Huh? I looked down to see she had stopped me about a foot from a pit cut into the ground. It was only five feet deep, so I wouldn’t have killed myself if I fell in. But it would have hurt. It was a long rectangle that stretched between me and Saangi. I saw that it was around six feet wide, with bars running across every four feet or so.
“What is this?” I called out sarcastically. “A test of my courage?”
“No,” Saangi answered. “It is a test of your balance. Make it across and the water is yours.”
Oh man. I was supposed to hop from bar to bar. Four feet apart may not seem like much, but the bars looked to be around three inches wide, and there was a drop.
“What if I fall?” I asked.
“Do not,” Saangi said.
“Great. Thanks for the tip.”
I was scared. But I was thirsty, too. I had to do this. Without taking time to think, I leaped forward, landed on the first bar, lost my balance, and fell to the side.
“Begin again,” Saangi commanded.
I went back to the beginning and leaped for the first bar, hit with both feet and pinwheeled my arms until I got my balance.
“Bend your knees; Pendragon,” Saangi said calmly.
Oh. Right. I bent down and instantly got my balance. I took a breath and leaped for the next bar, this time keeping my knees bent. I made it! Looking forward, I saw that there were only ten more bars to go. It seemed like a hundred. I leaped for the next one, and hit it off balance. I wobbled back and forth and was ready to bail out to the side, but instead I launched for the next bar. I only got one foot on it…and fell through. I caught the bar under my right armpit, making my newly healed ribs burn with pain. But I refused to let go. I hung there for a second, my legs swinging beneath me.
“If you drop off,” Saangi said calmly, “you must start over.”
I had earned these few bars; I was not about to give them up. Do you know how hard it is to go from hanging below a three-inch-wide bar to getting your feet up on top so you can stand on it? Neither did I. But I found out. I wrapped one leg around the bar and twisted and pulled until I was sitting on it. It gave me a chance to rest, but I still had to get up and get moving.
“Is there a time limit to this?” I asked.
“No,” Saangi answered. “You will run out of strength before you run out of time.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said.
I cautiously got one foot up on the bar, put my weight on it, and was able to get my other knee up, and finally, my foot.
I was back on top! Balancing on a three-inch-wide beam wouldn’t be all that hard if it were flat on the ground. Keeping your balance while hanging in the air was a whole nother matter.
“Pretend there is no pit,” Saangi suggested, reading my mind.
“Easier said than done,” I replied.
I decided to change my tactics. Jumping onto a bar and stopping to get my balance wasn’t going to work. I had to use momentum. I figured this would either work, or I’d break my head. I bent my knees and leaped forward. I hit the next bar with one foot, but rather than stopping, I kept my forward momentum going. I launched off that foot and leaped for the next bar. And the next and the next. It wasn’t graceful, and I was always a breath away from falling, but it worked! I kept going over the last few rungs and with one final lunge I landed on the other side, thrilled to be back on solid ground.
“Yes!” I shouted in victory.
Saangi didn’t offer congratulations. I didn’t want any. I wanted the canteen. She gave it to me and started walking away.
“What about food?” I asked.
“When you earn it,” she said without turning back.
I didn’t care. I had water! I sat down and pulled out the leather plug, ready to down the whole canteen. After one gulp of the sweet, delicious liquid, I forced myself to slow down. There was no telling when I’d get more. I didn’t want to risk coughing and losing a single drop. Besides, I wanted to enjoy it. So I took my time, and I have to say, it was the sweetest drink I’ve ever had.
The thrill of victory didn’t last long. No sooner did I finish the water than I realized I was still thirsty. And hungry. I knew that in order to survive this ordeal, I was going to have to conserve my energy. Whenever I got the chance, I kept to the shadows or stayed in the barracks. When I wasn’t looking for food, that is. Or fighting. And I fought a lot. They all took turns sparring with me, giving me hints, teaching me. Nobody ever got mad or frustrated when I messed up, which was often. They didn’t need to yell to make their point. They had a much more effective technique. They hit me. Over and over. I always knew when I messed up because I’d get hit or knocked down. At one point I took off my Rokador jacket to see that I was totally covered with black-and-blue marks. Not pretty.
Loor was the worst. She had no mercy. The two of us would face off again and again. Day after day. Morning and night. After a while I didn’t even see her as a person. All I could see were those red spikes sticking out from her elbows and knees. Getting those spikes meant getting food. That’s all I cared about.
“Watch my eyes, and my center,” Loor would say, pointing to her gut. “In battle the eyes tell what your opponent is thinking; his center tells which way he is going.”
Yeah. Whatever. I’d lunge for a stake, and she’d bat me away.
“Never make the first move,” she said time and again.
“How can I get one of those stakes if I don’t try to get them?” I’d yell in frustration.
She wouldn’t answer.
I preferred fighting Saangi. She wasn’t as quick as Loor nor as strong as Alder. I took advantage of that. Rather than use my bamboo weapon and try to outduel her, I’d simply jump at her, take a few lumps, and grab a spike. Yes! It didn’t take any skill. I didn’t care. I was hungry. Saangi was getting angry at me for not following the rules, but hey, tough. This was about survival. If I didn’t take advantage of Saangi, I’d have collapsed.
Nights were the worst. I’d try to get some sleep, only to be thrown out of bed and dragged out into the compound for another game of “Let’s whack Bobby in the dark.” During these fights I tried everything to defend myself and get in some shots of my own, but it was futile. I’d stand there, waiting to get hit. If I heard a sound, I’d flail at it, only to get smacked around and pushed back.
“Never make the first move,” Loor would remind me.
“What am I supposed to do?” I complained. “Stand here and take it?”
“Feel us,” Alder would say.
Yeah, right.
As the days went on, Saangi was sent out to fight me less and less. Loor must have felt like I was winning too much food from her, without the benefit of improving my skills. But Saangi still played a part. She was the one who gave me the physical challenges, like hopping over the bars of the pit. Mooraj was full of these diabolical playground devices. She would always have a reward, and always make me work for it. Some of the challenges were fairly easy, like moving hand over hand on a frame that looked like monkey bars at a school playground. Other times I had to do simple exercises like push-ups. Did I say simple? They would have been easy in an air-conditioned gym. But in the shape I was in, under the burning sun, they were anything but simple. Other times the challenges were truly difficult, like running a gauntlet of heavy stones that were tied to the ends of ropes. There were about twenty of these painful pendulums. Saangi would get them all swinging in different directions, and I’d have to run through without getting hit. Usually I’d get beaned by one of the heavy stones, and let me tell you, it hurt. Worse, I’d have to start over. But every so often I’d make it through by ducking, dodging, hesitating, and finally diving over the finish line. My reward would sometimes be water; other times it would be fruit or bread.
As time passed I found myself winning more and more of these challenges. The fact was, I was getting stronger. And quicker. Winning some food helped build my strength too. But it was all the exercise that was paying off.
I even got to the point where I could run across the pit with the bars every time without falling, no sweat. Well, okay, maybe some sweat. It was hot. I’ve mentioned that, right?
When I wasn’t fighting, I took off my Rokador jacket and went bareback. Slowly my skin started turning brown. I wasn’t exactly Batu dark, but I was getting close. I didn’t think anybody would mistake me for a Ghee warrior, but I was looking less like a white Rokador every day. And in spite of the daily pounding I was taking, I was feeling better than ever. I think my body got used to getting hit, because the black-and-blue marks went away. I even started to put on a little muscle. I think the weight-lifting regimen that Saangi put me through helped that.
But there was still something missing. Something big. Even though I was becoming more agile and strong, I wasn’t doing so well in the fighting department, and after all, that’s what this was all about. As I wrote before, what kept me going throughout this ordeal was the fear of facing Saint Dane again. Being in shape and having a nice tan wasn’t going to help much in another death match. I was beginning to fear that in spite of all this hard work, I might not be any better off. Then one night I was dragged out of bed for another pitch-dark slap session.
“Feel us,” Alder would say.
“I’m trying!” I’d say, waving my arms around like a frantic chicken.
Whack. Whack. Hands would come from nowhere to knock me around.
“How can you do that?” I screamed in frustration. “You can’t see me!”
“We see you, Pendragon,” Alder said. “Not with our eyes.”
“That’s stupid!” I shouted.
“Is it?” Saangi said as she smacked me around a few times.
I wanted to cry in frustration, and agony. “What does this have to do with being a warrior?” I screamed.
“It isn’t magic,” Loor said. “Fighting is a dance. Every move brings another. If you can sense your opponent, sense his movements, sense his strength and weakness, you will own him.”
Right. Use the Force, Luke. I tried to control my breathing. I even closed my eyes. Why not? They weren’t doing me any good. I listened. They weren’t ghosts. They had to breathe. They had to move. They had to give off heat and smell. As I stood there, trying to use every other sense but sight, I felt something. It was nothing more than a wisp of air on my arm. It lasted a nano-second. It was a slight breeze that came from something moving past. It was small, but I definitely felt it. Without taking a second to analyze, I reacted by sweeping my hand out to where I felt the body might be…and slapped somebody on the arm! I was so surprised, I actually said, “Oh! Sorry!”
An instant later, something was dropped at my feet. I didn’t see it, but I felt it and jumped back in surprise. I had no idea what it could have been, though I expected it to be some kind of decoy-trick so that when I reached down to grab it, I’d get pummeled again. So I didn’t move. Instead, I closed my eyes and tried to sense the others. This is going to sound strange, but after a second, I knew they were already gone. I had felt them. Or should I say, I didn’t feel them anymore. I don’t know how else to describe it.
After a few more moments, I cautiously knelt down to find out what had been thrown on the ground in front of me. I reached out and instantly felt something familiar, and welcome. It was a canteen full of water. Right next to it was a piece of fruit that felt like a pear. It was a reward. I had done something right. It wasn’t just luck, either. I had found my opponent without using my eyes. Had I made a breakthrough? I figured I must have, seeing as I was not only given a reward of food and water, but was then allowed to sleep through the night without getting another beating. It was the first full night’s rest I had since my stay at the Batu hospital. Man, I needed it.
I was feeling pretty good about myself, as if I had finally learned something. That was the good news. Bad news was that Loor felt the same way. I had finally shown a hint of promise; therefore she no longer felt the need to show me mercy. What followed on that dry, dusty training ground of Mooraj was the most grueling battle I had been through since my bout with Saint Dane.
This was going to be my final exam, and it wasn’t going to be pretty.
JOURNAL#21
(CONTINUED)
ZADAA
Counter a block with a strike,”Loorinstructed.”Itis when your opponent is the most vulnerable.”
Itried. Overand over. Ihadbeentrying. Loorwould swing at me, I’d block it, but whenItried to counter with an attack, she’d quickly back off, or counter that move with a strike of her own and smack me. Hard.
“That’s not fair,”Ishouted.”It’s like you know whatI’m going to do.”
“Ido,”Looranswered.
“Let’s keep going,”Isaid, bearing down.
“Thethird move is the most important,” she explained.”Thatis the strike that will count.”
“I’m trying!”Ishouted in frustration.
“Faster!”she commanded.
Itried. Itried. Itried. Ifailed every time. Itwas making me crazy. Wewent at it for hours. Myhands were getting raw from squeezing the bamboo pole. Iwas so thirstyIwas nauseous. Still, Loorwouldn’t stop, andIwasn’t about to give up. Oncewhen she was walking back to get into position, Ijumped at her to try and grab one of the spikes. IfiguredI’d catch her unaware. I didn’t. It was like she had eyes in the back of her head. Without turning around, she jammed her pole at me, catching me in the gut, making me double over in pain.
“Never make the first move,” she said. “Yeah, yeah, so you say,” I answered, grabbing my sore stomach.
The fight went on. Loor showed no sign of tiring. I showed no sign of making her tired. At one point the two of us stood facing each other, not moving, which was fine by me. I didn’t want to get hit again. It was then that I realized something odd. I actually felt pretty good. Physically, I mean. In spite of all the sparring, I still had my breath. Saangi’s challenges had helped build my endurance, and the training had taught me to use my energy carefully. Now if I could only get a feel for the fight!
Whack! I got hit from behind. A quick spin showed me that Alder had joined the fun. No sooner did I look at him, than Loor sprang and cracked me across the head.
“Never take your eye off your opponent,” she chastised.
“But he was my opponent!” I protested.
“We are both your opponents,” Alder said.
The two circled me. “How can I keep my eye on both of you?” I asked.
“Feel us,” Alder said.
Great. More Jedi talk. But the truth was, I started to think there was something to it. Loor was on one side, Alder on the other. I looked straight ahead, barely seeing them in my peripheral vision. But I could sense them. I knew where they were.
Alder attacked. I dropped down and rolled away, popping back up and expecting Loor to come from the other side. That’s exactly what happened. Loor came in with her stick held high, ready to chop down at me. I was ready. She wasn’t fast enough. When she struck, I threw up my weapon and blocked the shot. Yes! But my victory didn’t last. A second later Alder cracked me across the head, and I saw stars.
“What was that?” I yelled, jumping up angrily. “I thought it was all about the third move?”
“It was,” Loor said. “I made it.”
“Exactly!” I countered. “Alder, then me, then you, and I blocked it!”
“Of course you did,” Loor said. “Because I made you wait.”
She was right. I sensed it at the time, but didn’t react. She had come in way too slowly. She was setting me up. She made the third move all right. The important move. The move that set Alder up for the kill. I suddenly felt drained and frustrated. There was too much to learn, and we were taking too long to do it. We needed to be out hunting for Saint Dane, not trying to teach the unteachable. I dropped my shoulders, threw my weapon down, and turned to walk away.
“That’s it,” I said. “I’m done.”
“Pendragon,” Loor called.
I didn’t sto
p.
“Pendragon!” she called again.
For the first time since this ordeal began, she sounded angry. I heard it in her voice. I sensed her tension. I felt her coming after me. I kept walking.
“I will not allow you to give up!” she shouted at me.
She had nearly caught up to me. I could sense that she was reaching out to stop me. That’s when I made my move. I dropped down, swept my leg, and caught her on the backs of both knees. Loor went down hard. I sprang forward, put my knee to her chin, and leaned down to her.
“Never make the first move,” I said.
I reached back and grabbed the red spikes from both her elbows, pulling each one off deliberately, enjoying myself.
Alder laughed. It was as big and boisterous a laugh as I had ever heard from him. He came over and picked me up off Loor like a doll, giving me a hug. Loor got up and stood where she had fallen. I’ve seen Loor in many fights. Not just in the last few weeks, but against real enemies, when it counted. I had never, ever seen anyone get the better of her. As far as I knew, I was the first. She didn’t say anything. She only stood there, staring at me.
“Hey,” I said with a shrug. “You’re the one who said I had to be clever.”
Loor stared me down for a long moment, and then she smiled. In that one instant I felt all the tension melt away. My guess was that she didn’t consider this a defeat, but a victory. She had actually managed to teach me something.
“We are done, Pendragon,” she said. “There is nothing more we can teach you here.”
“Sure there is,” I said. “But we can’t waste any more time.”
“Do not underestimate what you have learned,” Loor said. “You have done far better than I expected.”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“You are ready, my friend,” Alder said.
I glanced between the two of them and added, “You realize I hate you both.”
Neither were sure of how to react to that. I smiled and added, “But I’ll get over it.”
“Saangi!” Loor shouted out. Saangi instantly came running out from one of the buildings to join us. Loor said, “Saangi, please bring the remaining food and water to the sleep area. Pendragon must eat.”
The Rivers of Zadaa tpa-6 Page 12
