The Flight&the Pursuit 2 ch.4

Nov 16, 2008, 6:21 PM |

Vars’s Teammates

"How far ya think he got?" Secha asked everyone. She flipped her head around, "well?"

"You saw the chief guard returning, he made it," Neer answered. His limp black hair jumped up when his head moved. They all had stayed there, waiting and watching for the guard’s return. Neer wore a new torn shirt and matching blue pants linked by a wide black belt.

Their whole house was small, very small. There were only three beds. Secha, being the only girl, automatically got one, Regi and Ragi, the twins and youngest people there, got the second, and Bote got the third. Wothin and Neer were too scared to try to take it from him. There was also a small little rinky-dink table, three chairs that all had seen better days, and a couch that could seat three, and if you sat in it too long it would eat you.

The only redeeming quality of it was that it had a very large, and lustrous window in the front. It was huge, you could see one hundred and eighty degrees through it. It was also a bay window with a seat in it on the inside. Bote Always sat there.

"Hey guys," Wothin whispered, "be quiet. Regi and Ragi just went to sleep and I don’t want them waking up till I’ve had some peace and quiet!" Wothin hated the twins. He also hated Neer and Secha’s consistent bickering, he really only liked Vars and Bote.

"Fine. Bote, you seen anything?" Secha calmly asked. He shook his head no. Secha walked into another room and came out again with her green hoody in hand. "I’m gonna go take a walk." She quickly tied her blonde hair into a long ponytail, slipped on the unzipped hoody over her white tank top, and walked out the door into the main part of their small village, Valt. They lived along the outskirts of their capital, Zezon.

Bote pulled out a black two inch switchblade, over half of it was the handle and the rest was the little blade. He started flipping it around in his hand, playing his own variation of Russian Roulette and he never lost.

"Bote never ceases to amaze me," Neer said to Wothin.

"What, that he’s an assassin?" he said sitting down in a chair next to Neer’s.

"Yeah. I mean he’s only fourteen and he can kill way better than you or Vars combined."

"Yeah, he must be related to an assassin or learned from one at the very least. I think he was born in Calm-" just then Bote stopped and threw the blade right next to Wothin’s ear. "Okay we’ll stop talking about it just don’t kill me." Wothin reached to yank the blade from the wall, but couldn’t. Then he used both hands and a piece of the yellow sun-tinted wall with the knife still in it came tumbling out.

"Ouch, imagine if that had been you."

"Yeah, I know." Bote walked over and quickly twisted then pushed up and pulled out, and it actually popped right out!

"What’s Secha doing?" Neer asked, walking up to the window.

"Well, getting apprehended, c’mon you three!" Regi and Ragi yelled in sync as they ran like red-headed blurs out the door.

"I thought they were asleep," Wothin said.

"Just c’mon!" Neer yelled. Secha was at the edge of the village where a guard with large arms and a sharp lance was trying to grab her and put her in cast-iron cuffs.

"I’d let her go if I were you!" Ragi yelled as he lined up a shot with his crossbow.

"You think yous can kill mee?" the guard drunkenly hiccupped. "I’s upposed to stop yous from leavin’, got that?"

"Right, your supposed to stop us, but you won’t ever get a chance to stop us," Wothin angrily yelled. Bote pulled out the switchblade and ran at the guard’s leg.

"Ay’! What yous doin’!" Bote stabbed him in the back of the knee and Secha grabbed his lance and got ready to cut the guard’s head off.

"Don’t EVER grab me! I don’t care if you’re a guard, or a judge, or Flarzon himself; no one puts cuffs on me!" Bote grabbed his knife back and then stabbed the intoxicated guard’s stomach and they all left the village.

"Well, that was the most subtle killing we’ve ever done!" Regi retorted. They ran towards Vars and their next plan of invasion for Zezon. They all had weapons, Secha had the guard’s lance, Ragi that crossbow, Regi had an extremely sharp dagger that he stole during their last raid on Zezon, Neer had a javelin, Wothin had his favorite pair of brass knuckles. Bote had……a dagger, a knife, a sword, twenty five different needles, shuriken, five switchblades, and his new foot blades. He also carried a machete, a mesh glove, a small manual drill, a throwing knife, and a scimitar. Bote was a walking arsenal in-and-of himself, and he kept it all in a long sleeve zip-down shirt and his undershirt, plus he never made a sound.

Bote ran to the front of them motioned for them to stop and to be quiet. Then he motioned ahead and there was a guard watching some far away farm houses.

"Good catch," Neer mumbled. Bote went into his sleeve and pulled out the throwing knife. He poised himself, aimed, pretended to throw it a few times, then he lobbed it. The guard inverted his back from the pain, then collapsed. They ran forward and looked where he was looking. They saw the leading port town with more guards around it.

"Someone important is shipping out today," Neer stated.

"Yeah, but who is it," Secha questioned.

"Well, only one way to find out……oh Wothin!" Regi said with a laugh.

"No, I’m not putting on a guard’s uniform again." Wothin despised the guard and the emperors and empresses.

"Well, it fits you best, and I think you’d look cute," Regi mocked.

"I hate you Regi."

"Just put it on, Mr. guard," Ragi laughed.

"Fine. Tell Vars where I am." The green uniform was a little loose but it would do.

"We’ll come back for you when we feel like it!" Ragi yelled at him.