by Guy Antibes
“Two touches is enough for today,” Gio said.
Pipa reluctantly withdrew.
“Bow to each other.”
Trak had no problem doing so and kept the smile that he felt within from his expression. Pipa gnashed his teeth as he bowed and stalked to a group of four of the boys.
Gio took Trak aside. “I’ve not seen you practice that form before.”
“Oh that.” Trak tried to casually cover up the mistake. He didn’t want to show all of his forms, but he hadn’t even thought to keep them from his sparring. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“I saw Pipa twirling at the start and thought I could do something with that tendency. It worked better than I expected.”
Gio squinted his eyes. “Good thinking.”
The next day, Gio had them work with staffs. Trak watched the others warm up and he used the basic forms that they used as well. The forms for staff that Neel had taught him were as numerous as those for the sword. Dalistro hadn’t sparred with him with a staff, so he could restrain his moves as much as he wanted and no one would notice.
Trak’s forms were rusty and he kept them rough, even as he forced his muscles to move smoothly through his exercises. He needed to think of binding his movements together like a snake moved, sinuous. That was a new word he purposely looked up in his dictionary. His fighting had to be sinuous, like a snake.
The next two weeks, Trak took much more punishment that he intended, but now his classmates would underestimate his abilities. He took a staff up to his rooms and worked on smoothing his forms in the evenings for both sword and staff.
~
Dalistro had changed his manners class to just before lunchtime and Sereni’s classes began to constantly run longer. Trak found himself unable to break away for any reasonable length of time to visit Honor.
He sat in the sitting room that Sereni used for their class.
“Today we will learn to dance.”
Dance! Trak thought. He only knew the country dances that he learned in Greenbrook.
Sereni clapped her hands and a woman entered holding a lute. “This is Darna, who will provide us with the tempo that we need.”
“Tempo?”
Sereni clapped her hands in time to some tune in her head and then began to dance by herself. “The tempo drives the dance steps. A faster tempo indicates a faster dance so what happens with a slower tempo?” She lifted her eyebrows at Trak.
“You dance slower.” He could figure that out not even knowing the word. Trak never liked Sereni playing with him.
“So, we hold hands and face the same direction.” She held out her hand and Trak took her hand and rose reluctantly to his feet.
“Follow my steps.” She stepped forward and then back and then crossed over to face him.
Trak recognized these as forms. He knew forms for weapons and poses for magic. Dance steps were no different and he knew he had an exceptional ability at learning new forms. Soon they were dancing to the accompaniment.
“You are marvelous,” Sereni said when they finished and rose on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
Trak didn’t know if it left a mark, but he knew his face was flaming red. If that was her goal at every session, she certainly succeeded.
“Are we through?”
He had to make a concerted effort not to stagger out. Sereni’s kiss was a heady thing and not something to be encouraged. She knew what kind of effect she had on a young man such as himself. He thought of a predator when he thought of Sereni, but he couldn’t get the kiss out of his mind. Perhaps an impromptu session with Honor might cure him.
He ran over to her house and knocked on her door.
“Oh, out of school? I see a smudge of something on your cheek,” Honor said. She pulled out a handkerchief and rubbed it off, showing the lip rouge to Trak.
“A kiss as a reward for learning dance steps.” He waited for Honor to berate Sereni.
“Dancing? How wonderful. Become proficient, Trak. I imagine you were very good.”
That wasn’t the response he expected of the woman. “My kiss?”
“Ah, no, dancing is always good practice for poses. In fact, in a magician’s duel, the poses flow together, like your sword forms or like a dance.” She turned around and walked into her house. “Follow.”
Trak shook his head, totally bewildered by Honor’s comments, and did as she commanded after she led him into their workroom.
“Sit and copy. That is your priority, even if you can only get away for half an hour. You need your own book of the basic poses so, no matter what happens to me, you have the foundation that you need.”
“But what about the words of power?”
Honor’s face took on an even more pinched face. “After you’ve copied the poses.”
“Not before?”
She just glared at Trak.
“Okay. I’ll leave my portfolio here so I can come here as quickly as I can.”
That comment brought a ghost of a smile out of Honor. “Good. I have extra pages. Let’s get to work.”
~
“Bepiro and Pipa!” Gio called out two of his students. “You will fight Bluntwithe in a three cornered fight.”
Trak looked up from his warm-up forms. “Two?” The two fought with such different styles that Trak’s main concern was what kind of injuries he would sustain with the both of them fighting against him.
Gio stood in the center of the conservatory. The winter sun lit up the practice ground in white light, reflecting off of the snow that littered the grounds around the structure.
“In war, it is every man for himself, and if two team up against another, that is fair game. Two touches and you’re out. The last man wins,” Gio said as he raised his hands and dropped them. He quickly backpedaled out of range.
All three snapped their practice swords up to their foreheads, and then swept them to the side. Trak immediately backed up to make sure he could see both of his opponents. He looked at Bepiro and then at Pipa. To his surprise, Pipa began a withering attack against Bepiro. It was all the larger man could do but retreat, retreat, and retreat.
Trak could see that Pipa had immersed himself in the match as he touched Bepiro the first time and then twisted around to deliver a bone-breaking blow aimed at Bepiro’s neck or head right after Bepiro stumbled. Trak jumped to Bepiro’s defense and parried Pipa’s blow.
Pipa backhanded his sword at Trak, who had already withdrawn. Pipa followed and attempted the same strategy he had just successfully used against Bepiro. Trak didn’t move back, but slapped Pipa’s sword away with a parry and scored a point on him. Bepiro moved up behind Trak and poked his sword into Pipa’s stomach.
“Pipa, out.” Gio said.
Trak jumped back while Bepiro dropped his sword on purpose and bowed to Trak, who tapped him lightly on the arm.
“Bepiro, out. Bluntwithe wins.”
Pipa stalked out of the conservatory. Trak bowed to Bepiro, who nodded in acknowledgement.
Gio took to the center of the conservatory again. “We have just witnessed two instances of honor, Trak’s defense of Bepiro, and Bepiro’s recognition of that by yielding the match. It is touching that this happened, but if this was on the battlefield, what should have Trak done?”
Trak noticed that Gio used his given name for the first time.
One of the boys in the back said, “Trak should have run Pipa through rather than block his sword, and then attack Bepiro.”
“Exactly, Trak, do you understand?”
He nodded. “But this was a sparring match and Bepiro would have been injured. I lose my partner.”
Gio smiled. “That is as good a reason as any. Tomorrow we will get back to staff work.” Gio turned to Trak. “Since you won, you can rake the field.”
Bepiro stayed in the conservatory while Trak repaired the gouges in the dirt floor and rolled it smooth.
“I appreciate what you did,” Bepiro said. “I thought Pipa would break my neck. We’ve never be
en the best of friends. You and I haven’t either, so why did you do it?”
Trak didn’t quite know why he did himself, but he said the first thing that came to mind. “I remember when you crowned me and I thought I wouldn’t wish such a thing on anybody and you are not my enemy.”
“Not anymore,” Bepiro said. “We are off tomorrow. Perhaps we can stroll around the market in the afternoon and I will treat you to dinner.”
Trak smiled. “I’d like that.” His victory had not been in the duel, but right there when the first of Gio’s students extended a hand of friendship.
~~~
Chapter Fourteen
THE MARKET IN THE ESTIA SECTOR OF ESPOZIA WAS VERY nice, but that only made Trak curious.
“What is it like in the Ozitzian side of the city?”
Bepiro shrugged. “It is where the lesser people live.”
“Lesser people?”
“Of course. Servants, common workers, lowlifes, those kind live over there.”
Trak scratched his head and wondered about Ozitza. “Do they have markets over there?”
His friend frowned. “I suppose they do.”
“Then let’s go over there and look around. I’ve been in Espozia for months and haven’t set foot over there.”
Bepiro laughed. “I grew up here and I’ve never crossed the river.” He looked at Trak appraisingly. “Perhaps it might be fun.”
They took one of the myriad of ferries that scuttled back and forth, dodging ships heading up river and down river and arrived at an old dock. Trak looked up and down along the river’s edge and noticed that most of the docks looked old. These were made out of wood, whereas stone docks lined the Estia side.
“Where is a good market to visit?” Trak asked the ferryman.
“The largest is just a few blocks to the east.”
Both of them paid a tip to the ferryman, who gave them a funny look, and then they plunged through the dockside buildings further into the heart of the Ozitzian side of Espozia.
They walked for blocks without finding a market. The houses on each side were only two stories high and made out of brick, but many of the streets were dirty with refuse. Houses varied in appearance. One or a few would sport freshly painted trim and the steps kept clean and then there might be some that were decrepit. As they walked, the nice houses ended and the streets narrowed. Trak was worried that neither of them carried any weapons.
The ferryman had purposely led them astray. Trak hoped that his directions were given in jest rather than malice. He stopped a woman scurrying along the lane.
“We were told the market was in this direction.”
She paused long enough to cackle. He looked more closely in the gloom. Her white hair stuck out like straw from beneath her hood. She pointed south. “That way, young man. I would hurry if I were you. This is not a kind district of Espozia. I must go.” She shook off his hand and shuffled on her way.
Bepiro shrugged. “What do we do?”
Trak’s companion was probably a couple of years older, but he yielded to Trak’s judgment. “Go south. If we don’t enter a better area, then we head east towards the river. The docks are sure to run this far.”
“They do!” Bepiro said as they continued their walk.
“It wouldn’t hurt to move a little faster.”
Bepiro nodded so the boys picked up their pace.
In the middle of the next block five men oozed out of a dark alleyway.
“Lost your way, gents?” the largest of the men said.
Trak heard the grind of a knife being unsheathed from a metal sheath.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Trak said. He tried to keep the fear that froze him to where he stood out of his voice. He had heard of travelers being waylaid by robbers enough times in Greenbrook. When the travelers fought with the bandits the fights varied in results, but they never ended well for both parties. He backed up, moving Bepiro back along with him. “We just want to go to the market.”
The men laughed. “There’s no market this way.”
“A woman pointed us in this direction.”
“Indeed I did, deary,” the woman exited from the alley. “I think it would be wise for you to empty your pockets, by taking off all of your clothes and giving them to Amo, here.” She nodded in the leader’s direction.
Trak took a few breaths and pushed Bepiro farther away from him. “No.”
He used the same pose that had propelled Honor into a wall back in Pestledown and shouted out the word of power. He did it three times and all of the assailants, including the woman were on the ground, moaning.
“Run!” They moved forward for half a block and then ran east towards the river. Neither of them slowed up until they had reached the band of nicer houses and then they slowed down to a quick walk.
“Y-y-you used magic!” Bepiro said as soon as he retrieved enough breath.
Trak nodded. “That’s why Dalistro brought me to Santasia. Magic is outlawed in Pestle.”
“But you’re not a member of the Magicians Guild?”
“Dalistro mentioned that it was a club.”
Bepiro shook his head. “It’s a lot more than a club. You shouldn’t be allowed on the streets. Magicians are the property of the Magicians Guild and wear colored robes.”
“Then I must ask you to keep my ability secret. Can you do that?”
His friend nodded. “I will, indeed.”
Trak wondered if Dalistro could protect him from becoming a slave to the guild. Now he had to talk to Honor to verify what Bepiro had just told him.
“How influential is Misson Dalistro?” Trak said. Why did his tutor flaunt the Magician’s Guild, then? Trak decided that Santasia all of a sudden had lost its entire glamor.
“His father is the Senior. That’s the highest member of the Council,” Bepiro said. “We are privileged to use his conservatory as a practice ground. At Gio’s school, we practice underneath a tent during the winter. I thought he took you in as his ward due to your prowess with a sword.”
Trak scoffed. “I’m not much better than any of you.”
“And we are all well on our way to be the best swordsmen in Santasia. A magician and a swordsman, I’m glad we have become friends.”
Trak smiled. “And so am I. We will keep this to ourselves, right?”
“Right,” Bepiro said as they began to pass through warehouses. “We are at the river. Instead of trying to find a place to eat on this side of the river, let’s cross. I do know my way about on the other.”
It didn’t take them long before they reached the Estia side of the city.
“The next time, maybe we will take someone who knows the Ozitzian part of the city,” Trak said.
“And carry swords,” Bepiro said. “At least I’ll carry a sword.”
Trak smiled and waved his hand as if he worked a practice form. “I will, too.”
Bepiro took Trak to a little tavern/restaurant. “My older brother introduced this place to me. It’s got good food and serves as an excellent place for a discreet dinner.” He grinned as he walked inside.
Trak followed him and bumped into Misson Dalistro escorting Sereni Barrazi out the door. Dalistro blushed, but Sereni merely winked at Trak.
“Enjoy your dinner,” Dalistro said brusquely as he virtually pushed the manners tutor out the door.
“Oho, your host is playing the high life,” Bepiro said. “This is not a place that you refer to when speaking with others.”
“Then why are you taking me here?”
Bepiro laughed. “Your education has been lacking. You can’t learn everything about life from Madame Barrazi.”
“You know her?”
Bepiro shrugged. “Who doesn’t? She is a courtesan of the elite and isn’t bashful about it.”
“A courtesan…”
“You didn’t know?” Bepiro laughed again. “You might know a spell or two, Trak, but she is well known for casting spells of her own all over Espozia. I’m sure that there are few
places where Dalistro would be caught being intimate with Madame Barrazi.”
~
Dalistro showed up when Trak ate breakfast in the kitchen as he usually did.
“Last night—“
Trak waved Dalistro away. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He smiled, thinking that his reply was sufficiently gallant.
Dalistro shook his head. “Bepiro is not what he seems. He likes men better than women and it is not good for you to be seen alone with him.”
Trak felt his face heat up. “I didn’t know.”
Dalistro shrugged. “We didn’t see each other did we?”
“No, we didn’t.” Trak put his face down and concentrated on finishing his plate. He knew two men in Greenbrook that lived together and they were like Bepiro. They were nice enough and everyone accepted them in his father’s common room as fellow drinkers. But everyone in Greenbrook would talk if he walked into their cottage by himself. He knew the two men well enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about anything untoward happening, but he understood exactly what Dalistro meant.
He sat by himself in the kitchen while the servants ate at another table and walked around him. He felt very alone and very stupid. He felt very small and very young, barely starting the education he needed.
~
Sereni batted her eyelashes at Trak as he entered the sitting room for his manners lesson.
“Since I saw you last night in an intimate place, I thought we might go over how one dines at a noble or high-ranking bureaucrats dinner table.”
Trak’s face burned. “Bepiro and I didn’t—“
She put her finger on his lips. The woman made him very uncomfortable. “Dalistro told me about your infatuation with a Warishian girl. I understand that was your first time out with Bepiro. He has a bit of a reputation, you know.”
Trak wanted to say the same thing about her, but he held his tongue. “Dalistro told me.”
She gave him a funny look and then kissed him on the mouth, putting her arms around him. Trak couldn’t help but kiss back. His mind became fuzzy until she disengaged.
