by D. L. Kramer
Hadn't Lord Bavol commented he had a swordsman's reflexes? To use them to their full ability, he would need to let his instincts tell him where and how to move. He would also need to watch every move Kile made. Opening his eyes, he did a quick scan of the yard, noting where the fence was, the apprentices, and most importantly, the sun and shadows.
There were quiet voices all around the training yard as Paki turned to face Kile. Kile handed his stiletto and cloak to Gharald then faced Paki with his longsword drawn.
Paki took a step to one side, keeping both hands on his sword for now. Unless Mo'ani had told him, Kile wouldn't know about his unorthodox fighting style except for what he had seen in the training yard.
Paki guessed Kile's sword was just over half the weight of his own, but Kile was strong and could do just as much damage. Kile's sword didn't have the reach Paki's did, but it could swing faster, and Kile could twist it into positions Paki couldn't.
They circled, each testing the other's position and speed. Paki kept his mind calm, letting all of Mo'ani's instructions control his movements. He wondered if, after all these years, Kile did the same.
It was only a moment later that Kile stepped toward an uneven spot in the ground. Paki seized the chance to attack. Their swords clanged together, resounding across the yard. Paki moved quickly, not giving Kile a chance to gain the offensive. Kile pushed their swords upwards until the hilts crashed together and he and Paki were facing each other. Paki met Kile's strength and was surprised at just how strong he was.
"Good eye," Kile complimented, "But did ye notice somethin'?"
Paki smiled and nodded. He knew exactly what Kile was referring to. "The uneven ground is between my feet," he said. "About four inches from my right foot." He pushed upwards and back, breaking his sword free from Kile's and moving to the side to even ground.
The next attack was Kile's and came immediately. Paki absorbed the blow with his sword, twisting around to clear Kile's sword. Kile tried forcing him back towards the fence, but Paki refused to let himself be closed in. As Mo'ani taught him, he kept his exact surroundings in the front of his mind and planned his moves around them.
Rather than let the sounds of the gathered apprentices watching the fight distract him, Paki also let those help him. He found they told him when he was getting too near the fence or some other obstacle that might cause a problem.
They traded offensive and defensive for several minutes before Kile pushed their swords upwards again.
"Don't hold back," he ordered. "Ye're not fightin' any differently than any fourth year apprentice."
"All right," Paki said. "But I wish you'd remember that I'm only a second year apprentice." His muscles strained as he pushed against Kile's sword and he felt sweat run down his back.
"Ye've got more skill than that," Kile finished. "Ye've been trainin' with Mo'ani for over a year now."
To break away this time, Paki pushed Kile backwards by locking his hands on the hilt of his sword, angling it toward Kile and pushing with his legs. He swung a heavy blow for Kile's shoulder, adding the weight of his sword to his strength. Not having his heavy armor to protect him, Kile sidestepped the swing and made his own attack for Paki's exposed stomach. Paki shifted his weight and brought his sword around in time to intercept the cut.
Disregarding Mo'ani's reprimands for his fighting habits, Paki managed to score several hard punches on Kile's ribs, stomach and arms before Kile could react.
Changing tactics, Kile quickened the pace, making it harder for Paki to keep his balance long enough to punch. Paki's occasional free hand was now used to push the sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes.
Paki switched to Mo'ani's tactics and made several feints before an actual swing. Kile anticipated each of them and retaliated with his own, proving that he did keep Mo'ani's teachings present in his thoughts as well.
As the minutes ticked by, Paki was grateful for his increased stamina. Still, it was only a matter of time before the weight of his sword would give Kile the advantage.
He managed to hold his ground through a flurry of cuts, when the sound of swords being drawn behind him distracted him for a split second. His heart jumped at facing two opponents, but he forced his nerves to settle. He didn't dare try to even glance at who might have drawn the weapons behind him.
Paki almost twisted clear of Kile's cut for his stomach, and was saved by his chain from any injury other than a bruise. The shadows fell to his back, denying even a silhouette of his second attacker. Not knowing who was behind him, he waited to feel a sword press against his back. Sudden desperation rose in him and he swallowed it back down. Now wasn't the time for mistakes.
Seeing an opening, he pulled his sword in and dropped to the ground, rolling to Kile's side. As he pushed his feet under him again, he saw Lady Corydon standing to one side, holding each of her swords down in front of her. Relief surged through him as he realized she only meant to distract him. Paki smiled and turned his full concentration back to Kile.
"How long have you been fighting with that blade?" she called.
"Right now or since I started training?" he called back. Paki jumped over Kile's swing for his legs. He brought his sword up for a strike at Kile's arm only to have it blocked. There was no distraction now, every practice with Mo'ani was just as much talk as fighting.
"Since you started," Sevanha clarified.
"Almost four years," Paki answered. He dodged to one side as Kile swung for his head, took a chance with his balance, and punched Kile's side as he moved past him. "Why?"
"Not bad," Lady Corydon nodded. She resheathed both of her swords. "He's very good, captain," she said to Kile.
"He doesn't exactly stick to the rules though, does 'e?" Kile responded, barely out of breath. He crashed his sword into Paki's, twisted, then drove an elbow into Paki's stomach with an incredibly hard upward push.
Paki gasped and dropped to the ground. Covered with sweat and exhausted, he rolled onto his back, his breath coming in short gasps and a deep aching pain spreading through his chest.
He closed his eyes as he tried to draw in a breath, resulting in a tired cough. The feel of Kile's sword against his throat made him open his eyes again.
"I don't think there's any doubt you won," he managed.
"Aye," Kile agreed. "But it's the tradition." Reaching over, he took Paki's arm and pulled him to his feet.
Paki planted the point of his sword in the ground and leaned on it. Finally able to draw an entire breath, he looked at Kile.
"I certainly hope that was 'a while'," he said. "Because otherwise I'm going to be completely useless in regular practice."
"Don't worry about it," Kile said. "Just don't completely quit movin', or ye won't be able to get up tomorrow."
"Now there's a tempting thought," Paki said, pulling his sword out of the ground. He pulled each side of it across his leg to wipe off any dirt before resheathing it. Sweat dripped into his eyes, and he paused to push his hair back. As he made his way to the gate, he became aware of the apprentices watching the fight. He met their eyes willingly, daring them to say something. Those sitting nearest the gate quickly moved out of his way. He caught the flash of a red cloak and looked up to see Aralt watching him. The young Mo'ani warrior's two fingered salute barely registered in Paki's tired mind. Since their brief encounter over two years ago, Aralt had kept his distance, though Paki often caught him watching his training sessions. When Aralt and Liyol were cloaked a few months before, Aralt's eyes met Paki's for a brief moment, and he nodded faintly to him. Paki had kept his word not to tell Mo'ani or Kile, and he knew Aralt was grateful.
As Paki made his way to his bunk, he heard Gharald's voice as he resumed training.
Leaving his things in his bunk, he washed and went to the stable to saddle Tyran. He paused by the gate guard's post to tell the Mo'ani there where he was going, then pulled himself into his saddle and rode out of the Stronghold.
Paki found the archers practicing by one of the sheer cliffs ma
rking the south side of the mountain range. Making sure to stay back a safe distance, he rode down the line, looking for Bear. When he finally found him, he dropped from Tyran's back and walked to sit beside his friend.
"What happened to you?" Bear asked, glancing at his friend before sending an arrow into the center of a target fifty yards in front of him. They were practicing with longbows, and Paki noticed several of the apprentices seemed to have a problem getting their arrows to fly the entire distance.
"The captain just got through proving he's better with a sword than I am," Paki said, rubbing one hand over the bruise on his stomach. The longer he sat, the more he decided he may not want to stand up again anytime soon.
"It took you this long to realize that?" Bear asked.
Paki shrugged. "He said if I could last long enough against him, I wouldn't have to practice today."
"You took him up on it, didn't you?" Bear said, shaking his head.
Paki shrugged again. "I'm not at practice, am I?" He had lasted longer against Kile than he thought he would, and he could tell by the captain's expression that he was impressed.
"Why can't they make me an offer like that?" Bear wondered. When he received his cue from the Mo'ani watching them, he notched another arrow on the longbow.
"Probably because the one time Kile tried to teach you to use a sword, you almost cut all your fingers off?" Paki suggested.
Bear narrowed his eyes at him, then sent another arrow into the center of the target. Because of his size and strength, his longbow was larger than most and Bear could send his arrows incredible distances with an almost unreal power.
"By the way," Bear said. "Tyran was telling me you had something of a late night."
"He was?" Paki pretended to be surprised, but cursed inwardly at the young stallion.
"Yes," Bear nodded his head. "He said Rena had an equally late night."
Paki shrugged, pretending not to care. "We're friends," he said, using the same line Bear had when Paki questioned him about Brijade.
"Right," Bear gave him a sideways look. "And I'm Lord Takis."
Paki grinned at him. "You might be one day," he said.
"Like I stand a chance while I'm here," Bear muttered.
Lord and Lady Corydon stayed for another day before leaving to return to Corydon Hold. The threat of their hold falling under siege prompted them to bring their children to the Stronghold, and Mo'ani agreed to keep them there until things were safe again.
Mo'ani also sent riders to Bavol Hold to make sure everything there was all right. The riders returned quickly with Tonek, who brought the news that his father was seriously ill. Evaine was spending every hour by her husband's side caring for him, and wasn't aware of the problems at Corydon Hold. Bavol's physicians were fairly certain Lord Bavol would recover, but not for some time. Given his age, both Paki and Bear were surprised to hear he was expected to live.
Word of Paki's match with Kile spread quickly, and he soon found himself no longer receiving as many dark looks. In fact, many of the older apprentices seemed cautious around him now, especially when he was carrying his sword.
Barely a week later, Mo'ani agreed to move him up with the fourth year apprentices. Shortly after that, Bear was moved with the third year apprentices.
Paki's training with Mo'ani continued until eventually he was no longer practicing with the other apprentices, but solely with Mo'ani and occasional lessons with Janec every few days. He also began training with full armor, and needed to learn to readjust his timing all over again. Something he surprised both himself and Mo'ani with by figuring out quickly. Within a few days of his first practice with the heavy armor, it felt completely natural to him to wear it, as though he'd worn all of his life.
He was also able to convince both Adie and Meda to teach him not only to spot hidden weapons, but to hide them on himself. He quickly learned that women had many more places to hide weapons than men did. The folds of their skirts alone could hide any number of sharp or poisoned things. As she more commonly wore breeches, it was at that point that Adie was able to teach him more, showing him how to hide things in hidden seams and slits.
Paki's eighteenth birthday passed quietly. After practice, he and Rena spent the day riding one of the mountain trails. Bear and the other apprentices had gone down to the village tavern, but Paki declined their invitation, wanting to spend the time with Rena. He hadn't seen anything good come from drinking, and didn't even want to guess the attraction it held for some of them. While Bear never drank in excess, the smell of those who did brought up surges of repulsion in Paki.
He ran the risk of being caught out of his bunk after curfew again and spent the night in the stable. Shortly after midnight, Rena came up with him again.
Twelve - "Just don't cause trouble"
Paki stepped to his right, twisting his blade around and pulling Mo'ani's short sword with him. The blade clattered to the floor several feet away. The victory was only a partial one, though, since Mo'ani was still holding his broadsword.
"I heard your wrist crack," Mo'ani said absently, sending a sharp upper cut toward Paki's chin. Paki blocked the swing and put his sword between them.
"It never hurts," Paki said. "And it's only the left one." His wrist had started making the popping and cracking sounds a few weeks before. Janec noticed it during practice and was making sure to keep an eye on it.
The two continued to exchange blows, but Paki was unable to get the broadsword away like the short sword. Mo'ani finally signaled an end to the match.
"You'd definitely give Kile a challenge now," Mo'ani said, walking to pick up the short sword.
"I don't want to," Paki said, pulling off a gauntlet and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He had thought a lot about his fight the previous autumn with Kile. Kile had won, and Paki had hurt for it, but so had Kile. Kile still wasn't defeated, and Paki thought it should stay that way. He met Mo'ani's eyes as the older man looked questioningly at him. "Kile is the captain of the guard and a nobleman in his own right," Paki explained. "He's devoted his entire life to Nahtan, and he shouldn't be defeated unless it's for the king he's devoted his life to."
Mo'ani studied Paki for a moment, then nodded his head.
"Very well said," he complimented. "And a true understanding of honor."
Paki shrugged. "Besides," he smiled. "I agree with Adie that I don't want to see his tantrum when he finally loses a fight."
Mo'ani chuckled. "He probably won't take it lightly," he agreed. He sat down on one of the crates and examined the edge on the short sword. Satisfied it wasn't nicked, he slid it into his sheath. "Let me see your wrist," he ordered.
Paki sat beside him and sheathed his sword, then held out his left hand. "Janec's keeping an eye on it," he said. "I should probably start wearing a brace on it."
Mo'ani felt along both sides of Paki's wrist. "That would probably be a good idea," he agreed. "But it doesn't seem to need one now, so you might be all right for a while." He pushed himself to his feet, picked up his other sheath and slid the broadsword into it.
"Can I ask you something?" Paki asked, picking up his things as he stood up.
"What?" Mo'ani paused before opening the door.
"What's it like being over two hundred years old?"
Mo'ani seemed to consider it for a moment, then shrugged. "I have no idea," he answered, pulling open the door. "I'm as strong as I was when I was fifty." He led the way from the storeroom.
Paki returned his armor to his bunk, then swung his sword onto his back and went down to the training yard. Now that he was practicing solely with Mo'ani, he didn't finish until shortly before the regular training started. Adie and Gharald were pulling the supplies needed that day from the shed. Paki leaned against the railing.
Gahrit stood by one side of the training yard and Paki realized he was leaning heavily against the railing. Gahrit's younger sister and brother had both returned to Corydon Hold a few weeks before, but Gahrit remained at the Stronghold, saying he
wanted to finish the books he was reading. Paki thought there was more to it than that, and knew Gahrit spent quite a bit of time watching the practices. Adie told him Gahrit's parents were so concerned for his health that they often wouldn't even let him near the training yard at Corydon Hold.
Paki didn't feel sorry for the young heir to Corydon Hold though, Gahrit's mind was sharper than most scholar's. Paki didn't doubt Meda was thrilled to have him studying in her library.
Gahrit looked up at him and nodded a greeting. Paki raised one hand in return as Adie walked over to him.
"How's your training coming?" Adie asked, leaning on the inside of the fence. She reached up and untied her topknot, her red hair falling around her face in a mass. Flipping over, she ran her fingers through to smooth it, then tied it again.
"Okay, I guess," Paki shrugged. Before Adie could stand up, he tapped the stiletto hidden down the center of her back.
"And you have a knife in your left sleeve," she said, flipping her hair over her back to hide the stiletto again.
"But I always have that one," Paki shrugged. "That's a given."
Adie gave him a sideways look, but didn't name any other weapon. Since he learned the right way to hide the assorted small weapons, he and Adie had begun openly pointing them out to each other when one was spotted. On Adie's advice, Paki also started growing his hair, letting him hide things under his collar, and subtly changed the style of his clothes to make things harder to spot.
"Are you practicing this afternoon?" Adie asked.
"Not unless I'm out here," Paki shrugged. I was going to ride down to the village to drop off some things at the mercantile for Bear if Kile didn't have anything for me."
"Let me know if you do." Adie stood up. "I'll go with you."
"Sure," Paki looked at her. "Why?" He didn't object to Adie's company. She traveled so much there was no end of things to talk about, making trips with her pass quickly.
