And with that, I headed out to the shed. Not surprisingly, the practice swords were just where Moira said they would be. I was pleased, but I think something was less pleased.
What is the point of those wooden half timbers?
I think the theory is that if I learn using a fake sword I am less likely to decapitate myself.
So, because you suck, I get relegated to needless appendage? That hardly seems fair.
“Kid, just leave your real sword propped against the shed. I don’t want you to so much as draw that until I know you aren’t going to be a danger to everyone around you with it,” Moira said as I exited the shed.
See?
Yeah, this is bullshit. Still, I get to watch you screw up first hand, so I won’t get bored.
I went and joined Moira on the green that was both practice yard and archery range. Space was not limited in the deep forest, but Moira tended to use all arable land to grow crops. She would rather have too much stored away in the cold cellars than too little. And given that the winters in the mountains can be harsh and long, it’s hard to blame her.
“Now kid, give me one of those practice swords and take the other one for yourself. Today we are going to cover the absolute basics. First, are you right handed or left handed?”
“Right handed.”
“OK, then stand with your right leg forward and your left leg behind it. You are going to be looking at me over your right shoulder. If it is more comfortable you can cheat a little. But be warned, the more you square your shoulders to me, the greater the target you are presenting to me.”
“So, right leg in front, left behind, and looking at you over my right…” I said while I was getting into the position.
“Yeah, that’s basically it. And why do we stand like this?” she asked.
“To present a smaller target.” I replied.
“Good, glad you’re listening.” Said Moira with a smile. “Now let’s discuss how you hold your sword. See how you are standing, slumped shoulders, sword loosely held in your hand with the tip in the dirt? Don’t do that. A sword is not a farm implement. A good sword is usually a family heirloom and handed down from generation to generation. If it is forged by a master with quality steel, it could be worth more than your parents’ farm was. So treat it with respect.”
You hear that you bastard? Treat me with respect. I’m no farm implement! HAH!
Not now please, I’m trying to pay attention to what she’s saying. If I’m ever going to help with the actual highway work, I’m going to need to know all this stuff.
Bah! You’re a farm implement. Not a high quality piece of artistic workmanship like me.
If you ever want to be actually used and not just be a decorative addition to my little room, shut up and let me listen!
Blah! Blah! Blah! Whine, snivel grump! Get with the learning then…
“Kid, are you listening to me?” Moira asked with a look of annoyance.
“Yes, sorry, it’s just a lot to take in. So you were talking about how I hold the sword?” I said, not meaning it to sound like a question, even though that was how it came out.
“Yes, I was. Specifically, the three on-guard positions. The high guard, mid guard and low guard.” Moira said. “Each guard should feel natural to you. In low guard, your hand is almost on your thigh. There are different schools of thought on blade position, but we are going with the basics, so I want you to keep the point aimed towards your opponent in this position. Mid guard is where your hand is at hip level, and the point of your blade is on level with your opponent’s head. The high guard has your hands at mid chest, again, there are different schools of thought on blade position, but I want you to keep it close to vertical with the point up in the air.”
Having explained these basic three stances, or on-guard positions, she the proceeded to make me take these stances and corrected all my many mistakes in them. Fortunately, through this, my sword was blissfully silent. Apparently, it found this more interesting than mocking me.
“Good, you are starting to get the basic stances. Tonight, after your chores are done, and before you start practicing your archery, I want you to run through these stances again. Tomorrow morning, I am going to quiz you on them and you have to be perfect before I start teaching you basic blocks, parries or strikes.” She said.
“What’s so important about the stances? Seems like those other things you mentioned are more useful.”
“Well, everything flows from your basic stances or on-guard position. You should have them memorized such that you don’t have to think about them. You don’t have time in a sword fight to think about stance mechanics. You need to read your opponent and react. A mistake can kill you. So we are going to drill them till you don’t have to think about them.”
“Oh…” I said, the full enormity of the situation hitting me.
“Yeah, ‘Oh’” Moira said. “So remember to practice these positions tonight before you practice your shooting. But now it’s time for breakfast and chores.”
The day passed as most, it never did warm up and I was a little chilly. This brought up another issue I had not been thinking about, namely that I had been living in a few spare bits of clothes that the outlaws had lying around, and these were mostly appropriate for early fall weather. With the promise of colder weather in the near future, and me with no winter wardrobe, I was going to have to come up with something warmer to wear. So at midday, when I came in for lunch, I resolved to talk to someone about it.
After washing the soil off my hands and face, I walked into the kitchen area of the longhouse and found it mostly deserted. Moira was off hunting and apparently took lunch with her, Jarvis, Bevan and Tiernan were out manning the most recent waylay point on the road, so only Sapphire, Ross, and surprisingly, Devlin were sitting at one of the tables having lunch.
“Tyr, come join us for lunch,” said Ross.
“Thanks! Just let me grab some food and water and I will,” I responded.
I quickly ran over to the board, sliced some bread, cheese and meat, made a sandwich and came and joined them. Sapphire was sitting on one side of the table, with Devlin and Ross on the other side. Devlin, due to his injuries was taking up most of the bench, and with Ross sitting on what was left, I instead sat next to Sapphire and started eating.
“So, tell me kid, how did your first day of sword practice go?” Asked Devlin.
“I learned a lot about stances and on-guard positions.” I responded.
“Good! A proper foundation is essential. Too many people are sloppy with the basics which makes them easy prey. Glad to hear Moira still remembers her lessons despite almost never using a sword anymore. Not much call for it in hunting after all. You only use a blade to finish off a wounded animal,” said Devlin.
“Well other people do, Moira rarely needs to. Though some people make sport of hunting wild hogs with spears and swords,” said Ross. “It used to be a popular pastime of the younger clergy and city lords. The idea being that it isn’t fun if you aren’t in danger.”
“How is hunting pigs dangerous?” I asked.
“Harrumph!” Sapphire said. “Wild boar aren’t like the pigs you raise on the farm, kid. They weigh hundreds of pounds more, run almost as fast as a horse and have dagger-like tusks coming off their lower jaws that they try to gore you to death with as they run you down. Hunting them with spears and swords is plain stupid. Better just to put an arrow in their eye before they see you.”
“Ah but then you miss all the wonderful fun of the fight, Sapphire!” said Devlin. “Did you know in some countries that they fight bulls or even buffalo with nothing more than a red cape and a few swords? Now that is a sport! After all, how is it any fun if the animal has no chance to fight back? And the bulls don’t have the little 6-8 inch tusks of wild boars, they have horns longer than your arm!”
“That just sounds stupid to me. Better to kill from a distance and not risk your life,” Sapphire said dismissively.
“In days long pas
t, they used to have arenas where people would fight exotic monsters, large animals like lions or tigers, or even other people for the amusement of the crowds.” Said Ross. “There were professional arena warriors who were trained to fight in very theatrical ways to put on a good show for the crowd. Lots of death and blood in that sport. Though in the later years of the country that spawned that practice, the animals and monsters were replaced by political prisoners and those who were captured in battle. Slaves and prisoners are a lot cheaper to procure than monsters and other exotic wildlife.”
“I’ve never seen a lion.” I said. “I had read that they are like giant yellow cats with big ruffs or manes around their necks.”
“That’s just the male lions.” Said Sapphire. “And they just sit around all day. It’s the females that hunt, and they do it in packs. Unlike their lazy male counterparts.”
“True enough, or so I have read.” Said Ross. “But big cats like that are very rare in these parts. You are more likely to see a bear than a mountain lion in these parts. It’s too cold here for the large cats to survive. Mountain lions and bobcats are much smaller than their southern cousins.”
“Speaking of it getting colder… Uh… I don’t have any winter clothes.” I said.
“Well, that’s a problem.” Said Devlin. “When Moira comes back, I will talk to her about using some of the deer skins she has from all the hunting she has been doing to make you a set of warm winter clothes. A fur hat and a fur lined leather jacket will go a long way to keeping you warm this winter. Also, go check the spare clothing for some thicker winter breeches and boots as well. We should have a few lying around in your size, we have been able to liberate some from some passing merchants bringing fall fashions to the cities.”
“Thanks! My old clothes are getting a little tattered and a bit short in the sleeve and leg.” I said.
And with that we finished our lunches and all headed back to our various chores. Everyone except Devlin and Ross. Devlin headed back to his chambers with Ross to get his wounds redressed. He seemed to be coming along well though. He was walking without needing a cane and the bandaging was a lot smaller than it used to be.
“Devlin’s healing well. In another week he will be good enough to start heading out to run ambushes again,” said Sapphire, who had apparently walked up behind me while I was watching Devlin and Ross heading back to his room in the back of the longhouse.
“Yeah, I’m glad. I hate to think he got injured on my account,” I said. “Is manning the ambushes always that dangerous?”
“Robbing tax collectors and passing merchants is always dangerous,” said Sapphire. “But not as dangerous as what we faced ambushing those Inquisitors.”
“Oh, why is that?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Merchants and tax collectors usually have a few guards, but show them you have them covered with archers and they surrender soon enough. Their money and goods are not worth their lives.” She said. “But Inquisitors are a different sort all together. First, they are incredibly well trained. Your average guard is basically just a big guy or gal who is paid to look impressive and bully pick-pockets. Inquisitors have been trained for years in fighting with a variety of weapons. Secondly, guards know when they are beaten and will give up. Even the expensive ex-military types know enough to give up when they’re outflanked and out of position. But Inquisitors work for the church. They think they are doing god’s work and will fight to the death if they think it is in the best interest of the holy Empire. Which is exactly what they did when we ambushed them. Fanatics usually can’t be reasoned with.”
“Oh… I see.” I said.
“Yeah, had we known they were Inquisitors from the start, we would have likely let them roll on by. We aren’t in the habit of risking our lives for prisoners, kid. You’re just lucky that the twilight made it hard to tell that there was a person in the back of the cart and not a tax collector’s chest.” Said Sapphire.
And with that cheery note, she wandered off to her various chores. Not knowing what else to do, so did I.
As I walked outside the chill of the afternoon hit me. It had clouded up while I was eating lunch and looked like a storm was coming. Under these ominous skies, I hurried through my afternoon chores, and practiced my swordsmanship closer to the longhouse than normal. Unfortunately, the archery targets were on the other side of the field, so I had little choice there. I managed to shoot a couple of quivers of target arrows before it started to sleet on me. But with the sleet coming down, I cut my practice short, collected and put away my bow and arrows and headed inside. I really needed to get some real winter clothes…
Chapter 9.
I awoke the next morning to Moira glaring at me again.
“Get up kid, we got a lot of sword work to do before we get to our regular work.” And with that she left me to get dressed.
I got up and put on my new winter clothes. Before bed last night, I had headed into the storerooms and found some clothes that would work for me, at least until Moira made me some properly warm winter clothes. What I had found was a pair of lined leather pants, thick padded shirt and the leather jacket. Moira had promised me a fur lined jacket, gloves and hat designed for the heart of winter in the near future, presumably when she had enough leather cured, but for now I made do with what I had found. The clothes were comfortable enough, if stiffer than the cotton stuff I had worn all summer and early fall.
Moira and Sapphire had set upon me afterwards, critically reviewing my selections and insisting on making some minor alterations, which they did in short order. Apparently, they both had some experience with clothes and as seamstresses. They also both shared a dislike of wasted time, preferring to make the alterations themselves instead of trying to teach me how to do it. So after a few try-ons they had made the clothes I had procured fit well enough, with some room for me to grow.
The experience was a little embarrassing. Growing up on the farm, the only woman I had ever disrobed around was my mother, which hardly counts. Fortunately, they afforded me enough privacy while I changed that my modesty was not too terribly tarnished. They were nice enough not to poke too much fun in my direction during the process too. The closest they came to making fun of me was to point out that in my lined leather outfit, I almost, and they stressed the word “almost”, looked like a real outlaw.
As I finished dressing I grabbed my sword and headed out to the yard.
Oh yes, you are looking much more like an outlaw. Now if you could grow a real man’s beard instead of that peach fuzz, oh and put on some muscles, they may stop calling you kid.
I’m stronger than most boys my age. Farming is physical work and builds strong muscles.
Ha! There is a big difference between farmer muscles and sword fighter’s muscles. You are still built like a boy used to wielding a sickle and pulling weeds.
I do spend most of the day farming. No one else wants to do it, and it’s really important to have our own source of food.
Oh yes, you keep telling yourself that. The only outlaw that can’t shoot a bow or wield a sword. Certainly not a burden on anyone.
I’ve been praised for my farming skills. Besides, I’m also learning to use both the Bow and the Sword; soon enough I’ll be able to help with the robbing business.
Yeah, sure. Just as soon as you know what end of the sword you stick people with and can hit a target from more than 50 yards away.
Hey, I’m working on it! I managed to hit the center ring from 75 yards yesterday!
And how far away were Jarvis, Bevan, Tiernan and Sapphire when they hit the Inquisitors while they were partially shielded by the cart they were hauling you in?
Uh… Maybe twice that.
Yeah, exactly. Keep practicing KID! Hah!
While we were having this conversation I had headed out to the yard. The day was clear and cold, and I was happy to have the heavier clothes. The leaves were all turning from rich oranges and reds to brown and grey as fall was making its way towards winter.
It would not be long before we had a real frost, and it was about time we took in the last crops and hay for the animals. I guess that was just more on my to-do list. After all, Moira seemed more determined than ever to put away meat for the winter. The smoke hut and the curing vats were in constant use. She really was quite a good hunter all things considered.
“All right kid, today you learn basic parries, blocks and strikes.” Said Moira as I approached her. “Now go get the practice swords and I will show you.”
And with that she ran me through a bunch of basic sword striking drills. First basic strikes and then the footwork to go with them. I had no idea how important the footwork was. But I only needed to be knocked off my balance so many times by Moira parrying my strikes to realize that balance and footwork were more important than arm strength.
“What’s the difference between a parry and a block?” Moira asked me in the middle of practicing the overhand strikes.
01 - The Price of Talent Page 8
