by Philip Blood
When late afternoon arrived they came upon a small group of trees in the rolling hills. Elizabeth decided they had traveled far enough for that day. “This looks like a good place to camp. I’d like to get a chance to practice some of what you’ve been teaching me before the sun sets completely.”
Poison nodded and replied, “It’s all right with me, besides ‘e probably needs the rest.” She shrugged in Hetark’s direction, giving him a smirk.
Hetark just looked away and pretended he had not heard the remark. After dismounting and readying their gear for the night, Elizabeth and Poison left Hetark to picket the horses while they chose a gnarled tree trunk to begin their knife throwing practice.
Poison stopped twenty paces from the trunk and removed six knives from about her leather outfit. She handed five to Elizabeth. “I’ve already showed you the proper way te hold a knife you wish te throw, now watch the way I throw it. I’ll throw it as slow as I can.”
Poison didn’t know that Elizabeth had observed her throw within her mind’s memories often throughout the day.
The professional bodyguard pulled her knife hand back over her shoulder, with her left hand held palm down and forward for balance. Then she rolled her shoulders while bringing her knife arm forward. At the last moment, she cracked her wrist and released the knife, pointing at the tree. The hurling blade rotated once, completely, then thwacked into the center of the hard wood.
Poison walked to the tree and rocked the knife back and forth to draw it out of the wood. She returned to Elizabeth’s side and said, “All right, move up ten paces and try it. Don’t be concerned about stick’in the knife in yet; we’ll just work on proper form and aim, right?”
“Right, but can I try the first one from the same place you did?” Elizabeth asked.
“It’ll make it harder to hit the trunk, but you can try it if you want.”
Elizabeth tucked four of the knives in her belt and then she carefully gripped the last one in the position Poison had shown. Closing her eyes she pictured the look and feel of the memories she had read from Poison. Opening her eyes again she took a breath, relaxed control, and allowed her body to flow in the memories of Poison’s body motions.
The knife went back over her shoulder and her left hand balanced her in front, the arm snapped forward and she let it fly.
The balanced knife tumbled once through the air, imitating Poison’s recent toss, and hit the tree two hand’s spans high and one hand’s span to the right of the mark Poison’s dagger had left in the trunk.
Poison stared at the knife sticking in the tree and then at Elizabeth. “You’ve thrown knives before, haven’t you?” she asked, suspiciously.
“That was the first, do I have any potential?” Elizabeth asked, knowing quite well her throw was good.
“Potential!” Again she looked at Elizabeth strangely, “Why don’t you try it again.”
“All right,” she answered and let fly with another throw, again letting the memory of Poison’s throw flow through her mind and reflexes. The knife flew true and struck the tree a foot from its predecessor.
Poison walked to the tree and pulled the two knives free, deep in thought.
“Any suggestions on how to improve my throw?” Elizabeth asked.
“You’re not fool’in with me, are you? You’ve really never thrown knives before?”
“This is the first time,” Elizabeth replied truthfully.
“Hetark hasn’t taught you te throw?” she asked, still attempting to make sense of the puzzle.
“He was just about to begin teaching me, when we hired you,” Elizabeth answered.
“I see,” Poison said, though she didn’t. Her thoughts were troubled. Something is strange here; I’m not getting the whole story. One thing for sure, this woman is not just a simple merchant’s wife looking for a little excitement in her life. She’s highborn and looking to learn to fight for a reason. Duels? A woman fighting duels? Not even noble women fight duels, do they? None of this makes sense!
Elizabeth listened in on Poison’s troubled surface thoughts, which reconfirmed her belief that uneducated doesn’t always mean stupid. She decided Poison was one smart girl.
“Turn around,” Poison instructed Elizabeth, “all the way until yer back is te the tree. Good, now when I say 'go' turn and throw the knife at the tree, and don’t pause, make it all in one motion.”
Elizabeth readied herself, she didn’t have a clear memory of Poison doing this exact maneuver, but she tried anyway.
“Go!” Poison yelled suddenly.
Elizabeth spun and let the knife fly; it missed the tree trunk completely, landing a few yards away.
“That’s better!” Poison exclaimed happily.
“What do you mean, I missed the tree completely,” Elizabeth complained.
“Yes, but I was beginn’in te think I was los’in my mind. Yer first two throws were just lucky; this one was much more realistic. It should take lots o’ practice te achieve a high level of accuracy,” Poison explained.
“Let me see you do it,” Elizabeth asked.
Before she had quite finished asking, Poison had spun, pulled a knife and thrown it into the tree, the point nearly touching her first mark.”
“Very impressive, let me try again,” Elizabeth placed herself in approximately the same position Poison had started from and then duplicated the maneuver, her blade landing a little over a hand’s span from Poison’s.
“Yulkcrap!” Poison cussed, and stomped away to look out over the line of grass covered hills. “No one can learn te do that with two practice throws, not even me!” After a few moments, Poison said, “You claim that this is yer first time throw’in knives? If that’s true, do you know why ye’re learn’in so fast?”
“Yes, I do, but I’m not going to tell you, yet. I’ll make you a deal, teach me as fast as I can learn and if you haven’t figured out how I’m doing it before we reach Myrnvale I’ll explain it to you then, deal?” Elizabeth asked, sticking out her hand.
Poison frowned for a moment, but the honest smile on Elizabeth’s face and her outstretched hand won her over. She reached out and clasped Elizabeth at the wrist in a warrior’s clasp and they shook weapon arms.
For the next hour, Poison demonstrated throws from every position, and Elizabeth duplicated them almost perfectly.
After an hour, they took a short rest while sitting on the dry grass.
“Yer ability te learn my throws is noth’in short of amaz’in, yet I’ve noticed you do them too slow and yer accuracy is good, but not great. Is this someth’in te do with how ye’re learn’in so fast?” Poison asked, hoping to pump Elizabeth for some answers to the mystery.
Elizabeth knew what she was doing, but understood her curiosity. “Yes, I can instruct my body to imitate what I’ve seen you do, but it’s new, so I have to walk through it slowly. I know how to do it, but I can’t perform at the snap of fingers like you can.”
“What do you mean?”
“There are different types of memory, and we’re dealing with two here. A simple way to look at the two is this, one type is when only your brain knows and gives detailed instructions to your muscles. In the other case, your muscles know and perform without more than a ‘go’ command from your brain.”
“Come on, everyone knows yer head is what remembers things, not yer muscles. All memory is the same,” Poison answered.
“You’re right about your muscles not having a memory, precisely, but it’s easier to explain it that way than saying your brain has more than one type of thinking in it, but it does. Let me give you an example, sometime in the next few moments I’m going to say go, when I do I want you to lean your right knee inward, turn your head left, pull both your hands left and lean back slightly. And make sure you do them all at once,” Elizabeth instructed.
“That’s a lot te remember,” Poison complained.
“Not only that, but you have to remember it while we talk because you’re not going to know when I want you to do
the movements. Are you staying ready?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes,” Poison said simply, a look of concentration on her face.
“You’re concentrating on the list of things you have to do, correct?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes, I’ll be ready fer you,” Poison answered.
“What if I told you not to keep repeating the list of... GO!” Elizabeth suddenly exclaimed.
Poison’s right knee went left, her head looked left, her hands went left, and then she leaned back. When finished she looked at Elizabeth, smiling broadly because she had managed to do everything Elizabeth had wanted.
“Notice, you didn’t do everything at once, they were close, but you did them in order of the list I gave you. The first thing that you did was move your knee and the last thing was lean back.”
“They were close!” Poison exclaimed.
“But not simultaneous,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“I can’t do that many things at once,” Poison complained.
“Of course you can, but you have to teach your muscles the actions until the other part of your brain can just trigger the entire sequence from that other type of memory. Come over here,” Elizabeth said gesturing toward a fallen log where Hetark had placed the saddles.
He looked over at them from where he was grooming the horses and gave Elizabeth a strange look when she had Poison sit on a saddle, straddling the log.
Elizabeth said, “All right, Poison, close your eye and take these reins in your hand,” and she placed the thin leather straps into Poison’s hands. “Picture yourself riding down the trail, on your left is an open grass field, can you picture it?”
“Yes,” Poison answered with her eye shut.
“Good, you’re riding your horse at a trot; suddenly you see a slither in the path, turn left, NOW!”
Poison hauled her hands left to pull the reins and turn the horse. She moved her right knee left, and leaned back in the saddle to keep her balance, and turned her head left to watch where she was going. Everything happened simultaneously.
“You see, it is possible,” Elizabeth said quietly.
“What do you mean... oh, now I see, all those movements were things you do te turn a horse abruptly,” Poison reasoned.
“Yes, but here’s the point of this discussion, I am learning fast, but it’s not in the reflex part of my memory yet. Only repetitive practice will make it useful in most real situations. My advantage lies in this, I can start the repetitive practice immediately, and I know what I’m practicing is correct."
“That’s the part I’m curious about, how are you gett’in my moves down so perfect, it’s as if ye’re me at a moment when you throw,” she said, frowning in thought.
Elizabeth gave her a small tilted smile. “Exactly, I’m copying you, efficiently. Let’s practice some more,” she said standing up and throwing a dagger from her crouched position as she stood, it hit the tree and stuck.
Hetark walked up and observed the practice briefly.
Elizabeth practiced each throw ten to twenty times before moving to the next.
“Come te learn someth’in, country boy?” Poison asked with a grin.
“Hello to you, too, Slither,” Hetark replied.
“The name is Poison, don’t ferget it, boy,” she replied.
“I’m older than you are, girl, besides, some slithers are poisonous,” Hetark replied.
Poison turned on the knight with an appraising look and said, “Older, by a couple years, possibly, but that doesn’t matter, even if you had ten more years te practice there are some things women are better at than men, like knife throw’in. It takes a grace and speed you clumsy men can’t duplicate.”
Hetark stepped near Poison and picked up a dagger as he got ready to take a throw at the implied challenge.
“Don’t get so close te me, remember what I warned you about in the tavern,” she said, misinterpreting his intentions.
“I remember the two things you said; now I’ll ask two in return. First, what makes you think I would ever be interested in touching you? Second, what makes you think you could stop me if I tried?” Hetark walked toward the tree as he asked the questions and once there he turned and faced Poison, the tree trunk to his left.
Elizabeth stopped and watched. She knew these two had to learn to respect one another or there would be no peace the whole way to Myrnvale. She just hoped they didn’t kill each other while learning.
“Take out one of your knives and I’ll bet that you can’t stick it in this tree, if you are unsuccessful then you owe me an apology and a kiss. If the knife hits the tree then I will cook and care for the horses, by myself, for the rest of the trip to Myrnvale,” the knight said simply.
With a smile of triumph, first because he admitted he wanted to kiss her, which confirmed her belief in all men’s motives, and second because he could not possibly win, Poison flicked her wrist and a knife sprouted in her hand. She launched it instantly at the tree next to Hetark.
As she moved the knight quickly stepped into the path of the oncoming knife and with lightning reflexes he used a move that Poison had never seen duplicated… and snatched the streaking blade from the air.
Poison gasped and stared incredulously at her knife held casually in his rough hand.
He walked forward calmly until he stood before her and reached up as if to touch her face, but he stopped just before his fingers reached her skin and he looked deeply into her one good eye. She readied herself to give up the kiss she had promised if she lost, but then Hetark said, “And what makes you think I want to kiss you?”
He spun and threw her knife overhand at the tree as hard as he could. The knife flashed across the clear space and with an echoing ‘thwack’ it landed next to her original dagger mark. The blade sunk into the hardwood trunk nearly to the hilt. “You win,” he said, his voice dripping sweetness as he walked away.
Poison stood silently looking at the embedded knife. Then suddenly she started pulling knives and launching them at the tree, faster and faster, anger fueling her speed. She drew a nearly perfect circle of twenty knives around the one Hetark had thrown. Eventually, she stopped.
Elizabeth wasn’t sure if she stopped because she ran out of knives or volcanic anger, but she bet it was the knives.
Poison stomped away toward a nearby hilltop. Elizabeth waited a few moments to let her calm down and then approached.
When she reached Poison Elizabeth asked, “Are you angry because he beat you?”
“Yes, no… I’m not sure.”
“Would you have let him claim his kiss?”
“Yes, he won,” she exclaimed.
Elizabeth smiled, “But, in some ways, you would have won because you would have the knowledge that you were right about his motives.”
Poison was silent.
“So what makes you angry now?” Elizabeth prompted.
“He didn’t want me, he SCORNED me. He could have taken his kiss and he didn’t want it,” she ranted, her voice quivering with rage. Her hand went unconsciously to her scar, patch and missing eye.
“So you’re mad because he is honorable and wouldn’t want to kiss you against your will,” Elizabeth said as if trying to understand the logic of Poison’s reaction.
“I said I wouldn’t have stopped him,” she stated defiantly, and then added, “I guess I’m too ugly.”
“It isn’t because of your missing eye, Poison. If he had kissed you wouldn’t you have felt superior? He would have fit your version of a male animal, and he knew it. Now you’re angry because you were wrong, and nobody likes to be proven wrong, do they?” Elizabeth posed.
“No,” Poison said, her anger cooling as Elizabeth’s thoughts began to roll around in her mind.
“You underestimated Hetark, it’s easy to do. Come on, I think it’s time we ate,” and Elizabeth turned back toward the camp and after a moment, Poison followed.
The next morning Poison watched Hetark from the fallen log as he packed up the camp equipment. Sh
e watched the way he cared for Elizabeth’s things, how he made sure she was always comfortable, and the way his eyes followed her wherever she went. A small smile of triumph marked her face.
When they were on their way again Hetark took the lead while Elizabeth and Poison rode along behind. Poison slowed the pace until they were out of the knight’s earshot. “Did you know Hetark is in love with you?” She said abruptly to Elizabeth. “That’s why he didn’t kiss me.”
Elizabeth considered her response for a moment before answering. “I’m married, and Hetark is an honorable man, he just cares for me as a good friend.”
“If you could see the way ‘e looks at you when yer not watch’in, you would believe me,” Poison replied.
“When two people go through as many hardships as we’ve experienced together recently, a bond is forged; that is the love you see. Hetark and I will never be more than best friends,” Elizabeth answered.
“Then you are happy with yer husband and will stay with him?” Poison asked.
“I love my husband dearly, but he and I can no longer be together. He died a short time ago and in respect for his memory I will take no other mate,” Elizabeth said softly.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean te open healing wounds, forgive me,” Poison apologized. They rode in silence for a short time, both deep within their thoughts and then Poison asked, “Ye’re not a simple merchant’s wife, are you?”
“No,” Elizabeth replied and watched Poison from the corner of her eyes.
“I feel like I’ve stepped into events beyond my understand’in,” Poison stated, she looked at Hetark’s back ahead of them, “and he’s a great knight, not a serving man.”
Elizabeth didn’t answer, she just watched Poison’s sharp mind as her logical thoughts dropped into place.
“Ye’re learn’in from me fer more than simple protection, ye’re go’in te fight.”
Still Elizabeth did not answer; she just let Poison’s thoughts continue.
Finally, Poison reached the logical conclusion to the path her thoughts followed, she looked closely at Elizabeth and said, “You’re that Lady Ardellen, aren’t you, the sorceress.”
