“You get off my property now! I won’t put up with any more of your taunting. The wedding is going on as planned.”
“What’s going on?” Blaize asked Sherrial as he made his way towards the door.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Sherrial replied as she shrugged her thin shoulders. “A few troublemakers have been coming by the house the last few nights threatening us if I go through with the marriage. They say that no peasant scum is going to become the new baroness. They haven’t done anything but make noise. They’re harmless.”
As Blaize reached the door and looked outside, he was not so sure how harmless they were. Sherrial’s father stood in front of the porch glaring at nearly a dozen men armed with clubs and swords. The men did not appear as harmless as Sherrial had made them sound.
“You get off my property right now or I’ll . . .”
“Or you’ll do what old man,” one of the men said, cutting off Sherrial’s father. “You aren’t going to do anything to us, but we are definitely going to do something to you. We warned you to call off the marriage.” The man who had been doing all of the talking walked forward to stand toe to toe with Sherrial’s father. “We warned your little jade to stay away from the baron’s son, but she didn’t listen,” he spat. “Now you and the wench are going to pay!”
“I better go out there and help your father,” Blaize whispered to Sherrial. “Have this many come before?”
“No, usually there are only a few of them, but don’t worry about it,” Sherrial whispered back. “They’re all talk. They aren’t going to do anything. They’ve just been hired by some noble to try to scare me into not marrying Cecil. I guess it really doesn’t matter now anyway.”
Blaize still felt uneasy about what was happening. A dozen shady looking men with weapons coming in the night did not seem like nothing to him. Seeing Sherrial’s father’s glare on the man in front of him, Blaize wondered if the old man might be able to back them off with his glare alone. After a few more tense moments, the leader of the ruffians shrugged, took a step back, and turned to leave. However, Sherrial’s sigh of relief was cut short as the man spun back around with his blade bared and drove it into her father’s stomach. The old man gasped in surprise before slumping to the ground as Sherrial screamed from the doorway.
“Now for the wench. Let’s be done with this,” the leader spat.
Blaize pushed the hysterical Sherrial back into the room as he slammed the door shut and bolted it in hopes of slowing the advancing mob. Blaize looked around desperately for something to use as a weapon while Sherrial continued to weep for her father. He found the poker next to the fire place and made his way back towards the door that was now being bombarded with hard thuds from the outside. The old door shook with every thud, and Blaize knew it would not hold out much longer. Sherrial made her way to Blaize’s side and put her arms around him.
“We’re as good as dead,” she said quietly from her tear stained face. “At least I will die beside the man I love.”
Blaize gently pushed her away from him and towards the door at the back of the room.
“We’re not dead yet, Sherrial,” Blaize said with a voice of steeled determination. “I won’t let them harm you. I almost lost you once, and I’m not going to lose you now.” A tremendous thud smashed into the door, sending splinters flying. “Just stay back. I won’t let them get near you.”
Blaize turned from Sherrial’s face. She was beautiful beyond anything he had ever seen despite her puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. No one would harm his future wife. No one! Blaize raised the iron poker into the air as another thud almost broke the door in. He did not know how he was going to stop a dozen men with only a poker, but he knew that he had to. He could bear death but not the death of his Sherrial. The door suddenly exploded inward as a man came crashing through it. Blaize swung the poker down as hard as he could on the disoriented man’s head. As the man collapsed to the floor, another one came in through the empty door frame waving a sword above his head. Blaize immediately lunged forward impaling the man with his poker. As the man slumped to the ground in surprise, Blaize snatched the sword from his hand and brought it up in front of him just in time to block the downward stroke of another ruffian’s sword. Blaize blocked another stroke before driving his blade into the heart of his opponent.
Blaize pulled the blade quickly out of the limp body, kicking it to the side to give him ground to fight on. Another man came rushing through the doorway with a wooden club raised above his head and screaming with fury. Blaize’s sword flashed across in front of him, ending the man’s screams. He held his blade in front of him as this time two men slowly entered through the splintered door frame. One of them lunged forward greedily but was stopped short as Blaize’s sword sliced into him. Blaize leapt backwards too slowly as the second man swung his sword, leaving a shallow gash across Blaize’s stomach. Blaize immediately leaped forward over one of the fallen bodies to bring his sword crashing down on the man. As the man’s body crumpled to join the bodies already littering the floor, two men with large clubs rushed into the room through the door. One leaped at Blaize instantly and found himself skewered on Blaize’s sword.
Before Blaize could pull his sword free, the second man’s club came crashing down on his outstretched forearm. His arm went numb as stabbing pain cascaded away from the strike. Blaize screamed in pain and rage as he swung his left fist into the man’s wicked grin. As the man stumbled back, Blaize kicked him as hard as he could in the stomach. The man doubled over, and Blaize brought his boot up crashing into the man’s chin. Blaize leaped to retrieve the man’s club as he fell to the ground and three more men poured through the doorway. He gripped the club in his left hand and spun around. The club whistled through the air before cracking into the closest man’s skull and ricocheting from Blaize’s hand. As the man collapsed, Blaize turned to face the other two. One of them was already upon him. Blaize dropped to his knee as the man’s sword whistled over his head. Blaize then jumped up catching the man’s wrist with his left hand. The man tried to break free of Blaize’s grip but could not. Blaize held on tightly as the man swung around behind him and tried to choke him. Blaize threw his head backwards, smashing the man’s face. The man let go of his sword and stumbled backwards, bringing his hands up to his bloodied face. Blaize snatched the sword as it fell and spun around quickly finishing the man off.
Blaize then turned to face the third man. He had been standing back watching but now was ready to fight. He drew his sword and eyed Blaize warily as he slowly moved towards him. Blaize held tightly to the hilt of the blade and kept it between him and the third man. The man suddenly sprang into action, slashing furiously at Blaize. Blaize deflected the first stroke but the second glanced off his sword and nicked his right shoulder. Grimacing with pain, Blaize took the offensive and slashed back at the ruffian. Both swords clashed together in a rain of sparks. Blaize kept slashing with the remainder of his strength and slowly had the man backed against the wall. Rearing back, Blaize swung his sword as hard as he could against his opponent’s blade, shattering it. Before Blaize could strike again, the man drove the jagged remains of his sword into Blaize’s thigh. Blaize screamed in pain as his sword delivered a death blow to the man.
Trying to catch his breath and remain standing, Blaize turned towards the door and braced himself for the next attack. He was met, however, solely by the silent night. The only sounds Blaize could make out in the stillness were his own labored breathing and rapidly beating heart. He could hardly believe that the attack was finally over. The tranquil silence and cool air blowing through the room seemed surreal after the heat of the battle. It almost seemed too quiet. The silence was broken by a dull thud behind him. Spinning around, he found Sherrial’s lifeless body lying on the floor of the back room with a dagger in her heart. Behind her stood a window, yawning open to the darkness of night. Stumbling to the opening, Blaize stared out into the empty night and screamed.
“NO! NOOOOO!”
Blaize searched the darkness, but all was still. As he turned haggardly from the window, he saw nothing in the room but the lifeless body of his love lying in a pool of fresh blood. She had been his reason for living. She had been the passion that kept him going. She had been his happiness and his life. Blaize slumped to the ground, not having the strength to stay on his feet any longer. He dragged himself along the floor of the room using his left arm as his right dangled uselessly at his side. When he reached Sherrial’s body, he gently pulled the crooked dagger from her chest and stared numbly at it and the letter scratched into its hilt before letting it fall. He then gently cradled Sherrial’s angelic head in the crook of his arm. Lying down next to her, the blood from his wounds mixing with her blood, Blaize did something he had not done since he was a small child; he cried.
* * * * *
As Blaize finished his story, Traven could see tears in the magnificent warrior’s eyes. He didn’t know what to say, so he kept silent. Blaize stood up and walked away from the fire and out into the night. Traven watched in silence until Blaize was out of sight. He then woefully added some more wood to the fire before lying down for the night. With the solid ground beneath him, he stared up at the stars. They didn’t seem as bright as they had before.
14
Blaize was back to normal with the coming of morning. He had gotten up early, kicked Traven awake, and sent him to go through his old exercises one more time. By the time the sun was up, they were on the road headed for Calyn. The weather was beginning to turn colder, and Traven wrapped himself up tightly in his cloak. The cold did not seem to affect Blaize at all, however. Most of the few trees that Traven could see from the road were already beginning to lose their leaves. Blaize said it looked like winter was going to come early this year but that they would easily be in Calyn before the first grassland blizzards came. Traven sure hoped that Blaize was right. It would be awful to be stuck out in a blizzard. As the sun climbed toward the horizon, the day warmed up, allowing Traven to put his cloak away. By the time they stopped at midday, he was full of excitement. Blaize had promised to teach him new exercises. This would be the final set of exercises that Blaize would be able to teach him before they parted in Calyn.
“Are you ready to learn some new exercises?” Blaize asked.
“You know I am,” Traven replied. “Let’s get on with it already.”
“Okay, since this is going to be the last set that I teach you, I’m going to teach you some things that are going to take you a lot longer to master than your previous exercises. I’m also going to have you divide your routine into three different sets instead of just two. You’ll start off with your agility exercises as usual, but then you will spend time on free combat before practicing with your sword. Free combat is fighting with your bare hands.”
“Why don’t you just call it weaponless combat?” Traven interrupted.
“Because that’s not what it is. I call it free combat instead of weaponless combat because it is not weaponless. Your hands, your feet, your whole body becomes the weapon. The body is the greatest weapon of all. When you use a sword or any other crafted weapon, you are using it in conjunction with your body. A blade is not a weapon until your body turns it into one. A blade is merely a tool that your body uses to increase its own capabilities as a weapon. A blade without a body to wield it is not a weapon, but a body without a blade to wield is still a weapon. Do you understand?” Traven nodded in affirmation. He had never thought about it like that before, but it was definitely true. “Now that we have that out of the way, I’ll show you your new exercises.”
To start off with, Blaize told him that he would basically be doing the same agility exercises but would need to increase their difficulty a little by sprinting instead of jogging and by jumping as high as he possibly could when diving and kicking into the air. Traven would also need to double the amount of push-ups and sit-ups that he was already doing. He would only be doing all of these exercises through once to leave enough time for him to add his free combat exercises. This didn’t sound all that bad until he learned that many of the free combat exercises were merely extensions of the agility and endurance exercises that he would also be doing. He had thought he would get a break from all of the boring exercises but unfortunately learned that now he would just be doing them twice.
His free combat exercises were, however, a little more interesting than the basic exercises, because now he was punching and kicking and could imagine that he was fighting someone. The first exercise was merely to practice punching and blocking with his hands, doing it both with his fists and with his hands opened. He then would practice kicking and blocking with both legs. After that he would do his diving rolls but would come out of them in a fighting stance that Blaize showed him and immediately throw two punches before kicking strongly straight up in front of him. He then would practice doing various types of kicks while jumping up in the air. He would finally work on a combination of attacks and blocks that included dropping to the ground and spinning his leg around to trip an opponent. By the time he had gone through each of the exercises, he was breathing hard, and he hadn’t even done any of his regular exercises like he would be doing in his new routine. Blaize told him to run through the free combat exercises again, and then they ate lunch and got back on the road. Blaize said he would teach him the new sword exercises when they stopped for the night.
Traven spent the rest of the day resting upon his steed as he plodded down the road. He was looking forward to learning the new sword patterns but knew that he was going to be sore for the next few days until he got used to all of the new exercises. As the sun headed toward the horizon, a stiff breeze picked up. It was cool enough that Traven had to pull his cloak back out and put it on. They stopped with the setting of the sun and set up camp a little ways from the road. Traven soon had a warm fire blazing and was able to shed his cloak. After eating some dried meat, biscuits, and cheese, Blaize let out a belch and got up from the fire.
“Time to learn the new sword exercises.” Traven got up to follow and grabbed his cloak. “Leave your cloak here. As soon as you start your exercises you’ll just take it off. Besides, you need to build up your cold weather endurance.”
Traven tossed the cloak back down with a sigh and followed Blaize out into the twilight. As soon as he was away from the warmth of the fire, goose bumps broke out all over his skin as the chilling breeze made its way across the grasslands. Under the light of the moon, Blaize drew one of his swords and began to show Traven his new routines. Traven had expected them to be a bunch of small patterns to work on as they had been before but was surprised to find that this routine was definitely different than the others. While the others had been many different exercises, the new routine was a single exercise that flowed smoothly from one type of pattern to another. As Blaize demonstrated the new routine, Traven realized how similar this was to what Blaize himself did every day. It was simpler of course and used only one blade but had the basic look of what Blaize practiced. When Blaize finished going all the way through the pattern once, he broke it down into smaller parts so that Traven would be able to remember it.
The pattern began in a motionless stance with the sword held pointing up, slightly forward and off to the side. From there, Blaize suddenly swiped his blade forward in a short arc. After doing several more slashes, he took a defensive stance and parried imaginary slashes. He then counter attacked. He stopped to make sure that Traven understood all of it and then began the second part of the routine. While the first part had been slashes, the second was all spinning and whirling as the blade cleared a wide path through imaginary enemies. Traven concentrated on the turns and the whirling of the blade but still had to ask Blaize to show it to him a little slower so that he could get all of it. The third part was diving and rolling, jumping back up to slash and block, and then repeating it several times using different sword patterns. Traven only needed to see that part once because it so closely resembled earlier exercises. The fourth part looked
much harder. It consisted of much of the whirling from earlier but added slashing leaps, rolls that ended in piercing thrusts, and weaving intricate patterns in front while leaping back and forth from one foot to the other.
The fifth and final part of the routine looked even more difficult than any of the rest. It seemed to combine everything else into one furious attack. It started out with a roll that turned into a whirling pattern upon regaining your feet. The whirling pattern became even more intricate as Blaize leaped into the air in a hard kick without the blade ever slowing. Upon landing he ducked, swiped for imaginary legs, and jumped back up to make multiple quick slashes. It was then another diving roll in another direction and stabbing thrusts followed by more slashing. The fifth part continued for several more minutes as Traven tried desperately to take it all in. When Blaize finally finished, Traven had him go through it more slowly. After that he still needed Blaize to show him a few parts before he figured out what he was supposed to do. After assuring Blaize that he remembered everything, they headed back to the camp. Traven welcomed the warmth of the fire while Blaize stayed back for a while letting the swift wind help to cool his body after the strenuous routines.
“If you get all of these routines down perfect before we reach Calyn, we’ll have a practice fight so you’ll see what it’s like actually facing somebody else that’s good with a sword,” Blaize said, walking over next to the fire.
“You mean I’m going to practice against you? I think that would be pretty one sided,” Traven asserted as he thought about it. “Maybe we could find someone else for me to practice against besides you.”
“Oh brother,” Blaize said as he rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to try to kill you, Traven. I just want to give you some practice.”
“More likely you want to give me another lesson in humility,” Traven stated, eyeing Blaize and thinking about the last time he had tried to fight him.
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