The Wanderer - Part Four

PART ONE (click here)
PART TWO (click here)
PART THREE (click here)


PART FOUR
The sharp sound of steel colliding with steel shocked her back to the moment. She opened her tear soaked eyes to see the Bandit’s hideous blade held at bay by an old rusted sword. With a fully extended lunge the Wanderer remained frozen, the rusted sword digging into the wall of the shrine, holding back the Bandit’s attack.

“Sorry about the delay, Priestess,” apologized the Wanderer. “There was a hole in the bucket.”

Stepping back, the Bandit took an offensive stance. The Wanderer, never losing composure, extended his hand to the Priestess, who gladly accepted the help to her feet. The Wanderer then slid his sword into the ill-fitting sheath on his back, his hand never leaving the hilt.

“This doesn’t concern you, Wanderer,” hissed the Bandit. “Leave this place, now!”

“I would,” stated the Wanderer. “But she had planned on making dinner for two, and wasting food makes her most upset.”

With a battle cry only one who had truly been touched by darkness could make, the Bandit took two swipes at the Wanderer, each one deflected.

“After taking my crystals back I will burn this place to the ground,” threatened the Bandit. “Only now, your body will join the ashes of this shrine.”

A fevered barrage of attacks came down on the Wanderer; the Bandit drooled with delight as he backed the Wanderer through the door and toward the altar. The Wanderer felt something on his back; it was the broom handle and the Priestess standing guard over the crystals.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t allow anyone to damage these crystals”, She stated.

The crystals dimmed, cringing from his presence, the Wanderer saw this and nodded.

“How about we take this outside?” smiled the Wanderer as he went on the offensive.

The Wanderer advanced on the Bandit, driving him backward through the great door, through the shrine and back into the courtyard. There they stood, warrior to warrior.

“You know, I didn’t want to damage the crystals either.” The Bandit stated. “I stole them first, they’re mine.”

“You could never truly treasure them.” The Priestess shouted from the top of the steps. “They need to be loved and tended to, not used as a means of manipulation. You have no respect, no honor, what makes you think you could truly care for them?”

“Have you not learned your place, witch?” asked the Bandit, cocking his blade back to charge at her. “Perhaps I should remind you.”

Light glinted off the few places where rust did not cover the Wanderer’s blade.

“You won’t make it past the first step,” advised the Wanderer.

“And you.” The Bandit stated, turning his focus back to the Wanderer. “You must really want to die, what makes you think you have any say in what happens here?”

“Tough talk for a man who bullies a Priestess.” The Wanderer retorts, charging the Bandit.

The blades collide once again; this time the Wanderer could see that the Bandit really was holding back near the crystals. The strikes are at a much faster pace, some slice through his kimono, drawing thin lines of blood. The Wanderer’s blade also strikes true, but the black armor continues to deflect the attacks. Evenly matched, the Wanderer can see that eventually he will wear down first. A momentary lapse in the assaults gives the Wanderer a moment to catch his breath, in doing so he looked to the Priestess. In her eyes he sees everything in the world worth fighting for, his passion for her gives him strength to continue.

Again the blades collide, when the warriors lock blades a series of blows are exchanged, again, nothing penetrates the cruel armor of the Bandit. With his kimono nearly shredded the Wanderer pants, weary from combat. The Bandit’s armor also shows a great deal of wear, but he is in far better condition than the Wanderer. Again they attack one another, until the dark blade’s hilt smashes down onto the Wanderer, knocking him to the foot of the shrine steps. The Bandit quickly pursued the fallen Wanderer attempting to end the battle with a final blow. Much to his dismay, the Priestess took this opportunity to swing the broom handle with all her might. The sheer force of the swing snapped the thick wooden handle in half, splintering it into a sharp spear. Reeling from the Priestess’s fury, the Bandit staggered back to the courtyard clutching his head.

“There are buckles on the back of his armor,” she revealed. “I saw them while you were fighting, slice them off and the armor should fall.”

With a caress from on the cheek from her soft hand, the Wanderer regained his strength to continue the fight.

“Oh you little bitch,” yelled the Bandit. “I’m going to make you beg me to kill you when I’m done. You hear me!”
“Hey yak shit,” the Wanderer called, rising to his feet. “We’re not done yet. Let’s finish our little chat.”


PART FIVE


Exile

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