01 - The Price of Talent (15 page)

              It started like all my other attempts. I stared at the snow and tried to focus my anger and frustrations at the snow. Like always, it didn’t work. My failure made me actually get angry and frustrated, which gave me something more concrete to focus into the snow. But unlike my previous attempts, where the emotions burst forth destructively, this time I was able to control myself and feed in a moderate amount of energy to melt the snow. My first attempt being a little less controlled than the second. I would like to say that this was due to some miraculous breakthrough, like my discovery that emotion acted as a trigger for me. But instead, it was familiarity. Because I had obliterated so many snowbanks and ice puddles this winter, I was familiar with the frustration of failure. Because I was familiar with it, it lacked the impact that it used to have. So instead of losing my temper, I merely was annoyed at my continuing failure. This helped me control my energies and melt, but not destroy, the snow bank on my second attempt.

              I know, it sounds unimpressive, but it really was significant progress.

              So, as I got out of bed and changed into my clothes, I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. Even having the same old breakfast I had had for weeks of oatmeal, cold cuts and cheese, couldn’t sour my mood.

“You seem jubilant,” said Ross, who was also finishing up breakfast.

“I am honestly,” I replied. “Not only is it my birthday, but I have finally made some progress on the exercises you wanted me to do.”

“Excellent, I had been wondering how things were going,” he said, “especially considering the number of mysterious holes in the snow pack I had noticed around the property.”

“Yeah, I have been focusing on snow banks and frozen puddles,” I said.

“That also explains why the puddles seem to be growing in size and depth,” said Ross with a smile.

“Well, you win some, you lose some. And sometimes you blow a larger hole in the ground than was there in the first place.” I said jokingly.

“Given your experience with the candle and the training dummy, that doesn’t surprise me,” said Ross with a smile.

“But yesterday I managed to melt the snow without blowing a hole in the bank.”

“That’s excellent. Sounds like you are making some progress.” Said Ross. “When you can melt ice and snow consistently without destroying it, consider retrying the candle exercises again. Still, better to keep it outside until you’re sure you have it under control.”

“Ok, though Moira and Sapphire might not approve of that use of their candles.” I said.

“That’s why you shouldn’t tell them about it.” Said Ross. “Actually, I had been meaning to mention that to you. I’ve noticed you’ve been keeping your little practice sessions private. This is a good thing and I recommend you continue to keep this part of yourself private if you possibly can. Not everyone will be as understanding of your newfound abilities as I am.”

“Yeah, I noticed that you aren’t forward with your abilities either.” I said.

“Life is easier if people think that you’re just a very good doctor, rather than magically gifted.” Said Ross, with a faraway look in his eyes. “So, better to keep some things to yourself, at least for now.”

              Having finished our breakfasts we then began cleaning up our mess and washing our dishes. As we were finishing up, Devlin walked in wiping sleep from his eyes.

“Happy birthday Tyr! Morning Ross,” said Devlin.

“You remembered!” I said with a smile.

“Of course I did. You are the only person young enough here to actually look forward to your birthday,” said Devlin. “Some of us have to count the passing years by the grey in our hair and beards.”

“Oh please, you aren’t that much older than my father was,” I said. “Besides, considering no one can best you in sword play, it’s not like you are a tottering old man yet.”

“This is true, but the art of swordsmanship is as much experience and skill as it is athletic ability,” said Devlin. “I have no doubt that soon I will be one of those old soldiers who groan every time they stand up and can predict the weather with the pain in their joints.”

“Still, aging is better than the alternative,” said Ross. “You are looking surprisingly spry for a man injured in battle this past fall.”

“That’s as much to do with your skillful doctoring as it has to do with any youthful exuberance on my part,” said Devlin.

              And with that, Devlin sat down to eat a small breakfast and Ross and I headed off to our usual chores. Even though it was my birthday. It was also time to muck out the animal stalls in the barn. Since the winter had been a snowy one, the animals had been spending more time in the barn then they were used to and thus the barn needed more frequent mucking out. After that unpleasant task was taken care of and I had cleaned off my boots, I headed in for a quick lunch, followed by archery practice and sword practice with Devlin.

              Archery went smoothly. It helped that I was the only one willing to brave the elements to go out and practice. Moira was also not around, but that was because she was out hunting again. With the long winter, our stores of meat were dwindling. We were in no danger of running out, but Moira figured it was as good a reason as any to go hunting. Besides, with everyone home in the longhouse, she left it to others to set snares near to home, and she went much farther afield to find game. It was not uncommon for her to be gone for a few days on long hunting trips. When she first started to go on the long trips I had gotten worried, but Devlin had laughed it off.

“Kid, Moira is not one for sitting down and waiting out the winter. She is also not one to watch the winter stores dwindle without action. And, most importantly, she gets stir crazy faster than anyone I have known. She’ll be back when she feels like it, or she makes a big kill. So don’t worry about it.”

              He was right too. She always came back, sometimes with a brace of rabbits, sometimes with a deer or some other game.

              Still, between the persistent sleet and Moira being out and about, it did mean I had the range to myself. This gave me the freedom to run through my ranges. Starting at 25 yards, and then moving out to 50, 75 and 100 yards. At 25 I was able to hit the center ring most of the time. But my accuracy and grouping got worse as I moved to the longer distances. At 100 yards, I only hit the target half the time. I still had trouble adjusting for wind and weather. Still, I could tell I was making progress, and that was something.

              Apparently though, I tarried longer at the archery range than I had intended because I was startled when I heard Devlin approaching me.

“You going to show up for Sword practice kid?”

“Oh, sorry, in the sleet it’s hard to tell what time it is,” I said.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” said Devlin. “When there is no visible sun, you can’t read how high it is above the trees.”

              Truth be told, now that I did some reckoning, it was more likely that Devlin had gotten bored in the longhouse and come out early. Hard to blame him really. With the spring coming, the freeze thaw cycle had resumed and that meant Jarvis, Bevan and Tiernan had a lot to occupy their time. Sapphire spent her days making candles, cheeses, checking the stores and generally managing our consumables so that we wouldn’t run out or lose too much to spoilage. And, as I mentioned, Moira was away hunting. That just left Ross and Devlin in the longhouse, and Ross usually spent his free time making pills from dried herbs or reading his supply of books. Over the years, apparently, Ross had collected quite a few treatises on medicine, history and other subjects that had been pilfered from merchants on the highway. Seemed an odd thing to take until you realized how much time you spent indoors in the winter. It was then that Ross’s storytelling and book readings broke up the monotony of long winter nights.

“You know, since it’s your birthday, you probably didn’t need to spend all day working,” said Devlin.

“Yeah, but there are things to do. Also, not having to muck out the stalls tomorrow, is a great present to give myself today,” I said.

“So, you feel up for some sparring today?” Said Devlin.

“Yeah, let me just collect the arrows and store the archery gear and then we can start,” I said.

              Collecting the arrows was easier in the snow and sleet. Dark arrows show up much better on snow, even dirty snow, than they do on grass and dirt. I was pleased to see that I hit the 100 yard target 6 out of 10 times. One better than my last effort. And with the arrows collected, I hoofed them and the bow over to the shed and collected the sparring swords and their padded coverings.

              When I came out, Devlin was waiting for me on the pitch, grimacing at the sleet. He always looked at bad weather like it was a personal affront. Mostly, I think, it just gave him something inconsequential to complain about.

“This weather is shit,” he said bluntly. “But I think it will work to teach you a valuable lesson.”

“Oh?” I said. “What’s that?”

“The value of sure footing, and how to take advantage of unsure footing,” he said with a smile.

“I would imagine slipping and falling in a sword fight could be a fatal mistake,” I said.

“Yes, it can be,” said Devlin. “You have to adjust how you fight in uncertain footing. You need a broader, more stable stance. And the only way to work that out is to practice in muddy, icy, or in our case sleety, weather conditions.”

              He started his lesson by showing me some basic stance and footing adjustments to make. But most of the late afternoon was spent with actual sparring. To prove his point on footing, Devlin spent most of the sparring relatively stationary. Letting me approach and attack. Most of the time I would slip and slide around, which would leave openings for Devlin to give me a smack with the padded sword. It was only towards the end of the practice session that I started getting the hang of a more cautious approach with steadier footing. I still got smacked a few times, but they were fewer and further between.

“See, you’re getting it,” said Devlin. “If you run and hop around on uncertain footing you are much more likely to slip and fall. Even a small slip will get you out of position and can prove fatal.”

“Yeah, even with your warning me ahead of time, it was harder than I thought to get used to the footing,” I said.

“Once you get used to doing something, you tend to keep doing it,” said Devlin. “A sword fight is not a place to be rethinking strategy. It’s why we practice so much. You have to get used to differing conditions and differing strategies. Otherwise, small changes in environment can fatally throw off your game.”

“My new set of bruises certainly proves that,” I said with a grimace.

“Bah, I never clipped you that hard,” said Devlin. “These padded practice swords are nothing. Try taking a hit with a mace wearing chainmail. Now that hurts.”

“Uh, isn’t that fatal?” I asked.

“Depends on where they hit you,” said Devlin with a smile. “But let’s call it a day for now. Given how the winter went, it looks like, despite being the spring Equinox, there will be a few weeks more of this sloppy wintery garbage to deal with before spring truly arrives.”

“Yeah, just let me put this stuff away and then I’ll join you inside,” I said.

“Don’t spend too much time staring at puddles Tyr, I believe there is a birthday dinner planned,” said Devlin.

              On my walk to the shed, I decided not to spend too much time ‘staring at puddles’. I put the swords and pads in their places and quickly snuck behind the shed to practice melting snow. Since my break through, every attempt had been getting easier. This time I was able to quickly melt the ice on a puddle. So, building on my success, I found a larger target, a large snow pile created by snow falling off the roof of the shed. Unlike the puddle, this much larger target resisted my initial efforts. Meeting a worthy foe in this snow bank, I refocused and put out an even greater effort. This time I succeeded in dimpling the surface of the pile that was closest to me. This was progress, but not as much as I was hoping.