by Paul Heisel
“We’ll learn to do without then,” Feln said. He looked at the green snake team. The Fury stood there motionless, his bright, green tattoo gleaming. A familiar chill went through Feln. The tattoo was the same as Kara’s.
“Tell me about the teams. Why eight members?”
“Eight can be broken down into two groups of four,” was her answer. “It’s always been that way, so I don’t know the exact reason for eight. Each of these men and women have mastered various techniques from the instructors, some are more knowledgeable than others. The Fury supplies magical support and brute offense if needed. Everyone is well-trained in bows and weapons, including the Fury. One of each team is skilled at stealth and infiltration. They have the most difficult and dangerous tasks getting close to the targets.” Suun motioned toward the instructors. “I will have the instructors demonstrate the techniques. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
#
First was the girl. The old man was her grandfather, who was master of a technique they called a thousand cuts, and he had taught his granddaughter to become the next master of the technique. A member of green snake team and the girl squared off to demonstrate. The girl began striking in quick succession with her hands, a blur, and the green snake warrior blocked the attacks with similar moves. This went on for fifteen seconds, neither of them gaining an advantage. Then, somehow, the girl moved faster and landed blow after blow on the warrior’s chest. He reeled from the contact, trying to block the blows with his hands, but he wasn’t fast enough. Dozens of blows landed. The girl stopped. The warrior bowed, walked away, and promptly vomited.
Suun leaned over to Feln. “It’s good for close combat fighting, particularly when you can’t use your legs. The goal is to land so many blows that your opponent doesn’t have a chance to mount any sort of attack or counterattack. All they can do is block. Once you have them blocking, you’ve won.”
The yellow cobra team came forward, bowing to the Most Favored and the instructors. Servants from the side came in and brought padded mats, laying them together to make a cushioned floor. An instructor jumped down. It was one of the women and she bowed to a burly member of the yellow cobra team. Feln expected them to begin fighting, but what they did was grapple with each other. They used arm and leg strength to get position, and with amazing leverage the instructor threw her opponent to the ground. Even with the padding it looked as if it had hurt. Feln imagined slamming an enemy on the hard ground would do great damage. The demonstration continued, at times the yellow cobra warrior won, but the instructor was victorious much of the time.
“The techniques for throwing are numerous, but here are the real benefits of this technique.” Suun nodded to the instructor.
They grappled again, but this time the instructor took her opponent down, twisted, rolled, and came to a position with the opponent in an arm bar.
“In actual practice that arm would be broken and useless.”
They went at it again, both sweating from the effort, this time the yellow cobra warrior got the instructor down and ended up getting her in a choke hold.
“The hold cuts off the blood to the brain. Unconsciousness comes quickly, death if held.”
Feln nodded. He recognized the hold. Owori was a master of it. He was beginning to see that if all the warriors could use these techniques, they would be deadly. The two combatants bowed to the gallery and returned to their positions. Feln took his apple and bit into it, now more curious than ever what this all meant.
White tiger was next. The instructor jumped down. He was a wiry old man as taut as a leather strap. The white tiger warrior stepped forward. They bowed and went after each other like madmen. Had Feln not known anything about fighting, he would have thought these men had carefully choreographed the moves. But they weren’t dancing, not at all. They fought, striking, kicking, attacking, and counterattacking. They moved around the mat with grace and agility, the footwork entrancing. They would strike, block, strike, block, strike, block. Both were experts. Feln recognized the technique as being similar to what was taught at his monastery, but these warriors were far more advanced.
“The technique relies on quick footwork and precise movements. For each attack, there are several counterattacks and moves. The most gifted warriors can perform these without thinking. One mistake by your opponent and he’s dead. Each strike in battle is designed to kill.”
Feln stood up. The instructor and combatant stopped fighting as soon as they saw Feln standing. “May I?” he asked.
“Of course,” the instructor replied, smiling mischievously.
Feln removed his robe, leaving on his fighting clothes and the Most Favored belt. He felt good. It would be improbable if he won this fight, but he wanted to show them one technique he had learned that he didn’t see them demonstrate. Perhaps they were going to demonstrate this later, but he could show them how to defeat this technique. He bowed to the instructor. They fought, and Feln managed to block the first attacks but the third and fourth strikes would have killed him. Even though the instructor held back, the blows still stung. The instructor went through the moves in slow motion, revealing how to counter them. This went on for several rounds, each one getting longer as Feln learned to counterattack and attack. The instructor came at Feln and kicked hard at his hip, but instead of blocking down, Feln clamped the foot against his leg with strong hands. In the same motion he stepped forward, struck the instructor in the chest, and put him on the mat. The instructor groaned from the impact. Had it been hard ground, he would have been seriously hurt. Feln pulled the instructor to his feet, bowed, and went back to the bench.
“Well done,” Suun said. “I haven’t seen that before.”
Feln was still panting from the effort.
“If you can get your opponent to kick you just right at the hip, you can end the fight right there. In battle, the strike might have been with a knife to the chest. Instant death.”
Feln glanced at the instructors and the teams. They appeared impressed that he had joined the demonstration.
Next came red panther, the team with seven members. They bowed.
“Why does this team only have seven members?” Feln asked.
Suun stood up. “Because I’m the eighth member.”
She jumped to the arena along with one of the other women instructors. They were handed wooden weapons, small and large. The two fought, demonstrating a technique that involved distraction and surprise attacks. While fighting, Suun threw wood shuriken at her opponent and used the distraction to either retreat and get better position, or she used the additional time to set up for an offensive move. The swordplay was quick and deadly, and they used sticks, sais, short blades, and ninjatos. They returned to the bench. Suun wasn’t even winded.
“You only saw a small portion of what is taught. More stealth and lethal methods are taught to people like me. We use disguises as well, changing our height, sex, and age. We use deception to gain advantage. If you give me enough time, I can become anyone that I need to be to get the job done.”
Suun took a drink of water, her eyes glinted. She was enjoying this too much.
Seeing Suun sent chills down his back. She was an assassin, meant to dispense justice to the other families. He wasn’t sure if what he was feeling indicated respect or fear. The assembled people in this room were an incredible force. Now he could see why the other families resented the Xialao family, and why Suun thought him lucky to have survived the journey here.
“Show me what’s next.”
The purple alligator team rotated into view. The next instructor was a man, broad as he was tall. He, unlike the other instructors, carried an array of weapons that clanked when he jumped into the arena. It reminded Feln of Gargam, armed to the teeth and heading into Borgard castle. Servants came from the side with various apparatus that resembled men and women, along with several circular targets. Bows, knives, swords, axes, spears, and other weapons that he had never seen before came to the floor. The instructor began with the bow. Th
e arrows were long, thick, and looked as if they could sail right through a man. He had seen arrows like this before when Kojo's men had attacked the hill man. He demonstrated stationary shooting, then the servants brought horses in and he demonstrated his skill while moving. It reminded him again of his first encounter with Kojo when they took Iristi captive. His insides turned over. She was captive of Hiru and he had vowed to help her. He would have to do that on his way back to Hou, which was the only place he could transport back to Malurrion. It would be months, he guessed, before he would see Owori. At least he would get to see her.
Next came swordplay and weapons demonstrations. The skill of the warriors was incredible, surpassing anyone he had ever seen, and now he realized where Nar had received his initial training. The warriors were quick and precise with their weapon of choice; each strike was meant to kill. Some demonstrated their martial arts skills combined with the weapons – it seemed to Feln that no one would stand a chance against them. Feln ached to learn these techniques, as he had so much to learn. He wondered if they would allow him to train. He was on the edge of his seat, enthralled.
The blue lion group rotated into view as servants moved the shattered targets, debris, and horses from the area. The next instructor explained, as he stepped into the arena, what he was going to show next was their basic martial art. The focus was using knees, elbows, hands and feet to cripple the opponent. He demonstrated strikes against a willing warrior, all in half speed. Feln recognized the style as one they taught in Waskhal. The philosophy was the same; take down your opponent with one or two strikes and finish him off or use the time to get away. The focus here was striking the joints, kidneys, neck, face, or spine to debilitate your opponent.
“This is similar to how you fought earlier,” Suun commented.
“This is what we teach at my monastery.”
Last came the orange snake team. They bowed as one. The last instructor, a jovial woman, came down from the viewing area to be with them. “Save the best for last,” she said to the onlookers.
She paired off with one of the fighters and went through the moves and techniques in slow motion. The whole of it was elbow and knee strikes, and Feln could see if executed correctly, one blow could kill. It was like the strike he had used to slay the hill man. The instructor and fighter went full speed now, but held back the impact of the attacks. It was in-close fighting and relied on pulling your opponent forward into knees strikes, or using sharp elbows to inflict damage to the head.
They finished and bowed, then another member of the orange snake team came forward. The woman was thin and tall, her long dark hair was pulled into a braid. She bowed. Her oval face was serious, solid stone, and her matching dark eyes drooped a bit. She looked like a harmless teenager.
“This is one of the more difficult skills to master. Few can do this well,” said the instructor. “First show me the reverse kick.”
The instructor held up a piece of wood in the air. It was a small plank, no bigger than a dinner plate. The woman spun, a blur, and her foot snapped the plank in two and forced it out of the instructor’s hand.
“Imagine if that had been your head,” the instructor said. “Crushed temple.”
Feln nodded.
Members of the team lined up, each with boards held at head height. The young woman moved to each and spun, kicking the boards in half. It was over in a few seconds. She moved with effortless grace and never seemed to be in the same spot for long.
Feln leaned into Suun. “I haven’t been attacked by many boards.”
“Have patience,” she whispered back.
“Now the true test,” the instructor announced.
The members of the team discarded the broken boards and became fight ready. As one they attacked the solitary woman. The blows they rained down did not hit as she kept moving, there was a rhythm to her defense. She went on the offensive and two of the combatants took glancing blows from her spinning kicks. Though not seriously hurt, they dropped out, knowing in real battle they would have been unconscious on the ground. Moments passed and it was over, the solitary woman had won the fight against seven attackers. The team bowed.
“Wow,” Feln said low enough for only Suun to hear.
“She has mastered all of our techniques, including weapons. She is our most accomplished fighter. When you choose where the teams go, make sure orange snake is assigned to the most troublesome province.”
Feln turned to Suun. “So I have to assign the teams to provinces?”
She nodded. “It should be one of your first commands as Most Favored.”
“And what should my second one be?”
Suun stared at him, her blue eyes unblinking. “The families will bring evidence of grievances. There will be those that are minor, some will be more important. You’ll have to decide which warrant punishment, and what should be set aside as trivial. The second thing you should do, though, before the new grievances begin, is make a statement. You need to show the other families that they cannot cross you.”
“So I need to make an example of someone? Like Hiru?”
“Hiru is Most Favored now; you would have problems justifying your first decision as punishing an equal. That may cause more problems than it solves. But you need to act as swiftly as you can.”
“What about the Fury that murdered Chang?”
“Too small. No one, frankly, would care what you did to a Fury.”
“Kojo?”
Suun nodded. “He’s a powerful samurai. If he’s in league with Hiru, it’ll hurt to remove him from power. It may also misalign their plans if they’re thinking about attacking Hou or Ashimo as you suggested.”
“What should the punishment be? Death? Banishment? Strip him of his station?”
“The only fitting punishment is death. Think of all the innocents his army killed in Emesia.”
“There is no trial, no review by his peers, no chance for him to repent and pay for his actions otherwise?”
“In cases there may be investigations and a better view of what is fair will come to light. For now, though, you must make a statement. It must be firm.”
“What do you think my mother would have done?”
“Your mother was…ruthless,” Suun said, seeming to hang on the word too long. “What I know of Pyndira skews my opinion of what you should do. Your mother was a ruthless Most Favored, and kept order on the heels of the previous ruler of the family. It’s difficult to explain.” Suun looked at him with her icy blue eyes. “You must make a statement. Otherwise you won’t have the respect and fear you deserve. Our family deserves.”
“Suun, something’s missing,” Feln said. “It would be impossible for me to decide each transgression. It would take all my time. If I were a rival Most Favored, I would inundate Xialao with requests to bog down the process.”
“I was getting to that,” she said. “There’s a group of administrators, aides, who know the laws of Pyndira and help interpret what you should do. A few of them served with your mother, the remainder are new.”
“How am I to trust them?” Feln asked.
She laughed. “You don’t trust them. You must trust the process. It’s been done this was for hundreds and hundreds of years. Each of your predecessors policed the families in this way. The competition to be an administrator is fierce. You have the best minds in all of Safun helping you.”
“But they’re still bureaucrats.”
“Indeed, but they know their job. They know the laws.”
Feln rubbed his face. He didn’t understand why he was needed. If these aides made the decisions, then why did they need the Most Favored? He touched the belt, reasoning it had to be the magic. Pyndira was a land of laws and magic. These laws hadn’t been enforced since his mother departed, he presumed, to give birth to him. And that didn’t turn out so well for her.
“What are these laws?”
“They are numerous, but based on the same principle that each family should be allowed to prosper, trade, and li
ve without interference. Interference can be as simple as blocking a trade route, or it can be as complicated as paying insurgents to form a rebellion against a samurai.”
“Or assassinating a Most Favored.”
“Yes. It has happened a few times in our history.”
“These administrators, the ones I have delegated my authority to make a determination on the laws, they decide what happens?”
“They make recommendations and based on the level of authority you grant them; in some cases, they’ll make the decision and you’ll automatically agree with them. This would typically be minor things or decisions to do with business and trade. For more egregious acts, murder or kidnapping, only you can decide what happens.”
“If I wanted to delegate my authority to another person, could I do it?”
“No. It wouldn’t be allowed, and it wouldn’t work. Just as the magic of the belts bind us as a family, there are other items of magic that assist us. I was going to get to that.”
“You know I have to go back to Malurrion,” Feln said. “I have to get back to Owori.”
Suun turned away, gazing at the teams. They were removing the pads, weapons, and gear from the arena floor. “You must stay here,” she said.
“I have to go.”
“You must stay, at least for two or three months. You said yourself that she would be safe.”
“She will be safe in Sabrin. The Grand Master will take care of her. But I must go. I can stay a week or two, but I must be off to Emesia to transport back. I need to go back to my home.”
“One month then. That’ll give the families enough time to send emissaries to greet you and you can be a visible presence. They’ll know you’re here to stay and will enforce the laws. They’ll know the Xialao family again roams Pyndira to dispense justice.”
“One month and no more. On the thirtieth day, I will go with all speed to Hou.”
“In one month you’ll understand why you need to stay, and you won’t go.”
Feln looked to the arena. He pointed. “In one month I want to know what they know.”
