by Cory Huff
Aidan nodded. “Show me.”
“The fist is the leading element of the attack, but what sets you up for the killing blow is your feet. Generally speaking, every time you jab, you take a step forward, keeping your balance under you. Hit my hand with a jab and step forward while you do it.”
Aidan jabbed and stepped.
“Good. Now do that twice.”
Aidan jabbed, stepped, jabbed, stepped.
“Good. Now do it three times.”
Aidan did.
“See how you are leaning forward on the final step? An experienced warrior would get you leaning forward like that, and then they would counter-attack. You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself and you would die.”
Aidan paused. He nodded. “I ‘tink I get et. Lemme try ‘gain.”
He did, and he did it right. Strom nodded to himself.
“Great. The third element you need is good breathing. You’re holding your breath while you move forward, probably because you’re concentrating. If you do that while you’re fighting, you’ll get winded and you’ll be tired and you’ll die. Try jabbing and stepping and breathing. Breath in on the step and out on the jab. The sharp breath you put out will tighten your stomach muscles and make your jab harder as well.”
Aidan tried it. Jab, breath out, step, breath in. It was starting to feel a little bit like dancing. He tried it a few more times. When he saw Strom grinning, he knew he was getting it and he did a little dance.
“Don’t get cocky kid. I want you to drill this 20 times on each side. Jab, jab, jab. Step and breathe. Do that 20 times on each side, right and left.”
Aidan smoothed out his grin and got to work. The other soldiers were doing more complex drills, he saw. He saw jab, jab, jab, hook. He saw uppercuts. Kicks. Grappling maneuvers combined with punches and kicks. He realized he had a lot to learn about the basics. It seemed a bit overwhelming. How was he ever going to get to weapons training if he had to master all of this?
“Aidan! Don’t watch. Practice.”
Aidan jabbed, stepped, and breathed.
Aidan followed the other young recruits to religion class. He didn’t really have any idea what to expect. He hadn’t been to school in a while. Scrounging for food on the streets didn’t leave much time for school, and eventually he had given up going altogether. He was pretty sure his brother still went.
The boys and girls were all heading into a large classroom, full of rows of tables and benches. He saw a different group of novitiates that he didn’t recognize, dressed in robes. They were younger than the soldier recruits. They filed into another room. “‘ey, who ‘er them?” he asked the dark skinned, dark haired girl who was walking next to him.
“You’re the new guy?”
Aidan nodded, “aye.”
“Those are the priest recruits. The church is recruiting people to become new priests and they start even younger than the soldiers. They begin with religious instruction at 12 years old. We don’t really interact with them a lot. I’m Emaile, by the way.” Emaile smiled and stuck out her hand. She was not that tall, but had the muscles of someone who had been training for a while. Aidan shook her hand. She also had the callouses of someone who had been training with a sword.
“Hiya Emaile, I’m Aidan. I don’ really know what I’m doin ‘ere. Can I sit witcha?”
“Sure,” she said, smiling. “I saw you take a beating from Strom. You’re pretty tough. Footwork looked good for a newbie. You had fight training before?”
They sat down with all of other soldier students. Aidan caught some of them eyeing him and talking to each other. He was the new guy in school, so he supposed it made sense. “No. Just defending meself and me brother. I’ve been in some fights.”
Emaile eyed him appraisingly. “I haven’t seen you at church services. Have you been attending outside the Temple grounds?”
Aidan wasn’t sure how to tell Emaile that he’d never been to a Church of the Creator service. Suddenly it all seemed very weird to him. Why was he in a religion class? Why was he training with the church’s soldiers? Why was the church even in Atania?
At that moment a man walked in and stood at the front of the classroom. Wispy haired and thin, he had an air of happy authority, looking around at the students, waiting for them to be quiet, a smile on his face. One by one the Squires noticed the teacher was there and began to sit down and stop with their joking and gossiping.
“Hello everyone.” The teacher had a strong, gentle voice. “Welcome. I see everyone is talking about our new student. Welcome, Aidan. I’m Brother Fenn. I hope you enjoy class.”
“Do we have a volunteer for an opening prayer?” Brother Fenn asked the room. A thick set trainee near the front of the room raised his hand and stood.
“Thank you Thomas. Please proceed.”
Thomas folded his arms and bowed his head. Everyone else in the room followed. Aidan belatedly copied. Thomas spoke, “Oh, Creator in Heaven, we thank thee for this day. We thank thee for the Church and the Knighthood that we all strive for. We thank thee for sending us Prophet Aemon Ban, for his wisdom and his teachings. We pray, Creator, for our new fellow recruit, Aidan, that he will feel welcome as a brother. In your name we pray, Amen.”
There was an echo of amens from the students. Aidan muttered amen under his breath just after them. That was very kind of Thomas, he thought.
Next, Brother Fenn asked, “Who has the devotional today?”
A red haired female recruit stood up. She was, like most of the others, fit, and tall. Aidan guessed she was older than him, perhaps eighteen years old. He thought he had seen her wielding a sword in practice, so apparently significantly further along than him.
“Ah, Amber. Please proceed.”
Amber walked to the front of the room. She looked slightly nervous. She cleared her throat. “The Creator says that we should help others. With all of the … uh … Happenings going on, a lot of people are really scared. I know some people say that nothing is actually happening, but people are upset anyway. So…” she sighed a big sigh, “Thomas and I, along with a few other recruits, decided to start patrolling the neighborhoods near the Temple grounds. We wear our recruit uniforms and weapons.”
Brother Fenn’s eyebrows raised. Amber hastened to add, “but we haven’t done any fighting. We just talked to people. And its been so interesting. As we’ve talked to everyone, just really listened. There are so many people who are scared. So many people who just want someone to listen to them. And the really, uh, gratifying part is that some of those people have even asked us to come around more often, and I saw a couple of them at services last Sabbath. So, yeah, helping others helps the Creator. Amen.”
Another chorus of amens from the class. Aidan wondered how he could get some of those patrols in his own neighborhood. Maybe he could start them himself? He’d have to talk to Amber. After class.
“Thank you Amber,” Brother Fenn said. He gestured to the thick tomes on the tables. “Today we continue studying the Beatitudes of the Creator. Please turn to page 56 in your scriptures. Chapter 5, verses 2 - 3. Emaile, will you please read for us?”
There was a flurry of pages turning. Aidan had never seen so many books in one place. How had he ended up here?
Emaile read out in a clear voice, “Be not weary in well-doing. Ye must be anxiously engaged in a good cause, lest the world fall to sloth and ruin. For the Creator did not create this world for the purpose of ruin. In the Light we have peace, even though in the Shadow we are forced to strive.”
“Thank you Emaile. What is the Prophet Aemon Ban teaching us here?” Brother Fenn appeared to be asking the rest of the class.
There was a long silence. Nobody appeared to have anything to add. Brother Fenn smiled, “Nobody? Angus, what do you think?”
Angus was a square jawed, dark haired boy around Aidan’s own age sitting on the right side of the room, a row from the back. He didn’t appear pleased to be called on to answer. He was slumping in his seat. “I don’t kno
w. Why are we studying this? Aren’t we all going to be soldiers?”
Aidan’s paid close attention. He had wondered why this was a condition of his soldier training.
Brother Fenn smiled again. “Great question Angus. Can anyone answer? Why, if all you’re going to do is swing swords, should soldiers learn the scriptures? Why don’t we leave it to the young priests across the hall?”
Amber spoke up, “Well, I don’t know exactly what is being taught either, but I do know that when we went around talking to our neighbors, our swords weren’t used at all, but everyone felt better just talking about their problems. They also liked it when we shared scriptures with them, and when we reassured them that the Creator was looking after them.”
Angus grimaced, “Yes, but the priests could do that. You could take the priests with you on your neighborhood walks. Think about how much better prepared to fight we could be if we didn’t spend so much time sitting in this classroom.”
Thomas spoke up. “Some of us want to do more than swing swords though Angus. Some of us are going to be leaders, and teachers. If all you know how to do is swing a sword, you won’t be a good teacher, and even if all you want to do is be a soldier, at some point you’ll be too old to swing a sword. What will you do then?”
Angus grinned, “Well, you needn’t worry about it Thomas. Odds are you’ll die before you’re too old because you spend too much time reading the scriptures and not enough time training with your sword.”
Aiden heard a couple of people gasp. The classroom became really quiet.
Thomas’ face turned very sad. “If I die, Angus, it will be doing the will the Creator. That’s the point of the scripture. If we die, it will not be to let the world fall into ruin. If we die, we will at least be anxiously engaged in a good cause. We learn the scriptures so that we know what we’re fighting for, and why.”
Aidan sensed that this was an argument that the students had gone over previously. There was a sense of resignation in Thomas’ voice.
Brother Fenn stepped in, “Angus, there’s no need to be rude. None of us know the Creator’s will. You and Thomas are both doing very well in your studies. An arrow to the neck will kill any soldier, no matter how good their sword arm. And failing to understand your enemy will render all of your plans useless. Thomas is correct in that studying the scriptures will help us better understand humanity, both our allies and our enemies.”
The class continued with more readings. The ensuing discussions were much less exciting. Thomas and Angus assiduously avoided speaking to each other, or even making eye contact. At one point, he noticed Angus laughing with his seat neighbor. They glanced at Thomas and quietly chuckled again. There was something going on between Angus and Thomas. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew a power struggle when he saw it.
After class, as everyone filed out, Aidan turned to Email, “What is the deal between Angus and Thomas?”
Emaile spoke quietly, “Thomas joined the knighthood because he felt called by the Creator to do so. Angus has a much more casual attitude about the church and…well, everything, really. Except swordplay. Angus was a quick study, and he’s the best in the class. He’s really, really good. And because he’s so good, he gets a lot of praise from the teachers and from some of the other students. I can’t say for sure, but I think that Thomas is angry about that attention.”
Aidan looked at the crowd. Angus had a big group of peers around him, laughing and joking as they headed off for the day. Thomas had a group as well, but it was smaller and quieter. He saw Thomas shoot a look at Angus. Angus caught it. It was brief, but both of them nodded. It wasn’t friendly.
Aidan suddenly realized that he’d left the food he was saving for his brother in the classroom. He turned around and jogged back.
Brother Fenn was still in the room, writing. He looked up when Aidan walked in. Aidan hurried to his seat and saw the folded cloth that he used to cover the food. He grabbed the small parcel. He smiled at Brother Fenn as he turned and hurried out.
Brother Fenn watched Aidan hurry out with the leftover food. He paused for a long moment, thoughtful.
Nia woke up. Her cheek was resting on the green grass. The golden light was soft. Was the sun coming up? Where were the wolves? She lifted her head and immediately regretted it. The world spun, and everything went dark.
Time passed.
Nia woke up. Her cheek was resting on the green grass. She remembered not to sit up. The wolves must be gone, because they weren’t eating her. What happened?
Without moving the rest of her body, she searched with her eyes. Looking up, across the ground, she saw the grassy green lawn behind the greenery. As her eyes scanned across the grass she saw her arm. The one that had been savaged by the wolves. Her vision blurred as tears came to her eyes. They were tears of fear. Her arms was horrendously savaged. She could see white bone. A big pink piece of her flesh was hanging off of the arm. She recognized bite marks.
The brain does funny things when people are in danger. Pain can be ignored. But the danger was over. The pain kicked in. Nia gasped with the immensity of it. She retched from the violence of the pain. She was immediately dizzy from the movement. The ground was now above her, tilting dangerously. The world went dark again.
Time passed.
Nia woke up. Her back was on the grass. She looked into the cerulean sky. How was she still alive? She wasn’t sure she wanted to be. She remembered her arm and whimpered softly. It was mid-morning, judging by the burning yellow sun’s position in the sky. She cried. Softly at first, with only the faintest whimper. She missed her mother. She missed her father. She missed her friends. She missed Aidan. Would he come find her tonight if she wasn’t at her camp? Her crying slowly intensified into a full out sob, which turned into a cough as the pain kicked in again. She managed to keep from vomiting by clamping down her teeth and screaming through her closed mouth.
Would she live long enough to make it back to her camp?
After a long while of laying there, sick and dizzy from pain, Nia calmed down.
“You’re on your own Nia. No one is coming to save you. You’ve survived the death of your entire family. You’re not going to die now. If you were going to bleed to death it would have already happened,” thought Nia.
She had to see how bad the damage really was, and she had to get it washed out. She was next to a pond. She steeled her will and quickly sat up. She momentarily registered the white hot pain exploding up her arm and into her body before the world went dark again.
Time passed.
Nia woke up. She was staring into the cerulean sky again, an angry yellow orb was beating her with its rays of light. She got angry at herself.
“You are NOT going to die here Nia! You are NOT going to die from a wolf bite. You are going to get up and clean your wound. Then you will figure out what’s next.” She spoke all of this out loud in a voice that was a little bit short of the firmness that she meant it to have.
Without further thought, she sat up. Her head swam. Her vision narrowed to just a pinpoint. She growled through the pain and took a deep breath. The pinpoint grew larger. She took another breath and her vision widened, though it remained a little blurry and unsteady.
When her eyes finally cleared, with her head still pounding, she looked at her arm. It was caked with dirt from crawling under the thorny shrubs and falling on the ground. It looked like the blood had mixed with the dirt and dried over the worst part of her arm wound. Maybe that was how she had not bled to death. The bone stuck out from the mud in stark white contrast. When she saw the bone she got a little dizzy again, but growled it away. She was in serious trouble.
Nia looked around. The rock pile, or was it a tower? An altar? Whatever it was, it was covered with her blood on top and it had dripped down the side. It was a grizzly sight. She remembered calling out before she passed out. She’d called out to Gaoth, like her mother. She had lived. “Thank you Gaoth,” Nia whispered.
She would wash her arm and
see how bad it really was. Perhaps it was just the broken arm, and the bleeding was really done. Slowly, painfully, she scooted and crawled her way toward the water. When she got to the edge of the pond, she leaned over and saw her reflection. She set her jaw in grim defiance. She looked horrific. Her hair askew, and her face covered in blood and mud. She reached down with her intact arm and raised a handful of water to her mouth to drink. The cool water felt good in her mouth and she took another handful.
Her third handful she slowly dribbled over her arm. Some of the mud came away, but Nia sucked in her breath. Even the gentle drip of the water sent waves of pain radiating out. She would not cry.
She would NOT cry.
Much.
Maybe a little.
Nia cried as she washed her damaged arm. She cried as she saw how the wolf had savaged her skin, how the mud had seeped into her cuts. She wasn’t sure what to do, so she submerged her arm in the water. The cool pond was painfully cold to the exposed flesh.
She thought of the name of the spirit of water. “So help me Uisce, if I live through this and get my arm healed, I will make sure everyone knows you and your sister Gaoth helped me.”
As she sat in the water, slowly swishing her arm around, the mud came out. She lifted her arm out of the water. She could see some blood starting to seep out, but it didn’t look like any of her arteries were cut.
She needed something to cover this wound. Her shirt would do. But how would she get it off? She lifted her shirt up and clumsily, painfully extricated her right arm from the shirt, then her head, and pulled it down her left arm. She decided to leave it on the arm, and wrap the shirt around her wound. It was excruciating. She would have to find someone to help her set the arm.
She was bare chested, sitting in the water, with a broken arm. She didn’t have a mother or father. She had alienated everyone who had ever tried to help her. Except Aidan. But he was off learning how to fight with a sword. She had no one.
