by N.D. Bailey
Growing familiar with the sword, Pip practiced his forms. Although they were poorly executed, they were powerful and effective. He had landed a trump card with this find. This sword wasn’t dependent upon long hours of training. It made the worst of swordsman into a master. It was as if the sword itself possessed the ability of a gifted teacher. Pip had never been this good. He was climbing the walls with excitement. In his mind, he visualized himself as king of the mountain. His finest hour was ahead of him. He was on the verge of becoming somebody—someone that history would remember.
A Discovery
The rain clattered on the roof of the palace courtyard and water dripped off the verdant ivies, philodendrons, and large cane trees that graced the edges of the courtyard. The clap of the thunder contended with the clatter of steel swords for possession of the air waves, as the latter clashed against each other under the covered courtyard where Nadora and a skilled knight practiced.
Having spent the day in discussing the Sword of Power and making a list of residents within the proximity of the castle walls and the outskirts of the city, King Chess, Windsor, Navi, Gilmanza, Nuvatian, Nimri and Cozbi walked out of the castle onto the covered patio where Nadora and her sparring-partner were practicing. Her petite but muscular frame flowed with graceful form, demonstrating compact power mixed with finesse.
The natural light of the sun was fading and night was creeping upon them. The oil fueled lamps had been lit by the servants; the courtyard glowed with soft light. The dimness enhanced her finer features; her smooth skin, fiery eyes, and auburn hues in her hair.
“Bring the gentlemen their rides,” King Chess ordered to a guard.
“I wish I could tell you that I will have knights on the castle grounds tonight, but it is already late. But I will send them to the castle grounds in the morning,” Gilmanza affirmed.
Mounting their horses, they spoke a few last words. Nuvatian looked once more toward Princess Nadora as she skillfully blocked her opponent’s sword, parrying it to the left. As he turned to ride off, Nadora glanced in his direction, inadvertently giving her opponent an opportunity. Suddenly, her assailant’s sword smashed into her right hand, knocking her sword free and giving him the undisputable victory.
“What are you doin’?” scolded her trainer. “I just killed you because you were not focusing. You cannot allow distractions to divert your attention!”
Nuvatian, witnessing her defeat and scolding, snickered with just enough pitch that Nadora could hear him. Then he and the others turned their mounts around and rode off into the rain.
Nadora, now humiliated and angered, picked up her sword and flew into a revengeful and skillful swordfight with her pretend adversary, forcing him back into the wall. Being backed into a corner, he blocked her next blow, ran under her sword and moved quickly away from her.
Pulling off his helmet, he brought a swift end to their practice. “That will be enough for today.” He shook his head at her aggression. Her father, observing from a distance, shook his own head and chuckled, her spirit reminding him of himself in his younger days.
The six warriors rode along the water soaked road, their horses splashing a muddy mixture into the air. The rain pelted the riders, soaking their clothing, making them cumbersome and heavy. The faint light of the moon faded away and darkness enveloped them. Like a thief robbing nature of its precious jewel, a cloud hid the moon, stealing the riders of its guiding light. Windsor and Navi rubbed the orbs on their staffs, giving them a measure of light.
