01 - The Price of Talent (8 page)

Chapter 8.

“Wake up kid, it’s time for sword lessons… Apparently.”

“Huh? What?”

“Look, do you want to learn how to swing a pig sticker or not?”

“What? Moira?”

              And that’s when things came into focus. Or more specifically, when I pulled my head out from under the covers. After meeting with the Boss yesterday, I spent the rest of the day taking care of my chores as normal. Then food and bed. I almost had forgotten about learning how to use a sword. But, apparently, Moira had not.

“Is… Is the sun even up?” I asked.

“Yes, just. Which means we are running late,” Moira said tersely. “Now are you going to get out of bed or not? We need to take care of the sword training before breakfast. Then it’s to the farm as usual.”

“Oh… I see.”

Get the hell up you lazy bastard or I will turn in your hand and let Moira thwack you one where it counts.

You too?

Yeah, me too. Now get up moron.

              And with that I got up, cleaned up, grabbed my sword, and headed out to the field. It was surprisingly cold out there, and the leaves were turning in the trees. Given the sun had only just come up, it back lit the orange and yellow in the leaves. It would have been beautiful if I was in any condition to enjoy it. Unfortunately, waking up early left me in no mood to enjoy the scenery.

“Wow, it’s cold out.” I said.

“Yeah kid, fall hits here pretty hard. This close to the mountains we get it earlier than most. This means that once we get done with this foolishness involving swords, we can get on to what will really keep us alive all winter, namely laying in a proper harvest and seeds for next spring. Now head over to the shed and grab a couple of the wooden practice swords.”

              I had been in the shed many times in the last week, it’s where we keep all the farm implements needed to tend the crops. But I had never seen any swords in there.

“Uh, where in the shed are they?”

“In the back kid, they’re just wooden staves with cross pieces.”

“Oh, those. I thought those were fence posts.”

“Fence posts don’t have leather grips kid.”

“Huh, I guess I never looked closely at them.”

              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 past, 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.”