Dima was already travelling for the second day as part of Ason's mounted detachment. If at first the trip itself seemed to him something quite ordinary and uncomplicated, then after a couple of hours the guy changed his opinion to the opposite. His legs were rubbing through his jeans to zero, and his arse was begging for mercy every second of the way, threatening to become square by the end of the trip.
The first day passed quickly, riding for a couple of hours and nearly driving the horse into a ditch a couple of times, to the hooting and laughter of his companions, especially Ason. He was a serious man, and noticing his agony he offered him a strange ointment. On being asked what it was, he replied with his usual sneer. 'Horse manure.'
Dima at once guessed that he was lying, besides the whole lower part of the torso was aching, the guy grabbed the cherished jar, to his surprise, its contents really helped. For the rest of the evening, Ason and his entourage told various stories and anecdotes.
The second day passed approximately in the same way, in the evening Dima with a square arse sat down near the fire and talked to Ason sitting next to him.
"Can you tell me what is waiting for me?" The interlocutor smiled wryly, and having roared his glance at the lad answered.
"We'll make a man out of you, because you look like a dead man, and do you know how to use it?" Ason smiled, pointing at the boy below the waist.
"Man, are you crazy..." Dima exploded with indignation, but Ason with barely restrained laughter moved his finger to the cleaver, which was hanging dead weight on Dima's belt.
"Hmm, more likely no than yes." Dima thought a little how to answer, of course, he didn't have the skills of fighting with cold weapons, but he didn't want to show himself weak by giving Ason an extra reason for jokes.
"Well, let's check," Ason stood up and took off the sword from his belt, putting it aside and stayed together with the scabbard in his hands, Dima tried to pull the same trick, and while he was fiddling he was called by Ason.
"Come on, take out the cleaver, don't be afraid in the worst case I'll just die a little, hahaha." Dima with a stone face took out the cleaver and rushed to attack, Ason with a sharp movement made a horizontal blow, taking advantage of the length of his weapon. The blow came on the lower part of the blade, and was strong enough for Dima to drop the blade.
"Ai, fuck" Dima's mouth burst out, the guy rubbed his arm, rightly expecting the fight to be interrupted for a while. But Ason had a different opinion, after waiting for a while he lightly kicked his sparring partner's knee. Dima, obviously not expecting such rat-like behaviour, collapsed like a dead man with a long groan.
"Grandpa, you're out of your mind!" Angrily shouted Dima, spitting saliva on the cold ground.
"And you, kid, don't shout for nothing, a real fight is a continuous dance, a stop is equal to death, remember that."
"Now get up, let's get on with it, or have you run out of steam?"
'Well, bitch, now we'll dance with you.' Dima said to himself and with a sharp jerk did a somersault towards Ason, quickly grouping himself he charged his foot into the old man's stomach. But he blocked the blow with his scabbard, giving his opponent a smug grin.
But Dima didn't stop there and pushed off the ground with his hands and got to his feet, the elbow of the guy was sharp. But even here Ason got away from him, just taking a step to the side, the second blow to the head also flew past. Even in spite of his age, Ason could easily evade his blows, as if he could read the guy's movements like an open book.
"Come on, kid, show me your fighting face!" Ason shouted, lazily swinging for a straight-as-rail punch, letting it pass him by Dima promptly shortened the distance and showered his opponent with a hail of blows. Most of them were simply dodged or blocked by Ason.
'Now!' - Dima exclaimed to himself, pushing the old man back to the tree, he took a step backwards, but stumbled back against the tree. Dima took advantage of the second of delay and struck him in the head. To his surprise, Ason stayed in place and simply intercepted his hands, clamping them in his palms like in a vise.
Ason wanted to say something, but Dima, whose consciousness was already swimming in the sea of adrenaline, intended to win, to strike at least one blow. The guy sharply moved his hands apart, making way for himself, and with an instant movement he came close and smashed his forehead into his opponent's nose.
For a moment everything was silent, and only the breathing of the two men interrupted the evening silence. Red drops of blood dripped from Ason's nose onto Dima's forehead.
After standing like that for a couple of moments, Dima pulled away, by which time Ason had let go of his hands, and there was nothing to bind them. Ason wiped the blood away with the sleeve of his kimono, and with a cold expression on his face slowly moved towards Dima.
He felt the imminent proximity of death and began to pivot back fearfully, the expression on Ason's face was cold as death, filled with cold fury. And its owner moved silently towards Dima with clenched fists. The air around him became somehow sticky, foreshadowing a one-wicket morass.
'Oh shit I pissed him off, bitch what do I do?' - Dima's mind frantically tried to look for a way out, running was not an option around the dark forest, fighting was madness, and just to talk just did not realise.
"The boy..." loudly said Ason approaching literally close, with every second Dima was getting more and more nervous, of course he liked to fight, but to be beaten up not so much, and knowing perfectly well that now the second thing would happen he relaxed as much as possible, 'Relaxed body gets less fractures, what would I do without Dicovery channel' thought the boy and stood like a stumbling block, preparing for the inevitable. The man's formidable shadow had already fallen over the young man, and he dazedly closed his eyes and prepared for the worst.
"Boy..."
"You're good," Ason said calmly and grabbed him by the shoulders, - you have a good base, we'll make a good fighter out of you, believe me. Dima relaxed in joy and in the same second found himself on the ground.
"Ouch, what are you doing?"
"Fighting is like dancing, and I, as the best dancer, left the last movement behind me," they both laughed after a little silence.
"Mr Ason, one of Clan Leader Mena's handmaidens returned to the camp, he bowed quickly and reported."
"Half an hour away from us we found a camp of brigands," at the last two words Ason smiled and looked at Dima with meaning. But quickly turning his head to his subordinate he asked.
"How many, what they're armed with, in short, give me everything you know." The warrior nodded, his story was short and informative. There were seven bandits in the camp, dressed in bloody clothes, only one of them had some semblance of chain mail, a couple of spears, axes and clubs, and a dagga for the leader.
At this word Dima looked incomprehensibly at Ason, who with a sharp movement snatched the weapon of his interlocutor and showed it to Dima.
In his hands the guy held a one-and-a-half sword, without any hint of a hilt at all, there was no hilt, the blade simply passed into the hilt, the second surprise was the tip, or rather its absence, at the place where two points converge into one point on swords he was used to, there was only a strip of metal, slightly rounded at the edges.
In other words, the blade was rectangular, and very ugly in appearance. Dima gave the weapon to the warrior and he continued.
"We managed to overhear their conversation, they were discussing the upcoming war, someone even suggested to join the clan of Umi," At these words the expression on the face of Ason took a look, clearly expressing one particular phrase 'I'm not even surprised'.
"So what did they decide?" Ason asked, with a very simple purpose, if these gentlemen decided to move towards the coast, he would let them go if not, then their fate would be unenviable.
"They argued for about half an hour, and finally decided not to go anywhere, they even took a vote, and the leader had the decisive vote. "He said, 'I don't give a fuck about going anywhere, especially since someone has to look after the refugees,' and put an end to the matter."
"All right, gather the people, it's time for a good stretch." Ason grinned at the woods, and then looked at Dima.
"And you will come with us, sit in the distance and observe, it will be useful for you." Dima, discouraged by this news, mentally cursing the Chorus for such luck, nodded to Ason.
The group gathered quickly and in forty minutes they were already watching the camp of bandits. It was only a camp, a campfire and a couple of awnings. The inhabitants of the camp were discussing something casually and cheerfully, and some of them were asleep.
"For the extermination of this rabble, a plan is unnecessary, so let's just circle around them and start on the signal." The group of warriors nodded silently and six warriors went in different directions.
"And you, Dima, learn, if you eat a lot of rice and train, you can do the same... well, maybe a little worse, hehehe" Ason smiled and started to move forward with another warrior.
"AAAAH!" Unexpectedly for Dima the old man shouted like a bloodthirsty beast, the bandits, who in their subcortex always expected a punitive detachment, instantly gathered and grabbed their weapons and tried to stand in a circle, but Ason's warriors were faster, two bandits could not even stand up as they were killed.
A scuffle began, or rather to say a beating, in 30 seconds of the fight there were four of the bandits alive. The leader of the bandits was fencing with Ason, the old man was pushing the leader of the bandits and he was losing ground step by step.
Two bandits, using long spears, held back the superior forces, not allowing them to move closer, they were covered by the third bandit with a two-handed working axe. Dima watched this spectacle as mesmerised, which was actively accompanied by shouts and mate.
"And who else are you?" Dima turned round, in front of him stood a short man in a shabby kimono with a bow in his hands and a couple of rabbit carcasses on his belt.
"Fuck." All Dima said was.