The Mosaic

Chapter 31

Dedicated to  @wolfiegirl96 for their kind words and lovely encouragement! Thank you so much!

Alessandro scoffed, stepping into the yard. It wasn't training. It was Giacinto demonstrating he was superior in every way.

Giacinto was already there, boots kicking up dust at a series of quick paced steps around an invisible foe. It looked more like dancing than fighting.

Did that man sleep at all? Giacinto was either poring over mountains of tiny numbers at the very end of the long dinner table when all others had long retired. Or he staggered home with more grace than Alessandro could muster even when he was sober at ungodly hours. But he raced the sun to get up first in the morning. One more reason to not trust him. Who didn't want to turn around and fall back asleep at any time of the day? Clearly a maniac.

How was he supposed to improve when they always just had one match? Why were they even doing this? Alessandro dragged a hand over his face, stifling a yawn. He wasn't ready to get beaten again.

"If you're that bored, I'd expect you to be a bit better than ... bad."  Giacinto turned, the dancer vanishing as he sheathed his daggers.

"I'm tired. It's early," Alessandro sighed.

"Boohoo, go cry to mama. Maybe you can tell the assassins to only appear in an approved time frame? Just ask nicely, I'm sure they'd love to cater to a spoiled brat's every whim."

"You're in a bad mood," Alessandro said. When wasn't he? Whatever had been between them when they chased murderers through dark alleys and fought back to back for their freedom in prison had vanished. He should be glad. They'd only fight.

"Seeing your face first thing in the morning? Tends to do that."

Alessandro shook his head, drawing his sword. "Save your breath."

"Please, I could hold a service fighting you," Giacinto snorted.

Alessandro couldn't decide which was the worse tactic (fighting Giacinto had no good aspects) -- attacking first, or giving him the first move. He'd either run right into a knife or have it thrown at him. He went with attacking first, maybe the Greek would just stop talking. His sword thrust forward -- but Giacinto was already gone.

The Greek had leant backwards like an exotic dancer, the blade cutting the air above him. He sprung back upright like hadn't just bent in half. He twirled past the blade, spinning around his own axis, into close range. His knife came up, shooting towards Alessandro, he could see the smirk pulling at Giacinto's lips -- and then it was ripped from his hand.

The smirk vanished. Alessandro had used a dagger. All these past days, Giacinto had used the supposed advantage of the longer reach of Alessandro's sword against him. If he was close enough, it was useless.  And he always got past Alessandro's defences.

This time, Alessandro had awaited him. He had remembered his time as a duelist, it wasn't uncommen to use a dagger in the free hand as backup to block attacks. Giacinto was far too quick for Alessandro to land a hit, twisting away and out of reach, but the inspector saw how he turned serious.

A satisfied spark bubbled in his chest. And to his surprise, he saw the same satisfaction in the other's curt nod.

Giacinto loved to play. He jumped closer again, slashed, jumped back. Danced around Alessandro. Alessandro thrust the sword towards him. Giacinto caught it with his knife. Sent his other knife towards Alessandro. The inspector in turn caught it with the guard of his dagger. Giacinto laughed.

A sweep of his sword, swung in a circle. Giacinto dropped into a crouch, the blade hissing above him. One leg stretched out, he spun on the other. Alessandro had to jump over it to not be swept off his feet.