A Blessing and A Curse

Boro launched himself up onto his feet, his sword whipping around to catch two of the bandits' throats. They fell to the ground, one letting out a choking sound, the other grabbing his sliced throat as if trying to hold it together with just his hands. They would both be dead in seconds.

A quick assessment told Boro that there were still five men surrounding him with drawn swords. They began to react now, each moving in to try and kill him. They were many, but they were uncoordinated, and Boro was able to slip past two of their guards and get out of their ring of death. Boro spun himself around their backs using Wind Kisses The Valley, and sliced two of their ankles cutting through flesh and bone. One fell to the ground at once, clutching his wound and howling in pain and terror. The other tried to turn and found his injured leg unable to hold his weight up, he followed his wounded ally to the ground, his own shouts of pain overriding the man next to him.

Boro moved forward again and used Rock Splits The Falls, dodging an incoming strike aimed at his torso. In the dark everything was near impossible to see, but Boro's years of training had prepared him for situations such as this. His heightened senses told him where each enemy was coming from. He heard the grunt and fall of a booted foot to his left, he side stepped into Flowing `Gentle Brook, feeling the wind from the blade gust past his face; moved into Wind Across The Waves. His sword caught the charging man's sword arm at the elbow, cutting completely through the muscle and bone there. He fell to the forest floor holding his new stump, trying to stop the bleeding.

For a second the clouds split and the bright light of Korones moon's broke through, briefly allowing him to see the last two bandits looking stunned at their dying fellows, out of all the possible outcomes this was the last they could have ever imagined. It was one man, a young one at that, it should have been easy, they were told it would be easy. The terror-stricken highway men turned tail and ran, not bothering to sheath their swords. Boro didn't pursue them, instead he quickly dispatched the wounded men. They pleaded, begging Boro to spare them, imploring him to think of the robbers families. They swore that they had not planned on harming him, that they only wanted his gold, but with their wounds they would never make it from this forest. Death was a mercy for them.

Boro searched their bodies looking for clues to how they knew where to find him. He had a strong suspicion of who was responsible for all the robberies in the area. In a forest as large as this there was no way they could have randomly stumbled upon him. They were definitely informed of him and the direction he was headed. They must have been following him since he left that small town with the inn.

As soon as Boro had noted the inn had been completely empty of life, and the innkeeper himself, he knew to expect trouble on the road. Even in a town such as that there should have been some drunkards passed out in a booth. That there was no one there, and the town dead quite in the early hours, spoke the truth, that the men in the village were the bandits waylaying travelers.

Too full of anger to go back to sleep, Boro relit his fire and stayed up the rest of the night waiting for the sun.

When the first rays of light began peaking through the forest canopy Boro kicked sand over his fire and set off to follow the bandits' trail.

The signs of their movements were obvious to someone who knew what to look for. A broken twig here, some crushed flowers there, Boro followed their trail easily for the better part of the morning, backtracking multiple times, where the bandits had gotten themselves lost.

It was finally in the early afternoon when Boro began to hear the sounds of man. Loud voices, they obviously had no fear of being stumbled upon, permeated the otherwise peaceful forest.

When he was just a few yards away he got to his belly and slowly inched forward until he could make out the bandit's camp. It had the look of an unorganized outpost. There were two tents and a small shaded pavilion. He saw men moving in a hurry throughout the camp. They seemed to be making ready to move, even as Boro spotted the tents he saw two men move in to pull them down. Then he spotted two men sitting down, their faces and clothing were cut and torn in places, as if they had been running blindly through the woods at night.

The bandits he had let live, had made it back and warned their friends. He was glad, he had hoped for this exact thing, that they'd all be together. He counted about nine others, eleven total. One of the nine others, a short burly man with a thick beard, was yelling at another that the bandits needed to find Boro, and kill him to avenge their fallen bandits, not run like vermin.

Besides the shouting man and the bandit being yelled at, none of the others carried weapons around with them. They must have been here for a long time to be so comfortable not carrying around blades, that, or they didn't truly know what they were doing.

Boro drew his blade, stood up and walked out of his hiding spot. He walked straight into the middle of their camp.

"You men, don't move or I will strike you all dead" Boro said, not shouting, but loud enough for all to hear.

Immediately all the men jumped into action, or tried to but Boro moved like lightning. Before anyone had taken two steps he was at the man who had been shouting seconds before in an instant, blade held to his throat, his hand around the neck of the other.

At that moment a sunbeam broke through the canopy and shone on to the badge pinned to Boro's coat. The gold lightning bolt shone for all to see now. The gold lightning bolt that symoblized his first step to mastery of the sword.

"I said if you moved, you would die. Should I kill you both now?" Boro asked the two men softly, both their eyes leaving the golden badge to look at his face.

"You're men from that village I passed through, I recognize you from dicing in the inn" Boro squeezed the other man's throat tightly to make sure he knew he was referring to him.

"Cheating me out of my coin wasn't good enough? You had to rob me while I slept too?" He squeezed harder, the man's face began turning blue.

Boro dropped the man, who fell to the ground gasping and clutching his throat.

"You all will give up banditry, or else I will come back to your village and kill every last one of you, and your families too." Boro declared loudly, his eyes fell to the short man's, his sword still at his throat. Of course he had no intention of going back to that village, or killing their innocent family members, but fear was a good motivator for men like these.

Everyone else looked stumped and nodded there heads when Boro looked at them. Everyone except the short man that is.

"Fight me ye craven dog, ye killed me brother, n' fer tha' I'll have me revenge" The burly man said to Boro. Spitting at the ground in front of Boro's feet when he looked his way.

"Very well, a duel then" Boro said, dropping his blade from the man's throat and allowing him to draw his sword. Boro took a step back and took a ready stance, Rabbit and the Hound.

"Anyone else who wishes to die, may fight me with your friend, he will need your help" Boro said seconds before the short man yelled and charged him.

No one else drew their weapons, no one else stepped forward to die.

"Very well, it is just you and I then" With one side step and slash, Boro killed the man. He took no pleasure in it, but knew it had to be done.

"Bury him deep, then go home to your families, and if I have to come back none will be able to save you" Boro spoke with harsh truth. "Return what you've stolen, I don't care how you do it, but do it you will, and thank the light they blessed you by bringing me here, for others would not be so merciful"

Boro turned away and began his long walk back to where he had left his horse.