by Lory Kaufman
Like the first time, Feltrino turned around and saw Hansum. He turned his horse and, pulling Guilietta’s behind him, began galloping away along the shore.
“You’re a little ahead of where you were before, Master Hansum,” Sideways said. “You’re a better rider now. Slow down a bit, so you don’t spook him.”
“Right,” Hansum said, sitting back down on the saddle. He watched Feltrino feverishly whipping his horse. And poor Guilietta, with her wrists tied to the saddle, she appeared to be holding on to the draft animal’s mane for dear life. Hansum tensed, forcing himself not to bolt to her aid. Then, just as the two horses disappeared into the tree line along the river, Hansum saw Guilietta turn and look directly at him. Hansum kicked his horse’s flanks.
“Not yet,” Sideways warned. “Steady, Master. Steady.” Hansum waited for another half minute before Sideways said he could go. When Hansum’s horse finally got to the place where Feltrino entered the woods, Sideways added, “Now trot. Just a bit faster. That’s it. We need to time it so events happen as close as possible to the way they did before.” After about three minutes, Sideways said, “Pedang at the ready.” Hansum, keeping his eyes looking warily about, put out his hand. The A.I. sword extracted itself from his belt and floated into his hand. “Stop here,” Sideways said. This is where the path split into two, one trail leading to the river. Hansum remembered how the heavily-leafed branches of the trees formed a dense canopy over this path, creating a tunnel of foliage until it opened up. “This is where Feltrino is trapped by a cliff over the river, with only this way out.”
Hansum pulled the reins to turn his horse into the dark passage-way. The bright light of the open river was about a hundred paces ahead. When he came along this path the first time, he found Feltrino well back from the opening, but couldn’t assume it would happen similarly. A minute later, almost to the end of the tunnel, he felt Pedang rise a little higher.
“En garde,” he heard a babyish voice come from the sword.
With Pedang at the ready, Hansum walked the horse out cautiously. Inching into the light he found Feltrino staring at him. He was in the same place as before, on his horse, almost to the edge of the water. Guilietta’s horse was beside him. That hadn’t changed.
‘Good,’ Hansum thought.
“Romero!” Guilietta said, almost happily. This was like before. Then she said, “I thought it was you. Thank Cristo.” That was different.
‘Oh oh,’ Hansum thought.
Feltrino stood up on his stirrups, trying to see if anyone was behind Hansum.
“Just let Guilietta go and you can leave,” Hansum said as he had done before. “Captain Caesar and his men can’t be more than ten minutes away.”
“You’re still alone?” Feltrino said, smiling. “That’s enough time for me to kill a lowly apprentice.”
“Please, there’s no need.” Guilietta said, begging. “I’ll go with you willingly.”
“You’ll go with me willingly or otherwise,” Feltrino said lightly. “I shall be back for you in a trice,” and he dropped the reins for Guilietta’s horse and pulled out his sword. “My blade is getting a good washing of blood today, apprentice. Ready?”
Without thinking, Hansum allowed the sword hilt to flip back over his palm, causing the blade to twirl around in a big circle, coming to rest again at the ready. Feltrino dug in his heels, pulling his horse up short and stared at the apprentice. Previously, Feltrino had kicked his horse into an attack.
“Mistake, Master Hansum,” Pedang whispered.
‘Fool!’ Hansum cursed silently to himself, remembering Marcon telling him to lose that move. He had shown Feltrino he had better-than-beginner dexterity with a sword. ‘From now, everything is going to be different.’
“Oh ho!” Feltrino called appreciatively. “Where did one such as you learn that?”
Hansum didn’t care what chewed up time. Talk or fight, he was just trying to get Feltrino trapped here till the Podesta’s men arrived.
“I taught myself,” he answered, speaking as modestly as he could. “When I was a child, with a wooden sword.”
“A wooden sword?” Feltrino repeated with amusement. Then he let his horse take a few steps forward. “Maybe,” Feltrino added. “Maybe not.” And with that he kicked his horse hard. As the horse bolted forward, Feltrino raised his sword point directly at Hansum’s chest.
“You control the sword first, Master Hansum,” Pedang said, “so I can see what you’ve got.”
Feltrino’s horse was next to Hansum in four powerful strides and Hansum saw the Gonzaga was going to make the same attack as before. At the last possible moment, Feltrino whirled his horse onto Hansum’s flank, swinging his blade over his head in a big circle.
“Prima!” Pedang said loud enough for Feltrino to hear.
The blade came at Hansum’s unarmored chest with the added energy of the horse’s momentum. But Hansum’s blade was there, in the “prima” defensive position. Then Hansum loosened his grip, to make the sword vibrate. He needed to feign a weak wrist, but the truth was, he had not only strengthened and conditioned his arms for the past months with training, the doctors had authorized Medeea to give him some nano bits to cause bone and tendon growth. Hansum’s wrist and hand now had the extra mass and strength of a medieval soldier who had trained since childhood.
Feltrino had his horse step just out of range.
“You have a weak wrist, apprentice . . .” Feltrino said. “When I kill you, I will take your horse as well as your looker. And of course, I’ll still have the girl.” This dialogue was slightly different than before.
“Take the horse anyway,” Hansum said, quickly sliding off of it, as he had done the first time. “Please, just leave Guilietta. I mean, you’re right, Feltrino. I can’t beat you in a sword fight. But killing me will take too long and I don’t want us swinging swords around Guilietta.”
Feltrino laughed. He leaned forward in the saddle. “Such gallantry for the girl, but no manly pride? You don’t want to fight?”
Hansum stepped aside, clearing the path off the small spit of land, confident Feltrino wouldn’t accept the easy way out. “Just take my horse and leave,” he said. “And keep the looker.”
“Perhaps you are right,” Feltrino said. “My father would value me bringing a horse over a girl.”
Feltrino peered at Hansum, squinting his eyes and cocking his head, and then he smiled again.
“Okay, here he comes,” Pedang said.
“Oh, what the hell, I’ll have it all,” and, as before, the Gonzaga dropped off of his mount and rushed at Hansum, slashing his sword back and forth in a blur. The first time he lived this, Hansum just held his sword to center, but since he’d been able to study Feltrino’s tech-nique, he knew just when to sidestep and deflected the first three wild blows.
“Still want to do it on your own?” Pedang whispered.
“Yeah,” Hansum grunted, as he repelled another blow and pushed Feltrino’s sword away.
Feltrino stepped back and looked brightly at Hansum, giving another appreciative nod, and almost looking like he was about to say something. But, of course, that too was a feint. The Gonzaga quickly stepped in with three more blows to the right, a half feint further right, and then a back turn that took him onto the now exposed left side of Hansum. The wide arching blow would have sliced into the back of most opponents.
“Seconda!” Pedang’s voice said, and Hansum’s sword was there, blocking his opponent. This time Feltrino pushed off, stepping back out of range.
“Luck or skill?” Feltrino asked, this time not so lightly.
“We’ll find out,” Hansum answered under his breath, once again going to en garde.
Feltrino, now looking more cautious, returned the en garde, and took a small step forward.
“Stretto passo,” Pedang’s voice came from nowhere, naming Feltrino’s move. Feltrino took two more small steps. “Stretto passo, stretto passo,” Pedang repeated, his infant voice sounding high and airy.
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br /> Feltrino looked right at Hansum, confused at not being able to connect the childish voice with Hansum. He took another half step forward.
“Stretto . . .” Pedang began, and Feltrino stepped back, confusion turning to frustration and anger. Hansum remained impassive.
Then, stealthily as a cat, Feltrino took a quick step forward and lunged, not trying to get to Hansum’s flesh, but only giving a distracting smack to Hansum’s blade.
“Battuta,” Pedang’s voice chimed, labeling this move as well.
Hansum parried it easily, staring into Feltrino’s eyes, as if to say, “I know you are trying to frustrate and trick me, but that will not happen.”
“So, I was right to doubt you? Who was your teacher, pray tell?” Feltrino asked.
“He’s monologuing, Master Hansum,” Pedang whispered. “Another distraction. Don’t answer.”
Hansum said nothing, keeping his eyes and stance relaxed. That’s when Feltrino’s attitude changed. He scowled.
“You bore me now, apprentice,” and then he screwed up his face and put his free hand to his mouth, biting his thumb. “I bite my thumb at you,” he said, and spat.
Hansum felt his eyes foolishly follow the white blob and the blur of Feltrino’s sword was suddenly coming at him. Feltrino’s arms, legs and sword all moved constantly in a seemingly random manner. It took all Hansum had to keep up his defenses, but he was not able to find an opportunity to counter with his own initiatives.
“Now I have the measure of you,” Feltrino said, and the Gonzaga prince picked up the pace. Blow after blow, thrust and counterthrust, Feltrino came on, moving Hansum left then right, forcing him to retreat and feinting only a few times to entice him closer in for the kill. Several times Hansum found the tip of Feltrino’s sword close to his tunic, one time avoiding it only by stepping back towards the water. Hansum moved his feet to his right, trying to get back to open ground, but found Feltrino already blocking his way. Unbelievably, Feltrino increased his stroke tempo again. Now, Hansum could do nothing but keep his sword moving, desperately trying not to think, hoping the hours of conditioning would allow his reflexes to respond automatically. But as each of Feltrino’s strokes fell, Hansum found himself closer to the cliff’s edge.
“Prima, Seconda, Terza, Quarta, Quinta, Sesta, Settima,” Pedang’s tiny voice mewed, both commentating and giving advice as to which blocking guard to use, but the child-like speech no longer seemed to distract Feltrino.
Suddenly, Hansum’s heel caught on a rock and he found himself tumbling backwards, his buttocks hitting the hard ground with a thump. He felt Pedang try to assert himself, but he held on to the sword too strongly and Feltrino took advantage by lunging at Hansum’s chest. Hansum’s eyes went wide with surprise as he felt the steel tip of his enemy’s blade against his tunic. Hansum tried to roll, but it was too late. Feltrino thrust his sword even harder. The blade bent. Guilietta screamed, “ROMERO!” and Feltrino withdrew the sword, bringing it over his head in triumph and giving a mighty whoop to the sky. Then he went silent, his eyes puzzled. There was no fresh blood dripping from the blade. He looked down and there was Hansum, staring up at him, surprised, but not bloodied. His tunic was not even ripped.
“Good job, Sideways.” Hansum panted, seemingly to the air.
“Thank you, sir,” came a disembodied voice.
“Romero!” Guilietta cried with relief and joy, the fingers of her tied hands making a small sign of the cross. “Thank Cristo.”
This seemed to enrage Feltrino anew. He turned and ran at his downed opponent, his sword coming straight for Hansum’s head.
“My turn,” Pedang said. “Just hold on, Master.”
Hansum felt Pedang fly up and meet Feltrino’s slash, and then twist, redirecting the strike into the ground. Feltrino grabbed his sword’s hilt with two hands and brought it back the opposite way, in a large arc, again aimed at Hansum’s head. Hansum felt his wrist turn as Pedang levitated one hundred and eighty degrees to deflect the blow in the other direction. Feltrino stepped back and lunged straight and, with Hansum still in the seated position, Pedang blocked a mighty thrust with what looked like an easy flick of the wrist. Feltrino lunged again and again, furiously attacking with unmeasured stabs, seemingly without any concern for defense. But each of his sword blows was easily turned away. There was no way Feltrino could keep up with Pedang’s instantaneous A.I. reflexes.
The all-out attack went on for over a minute. Feltrino’s chest was heaving with exhaustion. He backed up, at last something looking like fear showing in his eyes.
“Get up,” Pedang said. “Quickly,” and Hansum scrambled to his feet. “Do what I tell you,” the A.I. sword said quietly. “En garde.” Hansum put Pedang in front of him, tip slightly raised, right foot forward, left back. He was calm. Feltrino’s chest was starting to settle, but there was still a worried look about him. “Circle right,” Pedang said, and Hansum did so, just as he had learned in class. This robbed his opponent of some of his sword length when he thrust his weapon. Feltrino came to en garde, pivoting to keep Hansum square to him. It was Feltrino whose back was to the water now. “Step forward,” Pedang squeaked, and Hansum felt Pedang shoot out like a missile. It was all he could do to hold on. Feltrino parried, but you could see he was surprised at the speed and took another step backward.
“Stocatta,” Pedang’s high voice called, and the blade thrust low under Feltrino’s sword, touching his stomach. You could see Feltrino tighten, believing he was run through, but then Pedang backed up, as did Hansum. They couldn’t kill Feltrino because they knew that, in his future history as a noble in Mantua, his calmer, mature self would influence many things.
“Mandritti tonda,” Pedang said as he cut above Feltrino’s sword, right to left, so quickly that the blade tip was in one position, and then immediately the next. “Reversi tonda,” as he cut the other way. The idea was now to just keep him here until the Podesta’s men could arrest him.
Feltrino’s eyes were now unmistakably wide with fear. He glanced behind him at the water.
“Don’t let him jump,” Hansum said, and Pedang flew in a circle around Feltrino, dragging Hansum with him and forcing him to forget his footwork. But amazingly, Feltrino did not counterattack. He just stepped back away from the water, confused.
“I hear the Podesta’s men,” Sideways broke in, his A.I. senses more attuned than a human’s. “Six minutes is all we have to hold him here.”
“Yield, Feltrino,” Hansum said. “The Podesta’s men are almost here.”
“How does a lens apprentice play with me so?” he rasped, his eyes pleading.
“Yield,” Hansum repeated.
Finally, the humans could hear the rumble of horses across the water. Each looked, a momentary truce called. There were ten horses in the distance, galloping along the shore of the bay towards them. The Podesta, Mastino della Scalla, was among them.
“All right, apprentice,” Feltrino said, forcing his composure. “I cannot yield, but shall leave the girl and retreat.” Hansum didn’t say anything, but cocked his head, like he was asking for more. “And I shall leave the looker,” Feltrino conceded, swinging the telescope case off his shoulder and dropping it.
“I don’t think so,” Hansum said. “I must keep you for the Podesta.”
“I CANNOT YIELD TO A PEASANT!” Feltrino screamed, his body tensing and the tendons on his neck bulging. He reached down with his free hand and took a long dagger from its sheath, now aiming two weapons at his foe. “Kill me if you can, apprentice!”
The Podesta and his men were now galloping into the trees. At the pace they were moving they would be there in less than four minutes.
“Yield, Feltrino!” Hansum said. “Yield and live!”
“I’D RATHER DIE,” and he ran, completely without form, toward Hansum. He slashed his sword and dagger, screaming at the top of his lungs. But Pedang intercepted the sword’s blade, slid down to the hilt and flung the sword out of Feltrino’s hand. It flew into the r
iver. Feltrino, armed with only the dagger, and now at close quarters with Hansum, thrust the blade toward Hansum’s throat. It was stopped dead as Pedang’s steel instantly appeared in front of it. Feltrino twisted his body, trying to make a second stab, this one at Hansum’s gut, but found his blade once again blocked.
“Yield, Feltrino, yield!” Hansum shouted, almost pleading.
Feltrino looked down, exhaled and relaxed, his arm with the dagger going limp.
“Romero,” Guilietta called, relief in her voice.
Hansum looked over at Guilietta and smiled. Feltrino looked at him, over at the girl and then back to Hansum. His arm with the long dagger tensed. Hansum saw it, but did not flinch. He already felt Pedang moving to intercept. Pedang levitated to defend Hansum, and then, with a flick of Feltrino’s wrist, the dagger flew in the opposite direction.
In horror, Hansum wrenched his head around and saw the dagger spinning through the air. As if in slow motion, he watched it turn tip-over-end several times, the point finally coming into contact, penetrat-ing, and then embedding itself in its target. Like a hot knife through butter, it entered Guilietta’s thigh and went straight through into the horse. Guilietta and the horse screamed as one and the animal reared. Hansum instantly dropped Pedang and sprang towards the horse, grabbing for its reins, but its hooves came down onto Hansum’s chest. Hansum felt Sideways stiffen, to protect him from the flailing hooves, but was the A.I. strong enough to keep him from being crushed? Hansum fell to the ground, the full weight of the horse about to land on him. Sideways instantaneously transported Hansum two feet to the side as the hooves cracked the ground. Hansum had himself up and trying to stop the horse from bolting into the forest, getting in front of the terrified beast. He waved his hands frantically, but this only caused it to rear again.
“ROMERO!” Guilietta screamed, halfway on and off the horse. Hansum knew if he let the animal run off, Guilietta would end up being dragged and crushed as the animal ran through the trees.
