Portents

Portents

Talen looked over the ridge in the direction of the other ship, from here it looked pristine, although he could some kind of drydock about it. Below, near the foot of the ridge, he had just seen a small child scurry into the vegetation below.

On the other side of the ridge, he could hear the groaning and complaining of the topman, Quinn, as he scaled it. It had occurred to Talen to call out to him before, but for a reason he couldn't completely explain, he did not.

Some part of it had been the dream.

The dream.

Talen wished it would go the way of most dreams and fade and be forgotten. But it did not.

And the details of it were nearly unbearable to endure again, but were so thought provoking that he could not shut them out completely.

He had had the dream just after he had reached the this bluff, when his mind was drugged and desperate, and his body exhausted from his unexplainable flight. His body had fallen asleep, but his mind was boiling over with thought...

Flames.
Talen saw flames, and for a frightening moment, he realized he was standing in them. And then the moment passed, and an unassuring calm swept the fright away.
He actually seemed rather put out that he wasn't burning.
There was no heat, either.
Talen looked about the pyre, unimpressed.
Did I die, he wondered, is this hell?
Then he heard a cry.
"TALEN!"

"Talen! Where are you?"

"That's a damn good question, Enrique, where am I?" Talen quipped, but then jerked around to the sound of the voice. There was Enrique, but the perspective was skewed, and he didn't look quite right. He was too close. And too old. Only a few years older, but hard years.

"TALEN!" Enrique yelled again, he opened a door in the hallway he was in cautiously. It seemed to be some kind of warehouse, abandoned apparently. Except for a single shadowed figure that came up from behind the Castillian.

"That's me," Talen commented before the figure could be seen in the light.

And it was. A hood came from off of the figure revealing an older Talen with a familiar mischievous smile played on his face, tapping Enrique on the shoulder.

"You rang, sir?"

Enrique jumped.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Keeps you sharp, old man..."

Talen gawked. He knew that was him, but he was so...so....so different than the boy that had looked back in a mirror a short time ago in Avalon. His back was so straight and true, and he was tall, as tall as the Enrique that he was now seeing...
And extremely agile, catlike in his movements, quiet and purposeful. The hair had been cut short, unlike the unkept greasy black locks that he had now. The short hair seemed to lighten the complexion, and drew out his dark blue eyes. All in all, he reflected that he had become rather handsome.
Something puzzled him. This Talen didn't look a thing like his father, not a thing, there was not a single feature that had matured, that could be drawn to the Calyanni line. He saw hints of his mother's line in the face, but...
How could this be him? There almost seemed to be another element, something else....
Something else....
Andre.
That's it, he thought, he looked a lot like his father's friend. His tutor.
But why would he?

"My blade's plenty sharp enough, Talen, I'll have you know..."

The elder Talen rolled his eyes, "So what do you want?"

"So what do I want? What?"

"You were just calling me. What do you want?"

"Oh. That. Yes, I just wanted to know where you were," Enrique nodded to himself and looked apprehensively down the passage.

"That's all?"

"That's all. And..."

"And???"

"And to let you know that he's here."

"Who's here?" The elder Talen asked.

"Him."

"I see." Although it was plain that that Talen did not see. "You do realize that we are standing in a burning building..." He gestured around himself. "And as much as I would like to play riddles with you, maybe even take in a game of cards, that darn practical side of me says that we should vacate the general area..."

"He's not going to let us..." Enrique persisted. He drew his blade.

The building was burning? Talen's eye kept being drawn to the small details of his senior. The fencing blade at his side. The well made, tastefully selected clothing, the Explorer's band on his finger, a long scar across the opposite hand, a finely holstered musket strapped to his left boot....
The amber light that the scene in front of him was cast in, he had thought the result of the unending flame that he himself was in.

"You know, Enrique, there are other things to do in Montaigne, other than being shot at, setting fire to the local whorehouse, and the general ruckus we find ourselves in..." The Explorer drew the fencing blade.

Enrique stopped. "Did you just say 'ruckus?'"

Talen ignored him, "Maybe a play, a little song and dance number, some nice dining perhaps..."

They continued to stalk the hallway for a few minutes in silence.

The Explorer paused. He looked to the slatted wall to his left.

Without preamble, the elder Talen sank his blade into it. There was a mysterious sound on the other side of the wall.

"Whoever 'him' is, I think I got him."

Enrique slowly turned on his heel.

The Explorer pointed to the wall proudly, "Can we go now?"

"Talen, step away from the wall..."

Talen looked unsure for a moment, "Why? I got him..."

"For once in your life, just do--"

Enrique never got to finish the sentence, the wall burst open and Talen was flung into opposite one, bladeless.

An ominous voice sounded down the hall. "He was never much for directions, was he, Enrique?"

A dark figure emerged from the hole that had just appeared in the wall. "Although, he's still sharper than you or your blade..."

The Explorer shook his head and began to stagger to his feet.

"Oh, sweet Theus, it can't be..." Talen muttered to himself.
It was.

"Reynaldo? It was Reynaldo?" the other Talen asked.

The older Vodacce looked down at him, "My, my, how you've grown, young man..." Reynaldo picked him up by the cuff and looked him straight in the face, "Unfortunately, now its time for the adults to talk," He faced Talen's body toward the other wall.

"But I brought some friends for you to play with..." With that, he heaved the Explorer through the wall. It splintered cheaply.

Any other man would have been dead. Reynaldo wasn't any other man. As far as Enrique knew, he wasn't the man he used to be at all.

"Nice, " Reynaldo admired, "You've been staying in practice, I see. And here I was thinking that you spent all your time on women and drink."

Talen's blade was still stuck in his shoulder, "Excuse me, a moment, I think he'll need this." He pulled the blade free and carelessly threw it through the hole that he had just flung Talen through.

"Now, where were we?"

Enrique stabbed him again.

"Oh, that's right," Reynaldo grabbed Enrique's sword hand before he could withdraw, pulled him forward and back handed him to the floor. He drew his own blade and pulled the Castillian's free from his mid-thigh. He tossed the blade over to him.

"Starting stance, Enrique, let's be fair..."

Reynaldo smiled something entirely evil.

Did Reynaldo kill him or me, Talen wondered to himself. He got his answer when the perspective shifted abruptly from Enrique and Reynaldo to the scene below. Where the Explorer Talen was gingerly getting up from the broken crates an entire floor underneath.

The fire was more intense there. The wall that Reynaldo had thrown him through had been the last on that level of the building. The Explorer had fallen down to the ground floor. The clattering of his sword nearby brought him to his senses. That and a booted foot scarce inches from his head.

"An Explorer, eh, don't look so tough to me, now."

Henchmen, half a dozen or so, most of them with unsavory blunt weapons.

"Oh, well, dead the boss wants, dead the boss gets."

Talen rolled over his blade and to his feet with it in his hand.

"He's got some spirit in 'im still, this outta be fun, boys..."

It could be seen that there was more than a half dozen of them now.

The elder Talen sighed.

He attacked the first with a quick slash to the midsection, and stole the man's belt, dropping the man's britches to his ankles, revealing colorful underpants. The man gasped. Others jeered.

Talen whipped the belt around, catching one in the temple, before it came down and ensnared another's foot. He let out a startled shriek when Talen pulled him from his feet. Parrying a blow from behind, he jerked the belt free, catching another unfortunate in the jaw. The Explorer stabbed the man behind him in the shoulder, and swayed out of the reach of another who would have wrought his cudgel upon his head. The belt came around again, disarming one and then wrapping around another's neck. He pulled the man forward into the charge of yet another. The blade sliced a nasty cut into one's face and scored a hit on another's knee. Ten men, in various stages of pain, unconsciousness, confusion, entanglement, and undress. Talen pulled the belt free from the last.

The wounded and remaining men circled the Explorer warily...

Talen's curiousity wandered. He was awed by the other's skill, no doubt, but he wondered about Reynaldo and Enrique on the top floor.
The perspective changed accordingly.

"You've gotten slow, Montoya, I expected more."

Enrique coughed up some blood. His sword hung in his hand.

There were several neat holes in Reynaldo's shirt, some with a little blood-staining. Enrique's chest had only half as many, but most of them were bleeding profusely.

The Vodacce swaggered over to where his opponent nearly lay. Enrique parried, and Reynaldo left himself open for an extended amount of time. Instead of another stab to the chest, Enrique slashed the tip of his blade across the back of the Vodacce's knees.

Reynaldo staggered. Responding to yet another opening, this one genuine, Enrique kicked him down. And prepared to slash again at his one time friend. With incredible speed, Reynaldo blindingly caught Enrique's sword and then his hand, and then threw him over his shoulder.

"Promising. But still too slow. What the years have done to you.." Reynaldo taunted. "Maybe our young friend may prove more entertaining..."

Enrique slashed him across the face. Reynaldo bled.

"Nice smile, Reynaldo."

They began to circle one another "I might just kill you this time, Enrique..."

"Promises, promises..."

"You could be saving yourself this trouble, you know..."

The flames crackled. A rumble not far away denoted the fire's progress.

"Nice try. It probably sounded better from Fellhand, though." "What's a little power between friends? I could make you strong, Enrique, stronger than you were even in your youth."

"No, thanks."

Reynaldo nodded, "Then you're just going to have to go," he lifted his hands apologetically, "Obviously, you can't be reasoned with. I just can't make the same mistake my predecessor made." He gestured grandiosely with his sword, "I have plans, Enrique, big plans. And if you're not going to join me, I can't have you interfering..."

"Even if you were to strike me down, DeRicci, the Knights will come for you, with or without my death. You made a mistake there."

"Mistakes can be corrected, I've got the time. You, do not, however." And Reynaldo attacked.

Enrique's skill was formidable, and even considering the fatigue, his defense was just as formidable. But Reynaldo was only scarcely wounded, cared nothing of pain, and skill just as good as the Castillian's.

What came as a surprise, more to Enrique than even to Reynaldo, was when Enrique disarmed him. And Reynaldo's sword flew to the back of the hall. Unfortunately, he was in arms length and Reynaldo knocked him down.

As Enrique began to regain his footing, Reynaldo calmly retrieved his sword at the end of the hall.

He paused, holding his sword contemplatively, and stared across the hall at his trembling, if defiant opponent, "I tire of this particular game, Enrique," He unholstered a gun. "It's not sporting, I know, but..."

Reynaldo shot him.

Enrique fell, dropping the sword from his hand.

Reynaldo walked and stood over him, holstering the gun, "I wasn't going to shoot you dead, though,"

The floor and the walls behind Reynaldo collapsed, he looked back, but was unconcerned.

"Burn in hell, Reynaldo..." Enrique stammered.

"You know, that's very good, but I think I did say that better to Fellhand... A little more hate, I think... But that was good. And, yes, I probably will. You, on the other hand," He brought his sword just to Enrique's eye, "Are just going to have to burn here.

He curtsied. "Goodbye, Enrique Montoya, it's been.... fun."

He drew back.

Talen held his breath.

The blade plunged.

And was expertly parried. But not by Enrique.

"Are the adults done, now?"

Reynaldo's sword was gone, and the Explorer kicked the surprised Reynaldo back, and leveled his own gun...

"'It's not sporting, I know...'"

And shot him in the head.

The force carried the Vodacce over the broken floor and down into the inferno below.

"But it'll do..."

Talen exhaled.

"The Knights are here, Enrique, but we need to hurry..." Talen threw Enrique's arm over his shoulder.

Enrique groaned. "What took you so long?"

"I was busy." Talen looked around. "And I had to choose my moment." The Explorer dragged him over to a window. Opened it.

"Choose your moment?" Enrique queried.

"Yes. My moment. See that cart down there?"

"Full of clothing, I hope."

"You first," Talen set him in the window.

"You know he's not dead yet, you know."

"Inconvenienced him, at best, I know." Talen took another nervous glance about the hall. "Am I going to have to throw you out?"

"I'm going." A pause. "And thanks, Talen," And Enrique jumped out of the window.

"About time I started to repay the favor, Enrique..."

And he jumped.

Portents (continued...)

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