Broken Glass (Glass Complex Book 1) Read Free Page A

circle of flashing steel forming an impenetrable barrier. He landed with perfect balance, facing his opponent who had watched the ceremonial display with a disdainful expression. Steg did not hear the soft ripple of applause from the watching Homeworlders.
    “Come now, is that the best you can do?”
    Steg ignored the jibe. He had intended to unsettle his opponent and thought he may have succeeded. They stood facing each other with swords raised, and began their dance of steel. Each move, each feint, each thrust and parry, was a component of a formal and structured dance intended to seek out the weaknesses of the other. Steg maintained a solid wall of steel beyond which his opponent could not reach. Suddenly Steg moved out, changing both style and strategy. Attack instead of defense. Marius countered. The two swords clashed and rang out their songs of battle. Steg felt a wave of exhilaration as adrenalin flowed. Power surged. He pressed forward, spinning Ebony furiously against the now defensive Marius. A flash of concern touched the visitor’s face.
    Marius disengaged and stepped back and the two combatants paused in their furious exchange.
    “You have potential, barbarian.” His breathing was labored.
    “If you need a rest, I’m sure it can be arranged.”
    Steg defended against the savage response and instead of retreating, pressed forward. Marius feinted and stepped sideways, his blade thrusting as he detected an unguarded opportunity. However, Steg had turned away and utilizing another Cazanae maneuver, leapt high, spinning up and over his opponent, still maintaining his wall of steel. At the apex of the leap, he used the hilt of his sword to touch Marius on the head. The maneuver was a calculated insult. Marius lashed out as Steg hit the floor, but he parried the blow with ease. They circled, continuing to assess and re-assess each other. The two swords were never still. The fight was a dazzling display of pyrotechnic energy from spinning and clashing blades. They were wielded by two well-trained and expert swordsmen, each seeking the slightest sign of weakness in the other. Steg was exceptionally fit and his confidence increased as he detected the beginning of his opponent’s exhaustion.
    Marius spun, feinting and striking at his opponent’s body. Steg saw the play and accepted the challenge. The sequence was too rapid for the audience to follow. Steg spun Ebony and for a moment it appeared to leave his hands. Marius misread the maneuver and attacked. Steg stood back, blood dripping from a fine line drawn down his cheek. The visitors cheered.
    Then Marius dropped his sword, a shocked and savage expression spreading over his face. He clasped his right shoulder. His right arm hung limply down his side. Blood seeped through his fingers and started to flow down his arm. Steg stood still, head bowed, Ebony at rest. His cheek cut was superficial.
    The drill sergeant stepped forward into the drill square.
    “Gentlemen, I declare honor has been satisfied.” He caught Marius as he sagged. “Do you wish our medic or your own to attend?”
    “My own, damn you,” came the response through pale and clenched lips. The drill sergeant signaled the visitors to assist Marius. One of the Imperials stopped near Steg.
    “Be aware, barbarian—be wary of dark nights. Marius or his family will seek revenge. And we’ll help him. Hide yourself well.”
    The offworlder moved on before Steg could respond. He shrugged and turned to Master Brioude who had joined the group of concerned Homeworlders now surrounding Steg.
    “Your sword, Master.” He proffered Ebony, almost reluctantly.
    “No, no. Ebony is yours, now. You’ve earned it with honor. And your medic is here, to attend to your cut.”
    Steg nodded and turned to the waiting medic. Waves of exhaustion washed through him as the cut began to smart. His system was descending from its adrenalin and possibly Ebony-induced high. He clung possessively to the weapon as the medic