"The most appropriate punishment for thieves is to remove that which they require for thieving," Sorian explained. He caressed the sharp edge of his axe with his gloved hand. Swords were for battle. Hatchets were better for more brutal, more intimate, encounters. He gave a low laugh. It had been quite some time since anyone had been foolish enough to attempt personal action against him. Today, luck had turned in his favor. His favorite weapon would finally get some use.
Rivek knelt in the snow. The only thing that separated him from his nemesis was the stump of an old pine tree, cleared long ago for the Heilmdoran to make permanent camp at the border. Too bad his mission didn't involve assassination. Then this closeness might have been more opportune. He spat at Sorian's word. A mixture of saliva and black blood landed at his feet.
Sorian grabbed Rivek's right elbow, slamming it to the surface of the former tree. The blow was so strong, Rivek's skin tore against the grain of the wood, leaving little spots of blood on the rings. Rivek flexed his fingers to make sure they still moved.
"So as you can see, the most fitting restitution for your crimes is your right hand." Sorian smiled politely as he ran the flat of the blade on the inside of Rivek's forearm, searching for the perfect position to cleave his victim's wrist joint. He lifted his axe into the air and grinned, baring his teeth.
"Money isn't a suitable payment for you, I take it?" Rivek prattled. Sorian's man-at-arms had his other arm pinned to his back, just inches away from his boot. The troops had been so eager to dole out punishment, they hadn't bothered to search him entirely. Worth a shot, but this would require a lot of speed.
Rivek tensed his shoulder and threw his entire weight into one downward reach toward his boot. The guard had only been concerned with pressing down to keep Rivek from lifting his arms, so the mage's hand slipped easily from his grasp. Rivek swiftly slid his hand forward along his shin until he found the handle of the blade. He drew it and grinned. In one smooth motion, he wrenched his body around, pivoting on the elbow Sorian still held. As he rolled onto his back, he delivered a cutting strike to the other soldier's face.
Free from the man's weight, he stood and threw off Sorian's arm. Rivek smiled, twirling the knife between his fingers, "Just my luck - I'm left-handed."
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