bertrand doesn’t believe in wooden swords and instead, he wrapped our swords tightly with thick linens he brought with him and have been using those for practice. When I told him I wanted to use my shield, he told me it was worthless in my hands as I am right now. 

 

Taking a kick to the stomach, I fall to my hands and knees as I skid across the dirt ground behind the inn. Stomach acid threatens to come up my throat but it stops before it reaches my mouth. He’s taking this way too far. Feeling angry, I grab a handful of dirt as I come to a stop from the skidding and when I see his legs in front of me, I toss the dirt at his face before stabbing my sword toward his face right after. He only needs to tilt his head to the side to avoid the dirt and before my sword reaches him, he does something with his own sword that flings my sword out of my grasp and he finishes it by smashing his sword down on my head. As I’m grabbing my head from the pain, he says, “Not a bad idea. But you’re a decade too early to even have a chance of that working on me. I think that’ll do it for today. Now sit down and tell me what you’ve learned.” Bertrand immediately sits down where he’s standing and places his sword across his lap. I do the same and start to sit when he yells at me to go grab my sword first. “You’re nothing without a sword in your hands right now. Remember, the sword is the greatest equalizer ever created in history because it lets a little shrimp like you become a threat to someone like me. Now, it’s a different story when I have a sword too but that’s for another time. Tell me what you’ve learned.”

 

Trying to ignore my aching head and the blisters on my hands, I try to remember everything he said to me while we were training and I slowly piece together his words along with his actions to create a complete picture of what he was trying to teach me. “You told me today was the most basic of the basics. You told me to keep my strikes short and lethal to make sure I don’t end up cutting myself. You told me no one knows how to use their legs when they’re fighting and if I have an opportunity to trip them, I should take it as long as I’m protecting my step-in with an attack. Finally, you told me to pay attention to my surroundings and never tunnel vision during fights; to use anything around me if I can and avoid anything that can trip me while fighting.”

 

Bertrand eyes me for a moment while he scratches his beard before saying, “Alright, at least it sounds like you’ve learned something. My swordplay isn’t like the nobles’ with fancy footwork and their prancing and dancing around. My sword is as simple as it gets. You aim for a killing blow and you do whatever it takes to get it. It doesn’t even have a name because it doesn’t need one. My sword is as dirty as it gets and I’ll do anything in a fight if it means I’ll win, you know why?” 

 

“Because the winner is the one who gets to decide who lives and dies?”

 

Bertrand smiles from ear to ear as he says, “That’s right. Quinn did say you were a smart one. Once your sword’s drawn, you better make damn sure whoever’s at the other end of it is down on the ground, bleeding out before you put it back in your sheath. Speaking of which, where the fuck is your sheath? Actually, where the fuck is your sword belt?” 

 

“Uhh, we didn’t have the coins to get any of those when we bought the swords.”

 

“Fucking hells, alright, you’re coming with me tonight. You ever been in a fist fight before?”

 

 

It was a wild sight. It’s a few hours after nightfall but the room, err, the arena we’re in is brightly lit with standing torches all around us. There’s countless topless men gathered around the center of the arena and everyone’s shouting as two topless men in the center of the ring beat the shit out of each other. One of them ducks under a punch thrown at him and when he rises back up, he throws his own punch and it connects, sending the other man flying, his blood, spittle, and at least two teeth leaving his mouth during the flight. The crowd erupts and I can feel the wooden floor beneath my feet shake from their excitement as my eardrums nearly burst from the noise. I’m torn out of my bewilderment when Bertrand grabs me by the arm and pulls me towards the ring. Wait. “Wait, wait, wait, wait. I’ve never been in a fight before, I don’t know how to fight!” 

 

“Doesn’t matter, I’m betting on the other guy regardless. Just make sure you protect your chin and if you see an opportunity, aim for his chin. Though with those sticks you call arms, it won’t do much even if you land a perfect counter. Just try not to die out there.” What!?

 

Before I can voice any more of my discontent, he takes my shirt off for me and tosses me into the ring. When I realize where I am, I slowly turn around to face my opponent. It’s a young man, definitely younger than 20 winters. He’s as skinny and frail looking as I am but there’s a look in his eyes that says he isn’t looking at a fellow human being but rather a lamb ready to be slaughtered. Oh gods. He has a bald head aside from a blond streak of hair at the very top of his head. Before I can ask if I can give up, a bell rings from somewhere outside the ring and the young man puts up his hands around his jaw and slowly inches towards me. Flabbergasted, I do the same and put my hands up as well. Okay, okay, okay, I can do this. Remember, protect your chin and aim for his chin. When the young man and I are right in front of each other, he throws out a left punch which I dodge and I throw out a punch of mine as well. It doesn’t hit anything except air and before I can pull back my arm, he grabs my arm and pushes me backwards. You can do that!? Right as I’m about to take a step back to stop myself from falling, I can feel something right behind my foot and before I know it, I’m lying flat on my back on the ring. I’m staring into the huge shiny orange brightstone above the ring and when I realize what’s happening, the sounds from the crowd seem to unsilence and flood back into my ears. Before I’m able to stand back up, a shadow falls on me and I lose consciousness. 

 

 

Oh, my poor fucking jaw. I’m carefully caressing my aching jaw as Bertrand and I walk down the dark road back to The Sleeping Hornet. I only woke up after Betrand carried me out of the arena and then splashed cold water in my face. Apparently, the arena and the fighting ring are in the basement of The Fighting Cock, which is an inn at the center of the entertainment district. When I put my shirt back on, we started heading back to The Sleeping Hornet. The entire time he’s been counting coins in his hands aloud but it doesn’t seem to be going well because he’s had to start over again quite a number of times. When I can see the inn, Bertrand finishes counting his coins and hands me a handful before saying, “Here’s 2 silver and 20 copper. That’s half of what I made by betting on your opponent. Take these coins and buy yourself a sword belt. You’ll need one sooner or later. I’ll come back tomorrow morning and start your training again. If you don’t want a faceful of cold water when I arrive, then make sure you’re awake by the time I get there.”

 

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I can only grunt at him in response and he starts heading back down the dark road, back towards the way we came from. Clutching the coins in my hands, even with my aching jaw and my wet hair, I can’t help but think I really made 2 silver and 20 copper just for getting my ass kicked. Hells, the last time I got my ass kicked, I got robbed and lost all my coins instead. Heading into The Sleeping Hornet, I can see Wraine and Quinn at our usual table already having dinner. When I take a seat, Quinn takes a look at me and laughs, “Looks like Bertrand’s putting you through the wringer. He only does that to people he likes.”

 

Grunting, I mumble out, “If this is him liking me, I don’t want to know what it’s like if he hates me.”

 

Chuckling, Quinn takes in a mouthful of ale before saying, “Be sure you take in everything he’s teaching you. Might not look like it or even act like it but he’s one of the best damn swordsmen in this city. I can count the number of people who can best him in single combat on one hand and most of them are knights inside the city lord’s mansion.” 

 

“Alright, I’ll take your advice. Wait, could you clear it up for me then? Bertrand didn’t really tell me anything before we started practicing with our swords. Wraine and I are in some sort of trial period right now before someone named Derriv decides whether we can join or not?”

 

“That’s about right. Derriv keeps his outfit nice and small. Only looks at people who are competent and seasoned and then from those he’ll only recruit the ones he likes and fits in with the rest of his crew. He’s only taking a look at the two of you as a favor for me. He just left the city last night with the rest of his outfit for a mission out of the city and he’ll be back at the start of August. That means you have the rest of June and all of July to prove yourselves worthy of joining up with Derriv while Bertrand and I will be the ones who judge that as we’re training the two of you.” 

 

“Okay. Where does Derriv fit in with the city’s gangs? I’ve heard there are three major factions in the city but I only know about Alira.” 

 

“Derriv’s outfit is independent of the big three. But at the same time we’re unique because even though we’re independent, we’re able to hold some territory in the entertainment district without being crushed by Alira. We have some affiliation with Alira but at the same time we’re incredibly hostile with them as well. A complicated relationship to say the least. If you really want to know more, wait until Derriv gets back and ask when you speak with him. But don’t, and I mean don’t, bring Alira up when you’re with Bertrand or you’ll find out what it’s like to be trained by him when he doesn’t like you, understand?”

 

“Yeah, I got it.” Taking a look at Wraine who’s tearing into a leg of mutton while sipping a mug of ale, I ask, “What have you been up to today?” 

 

He swallows what’s in his mouth and washes it down with a mouthful of ale before responding, “Quinn took me up to the northern forests and taught me about the local flora and fauna. He also taught me how to make traps with things that could be found naturally up there. After we had lunch, we spent a few hours practicing with our swords.” 

 

“... Why does it sound like you had a way easier time than me?”

 

With our newfound wealth, it looks like Wraine isn’t planning to save on his meals and I’m of the same mindset. After a whole day of practicing with a sword, I’m utterly starving right now. I ordered a leg of mutton for 12 copper and a mug of mead for 5 copper. When I’m finished, we head into the sleeping quarters and we each pick out a bed for ourselves. Although we’re more wasteful with our coins regarding food now, 1 silver a night for a room with two beds is still a high cost compared to two beds in the dormitory for 24 copper a night. Right before I fell asleep, I only hoped I could wake up before Bertrand got here. 

 

 

This one doesn’t seem new. But it does seem different. I’m back in the dungeon again like I dreamt of last time except I’m not the blond bandit. Instead, I’m terrified of the blond bandit and every time he looks over at me, I flinch at his gaze. We were careless during today’s exploration. Oscar didn’t look like he was in a good condition today and I wanted to call off the exploration for today and start tomorrow bright and early but he wouldn’t have it. Like I expected, Oscar got hurt when he wasn’t focused and we’re in a bad spot. He wants to leave Oscar but I can’t. Today it might be Oscar but tomorrow it might be me. I have to stay alive for my mother. I can’t die. But when we tried leaving the dungeon, he took a crossbow bolt through the eye and my heart sank. I can’t believe it. Alira will kill us all and he’ll even hurt our families to torture us more for letting this happen. I have to do something. I have to catch whoever shot that crossbow and use them to divert Alira’s rage and maybe soothe his anger towards me. My mother can’t get involved in this. But I couldn’t do it. I didn’t expect two of them here. When the crossbow bolt sunk into my chest, I couldn’t help but lament my entire life. All I wanted was to be together with my mother and live a normal, honest life. As I lay on my back, darkness slowly covering my vision and flames slowly consuming my body, my last thought before dying was that I couldn’t send my mother the last letter I wrote for her. 

 

 

I’m woken up by a splash of cold water in my face. “I told ya to wake up before I got here or else this would happen.” Groaning, I sit up and wipe the water from my face, unsure if it’s only the water he splashed me with or my tears as well. 

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