Kapitel 110: The Battle of Binds and Blades
The force knocked Jostice to the ground.
"Get back to your feet!" Varko said, lowering his leg. "Or I'll kick you again."
Jostice's eyes found Leslie watching somberly. He couldn't allow the pain running through his back to twist his face ugly. They'd been apart so long, he didn't want the last thing she was him aching.
He winked. The same wink she gave him the night he was free from the colosseum. A wink that said, 'everything is going to be ok' even if it wasn't. Leslie lips pulled upward, cheeks rounding. The smile he'd missed inside the colosseum.
Varko drove a boot in his side, "get to your feet!"
Jostice rolled to his knees. It took more effort rising to his feet. The ropes bound around him so tightly it made it near impossible to stand. He recalled the time he was bound like this once before; the day before his brother was taken from him. 'All you have to do is drink …'
He shook the voice from his head. Scarlet strands:
Jostice looked to Leslie's hair; the torchlight making it blaze brilliantly. Olive skin: He next looked to her flesh, gleaming that perfect tan; And the smell of the prairie: his nose caught her scent, and for a moment, he felt like he was back at the ranch with her.
He found her chestnut eyes then her plump, red lips. She mouth I. love. you. and Jostice read her words. Against his own pride and will, mouthed them back.
Heckles yanked on Leslie's hair, chuckling. "I'm taking this one into the cave! I'll do my business there …"
Yurk looked up a mountain path, "and I'll take him to the top." Jostice stumbled from the force of his captives boot. "Move!"
Jostice's eyes stayed locked on hers until she disappeared into the blackened gap in the wall.
From there, they scaled up the mountain, climbing switchback after switchback. An ascend that took nearly fifteen minutes. Jostice mind swirling with dark thoughts, wondering what became of Boone and Leslie.
At the top was a ring of torches, illuminating a cliff that led to an endless abyss. The beat of water fading down the canyon. A mist from the falls rising.
Varko pushed him between the torches, "stand over there …" He pointed to the far western end, where the cliff hung at his back.
Jostice looked around, "you plan on making a spectacle—"
"Quiet! We wait for the one who watches."
Varko stood on the eastern end of the ring, pulling a silver-tipped blade from his hip. He tossed it to Jostice's feet, blade sinking between earth.
Jostice caught a blur fade in from the darkness. A silhouette outside the ring of torches, appearing like a faceless apparition. Near it's hip, on it's hand, a vibrant red ruby sparkled.
"Cut your bounds and we shall prepare for our last dance."
Jostice eyes narrowed at the apparition then turned on Varko then whipped towards the knife.
He expended much of his energy, kneeling and sawing through the knot that bound him, but once it cut clean, the ropes uncoiled like a snake.
"Loop one end around your non-lethal hand." Varko demanded. "Make sure it's tight, then toss me the other end."
Jostice noosed the rope, pulling it tot around his left wrist like he'd been bound once more. He tossed the other end to Varko, feeling his strength as the Yurk pulled and did the same. With each of their left wrist bound, Varko yanked an obsidian blade from his hip; the black shard glimmering in the torchlight. He raised it over his head like a scorpions tail. Jostice held his out like a claw. They both took two steps back until the rope lost its slack, circling around the ring; the ancient dance of the Yurks.
The torchlights flickered.
Varko roared, pulling on the rope, his strength unmatched. Jostice leaned against the force, unable to contest the power. He stumbled forward, a fist moving towards his face. Quickly he dropped to his knees, momentum rolling him forward. Wind from the swing brushing against his back.
The two men took steps back until the rope tightened once more, stepping one leg over the other, circling the ring.
"You think you can defeat a mighty warrior such as me?" Varko's voice was harsh and rapsy. The wound at his throat scabbed. "I will not fall to a man weak as you—"
Jostice charged, steel forward. The blades whipped with lighting speed, meeting, sparks spinning through the air.
They found themselves on opposite sides. Rope tot. Obsidian above the Yurks head. Steel stretched out in Jostice's hand
From outside the ring, the silhouette watched in silent amusement, awaiting the fall of one and the rise of a champion.
Jostice smirked. "I've defeated you twice before … why not make it a third."
Varko's eyebrows furrowed. He lifted his chin and roared, yanking the rope. This time Jostice gave into the man's power; both men coming forward. One blade high, the other low, sliding through flesh.
The rope tightened and they groaned. Blood dripped down Jostice's right shoulder while Varko's hip drained.
"I will admit, for an old slinger, you're a worthy adversary."
Jostice nodded. "And I'll admit, for a young warrior, you've still got much to learn."
He could see that the attacks were weighing on the man. Varko's breath grew heavy. Body moving slower; a problem with having more power than stamina. Once Varko expelled his energy Jostice could take him down one swipe at a time.
He thought, I just need to stay clear of that fist …
The two danced between the flames for several more rounds. Each one catching the other until the soft brown sand was black from drinking blood.
Jostice spun, swinging the blade low, giving two more wounds to the Yurks thigh, and receiving one to his back.
Rope tot, the men circled much slower now. Jostice's lungs burned with each breath while the Yurk's thick, muscular legs wombling as he stepped counterclockwise.
"You killed my father …" The Yurk's lips dropped. "You are no honorable warrior. I heard how you blew his knees from him; a cowards move."
"When you've fought in the colosseum you learn there is no such thing as a coward." Jostice said. "Only men and women doing whatever they can to survive."
"Lies! Cowards run, hide, and use cheap trickery! Warriors stand and fight!" Varko beat on his chest. "My father taught me that!"
"And look where he is now … his pride was his downfall." Jostice spat. "A true warrior knows when to use his head before his fist — only then will they be complete — a good man taught me that."
"And who was that?"
"My father."
The Yurk stopped, glaring at the man. "And look now. Both our father's have met their fates. We will see whose were correct."
"Then let us make this our final dance."
Varko nodded and charged with his last bit of energy.
Jostice went on defense. Steel met obsidian as he parried each swing. Blow after blow shoving him back towards the cliff. Varko roared with each swing; swinging with a flurry in hopes for a lucky connection. Jostice ducked too slowly, jaw against boney elbow. He stumbled two steps back. Varko followed with a fist, and the Ace hit the ground sliding to the edge, grunting. The knife twirling into the abyss.
Varko loomed over him, mist circling, and fire blaring at his back. He lowered the bladetip at the man. "You've been defeated … do you choose to die a warrior or do you choose trickery—"
The earth shook with dynamite force.
Varko stumbled forward, disappearing over the edge.
A pop came from Jostice's shoulder and he groaned. The weight of the man dragged him towards the edge. Rope tot. Varko dangling. Jostice got to his knees, leaning back, unable to carry the burden much longer. He yelled. Wrist burning, hand white.
From the shadows, a second Yurk came through the ring, walking towards the edge. E'krek peered over.
"My Yurk!" Varko outstretched his hand. "Help me!"
Jostice groaned inching closer to the edge.
E'krek glanced over at him, yanking a blade from his hip. He raised it over his head.
Jostice looked to him unable to defend.
From the abyss, Varko wailed, "what are you doing—"
The blade sliced the air and met its mark. The rope whipped. And Jostice flew back while Varko was devoured by darkness.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein