By Sieran Lane in Fiction — Oct 20, 2023

A Fanciful Sword Fight

“You know, you look even better as a man than as a woman.”

AI image generated by author via Nightcafe

Click here to go back to the previous chapter, ‘A Brave Change.’ Or return to the beginning of the ‘Hidden Hearts’ series. Check out the chapter guide.

Ivan donned his fedora, and swept all of his long, hip-length black hair back under it. Jasmine beamed at him and said, “You know, you look even better as a man than as a woman.”

Before Ivan could answer her, Jasmine had already turned away to put on her travel gear. Ivan hoped she wouldn’t hear how loudly his heart was beating.

They slipped out of their room at the inn. A short while ago, Jasmine had sneaked around when she couldn’t sleep, and discovered that their horse and carriage had been stolen. Even the innkeeper was missing. Ivan considered knocking on the doors of other patrons to see if they could find allies, but decided against it. They could trust no one but themselves.

Jasmine suddenly gripped his arm and he almost cried out in alarm. “Shhh!” She brought her finger to her lips. “I can hear someone outside.” She grasped Ivan’s hand and pulled him to hide behind the innkeeper’s desk. Ivan felt so strange and lost. There was also a surprising lack of items to see behind the desk.

Footsteps sounded, and a man stepped through the doorway. He took his hat off and squeezed it with an anxious air. “Hello? Please help! My master got into an accident and we need a place to stay.” The man looked incredibly depressed. He also seemed younger than what his clothing suggested. At most, he was thirty years of age.

Impulsively, Ivan rose up from behind the desk. He felt Jasmine tugging at his trousers to dissuade him, but he ignored her. Ivan gave his brightest smile. “Hello, sir. Take your master in. He can definitely stay here.”

The depressed man bowed with gratitude, and Ivan noticed he had a few streaks of grey hair on the top of his head. The man said, “I am Randy. Loyal servant of His Highness Vermeer the Great. Would you be so kind as to lend me a hand? I…don’t have the strength to carry him alone.”

Jasmine’s tug at Ivan’s trousers turned into a yank. But Ivan still did not heed her warning; he was driven by a daring that even he seldom possessed. “It would be my pleasure,” he said. He hoped Randy wouldn’t notice his strange reluctance to take off his hat.

Ivan pried free of Jasmine’s grasp, and strode towards the man. With some nervousness, Ivan saw that he was a full head shorter than Randy. He prayed that the other man wouldn’t see his lack of facial hair, either.

When they got to the master’s carriage, Jasmine appeared beside Ivan, making him jump. Randy looked startled too, and Jasmine looped an arm around Ivan’s. “I am his wife,” she said. “I may not have a man’s strength, but I am still plenty strong.”

Randy bowed politely, uttering that he would be grateful for her help regardless. Ivan worried that Randy would expect him to have a typical man’s strength. Even when he was Ada, Ivan wasn’t that strong as a woman.

Still, the gears spun in his mind. With Jasmine’s help, they could position themselves strategically, so that Randy wouldn’t see anything amiss in his lack of arm strength.

***

Master Vermeer was sprawled over the cushioned seats in the carriage; his breaths were a soft rattle, and his large hand covered what looked to be a wound on his stomach.

Randy took hold of his master’s arms, and directed Ivan — and Jasmine — to take up his legs and torso.

Just when they carried him to the couches at the inn, something whistled through the air. Before they could react, a dart landed on Vermeer’s leg. Randy screamed while Vermeer groaned, already too weak to protest.

Ivan uttered, “Is that poisonous?” He peered warily at the dart, afraid to pluck it out, but also feeling the need to do something.

Jasmine cried out, “This isn’t a safe spot. Come on!”

It wasn’t as though they truly had a safe spot, but they manoeuvred into the room Ivan and Jasmine were staying in earlier. They boarded up the windows, and bolted the door. They would still be in trouble if someone were hiding in this room, but Ivan hoped they wouldn’t be so unlucky.

Despite the initial thrill of dressing up as a man again, Ivan (or Ada) suddenly felt helpless and incompetent, and he hated himself for it.

Someone squeezed his hand. It was Jasmine. “Ivan, it’ll be okay,” she whispered. “We will pull through.”

Randy interrupted them, “Oh no, I don’t think His Highness is going to make it.” Tears started streaming down his cheeks.

Ivan was aghast. Not that he would be unmoved by a stranger’s suffering, but he was amazed at the loyal servant’s reaction.

Randy continued, “Please, good sir, good ma’am, will you do something to save my lord? He doesn’t deserve to die so young. He’s only one and thirty!” Randy mopped off more tears from his face.

Ivan exchanged a glance with Jasmine, who shot him a rueful face. Neither of them knew anything about herbs or healing. Ivan was convinced that they had to at least take out the dart and staunch the wound. But what if doing so made the bleeding worse?

There was no time to think nevertheless. A loud rap sounded on the door. A sniveling, harsh voice said, “Come out here, you lying bastard. Let us all get our claws in you. You don’t deserve to live with all the crimes you’ve committed.”

Jasmine held on tight to Ivan’s hand, as if urging him not to talk back. Randy, on the other hand, exclaimed, “Your master is the liar and criminal. My master is innocent and framed for your schemes. You won’t get us, ever.”

The sniveling voice snickered. “We’ll see about that.” Then came the sound of the door being kicked, hard as a battering ram. It was only moments before the door would give way.

Randy whispered with panic, “Sir, how are you with a sword?”

Ivan fought back a cough of dismay. “I — I’m not very good, sir.”

Randy shook his head. “Neither am I. My master is an accomplished swordsman, though. I normally wouldn’t trouble a stranger with this, but I am desperate. If you beat the man outside in a swordfight, I will be sure to reward you handsomely.”

Jasmine made a pout, doubtless about to say that they had no need for money. But Ivan spoke faster this time. “I’ll do it.” Jasmine gave him a stare like Ivan was out of his mind. But he stood his ground.

Randy was all smiles, however, and said, “Here is my master’s blade. I hope you will use it well.” He handed the weapon, scabbard and all, to Ivan. When Ivan pulled it out, he was stunned. Unless he was mistaken, the entire blade was made of gold, and the handle was studded with gemstones.

Jasmine cut in, “Ivan, please don’t go. You don’t know how to fight.” The fear and strain in her voice was palpable.

Meanwhile, Randy said, “Ma’am, I’m sure you’re very concerned about your husband’s safety, but I can tell that he will be the victor. I do not have many gifts, but I do have a bit of prescience. Your husband will win the fight!”

Jasmine shook her head, clearly unwilling to rely on such fortune telling. In Ivan’s view, however, they had no other choice. As dire as the situation was, he would rather die in a swordfight than to sit here, do nothing, and be slain like sitting ducks. He cursed inwardly, and regretted turning down Emmett’s offer to teach him how to duel. Emmett was Jasmine’s older brother.

In the next second, the door broke from its hinges and collapsed. They faced a tall, thin man who looked like a bodyguard. The villain’s smirk conveyed his delight. “Well, well, well, who do we have here? Randy, has your master tired of you at last, and gotten himself a new plaything?” He raked his eyes over Ivan’s form. “And what a pretty boy he is!”

Randy hissed. “Our relationship is none of your business, Giles. Or are you too much of a coward to challenge this young man?”

Giles shot him a dirty look, then drew out his own sword. It was a dangerous, steel thing with a darkwood hilt. Ivan carried his sword like he had seen Emmett do dozens of times before. He didn’t seriously believe in divination, but if Randy’s predictions were true, then…

Without warning, Giles lanced at him with his sword, and Ivan barely managed to dodge. The two engaged in a deadly sword fight, except it was more Giles swinging at him, and Ivan putting on a show and avoiding contact. Ivan wasn’t a trained fighter, but he somehow evaded the thrusts — or was Giles going easy on him?

Ivan backed away more and more, as his opponent’s weapon slashed at him with an unstoppable fervour. Very soon, Ivan would be trapped.

Giles thrust his sword at him again, and Ivan dove behind a wooden pillar. The sword penetrated the wood, narrowly hitting Ivan’s face.

Just when Giles was about to yank his sword out of the wood, Ivan did something without thinking. He swung the gold sword down and chopped off the steel blade from its hilt.

Both men were frozen with shock. But Ivan recovered faster. He whirled around and pressed the gold sword against Giles’ throat. With a confidence he didn’t feel, Ivan yelled, “Surrender now or I’ll give you no mercy.”