The Darkslayer: Book 02 - Blades in the Night by Craig Halloran Page A

fair enough? You’re a sport, aren’t you?” she said with a toothy smile.
    “ Let’s give it a look, then,” Venir said.
    At that the thinner sister produced a slender, twin-bladed dagger with a black onyx hilt about nine inches long. She handed it to Venir. He eyed it, thumbed the edge, and then stuck it into the table that Frigdah and Luke had brought over. Melegal and his opponent dragged their chairs to opposite sides of the table and sat down.
    “ What’s your name,” Melegal asked her, looking up and tilting back on his chair.
    “ Haze,” she said, trying to see what he was looking at. “You ever been challenged by a woman before?”
    Venir could see she was flirting, but Melegal kept his gaze away.
    “ Not under these circumstances. This time of night, I’m usually challenged by women much prettier than you,” he said with a scowl.
    “ You’d be lucky to wind up with a gal like me,” she said then spat on the ground.
    “ How charming,” he said, bringing his eyes down to meet hers.
    “ You ain’t so tough, thief. I know you,” Haze said. “You’re an urchin like the rest of us. You and your big friend—we remember you.”
    Venir looked at Melegal, but the thief didn’t look his way. He didn’t recall the three sisters, but he had no reason to disbelieve their claim. Not wanting to dredge up what they might have in common, Venir hollered over to the barkeep for the rules.
    The stocky barkeep with hairy black arms strolled into their midst. His scars and tattoos suggested he’d once been a soldier. He looked sleepy, smoking his long thin cigar and turning his smoke-reddened eyes toward the table. Venir clasped the man on the shoulder, who nodded and then spoke with authority:
    “ Hands flat on the table, both of you,” the barkeep said. “When I say go, the one who grabs the blade first gets the first strike … or stab. Whoever doesn’t get the blade keeps both hands on the table. When I say go again, the one with the blade keeps one hand on the table and one on the blade. Gets one shot at either of the opponent’s hands with the blade. The dodger can only move one hand or the other. Whoever draws blood first wins. But …” The barkeep stretched out his fingers wide. “If the dodger moves both hands, it’s a forfeit. Are you both clear on the rules?”
    They nodded.
    Hand stabs were a popular traditional skill practiced among all races on the world of Bish. As a result, plenty of individuals had missing fingers and/or scars where hands had been impaled. Hand stabs was one of the most exciting and common tavern challenges in the City of Bone. The stakes were always high and there were several hand stab heroes—not those one might expect. Some of the best players had hardly any scars to show, while others were scarred many times. Venir had seen massive brutes from the field take the risk against someone who appeared to be a lesser opponent. But many delicate and defter hands made such grizzled challengers pay.
    Venir could see that Haze’s hands were rough and calloused, but without scars. He rubbed his chin. Her mysterious dark eyes kept him wary, but Melegal’s scowl was just fine.
    The flickering torch flames seemed to dim as the crowd quieted in anticipation. The odds favored Melegal. Venir let Luke manage the betting for him. He liked the young man. He eased into the crowd for a closer look.
    The barkeep drew a loud breath and said, “Ready?”

 
CHAPTER 14
     
     
    As the barkeep’s voice rang out, the room took in one unified breath.
    “ Go!”
    Venir watched Haze strike like a snake, snatching the blade first. Melegal’s long slender hands remained flat on the table. The crowd had puzzled looks. The wagering began favoring Haze amidst some grumbles. Even Venir was surprised that Melegal hadn’t moved at all.
    “ You’re a righty, I see,” Melegal said. “Good for you. I’m a gentleman, now, so ladies first. Take your strike.”
    Keeping her right elbow down,