Nickoli’s arms were laden with weapons when he came back into view. He stepped in, uninvited, and opened his arms; allowing each deadly piece to drop to the ground with an ear-splitting clang. I jumped back as the items ricocheted across the floor, and a club rolled to a stop by my feet.
Nickoli bent over and picked up a sword. He approached me, a menacing look on his face, and a flash of terror tore through me. The temptation to scream was strong, however I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. If his intention was to kill me, the deed would be long done before my cries for help would be answered. If they
ever answered. I kept my focus on the sharp tip of the sword as he advanced on me.
“If you choose not to trust me, you will have to protect yourself.”
He raised the sword, gripped the hilt in his fist, and hurled it into the floor at my feet. The tip embedded into the wood with a
I yelped in surprise and jumped back. With an angry glare, he turned to storm out of the room; leaving the pile of weapons scattered about the floor.
“I don’t know how to fight with a sword,” I called out, my voice void of the angry bluster it carried earlier.
He didn’t stop, but instead replied over his shoulder as his long strides carried him out the door. “Then
you best learn how.”
The slam of his door signaled the end to our conversation.