From the shaded doorway of a small herbalist shop two men looked on with much interest as Navarr and Gaston rode towards Tulle-sur-Mer's northern gate. It was midday and the northern square inside the gate was active with people milling about. Several merchant carts laden with produce were passing through the narrow gate into the city, as well as other country folk coming into the town to do business. The two companions had moved their horses to the side and waited for the gate traffic to clear before passing through.
One of the observers was the innkeeper from the Blue Sparrow Inn. He was wearing a dark travel cloak with its hood pulled low hiding much of his face. He had glaring eyes that seethed with hate as he watched Navarr and Gaston intently. The night's events had not gone as usual. Scores of his wererat brothers had been killed, some of them slashed and pierced by rapiers, but many more by means he couldn't identify. He himself had been forced into hiding, and his precious inn was no longer a safe haven. His life as a quiet innkeeper, and his secret life as guild leader to a den a wererat thieves, had come quickly to an end.
And he blamed the two men he watched from afar.
"I want them followed," the innkeeper said to the other observer at his side. "I don't want them to be suspicious of you, so keep your distance and watch them and learn what you can. I want to learn as much as possible about the younger man in particular. I don't know who he is, but I suspect he's more than a guard or lackey in service to the Duke."
The other man nodded, "That could take time and many coins. The time I have available, the coins I do not." He was dressed in a worn leather doublet and carried a rapier. His features were dark and he had a narrow scar that ran along his left jaw line.
The innkeeper produced a bulging coin purse from beneath his cloak and handed it to the other man.
"See to it," the innkeeper said. "If you need more you know where to contact me."
Again the other man nodded and placed the coin purse inside his doublet.
Both observers watched as Navarr and Gaston eventually rode through the gate. Once they were out of site the innkeeper smiled darkly to the other man.
"I'll have my revenge."
About the author:
I've dabbled in writing various genres of fiction, mostly for my own amusement, for as long as I can remember. From the prompting of friends in 2012 to share some of my stories with a larger audience came my 2013 New Year's Resolution to get something published.
A Whisper in the Dark is the lead in for a full length novel that will feature the same cast of characters, and many more. The forthcoming book does not yet have a name, but I decided to include a small excerpt in the hopes that it will entice you to look for it in 2014 when published.
Please take a few moments to write a short review of A Whisper in the Dark from where you purchased it. Your critique is greatly appreciated, and as an indie-publisher it really does help.
My blog page:
www.tdbauer.com
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@realtdbauer
Forthcoming novel excerpt that continues the adventures of Navarr Doucette
(unedited draft)
Natalia's hurled herself into a left-handed back spring somersault, landed with perfect balance on her booted feet, with her rapier held firm in her right hand and pointed at her opponent. A smirk crossed her lips as her foe looked on with an expression of complete surprise.
The moment passed and soon Natalia's opponent advanced. Their blades met with the classic sound of steel on steel dancing back and forth in a game of speed and agility. As the two plied their blades against one another, a small group of spectators looked on with smiles and occasional applause, already knowing how the spectacle before them was going to end.
Natalia Kovich was well known to the spectators as an acrobat, swordswoman and former cat burglar. Her features were exquisite and pleasing, and those who looked upon her did not easily forget her exotic beauty. Natalia was a gypsy with the typical olive skin and shiny raven-black hair she wore in loose curls about her head and neck. She was in her late twenties, had high cheekbones, green eyes, full lips, and the lithe body of a dancer and the grace to match.
Natalia never dressed like a typical woman who wore dresses, but rather preferred the tight cut of breeches and doublet, and currently wore such an ensemble the color of black and burgundy. She was always seen with a rapier at her side that hung from a black baldric, while on her opposite hip she carried a coiled whip and main gauche. It was not a common site to see a woman attired so, but for women who didn’t seek a traditional life as wife, mother, or mistress, it was becoming the norm.
Her opponent was a man a several years her younger named Raul. Raul was a relative newcomer to Bayonne's secretive guild of thieves, and had fast earned himself a reputation as a capable swordsman among his fellow cohorts. He was quick to brag and make outlandish claims regarding his skill, as was typical of most self-righteous youth who felt they had something to prove to the world around them. As such, his closest friends and more experienced thieves wanted to put him in his place and teach him a valuable lesson at the same time. And so they had called on Natalia.
The friendly skirmish took place in the courtyard of the Hotel des Arnes, which was actually home to many of the guild's thieves. The courtyard was wide and open, covered with white flagstones, and decorated at the center with a small fountain surrounded by a low flat-topped wall.
Natalia had been letting Raul make one attack after another since their duel began a few minutes ago, parrying all his attacks but never riposting, allowing him to keep pressing forward while she would casually give ground. She kept herself purely on the defensive in order to determine the man's speed and skill with a blade. She came to the conclusion that he was very good, very good indeed, but that he was also brash and that he certainly thought himself young and invincible. He needed to be put in his place and allowed to reevaluate his skills with a rapier before he got himself into a situation where death was on the line.
Another minute of parrying continued before Natalia changed tactics and countered with a riposte, which immediately followed by a feint and attack that Raul barely managed to parry. She could see he was taken by surprise at how quickly she had turned the tables on him with very little effort. A look of determination crossed his face while she continued to test him with more ripostes and feints. It wasn't long before she noticed tiny beads of sweat appear on his brow just below his dark red hairline and knew he was going to start showing signs of tiring.
Natalia feinted towards the right and Raul was once again taken in by the sudden move, but instead of following up with an attack, Natalia cart-wheeled away to the left and towards the wall that lined the fountain. Raul recovered from the rouse and watched as Natalia did another cart-wheel before turning and jumping atop the fountain's low wall. She turned back around and regarded him once again with a smirk.
A few jeers and chortles erupted from some of the spectators.
"Your acrobatics do well to take you away from the danger that is the end of my blade, my lady," Raul commented with a hint of bravado as he approached the fountain, "but such tricks only postpone your inevitable end. They could never be used to your advantage to attack. Retreat, yes, but never attack."
"Oh, is that so?" Natalia replied with a hint of sarcasm. Her voice was dusky and she spoke with a slight accent typical among gypsies whose family ties originated from Valkavania far to the east.
"Do you speak from assumptions or what you know to be fact?" Natalia asked coyly.
"Fact, my lady," Raul smiled, enjoying the game of cat and mouse that they were playing, thinking of himself as the cat.
"But I have the high ground?" Natalia said as she gestured with her rapier to the low wall she stood upon. "Surely that serves me more than you?"
"Perhaps to an extent to give you a small advantage, but not enough to decisively ma
tter, and certainly not to include acrobatics in your advantage to attack. Such tricks belong in a traveling road show with jugglers and animal tamers, but not a heated sword fight where life and death is on the line."
Raul didn't give Natalia the chance to respond, for he was close enough to once again press an attack and did so with a slash at Natalia's feet. Natalia knew he meant to put her off balance by forcing her to jump over his flashing blade. Instead she met his attack by crouching down slightly to parry his slash with the wider and heavier part of her rapier, the forte, located several inches before the hilt. She sounds stopped his blade's cutting motion and then lifted her left foot and stepped down on his blade trapping it between her boot and the top of the fountain's wall.
A look of shock and fear crossed Raul's face as he tried to pull his weapon free, but Natalia wasn't done just yet. She sprang and flipped over the startled thief's head, rotating herself halfway through the maneuver so when her booted feet landed with resounding clicks on the flagstones, she was directly behind her opponent and facing him.
Raul turned with his weapon in hand, but Natalia was less than several inches away from him and met his blade with a downward beat from her own rapier. It was at the same time that Raul felt the hard jab of a blunt object pressing into his lower stomach.
Both combatants stood frozen in place looking into each other's eyes. The all too familiar smirk was no longer present on Natalia's face, instead it was replaced with one of cold determination and a deadly stare. Raul's expression was one of abject surprise.
Slowly his eyes lowered towards his stomach and the sight of Natalia's main gauche held reversed in her left hand, the pommel pressing firmly into him where normally, in a fight to the death, the piercing blade would have been. He had never seen her draw the parrying dagger forth, and surmised she must have done so while she had somersaulted over him.
"It's a good thing death was not on the line," Natalia whispered.
Applause and cheers rose up from the spectators and a few of them crowded forward to congratulate Natalia while others began to tease Raul over his defeat. In the distance the bells of St. Martin Cathedral began to ring signaling the hour of midday.
Natalia stepped back from Raul and sheathed her weapons with fluid motion before bowing graciously to the group of thieves before her. "I thank you, messieurs, for this opportunity to instruct young Raul. But the bells toll and I must be away for an appointment. Do be so kind as to finish the lesson for me."
Then without further adieu Natalia turned and trotted off, leaving the gathered group of thieves standing and looking in her direction with a hint of admiration and desire.
Once Natalia was out of sight, Raul was the first to speak. He cleared his throat. "What is this lesson the lady spoke of?"
Brinson, a man fifteen years Raul's senior and a high ranking member of the guild slapped him hard on the back. "You're very good with your blade but new to the city, this guild, and still wet behind the ears. I've told you before that you're too headstrong and going to get yourself into a situation that may leave you bleeding and alone in some dark alley one of these nights."
"So you have," Raul commented, thinking back to the events of the practice match.
"This lesson was arranged for you to learn that no matter how good you may be, there is always somebody better."
Raul's gaze looked in the direction where Natalia had gone. There was a hint of longing in his eyes. "She's as beautiful as she is skilled. I can't imagine there could be any better than her."
More than a few chuckles erupted from the group of thieves at Raul's comment.
"I know of at least one," Brinson said knowingly.
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