This title is in transition.

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©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

Brevin’s left arm flew up, the long, slim dagger in reverse grip along his forearm to deflect Lanthan’s blade. As Lanthan began to twist away, Brevin brought up a fist, aiming for his gut. Lanthan was better than that, having spun into Brevin, catching him off guard enough so that when the smaller man’s ass rammed into his hips, he stumbled enough for Lanthan to grip his left arm and flip him head over heels. He ended flat on his back in the sand, stunned for those few precious seconds it took for Lanthan to drop to his knees and straddle Brevin’s chest, his blade at Brevin’s throat.

Lanthan’s grin was barely sane underneath the long fall of fringe that spilled over the wide band tied about his skull. “Got ya.”

Brevin snarled, fingers digging into the sand. But Lanthan’s knees pinned Brevin’s arms to the ground.

“Only because it’s left-handed.”

“No excuse,” said a deep voice overhead. “A skilled warrior fights equally well with both hands.”

Brevin closed his eyes. Lanthan’s father, Krael, was a cruel taskmaster, even in training. Especially in training. He wouldn’t accept any less than Brevin’s or Lanthan’s best even if they had just come back from battle. He wouldn’t let them have fun and just blow off steam as Brevin had hoped to do. Can’t he pay attention to the others? There were plenty of other trainees in the practice grounds for Krael to torture.

Lanthan laughed, easing up on Brevin’s throat. “Try again?”

Brevin had wondered if it was a good idea to spar so soon after their return, but after they’d left Tykir with the healers, he and Lanthan had been much too keyed up to stay in the dining hall or go to the pools. Tykir would be all right, but neither of them had truly believed it until the healer had said it himself.

“Yes.” Brevin snatched his right arm up from under Lanthan’s left knee and swung it in a roundhouse toward his friend’s head. As he’d fully expected, Lanthan shied right and back so the punch missed. Weapons dropped in the sand, they tussled, the two of them grappling until Brevin’s greater bulk won out and he had Lanthan pinned underneath him. Lanthan could barely catch his breath for laughing, his cheek pressed to the sand with one arm trapped underneath him and the other held between them by Brevin. Glistening black skin stretched over the taut muscles as Lanthan struggled underneath his weight. Brevin breathed over the closely shorn hair on his friend’s neck. Continue reading EXCERPT – Dark Elves VI: Awakening →