From: aaron@space.ualberta.ca (Aaron Humphrey)
Subject: [R] Bronwen & Angus vs. Vanshar
Reply-To: aaron@space.ualberta.ca
Organization: University Of Alberta, Edmonton Canada
X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.1 PL6]
Date: Thu, 12 Nov 1992 03:50:30 GMT


[With the approval of Bruce Lapham]


"Heads up," the voice said, and Angus turned, bringing his sword up almost
instinctively, to block the sword-blow that had been aimed at his back.  His
opponent was a Rameshander, swarthy and grinning evilly.

"You think you some hot fighter, eh?" the Rameshander said.  "Now we see how
you do against Vanshar bes-Vanshar!"

"Guy's full of hot air," the internal voice mutters.  Angus parried another of
Vanshar's blows, and another.  Then he regained his equilbrium and went more on
the offensive, with the voice's aid once more.  Then he felt another presence
coming up beside him.  Not a dangerous one, though, or the voice would have
warned him.

Bronwen saw Angus being beleaguered by a swarthy Rameshander, and decided he
could probably use some help.  Her Shillelagh sparkled with magical energy,
and she came up to Angus' side.

Vanshar sneered.  "Oh, it's the little lady priestess.  Wait'll the Captain
gets his hands on you.  He's got his eye on you, at least."  She did look
pretty good, Vanshar thought--even for an emaciated Northern girl. With a
proper attitude, she could make a good concubine.  He licked his lips, and
then cursed as Angus took advantage of his distraction to get in his first
wound, a cut in Vanshar's thigh.

Vanshar told himself to focus.  That was Remi's problem--he kept getting
distracted by the women, and trying to keep prisoners alive for ransom, and
not enough on the fighting itself.  Vanshar had bailed him out several times,
and gotten bawled out each time for killing valuable prisoners.  Having a
live captain was more important, though.  So he focused on the combat, not
seeing his opponents as male and female, but merely as humanoids with weapons.
The one with the cudgel wasn't a very skilled fighter, and the one with the
sword was a very odd mix of styles.  Most of the time his fighting style was
very straightforward, but once in a while it would go jerky, as he shifted to
a different move.  Almost as if someone was yelling warnings to him at crucial
times.

The club had some weird magic to it, though.  Although its wielder's style was
less than impressive, there was a lightness to the club, despite its
appearance, and once or twice it snuck in on him.

"Feint right, and then strike high and left," the voice said.  Angus obliged.
Vanshar wasn't quite fooled, and managed to parry Angus' blow, but Bronwen
took advantage of the opening to deal a strong blow to Vanshar's hip.  The
Rameshander's leg buckled, and he fell to one knee.  Angus rained down a
series of overhead blows, finally knocking Vanshar's sword from his hand.
Then he put his sword point to Vanshar's neck.  "Surrender," he said, all too
aware of Bronwen beaming approvingly beside him.

Vanshar took the opportunity to scrutinize the battle.  The Captain was lying
prostrate on the deck, with his opponent bending over him, trying to...heal
him?  And the Cote d'Azur was in flames.  The mast was aflame, and a jet of
flame was coming from the stern of the Arcas and licking at the side of the
pirate ship.  And it was listing noticeably, as well--somehow it was damaged
below the waterline.  The boarding lines were being cut, and the Arcas was
drifting away from it.  He couldn't see any pirates standing.

He considered his options.  Choosing death right now would be honorable, but
Vanshar had little urge to die just yet.  The Cote d'Azur was in flames, and
this ship was the only way back to land.  In Generica, perhaps he could escape
and find another ship.  Perhaps he could fall in with some slavers, who were
willing to ask few questions about his past.

He bowed his head.  "I surrender."


--
---Alfvaen(Canadian SF Quasi-Activist)
"It's not my fault.  The orchestra has disappeared."
   ---Hector Berlioz
Current Album--George Harrison:Gone Troppo
Current Read--Jack McDevitt:The Hercules Text