"Give him the stick," Camara Tal said confidently. "I've never seen a piece of wood defeat a sword. That's why we gave up on spears in close fighting a long time ago."
"Then your people have a very narrow view of combat," Allia snorted. "No weapon is greater than any other. It is the skill of the hand wielding that weapon that will give it greatness. In the proper hands, a spear is a deadly weapon."
Tarrin threw down the sword willingly and caught his precious staff when Allia lobbed it to him. He took one step back and settled into an end-grip, holding the staff almost like a sword, settling his feet into the deck as the feel of the staff in his hands caused his confidence to soar. Allia was right. He had fought against swordwielders for a very long time, and his staff gave him all the advantages he needed to stuff that sword down Camara Tal's throat.
The Amazon waded right in, not even bothering to size up his new weapon. She had seen him use it before, and probably thought that that was how he used the weapon all the time. He had used it that way because the men he was fighting didn't force him to raise his skills up to their full potential. Simple "bashing" was all that was necessary to beat the pirates. Tarrin deflected several quick jabs and slashes, then twisted inside the arc of another slash, which turned out to be a feint. That close, she brought the sword back and adjusted to stab at him, getting inside the arc of his own staff, but he simply shifted to the center-grip and parried the thrust, turned his side to her, and cracked the other end of the staff against her knee. She staggered to the side, and was helped along when he put the sole of his boot in her belly. He whipped the staff around and let go with one hand, holding that hand out towards her as she staggered back, putting his staff behind him and sideways. She stopped moving backwards and reached down to rub at her knee, glaring at him a bit as he pulled his staff into a center-grip and brandished it at her.
She was much more tentative the second time, but that didn't last long. It was her that was rocked back on her heels as Tarrin unleashed the true fury of a center held staff on the Amazon, the two ends of the staff coming at her from every conceivable angle, the middle butting against her and deflecting her weapon, every square inch of her body in danger from the whirling staff's ends. Feet and ankles began to move quickly as Tarrin attacked them just as often as he went for her head, sides, and torso, forcing her to protect her entire body from attack that could materialize out of thin air and strike faster than a coiled snake. Every attack, move, feint, or parry seemed to fuel Tarrin's resolve, and it also increased his displeasure with Camara Tal. That displeasure evolved into anger as he systematically destroyed her defenses, forced her to back away from him to get enough space to regroup herself, which he did not permit her. Think he was an untrained lackey? He'd show her! He was more than capable of beating her down with his staff, and he was going to prove it to her! He waited until the Amazon tried to stab at him again, then he struck the weapon aside with one end of his staff, then instantly reversed his direction and hit the sword from the bottom, near the hilt, in a classic staff disarm. The double-jolt on the weapon from two directions, so closely together, was enough to shake it loose from her grip and send it lobbing over her head, to clatter to the deck behind her. Tarrin grounded his staff calmly, standing there and staring at her with not a little hostility.
"Keep bruising me, boy, and you're liable to make me mad," she taunted as she turned and picked up her sword. Tarrin was about to make a scathing reply, but Keritanima's sweet voice emanated from his amulet, instantly taking all of his attention.
Tarrin put the Amazon out of his mind and concentrated on Keritanima's information. She had reached Wikuna, and was preparing to deal with her father in the way that only she could. In a strange way, he felt sorry for her father. Keritanima was a wonderful woman, a sweet girl, and one of his closest, deepest friends, but even he had to admit that she could be quite petty at times, and had a vicious streak in her about as wide as the Sandshield Mountains. Damon Eram had really made her mad, and now she was going to go take care of him. He had little doubt that the King of Wikuna wouldn't survive that experience.
It would be strange addressing Keritanima as her Majesty, but he'd get used to it. With Damon Eram dead, the crown would fall to her. She probably hadn't thought that far ahead. He just hoped she'd be ready for it when it happened.
All that work to avoid taking the throne, and she'd back herself into it as a by-product of getting revenge on her father. Life was full of little ironies.
"Get your head out of the clouds, boy," Camara Tal said gruffly. "We're not done yet."
"Don't call me that," Tarrin said flatly. "And if you want to get beat up some more, that's alright with me."
"As I recall, you've only given back what I gave you, boy," she challenged. "Now shut up and get on with it, or are you too frightened to go on?"
Her taunting and words were starting to build on the anger he'd felt from before. He could feel it seething inside him, stirring the Cat, which was at its most subdued state when he was in human form. She had to be crazy! Why would she insult him? She knew that he didn't take that very well. Why she was doing it made no sense to him, but it was having a very immediate effect. Her status as a stranger rose up in his mind, and the sword she held in her hand stirred the Cat within him more and more as she brandished it at him. He glared at her viciously and raised his staff to a guard stance, which caused her to rush in.
It was much different. His anger, his seething, it distracted him from the forms and from the fight, and it robbed him of his concept of their fighting. He concentrated less and less on sparring with Camara Tal, and more and more on hurting her. What she probably felt was nothing but sparring had turned very real in his mind, and he wasn't just playing anymore. His distraction degraded his ability to press her, to do her harm, causing her to rise up with her sword and battle him to a standstill. "Oh, so it's not just for play anymore," Camara Tal hissed in his ear when he locked her sword against her shoulder and leaned in. "Want to bash my head in, do you? Well here it is, boy . But you're too blinded by your own anger to hit it, aren't you? Can't fight a whit now that you've lost your temper, can you?"
That was just too much. With a growl and an explosion of fury, Tarrin pushed her back and threw the staff aside, then changed form. Long, wickedly curved, sharp claws extended from their sheaths, and the Were-cat's glowing green eyes fixed on the Amazon and promised her ugly and brutal demise. Tarrin was pushed aside as the Cat joined with his mind, joined with his anger, and his temper was unleashed fully on the Amazon. He took a swipe at her head, which she quickly ducked under.
It was a good thing. Had he hit her, his claws would have ripped off half of her face. Tarrin had lost his temper, had gone into a rage, and it was brutally apparent to the stunned spectators that he meant to kill her. He tried to drive his claws into her chest, which she evaded, but she couldn't avoid the first paw coming back and ripping four bloody lines across her side and stomach as she twisted away from him. Spatters of blood sailed away from her abdmonen as his claws ripped through her skin and flesh, claws driven with such power that the four slashes were as neatly cut as if they were made by a razor. Claws that would have gutted her had she not twisted to present less belly to them as they came at her. He put so much into the blow that he had to recover himself, giving her a precious half-second to back up and grab hold of her amulet. She raised her amulet towards him and uttered a single word. " Eshok!" she called in a commanding voice, and some magical thing seemed to settle around him like a wet blanket. It tightened around him, hindering him, placing such a weight on him that not even his powerful legs could support it. It was like having a mountain put on his back. Every part of his body was coated with that magical weight, making his movements slow and erratic as he struggled against the magical effect.