Of Blood And Fire by Ryan Cahill (best color ebook reader txt) 📗

day. His eyes followed the path of the noise. Past the serving girl whose acrobatic talents had suddenly abandoned her as she tripped over the outstretched leg of a patron, who had long since fallen asleep, sending her tray of drinks soaring through the air. Past the group of men playing dice at the large table in the middle of the room and the one man who had just pulled a hidden set of dice from up his sleeve, his hand a blur of motion. Calen’s eyes moved past these things, and settled on a small knife in the corner of the room, which was tapping off the rim of a steel tankard.

As his eyes moved upwards, his heart almost stopped. The man holding the knife was staring straight at him, watching him the entire time. Calen looked away, snapping his vision back towards the target in front of him, hoping that the man had not caught him staring. He was one of the two men Erik was sitting with when Calen had walked in, but he was alone now. Watching. Calen glanced over towards Erik, who was chatting with the others and had not seemed to notice anything at all.

Calen took a deep breath. As the air filled his lungs, he felt the din bubbling over, giving way to a sense of calm. He gripped the axe firmly. The rough wooden handle, cool to the touch, was coarse against his skin. Going through the motions that Alleron had shown him earlier in the night, Calen launched his first axe at the target.

Thunk.

Three points.

Thunk.

Centre. Yes – five points.

Thunk.

Three points.

The group cheered as he landed his first two axes, but their applause was rather subdued as his last axe sank into its place. Not the worst round that he had thrown all night – eleven points out of fifteen was not a bad score, but it was certainly not a great one. He handed the axe over to Erik, who had been watching intently.

“Not bad at all. It’s going to be tough to beat that, I think.” Erik took the axe from Calen and placed it down on the table beside him. “I’ll just have to take this thing off before I throw. It’s only going to get in the way.” Erik undid the ties of his mantle, laying it down over a nearby chair. His leather cuirass did not extend over his shoulders or down his arms, leaving them bare, the heavy-set muscle belying his few summers.

He moved over towards the etched mark in the floor. Erik tossed the axe up in the air, letting it complete two or three full rotations before snatching it back. His eyes never left the target. Calen felt the suspense building in the group. The chatter amongst them subsided, bit by bit, until all attention was focused on the newcomer holding the axe.

Erik’s chest swelled as he took a deep breath inward. He pulled the axe up over his head and unleashed it with an almighty swing. With a vicious thump, it sank straight into the centre of the target. The group erupted in a cacophony of cheers.

“Beginner’s luck,” Erik said, shrugging at Calen. Calen could already feel his purse being four coppers lighter. Dann grinned from ear to ear. He leapt over to the axe, grabbing it with one hand to remove it from the target and return it to Erik for his second swing. Well, Dann has definitely wagered against me.

Absently, Dann turned back towards Erik, his hand still grasping the handle of the axe. A look of surprise coated his face when the axe did not budge, even in the slightest. He placed his free hand beside the other and heaved with all his weight. The axe came loose like water from a spring, sending Dann flying backwards onto the ground. Calen almost felt the impact himself when Dann’s backside cracked against the solid wooden floorboards. The entire group broke out in laughter, guffawing wildly at the dumbstruck look on Dann’s face. Dann pulled himself to his feet with an expression that only conveyed large amounts of displeasure and handed the axe back to Erik.

“Next time, you’re getting it yourself,” he said, rubbing his backside tenderly as he walked back to find solace in his mead.

Erik and Calen exchanged glances, both failing to hold back an eruption of laughter.

The group quietened down as Erik readied himself to take his second throw, although Calen could still hear Kettil and Leif mocking Dann in hushed voices.

The metallic ringing sound echoed through the air. The axe landed with a crack, again in the dead centre of the target. Drunken hysteria erupted, like when the first axe landed, and some coin changed hands. This time, though, Erik retrieved his own axe. Dann stared off at the ceiling, pretending to have noticed something in the wooden rafters. Calen was definitely not going to go the night undefeated at this new game.

As Erik took another deep breath in preparation for his final throw, Calen heard that tapping noise again – the knife knocking against the tankard. He noticed Erik’s head turn towards the table, but when he looked back over himself, the man was gone. Erik seemed tense, not as confident as he had been before. Without any ceremony, he launched the axe one last time, slicing through the suspense in the air.

Thud.

The flat of the axe connected with the wooden target, bouncing harmlessly onto the ground, leaving the group with stunned expressions. A few of them roared loudly, clapping their friends on the back – the ones who had bet on Calen. Alleron did the same to Dann as Dann dropped a few coppers into Alleron’s outstretched hand.

“Well, it looks like you win. Four coppers, was it?” Erik said, not impolitely but with far less enthusiasm and warmth than he had previously shown. His face was unreadable as he rummaged through a small purse that Calen had not noticed before. “It