“Hey! Wake up!”

Gideon grudgingly opened his eyes. Morning sunlight shone into the room through the blinds, illuminating Surelin as she stood over him. Her hand was on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes, grumbling. “...What you want?”

“You woke me up! You were shouting.”

“Who was shouting?” He asked drowsily.

“You were! You said something about dancing.”

He sat up and leaned back against the couch, rubbing his face with a heavy sigh.

She studied him quizzically. “I think it’s very strange for someone like you to dream about something like that.”

He dropped his hands into his lap. “Did I say dancing, or dance?”

“Um, it may have been dance.”

“Dance was my father’s name.”

She looked surprised. “I see… that’s an unusual name. You were dreaming of him?”

He looked away from her and scanned the room, eventually focusing on the windows. “We need to get going.”

Surelin’s gaze lingered on him for a few more seconds before she turned to her ruck and fiddled with it awkwardly.

Gideon scooted across the couch towards his own ruck and opened it. He began to transfer the sacks of denars into it, dreading its future weight on his back.

“Hey, would you mind carrying one of these sacks?”

She froze up for a second and turned around, leveling an annoyed stare on him.

He sounded sheepish. “I’m asking nicely.”

Her look softened a little. “...I suppose I could. Because you asked nicely.”

He lifted a sack off the ground and held it up to her. She took it, and carefully packed it into her ruck.

“Do I have enough time to change?”

“Mhmm. I need to put all my shit on, anyway.”

She scoffed. “Honestly. You’re so vulgar. Is it really so hard to say something without cursing?”

“Shit, what’s wrong with cursing? It’s fun. Same way ass-licking is fun. You should fucking try it sometime.”

He chuckled as she stormed off to the bathroom with a change of clothing in her hands.

I’m gonna get her to curse at some point.

Gideon got off the couch and stretched loudly before bending down for his armor, throwing it all on quickly. With that done, he strapped his claymore’s sheath to his chest.

Surelin stepped out of the bathroom in her new outfit: a tan blouse and brown shorts, with her hair tied back in a ponytail. She watched as Gideon bent down to pick up his ruck. “Aren’t we going to eat breakfast first?”

He grunted as he stood up straight. It was like standing up with someone hanging onto his shoulders. “The caravan will have food for us. Probably.”

“Well, that isn’t very reassuring.”

He shrugged —a difficult gesture to pull off while wearing the ruck. “We’ll figure it out. Hurry up, we’re wasting precious time.”

She walked over to her ruck and bent down to pick it up, but discovered she could barely lift it.

Gideon lifted it off the ground and held it up for her. “I’ll help you out, noodles.”

She shot him a perplexed look as she turned around and slipped her shoulders under the straps. “Noodles? What does that mean?”

“Yeah, noodle arms and noodle legs. ‘Cause you’re so scrawny.”

Her reply was almost instant. “Well you have a noodle brain!”

It surprised him, and he laughed loudly. She turned around to face him with a smirk.

He was still grinning when his laughter ended. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.”

The city was still asleep as Gideon and Surelin exited the inn’s lobby. They stepped out into the plaza, which was totally empty and still; quiet except for the sound of water spewing from Kaan’s mouth. Their footsteps on the marble tile were obnoxiously loud as they crossed the plaza in the direction of the forum. For some inexplicable reason it made Gideon feel embarrassed.

There wasn’t much activity in the rich sector of the forum during the early hours of the morning. When they did see people in the street, it was usually uniformed workers or laborers unloading goods from horse-drawn carts, preparing their shops or restaurants for the work day. None of them so much as glanced at the pair as they walked by, for which Gideon felt grateful.

They entered the lower class sector of the forum, where a series of identical scenes were playing out. Surelin gave Gideon a hopeful look as they passed the soup restaurant from the night before, but Gideon simply shook his head at her. She seemed somewhat crestfallen, but didn’t voice any disappointment.

The walk through the rest of the forum was short, and fairly pleasant. With no people clogging up the street and getting in their way, they reached the forum’s east side entrance in less than ten minutes.

The street narrowed outside of the forum, and led through a middle-class residential area. Multi-story homes crowded the narrow street as it gradually turned in a north-eastern direction through the city. There was much more ambient noise in this area: dogs barking in the distance, muted sounds of people chatting indoors, pots and pans clattering, and occasionally the sound of a rooster crowing.

The smell of breakfast being cooked wafted over them constantly as they walked along the street. Gideon’s stomach rumbled.

Surelin looked over at him. “Where exactly are we going?”

“The north gate,” he said. “This side street should spit out onto the thoroughfare soon. Once we’re on it, we’ll reach the gate in no time.”

“Okay. Oh, it smells so good! I want to stop at one of these homes and ask if they’d let me in for breakfast.”

Gideon snorted. “Well, you could try, but I don’t think-”

He stopped dead in his tracks. Surelin walked a few more steps before she stopped as well. “What is it?”

Up ahead of them, two hundred feet away, three armed men were walking down the street towards them. They walked line abreast, and were spaced out wide enough to swing their weapons freely.

Gideon recognized the stocky round-headed man in the middle, and growled with rapidly growing anger as they approached.

“Romus.”

Surelin was deeply alarmed, and she looked back and forth between his face and the men several times. “What? What’s wrong? Tell me! Are they hostile?”

There’s only one reason for him to show up like this.

Gideon could barely keep his anger under control as he dropped his ruck to the street behind him. Surelin stared at him fearfully as she trotted over to stand closer to him.

The three of them came to a stop when they were fifteen feet away. Gideon now recognized the two men accompanying Romus. They’d fought in the arena yesterday, and ran away along with everyone else. The two men were Levidians like Romus, with pale skin, red hair and thick, curly beards, but both were several inches taller than him. They seemed young, perhaps not even out of their teens, yet. Their stringy arm and leg muscles made them look almost slender in comparison to Romus and his bulky physique. Both wore chainmail hauberks over their cloth shirts and leggings. The one on Gideon’s left had a sheathed saber hanging from his belt, and the one on the right had a sheathed broadsword, with a round buckler in his left hand.

Romus hadn’t changed his clothing since Gideon last saw him at the arena. His armor was virtually identical to the armor Gideon was wearing. The breastplate and shoulder pads were both leather, and his metal round shield was strapped to his back. A broadsword was sheathed on his left hip. He had a cocksure grin on his face as Gideon’s eyes darted angrily between the three men.

Romus nodded amiably. “Mornin’ Giddy! How y’all doin’?”

Gideon shook his head. “You dumb motherfucker.”

Romus laughed. “Aw, c’mon now! That ain’t no way to treat an old acquaintance. ‘Specially when you just happen upon ‘em!”

“Explain your plan to me, dumb fuck, because it’s not making much sense from where I’m standing.” He gestured at the houses around them. “You thought the best way to do this was to attack us in the street during breakfast? In front of all these houses full of witnesses?”

The smile faded from Romus’s face. “Yer a real surly bastard, know that? It’s why you ain’t got no friends.” He lifted his hands and shrugged casually. “Well there I was, jus’ walkin’ along the street with my new partners, headin’ fer the forum, when we come across this big angry fella, stumblin’ around'n swingin’ a sword! He come at us, 'n there weren’t nothin’ we could do ‘cept defend ourselves. A real shame.”

He narrowed his eyes. “They’ll believe it, Giddy, ‘cause we got protection. A wealthy fella’s lookin’ out fer us.”

Gideon seethed with anger. “Gonna be pretty hard to tell any lies if you’re fucking dead.”

Romus looked serious now. “C’mon. Jus’ hand over the money'n the girl. No one’s gotta die here, boy! Walk away! Why die over this?”

“Get fucked!”

Surelin tugged at Gideon's arm. “Let’s just run, Gideon! Please!”

He replied while staring at Romus. “Go ahead. Run.”

She searched the side of his face, and Gideon turned to address her. “I’m serious. Run! If they kill me they’re going to come for you.”

Surelin looked terribly desperate and afraid. After a few seconds of hesitation she dropped her hand from his arm and ran as fast as she could, back towards the forum.

Gideon looked between Romus’s companions as he unstrapped his claymore’s sheath from his chest. “You two. I’m about to kill that motherfucker.” He nodded towards Romus. “If you get in my way, I’ll kill you first.”

The one with the buckler laughed. “Fuck no I ain’t! Yer ass is the biggest payday I’ve ever had!”

The saber Levidian grinned. “The girl was fine after all! Told ya. Think they’ll mind if we fuck her once or twice ‘fore we hand ‘er over?”

“You finish the job first, son.” Romus said sharply. “Then we talk about the spoils.”

Gideon unsheathed his claymore, and tossed the sheath off to the side. He was too angry to be afraid, and he glared at Romus as he entered the Window guard.

Romus gave him a tight smile, and crossed his arms. He backed up as his companions drew their weapons.

Gideon leapt out of his stance and sprinted toward the Levidian on the left. When he was in range he swung his claymore from the right, roaring at the top of his lungs. The Levidian lifted his saber to block the swing, and his partner jabbed at Gideon with his broadsword. Gideon jumped backwards out of the way just in time, swinging from the left to cover his retreat.

He roared again as he parried a follow-up thrust from the saber Levidian, and began to make reckless swings in their general direction. The swings were completely unaimed, but they were relentless. He swung tirelessly, again and again at random angles in their general direction.

The Levidians backed up, giving up ground as Gideon slowly approached them. Any attempt at moving forward to attack him now would be very risky. The claymore could strike them long before they could get into range with their own weapons, and Gideon’s swings were so wild and unpredictable that taking a single step forward would be putting themselves in immediate danger.

Gideon pushed forward harder, almost at walking speed. He was rapidly draining his stamina in order to hold the initiative, and if they figured out they could just attack at the same time the whole gambit would fail.

But the Levidians were inexperienced. They gradually drifted closer to each other as they retreated, and in the meantime neglected their footing.

When the Levidians were close enough to shake hands, Gideon lunged. The saber Levidian tried to leap out of the way, and the back of his left heel landed squarely on his companion’s boot.

For one brief instant, they both stumbled. It was the moment Gideon had been waiting for, the mistake he’d been herding them into.

He swiftly raised his claymore above his head and chopped at the saber Levidian’s right shoulder. It cut easily through the chainmail, and sank deep into the cloth, flesh, and bone underneath.

The saber Levidian gasped with shock as he fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder. Dark red blood shot out of the wound, splattering onto the street as he thrashed about and screamed in tremendous agony.

The other Levidian regained his footing and swung down at Gideon. He managed to parry it, and took several steps backwards.

Sweat was pouring down Gideon’s face, and he was panting heavily. The remaining Levidian seemed to finally realize he had bitten off more than he could chew, and he raised his buckler in front of him defensively as he backed away.

Gideon entered the Window guard again and approached him carefully. He stood just out of range of the Levidian’s broadsword and fired thrusts at the buckler. The claymore’s tip bounced off the buckler again and again, and occasionally slid against the buckler’s rim when the Levidian failed to fully block in time.

The Levidian frantically angled and reangled his buckler to protect himself from Gideon’s persistent assault. He was completely on the defensive as Gideon exercised total control over the fight’s tempo. Finally, the Levidian failed to block in time, and the edge of Gideon’s claymore cut his left forearm open. The Levidian shouted with alarm and swung with desperation at Gideon –a slow, poorly aimed attack, far out of range, that left him wide open.

Gideon swung as hard as he could at the opening. The claymore’s edge sliced through the chainmail protecting the Levidian’s upper right bicep, tearing it open and exposing the milky white bone to the free air.

The Levidian let out a blood curdling scream as his broadsword slipped out of his hand. He looked down at his destroyed arm and began to wail loudly. Gideon stood back and watched as the Levidian turned and hobbled away past Romus, moaning and crying in pain as his arm hung limply, blood dripping rapidly off his fingers.

The other Levidian was still screaming in agony as he laid on the street. Gideon began to walk towards Romus, his claymore held low.

His expression was murderous, his voice full of enmity. “Decided not to help them?”

Romus gave him a nonchalant grin and uncrossed his arms. He reached behind his back for his shield, and drew his sword. “‘Course! Promised, didn’t I? That we’d settle it man to man.”

“Sure, but only after you let them fight me.”

“Aw, lighten up, Giddy! It’d be a cryin’ shame if you felt all bitter’n heartbroken ‘fore you die.”

They began to circle each other. Romus rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck before raising his shield.

There had been no bad swordsmen in the Singing Blades. They had sparred with one another constantly; on campaign, between contracts, whenever possible, honing their skills against each other in mostly amiable matches. Gideon had never sparred with Romus before, but he had sparred with other shield bearers. They were tough, adaptable opponents, but also predictable. The shield was the backbone of their entire fighting style, and there were ways to exploit it.

Gideon abruptly launched himself at Romus, swinging hard from the left towards Romus’s shins. Romus easily blocked the swing with his shield, but then Gideon whipped the claymore behind his head and swung from the right.

Romus blocked the second swing handily, and swiped at Gideon with his sword. Gideon leapt backwards with an angry grimace as Romus chuckled darkly.

“Gotta do better’n that, boy...”

Gideon glared at him as they resumed circling. There were two ways to break a stubborn clam out of its shell: pound through the shell, or wait patiently for it to open.

He lowered the claymore’s tip to the ground. Romus laughed as he recognized the stance. “Fool’s guard! Good guard for a fool.”

Gideon stopped circling and approached Romus cautiously. He kept the claymore’s tip down and led with his left foot as he shuffled towards him.

Romus stopped moving, and hunched behind his shield as Gideon closed in. He entered the claymore’s attack range and continued, inching towards Romus while watching him for the slightest movement.

Romus’s blue eyes gleamed as Gideon entered the range of his broadsword. The claymore’s tip hovered above the ground, inches away from the shield. There was barely three feet of space between them. Romus might be able to attack before Gideon could react in time, but risking it was the only way to draw him out.

Gideon took a step to his right, trying to force Romus to move, when Romus’s leg suddenly shot out from underneath the shield, hitting Gideon square in the stomach. His breath left him as he stumbled backwards, and he saw Romus’s sword shining in the sky above him.

He felt an intense, searing pain that lanced across his left shoulder and collarbone. Gideon yelped with surprise and swung awkwardly at Romus’s outstretched arm, missing it by more than a foot.

Gideon ended his retreat far out of range of Romus's broadsword and looked down at himself while gasping for breath. There was a cut running straight through his left shoulder pad down to his breastplate, ending just below the collar. Bright red blood gushed from the wound, soaking his clothing. But it wasn't fatal, and the pain felt distant, somehow. His arm still seemed to be functioning.

Romus was jovial. “Gonna carve you into ity bity pieces!”

Gideon growled and strode towards him. When he was in range, he leveled a full power swing at Romus’s shield. It sounded as though someone was beating out a discordant rhythm on a metal sheet as Gideon began to swing at the shield over and over.

Romus’s broadsword flashed towards him, and Gideon dodged out of the way. “Quit it, stupid!” Romus growled.

Gideon stubbornly resumed the attack, beating his claymore against the shield to force Romus to respond. He saw Romus’s feet shifting, and realized his chance had come.

Just as Gideon moved to swing his claymore once again, Romus began a swing of his own. Gideon feinted right, and then swung left with all the strength he had left.

The claymore’s tip connected with Romus’s exposed right arm, slicing it horizontally along his elbow. The thrusting broadsword missed Gideon’s chin by inches.

As Romus began to scream, Gideon followed up with another swing. He sliced Romus's throat open, and blood sprayed the inside of his shield.

Romus coughed wetly and gurgled as he fell to the street, feeling at the gigantic cut in this throat with panicky fingers. Blood poured from it and pooled rapidly on the street. Gideon panted heavily as he stared down at him, catching his breath as he watched Romus’s death struggle begin.

He walked over and kicked away Romus’s broadsword. Then he crouched down next to him, and flicked Romus's nose with his middle finger.

“Guess that's us settled.”

Pure hatred came over Romus’s face as he stared up at Gideon. He gurgled and spat out blood, then looked up into the sky. Gideon watched his face closely as the last seconds of his life played out.

When it was finally over, Gideon looked up and took stock of his surroundings. There were people standing in the windows of every nearby house, watching him. Some looked astonished as they stared, others were more indifferent. All were alert. The saber Levidian laid still and quiet on the street.

He heard someone walking up behind him, and stood up. It was Surelin.

“I thought you ran away,” he said flatly.

There was a complicated expression on her face as she came to a stop a few feet away from him, a mix of shock and horror.

“You just sat there and… watched him die.”

“So?”

She visibly flinched at his reply. “Why didn’t you have mercy on him?! You didn’t have to let him suffer!”

He looked down at Romus’s corpse with a deep frown. “What, these fucking bandits? Fuck ‘em. They were gonna kidnap you.”

She shook her head violently. “But you didn’t have to let him suffer! You could have ended it and been done with it, but instead you just sat there and watched! What is wrong with you?!”

Gideon walked over to where his sheath was laying on the street and picked it up. He slid his claymore into it, and turned around to face Surelin as he strapped it to his chest.

His voice was icy. “It’s three times now I’ve saved your ass in the last day. You really want to stand there and judge me? Learn how to fend for yourself first.”

She said nothing, but looked hurt as he walked over to where his ruck was laying in the street. He picked it up and put it back on, and let out a pained hiss when the strap put weight on his wounded shoulder.

“It’s time to go. The people in these houses will bring the police soon, if they aren’t doing it already.”