Chapter Forty-One—Jessamine’s Swords

With his sword held high, Shiro watched Darius as he moved. He moved his black shoed feet expertly. They both moved, their feet carrying them in an arching circle around the cleared space.

Darius moved like a predatory cat with such grace, that Shiro knew any master samurai would have trouble defeating him in a duel of blades.

This was now how Shiro had imagined this happening with the sultan. He had thought of it many times. In his mind, he usually killed Darius. Now…

He didn’t know if he had the skills to beat him.

Swallowing, his heart pounded in his chest like an incessant drumbeat, the blood in his ears thundering.

Be careful, Shiro.

There is nothing he can do that will change the outcome here, Jessamine, Darius conveyed. Now be silent! Or do you wish the result of this man’s death?

Amusement—from Darius—flooded the conveyance, a malicious hatred that swirled about like a sand dervish.

Darius spread his arms and glanced away from Shiro. “NOW WATCH ME!” he said, turning around to glance at the crowd of onlookers. “WATCH ME AS I KILL ONE OF OUR ENEMIES FROM ACROSS THE SEAS!”

The palace guests cheered like a mob at one of the fighting pit events, screaming for Shiro’s blood through gnashing teeth and drunken revelry.

This was his chance.

Shiro turned his word, the tapering point now thrust forward as he held the hilt over his shoulder. His upturned shoes pattered over the tiles and Shiro arched his blade, bringing the edge around for an underhanded slice.

The roar of the crowd increased and Darius turned, blocked his blade with a metallic chink and a hiss of sharp metal on metal.

The sultan laughed, then pushed his blade down and arced it around, forcing Shiro’s wrist into a spiral pattern just before his blade went flying across the tiles.

Shiro spread his arms, his eyes wide, ready to defend himself against this top-tier adventurer with a jinni’s added magic.

“Go get it,” Darius said.

Shiro backed away, bent and picked up his blade.

Pathetic, the sultan conveyed.

Darius! Jessamine conveyed back, a sense of anger and fear accompanying her emotions. If you kill Shiro, you will forever make an enemy of me!

Shiro glanced back toward the throne, where Jessamine was standing, her eyes wide and her fists clenched. Had it not been for her composure, he thought she would have been seething through her teeth.

Eyes landing back on the sultan, Shiro tightened the grip on his scimitar and swallowed hard as a bead of sweat rolled off his temple.

Is it so, whore?!

Shiro didn’t need to sense the emotions or words accompanying Darius’ conveyance. What was displayed on his face was evident.

Darius lunged forward, his blade arcing out to toward Shiro’s side. He blocked, parried and returned the gesture, but his blade was met with Darius’ scimitar like a wall of bricks.

When Darius moved, it was fast, lethal and well-coordinated—his footwork perfect. It was clear he was toying with Shiro as they moved about the tiled throne chamber, a spot of bright light underneath them cast from the glow stones above in the crystal chandelier that mimicked the shape of the large circular skylight.

Darius came in, struck. Shiro parried, moved, his own blade flashing like silver in the light. It was a show.

“You are fast, Shiro Takeda! You have the speed of a jinni’s magic. But you are not fast enough. I am Jessamine’s bond mate. Not you—imposter.”

“You are a traitor to her good will,” Shiro shot back. “And to the people of the Abassir Empire.”

Darius laughed. “And what do you know, foreigner?” Then lowering his tone, he hissed, “I cannot even say what barbarous land you truly come from.”

“Does it matter?” Shiro asked, his eyes boring into Darius’.

“Only strength matters,” he said. “I would know best. Do you think the war in the south will be won with good intentions, soft manners and an invitation for those conquerors to join us in peace?” And then he conveyed more words. Of course not!

“You are right,” Shiro said. “But that does not excuse you from acting with evil intentions.”

Darius sneered.

“I’ve had enough of this. I gave you a sword so you could die with a weapon in your hands—and that is all.”

“You gave me a sword to humiliate me in armed combat while you make a show for your subjects.”

Shiro glanced about at the throne chamber, at the press of wide eyes and curious demeanors as everyone, packed in and amongst the thick pillars, watched their duel. Some of them snarled and called out epithets at him. Others cheered on the sultan.

Darius mouth twitched into a subtle grin. “You are not stupid, Shiro. Now you die.”

Something was thrown near the edge of the cleared space. Shiro thought it food, an insult accompanying a verbal assault from one of the onlookers. But whoever had thrown it hadn’t tried very hard to hit Shiro.

These fools might anger their immortal god king if they cluttered his fighting space.

Watch carefully, Jessamine.

Straightening, but tightening his grip on his sword hilt, Shiro glanced passed Darius to Jessamine. It has been an honor, he conveyed, knowing he was about to be cut down.

Jessamine’s eyes widened. “No!” she hissed.

Then, conveying in a tumult of sorrow and fear that Shiro thought he almost felt as if they were his own feelings, the screamed wordlessly.

Shiro!

Dropping through the skylight in front of Darius and Shiro was not a wise move. Even if he managed to surprise the sultan, that was no guaranty that Debaku would defeat him.

Instead he moved away from the skylight to the edge of the dome, slid down and dropped between the statues that flanked either side of the thrones amidst the onlookers. Their attentions were so rapt, that none of them noticed he had dropped down beside them.

He then pattered across the tiles and down the steps leading to the dais.

“Who—“ Jessamine said, confused as she seemed to sense Debaku’s presence and turned.

Ignoring her, the Black Cobra of Mar’a Thul pressed past her and swung his scimitar, cutting the captain down, then whirled, doing the same to his three men guarding Ali, Razul and Shai’na.

They had been unprepared for his arrival, and by the time anyone had realized what was happening, Debaku unfurled the wrapped swords and they tumbled out of the fabric and nets clanging against one another onto the tile floor.

Shouts erupted, both from the crowds, but also from the other Scoprion Guards as Razul hissed, “Me first!” and dropped onto his stomach.

With a sudden grin, Debaku slammed his blade into Razul’s chain. Because the metal links were flat across the tiles, they broke. Before the rest of the guards realized what was happening, Razul took up his fish-fin blade and lunged toward them, cutting and slashing through them like a top-tier whirlwind worthy of his adventurer’s status.

Having seen Razul, Shai’na and Ali clamored to do the same. Debaku glanced about quickly to make sure he wasn’t about to take an arrow in the back.

“Look out!” a man called. “The prisoners are getting away!”

Shiro glanced up, but Darius didn’t even flinch.

Pay attention, Shiro!

Debaku quickly turned and with very precise blow, broke Ali and Shai’na’s chains in the same manner he had done for Razul.

Then he turned around to do battle.

Darius sensed Jessamine’s sudden surprise and flicked his eyes up as a black-skinned Mar’a Thulian cut through the prisoners’ chains.

The first man was up in an instant and killed five of his guards with a single slash of his magical weapon, but Darius ignored them. They were no consequence amidst his army of Scorpions.

Now is the time!

As that black-skinned adventurer—of all people—freed the powerful Abassir, Jessmine’s first thought was to summon her other sword.

Pulling together her magicks she called forth her blade from the void. As she did this, the Abassir with the hair swung his blade and cut down a swath of Darius’ Scorpion Guards just as her sword appeared in her hand.

She lunged forward, leaned and flung her blade through the air with the hilt angled downward. The sword twirled as she called out to him.

“Shiro!”

There was a commotion behind Shiro.

Darius clearly saw what was happening as he had the better angle to see. He snarled wordlessly.

And then Jessamine called out to him.

“Shiro!”

Turning, he saw the sword and caught it in his right hand. A thrill shot through him as he realized Razul was free, slashing his way through the few Scorpion Guards in the chamber. As he did this, Debaku seemed to be freeing the others.

“Are you trying to give me an opening to make quick work of you?” Darius asked. “You are distracted—you fool.”

Shiro turned around to face the sultan and couldn’t help but smile with triumph, knowing that Razul and Debaku, both top-tier adventurers, were free and working to free Ali and Shai’na.

Darius eyes narrowed onto the blade in Shiro’s hand and his demeanor suddenly changed. “What is this?” he snarled.

What have you done?

A shiver passed through Shiro and he was suddenly aware of Jessamine’s physical presence. His vision became blurry.

Do not worry, she conveyed. My sword is bonding with you, Shiro.

“What?!” Darius shot back aloud. “You only have one sword, whore!”

Shiro could… feel Jessamine’s grin, at her exuberance and her pounding heartbeat.

No, she conveyed. I have two swords.

Shiro’s mouth dropped as a memory hit him like a brick in the face.

“Ugh,” Jessamine said. “The sword doesn’t match. We should buy you a new one.”

“Iie!” Shiro shot back as he looked at himself in the tall mirror. “This sword was presented to me by—“

“Yes, yes!” she sighed. “Daimyo Karage. You’ve told me at least a dozen times, Shiro. It’s not even a powerful sword like mine.”

Shiro jerked his gaze toward her. “You have a sword?”

It was then that she smiled mysteriously. “Actually… I have two.”

“YOU WHORE!” Darius spat, feeling a sudden rage take him. “You kept this from me—for years!”

He was going to cut Shiro Takeda to pieces while Jessamine watched! Darius screamed, unable to hold back his rage, the tightness and heat in his face making his skin hurt.

Like a mirage in the desert, Darius flew forward, his feet lifting off the tiles as he swooped in like a bestial bird of prey and magic, his sword moving with such force it cleaved the wind like water.

But his blade was stopped—a bright light flashing in his eyes as he howled with rage. “What! Is! THIS?!”

Shiro could feel the power coursing through him, the magic and sword skills of Jessamine. Never had he imagined such power could be given to him through the mere contact of her sword!

With a renewed sense and belief that he could survive this encounter with Darious, Shiro shored up his mental fortitude and snarled through his teeth at Darius. “You are not the only one with jinni magic, now, Sultan!”

Oh gods, Jessamine conveyed, I didn’t know it would take hold so quickly. You are… far more powerful than I thought you would be, Shiro.

And then he pushed back, his might and his magically enhanced strength bolstered to heights Shiro was so far unaccustomed to that he was not sure he could control hit.

Darius flew back, but spread his arms and landed harmlessly on the tiles where his upturned black slippers slid across the tiles.

Bearing his teeth, he looked on at Shiro. “You can’t win.”

And then his eyes flicked to Jessamine.

“NO!” Shiro called out, but he moved too fast, swooping past Shiro, the point of his red blade taking Jessamine in the stomach.

Everything seemed to slow for a split second as Shiro reached out to stop Darius, but he was too fast.

As his sword went into her, the crowd cried out in sudden shock.

Jessamine made a pained sound as Darius smiled and glanced back at Shiro. Then to Jessamine he snarled, “If you will not be mine… you will be no one’s!”

He pulled his blade free and Jessamine hunched forward with a single convulsive jerk of her muscles. The onlookers gasping again.

Kami-sama!

“NOOOO!”

Darius twitched, then suddenly jumped back as Razul rushed forward and exchanged sword blows with him, but was quickly rebuffed by a powerful kick that sent him flying.

Debaku moved in next.

Shiro didn’t care that he could see every strike clearly, that his eyes could keep up with the sheer speed of their top-tier statuses now.

He only cared about Jessamine, and lunged up the marble steps. “Jessamine!” he called, sliding to his knees. He took her up in his arms as her blood poured between his fingers.

“Shiro…” she gasped, her eyes wide and searching.

He seemed to be aware of his own contorting face as if he were an outside observer to this samurai an jinni. “Oh no! Nononono!”

Behind them, Ali cried out as his blade sung against that of his opponents as he clashed with the Scorpion Guards.

Feet pattered furiously across the titles.

Darius snarled.

The razor sharp and deadly scrape of sword sounded through the open space.

“To your left!” Debaku called out.

The fighting continued, but Shiro could barely hear any of it.

Jessamine reached up with a shaking hand. “Shiro… Darius… you must….”

“I don’t care about Darius!”

“You have to—“

“Tch! Kami-sama! I only care about you!”

“You… fool.”

She managed to caress his cheek and as Shiro reached to steady her hand, she lost strength and her arm fell. Her fingers moved, grasping at the air as her arm hung over the marble step.

Shiro entwined his fingers with her and squeezed. “Jessamine!”