by Thomas Adams
“No Wulfgar, we must keep the number of people that know about this as small as possible. For now at least. We already have unwanted eyes and ears about. We canna afford more. Tell only those you absolutely trust.” he nodded towards Fridya. “No Seeker for now. Maybe in time though.”
***
Kyrr hurried through the dark hallway towards the storeroom. It was a strange request. She’d never done this before. What ever could she want and why couldn’t it wait until morning? When he came back from his work at the forge he’d found a note for him from Fridya on his cot. It said to meet her right at the sleeping hour at the storeroom in the small hall by the stables.
He was sure it was just more girlish silliness. That seemed to be the main reason Fridya wanted to talk to him. She was always asking him about things he didn’t remember. And, she wanted to know as soon as he remembered anything about his past. Her constant questioning and poking annoyed him. It was the one trait of her personality he didn’t like.
As he walked along the hallway he felt a strange foreboding of danger. As he passed a darkened doorway a figure leapt out and tackled him. Kyrr was caught off guard and barely managed to block most of the flurry of punches aimed at his head. One of the blows hit him pretty good because he immediately felt a wave of pain and his vision darkened. He felt warm blood flowing down his chin from his lip.
It was Bera again. The stupid big fat oaf set him up with a fake note and ambushed him. He fought back and eventually pushed Bera off him. Bera was grinning manically and rushed in for another round but Kyrr used his wits and speed and stepped to the side as Bera hurtled towards him. He pushed hard and Bera slammed into the stone wall. That slowed Bera down a bit. Kyrr felt darkness settle across his mind; his anger grew and threatened to wash everything else away. The rage was powerful, strong like a mighty river current and it rushed through his mind and body. Yet, it was also comforting and soothing.
This was new but what was it? It could not be good. He fought to control it. The darkness pushed him to step in and do more, serious damage. Make Bera feel unbearable pain and anguish. His hand slid to his knife.
Bera stepped back groggily and reassessed the situation. Bera had lost the edge. The element of surprise was gone and Kyrr was recovering. Bera turned and retreated back up the hall. He was ever the coward Kyrr thought. He let Bera go. He was in no shape nor did he have the inclination now to pursue him.
Kyrr sniffled. His nose was bleeding as well. It may be broken again. He sighed and put his hands against the wall. He leaned his head back to stop his nose from bleeding. He breathed deep and tried to calm himself. The darkness and anger faded. He checked himself out more thoroughly and found what was going to be a black eye and a bruised shoulder as well as another broken nose. Bera was an ass. He was always doing this kind of thing. Why Bera did things like this baffled Kyrr.
Kyrr decided his injures would need the assistance of a healer so he turned and headed towards their hall. As he walked he pulled the wallet from his coarse tunic and held it in his hand. It helped to calm and reassure him. He felt like he belonged somewhere and someone loved him.
Here, his only friend was Fridya. Sometimes Kyrr wondered if they were friends or if Fridya was just trying to figure him out. Most of the others in the band now tolerated him to some degree. Mainly, because he was feared they left him alone. He beat them all the time out in the yard. A few, other Erlings like Bera and a couple of his close friends, still actively tormented him with verbal abuse and the occasional physical attack. But, these incidents were becoming less frequent. The physical damage he inflicted in return was becoming too much for the bullies.
The wallet always helped. Soon he was his old self again and his feelings of loneliness and despair left him. And, for a fleeting moment, he had a faint impression of a pretty dark haired girl smiling up at him with something wonderful in her eyes. Something that Kyrr felt was an awful lot like real friendship.
Chapter 7
The Third Year
What war has ever ended well for the dead?
Ortus, First General of Vesfalruk during the Troll Wars
***
Master Ivar walked over to the group and motioned for everyone to take a knee. Kyrr looked at Fridya by his side. They only had a brief moment to catch up before Ivar summoned them and started into the introduction session for the upcoming year. Ivar stood with Sword Master Randur as he surveyed the group, many were just back from their homes and families after the short summer break. Kyrr and those without the means to travel or families to visit had remained at Reave Hall. That meant extra practice sessions and additional chores for those that stayed.
“Welcome back Red Band. I hope you are all rested, fresh and ready to go. You are no longer beginner students. You are intermediates now, third year. From now on you will be known as Red Band. As some of you may know, all bands in the third year are assigned a color designation. You will learn each band’s designation. You will also compete against the intermediate and senior bands from time to time.”
He spun and with blinding speed drew his bastard sword and engaged Master Randur. They executed a complex series of expert forms. Their back and forth was a flawless rendition of several parts of the Runa. The group watched in awe. They had never seen any Master move so quickly and with such terrible precision and skill. They stopped and neither was even winded.
“That is but a small example of a Master’s ability with a sword. You have much to learn. For the last two years you learned the basics. You learned the importance of a good foundation and balance. You learned many forms and techniques. The key, of course, is your stance. Everything else comes from this. If your stance is poor your attack will be weak and fail, your defense will falter and your conditioning will not matter. You will be dead.
“You have all learned the basic sword and axe forms. You practiced and performed the high and low guards, side guards, slashing and thrusting attacks and various transitions between all of these forms. You can now mesh all of these into a seamless set of moves. If you did not master the stance and the basic forms you would not be here today. This is the foundation of the Runa of Syndros. Without a strong solid foundation you will not become a Master.
“This year we move on to more advanced material and many more forms. But, you must constantly maintain your foundation as you learn the new forms and techniques. That is very important. Many don’t do this and they suffer going forward.
“This year we will also begin to learn a specific series of attacks. We will emphasize attacks to the torso, head, legs and shoulders. You will learn the difference in maiming and killing attacks and their uses. You will become adept at the art of the glancing attack, with feints and counters. You will learn attacks for the hands, eyes and feet.
“We will also introduce more complex transitions and forms and techniques to switch from attack to defense and defense to attack seamlessly and quickly. Forms will be introduced that show how to gain position and maneuver your foe as you desire, how to unbalance your opponent, and forms to disrupt your opponent’s rhythm and their methodology.
“And, we will introduce the element of pugilist support, using your hands, fist, knees, head and elbows in the attack and defense to stun, disarm or harry your foe. But, we never use our feet. Why?” Master Ivar waited but no one replied. “Balance, that why, it is key. If your feet are flying about your balance will be off and your stance weak. You will easily be outmaneuvered and then you have lost the initiative. A weak stance is easily overcome by a skilled enemy.
“You will also learn to fight with shield and spear, with sword and dagger and sword and hand axe. Basic small unit tactics, the wedge, the shield wall, the square and the diamond will be introduced. You will master all of these formations by the end of this year.”
“In your ‘spare’ time,” he chuckled at this, “You will learn how to ride a horse and fire a bow from horseback just like the Osterider cavalry. All in all you will have a very busy year. Make n
o mistake; it does not get easier going forward. The opposite for sure, it only gets harder.
“Last but not least and this is critical, we will begin to break down those habits of complacency and repetition you may have built up. This is the second tenet of the Runa. The first being stance and balance of course. You must never grow lazy in the sequence and methodology of your forms. That is the way of defeat or even death.
“If you start to use the same series of forms over and over it will become a pattern and you will not even realize it. You must memorize and master the forms but not attach any sequence to their utilization. We will closely watch each of you for these patterns to develop and help you break them down as much as possible. Your methodology must be as random and unpredictable as possible. That is the key to seizing and maintaining the initiative in a fight, and initiative and surprise are half the battle and that is the third tenant of the Runa. You will understand as these things start to tie into one another.”
With those final words Ivar’s speech was over and the students paired up and went to work. The two Sword Masters walked among the rows of students and corrected them as needed. There was no rest or respite at Reave Hall. There was too much to learn and too little time.
***
It did not take long for the Masters to start in with the new training regime. The schedule was rigorous. The days were long and filled with shouts, oaths and cuffs from the Masters. Violence was the norm and aching muscles and sore joints the coin of their learning. The training was realistic and dangerous. The healers were kept busy around the clock at Castle Reave. No one was exempt from the occasional bruise, cut or sprain. Every student came to know the healers very well.
The schedule was never the same but typically, they were up before dawn and required to clean their barracks and themselves. Then they were out in the practice yard doing exercises, strength training drills or running laps from the High Fort to the Low Fort.
Two hours after dawn they broke their fast and then went back into the yard for a few hours of forms and sparring. From late morning through lunch they completed class work and instruction on a wide variety of topics and then spent the afternoon practicing the new skills and doing more advanced drills. For the third year this meant training in group fighting formations, team skills and tactics. Sometimes they were put up against another intermediate or senior band. There were also intra-band competitions. By the supper hour everyone was exhausted. But, the Masters usually had a surprise or two for them after the meal. It was usually past the sleeping hour when everyone collapsed into their cots and slept the sleep of the utterly exhausted.
Kyrr and Fridya were still at the top of their band when it came to sword and axe skill and most other subjects. But, that didn’t stop the others from trying to unseat them or from the Masters from sending two, three or even four opponents at a time against them. Sometimes the Master running a training session would even bring in older students and pit them against Fridya or Kyrr or other students in their band. The Masters were fairly ruthless in ensuring the students fought in every imaginable situation or scenario and with varied opponents.
And, they could never get complacent with the styles and techniques of their own band’s people. The circumstances were never set and surprises were common. They were training for war and war was never static. The training ensured they could operate, adapt and overcome in the most demanding and exhausting of circumstances.
This year they were all excused from the normal support chores and tasks they performed during the first years. There were no more kitchen chores, cleaning tasks or maintenance work. All but those students working with the smiths, they continued their dual track studies and tasks. Kyrr was still required to put in two or three additional hours almost every day with Master Smith Birger.
***
Yfiria was visiting her parents and family in Helvig, the capital city of Radnja. Aravin had allowed her to return for a lengthy visit. She had begged and cajoled and he had finally relented. She had so looked forward to this visit. Normally, she enjoyed being at home and at court but it was different this time. Much of the fun and excitement she used to attribute to court life was missing. She wondered why she thought more about Talfur now and less about court and her life in Radnja.
“Yfiria, pay attention please.” her mother, Princess Helena Hestvain, said in a gentle voice, “Whatever are you day dreaming about?”
Her mother was always patient and never flustered. She never raised her voice. She epitomized how a royal princess comported oneself. Since she’d come back Yfiria had spent a lot of time with her mother. Aravin was adamant that she do so. She knew now why, her mother was a soothing calming influence to her tattered nerves and aching heart.
Even so, she kept trying to find a way to bring up Brandt and what was bothering her, to her mother. She had questions about her feelings towards the boy. But, she didn’t want to bring his name up specifically, at least not yet.
It was hopeless though. Every time she figured out a way to broach the subject with her mother she got cold feet and backed off. How could she discuss her feelings and her fears with her mother? It was not easy.
“Yfiria, please, by the Gods you are not yourself this visit. Your attention wanders. Whatever is the matter? Aravin said you were having a hard time lately.”
Yfiria sighed deeply and figured there was no time like the present. She should just get it all out into the open, “Mother, how do you know if you love someone?” she asked tentatively.
For an instant her mother’s eyes widened ever so slightly and then she smiled kindly at her, “Daughter, is it a boy who has you all tied into knots these days? What is his name?”
Yfiria frowned. She wanted to keep this general and not bring up a specific person. It appeared her mother would not play along. How could she keep the discussion going without mentioning Brandt? Why was she so hesitant to tell her mother about her feelings for him? She could not answer those questions.
Her mother must have guessed who was on her mind because she asked, “It is Brandt isn’t it? He is the one we are talking about?”
Yfiria was surprised. How would her mother know that?
“Well, don’t look so shocked. I am a woman and mother and can easily figure things like this out. And, the last time you visited you could not stand him. Ever since you were small, when you came back for a visit, for the entire first sennight you would do nothing but talk about how horrible he was.”
It was no use. Yfiria nodded her head.
“This visit, come to think of it, I don’t recall any complaints about Brandt since you have returned. Not one peep about the young man. That is very telling and I should have noticed it.”
“You should have but we have been busy.” Yfiria replied dejectedly.
“Aye, but not that busy. So, now you think you have feelings for him, something other than scorn and displeasure?”
Yfiria sighed and said, “I don’t know mother. I am so hurt and confused now. All this while, since he left, I have been unable to see him and I can’t stop thinking about him. I miss his silliness, the way his hair always curls into his eyes and I dream about him now and have visions about him. I want it all too just stop!”
Her mother looked shocked when she’d said she dreamed about Brandt. She said, “Normal dreams Yfiria or seerings?”
Yfiria felt a tear slide down her cheek. She redoubled her efforts at composure. “Both mother, both.”
Her mother just nodded and sat in silence a moment. She then said, “Yfiria you are still very young, likely too young to know your true mind. Understanding love, as it exists between a man and woman, is one of the great mysteries of life. Few really understand it.
“And, your feelings may indicate you like him as a close friend and you just miss him. You are long time childhood companions. It is normal Yfiria, unless there is there more to this? Has something else happened?”
The last Yfiria wanted to mention was that Brandt kissed her an
d made promises to her so she decided to talk about the dancing. That was what really started her wondering and thinking about what might be, “There are several things that have me confused. I was teaching him a new dance, the one father hates so much.”
Her mother rolled her eyes. Yfiria grinned and continued, “Well” she colored slightly, “when he put his hands on me all these things started happening. It was like I was another person and I felt so different and so alive. Until then I never imagined him as anything but a pesky boy. Just like all the others.”
Her mother nodded knowingly and said, “You have danced with many boys Yfiria. This has never happened afore?”
“No, nothing like this! I was so, well so excited and so, well I don’t know how to explain it.”
“I know. Don’t worry daughter. It happens and it is very normal."
She was still very confused and she decided she had to discuss it with someone. Why not her mother? She may be able to help her. She said calmly, “There is something else mother. Ere he left Talfur to return to Vesfalruk, he kissed me, on the mouth.”
He mother chuckled kindly and nodded, “How interesting. The two of you are a bit young for kissing. But, spending that much time in the Shadow Lands is different than here, it is distorted and unusual I guess since time is warped. Anyhow, the kiss, how did you feel about him kissing you? It is a serious thing, a kiss. You know what I have always said about kissing!”
“Oh, I don’t know!” Yfiria groaned. “I think, since then, I see him in an entirely new light; perchance as something more and not just as another stupid annoying boy. His kiss was something else. It was very, well, I don’t know how to describe it. It was very moving and very emotional.”
Yfiria was clearly uncomfortable talking about this with her mother. And, her mother’s direct but kind stare was a little unnerving. She was flustered and flounced in the chair once or twice until her mother’s gaze focused her and calmed her again. She smoothed the skirts of her dress and took a deep breath.
