Free Brotherhood of the Strange (Kingship, Tales from the Aether Book 1) by Michael Richie, Grant Wilson

walking stick.
    “Stand down, Brother!” Degory exclaimed, leveling the point of his narrow sword in Edward’s direction.
    Without delay, Edward shifted his focus from his daughter to his estranged sibling. He dashed to the entrance of the room where he had left his walking stick, nearly identical to Degory’s and drew his own blade. Cordelia stepped back, behind the sofa, a mixture of fear, confusion, and rage vying for dominance on her reddened face. The two Priests circled each other, Edward taking up a defensive position near a window. He glanced outside for a brief second. Degory shifted the sword from his mechanical right hand to his left. A lifetime of fencing had imbued him with the instinct to draw with his right, but the jerky movements of the arm were unable to match the mental swordsmanship of its owner.
    “Do you really believe you have a chance against me left handed, brother?” Edward asked pointedly. “I have no desire to cause you harm, that’s why I’m here.”
    Degory snorted, “You have no desire to cause me harm, yet you would turn me over to the Hand of Paris without any reservation. I find your concern touching.”
    “It’s not that simple. How far do you think you can run before they will find you? I have work that needs doing and you will be of tremendous assistance. Getting Maxfield and Pandora’s Box back are of supreme importance to the us. You are the key to finding them.”
    “I told you,” Degory began as he inched closer toward his opponent, “I have no idea where or when the Temporal Accelerator will reappear.” He took a quick slice at Edward, who deftly parried it.
    “I wish I could believe that. You have aroused suspicion with very powerful people. My influence could protect you, if you cooperate.”
    “You really believe you matter to these madmen?” Degory demanded. “You are a pawn in something of which you cannot see the truth or magnitude. I’ve only seen a fraction of what they are up to and, quite frankly, I don’t understand the half of it. However, this is not what the Brotherhood is meant for. We’re here to guide and protect civilization, not rule them!”
    Edward stiffened, obviously offended. “I will tell you one last time Brother, for your safety, come with me.”
    Though the situation was deadly serious, Degory could not help but bait his brother. “Edward, you should know, even left handed, I’ve always been better than you.”
    The duel commenced. Each combatant thrusting, slashing, and parrying as one tried to best the other. What Degory had said was indeed true, he was a better swordsman than Edward, as he had always been from the time their father had enrolled them in a fencing school at the ages of twelve and ten. Edward was always frustrated at being bested consistently by his younger sibling. It was something Degory could now use to his advantage. In truth, it was more difficult using his left hand and he had to use his brass arm to block an incoming thrust. Steel rang on steel for a full minute that ended with Edward bleeding from a minor slash in his arm. Before the duel could proceed any further, several burly men burst into the room carrying the smell of the sea and the burly look of dock-workers. Cordelia screamed as one of them, a beady eyed man with a tattered bowler hat, held a plasmatic pistol to her head.
    “Stop!” exclaimed Edward. “Degory, please, do not make me hurt my daughter.”
    Though he had clearly lost all perspective regarding to whom he had his allegiance, the plea regarding Cordelia seemed genuine. Even had it not been, he had endangered the niece he loved as his own daughter far too much already this evening. Without a second thought Degory dropped his weapon, it gave a dull ring as it hit the carpeted floor. Two of the burly thugs held him fast, searching him for other weapons. Edward sheathed his sword in his own cane and the man with the bowler hat lowered his pistol. Degory observed the pistol was far too