01 - The Price of Talent (9 page)

“Thanks! My old clothes are getting a little tattered and a bit short in the sleeve and leg.” I said.

              And with that we finished our lunches and all headed back to our various chores. Everyone except Devlin and Ross. Devlin headed back to his chambers with Ross to get his wounds redressed. He seemed to be coming along well though. He was walking without needing a cane and the bandaging was a lot smaller than it used to be.

“Devlin’s healing well. In another week he will be good enough to start heading out to run ambushes again,” said Sapphire, who had apparently walked up behind me while I was watching Devlin and Ross heading back to his room in the back of the longhouse.

“Yeah, I’m glad. I hate to think he got injured on my account,” I said. “Is manning the ambushes always that dangerous?”

“Robbing tax collectors and passing merchants is always dangerous,” said Sapphire. “But not as dangerous as what we faced ambushing those Inquisitors.”

“Oh, why is that?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Merchants and tax collectors usually have a few guards, but show them you have them covered with archers and they surrender soon enough. Their money and goods are not worth their lives.” She said. “But Inquisitors are a different sort all together. First, they are incredibly well trained. Your average guard is basically just a big guy or gal who is paid to look impressive and bully pick-pockets. Inquisitors have been trained for years in fighting with a variety of weapons. Secondly, guards know when they are beaten and will give up. Even the expensive ex-military types know enough to give up when they’re outflanked and out of position. But Inquisitors work for the church. They think they are doing god’s work and will fight to the death if they think it is in the best interest of the holy Empire. Which is exactly what they did when we ambushed them. Fanatics usually can’t be reasoned with.”

“Oh… I see.” I said.

“Yeah, had we known they were Inquisitors from the start, we would have likely let them roll on by. We aren’t in the habit of risking our lives for prisoners, kid. You’re just lucky that the twilight made it hard to tell that there was a person in the back of the cart and not a tax collector’s chest.” Said Sapphire.

              And with that cheery note, she wandered off to her various chores. Not knowing what else to do, so did I.

              As I walked outside the chill of the afternoon hit me. It had clouded up while I was eating lunch and looked like a storm was coming. Under these ominous skies, I hurried through my afternoon chores, and practiced my swordsmanship closer to the longhouse than normal. Unfortunately, the archery targets were on the other side of the field, so I had little choice there. I managed to shoot a couple of quivers of target arrows before it started to sleet on me. But with the sleet coming down, I cut my practice short, collected and put away my bow and arrows and headed inside. I really needed to get some real winter clothes…

Chapter 9.

              I awoke the next morning to Moira glaring at me again.

“Get up kid, we got a lot of sword work to do before we get to our regular work.” And with that she left me to get dressed.

              I got up and put on my new winter clothes. Before bed last night, I had headed into the storerooms and found some clothes that would work for me, at least until Moira made me some properly warm winter clothes. What I had found was a pair of lined leather pants, thick padded shirt and the leather jacket. Moira had promised me a fur lined jacket, gloves and hat designed for the heart of winter in the near future, presumably when she had enough leather cured, but for now I made do with what I had found. The clothes were comfortable enough, if stiffer than the cotton stuff I had worn all summer and early fall.

              Moira and Sapphire had set upon me afterwards, critically reviewing my selections and insisting on making some minor alterations, which they did in short order. Apparently, they both had some experience with clothes and as seamstresses. They also both shared a dislike of wasted time, preferring to make the alterations themselves instead of trying to teach me how to do it. So after a few try-ons they had made the clothes I had procured fit well enough, with some room for me to grow.

              The experience was a little embarrassing. Growing up on the farm, the only woman I had ever disrobed around was my mother, which hardly counts. Fortunately, they afforded me enough privacy while I changed that my modesty was not too terribly tarnished. They were nice enough not to poke too much fun in my direction during the process too. The closest they came to making fun of me was to point out that in my lined leather outfit, I almost, and they stressed the word “almost”, looked like a real outlaw.

              As I finished dressing I grabbed my sword and headed out to the yard.

Oh yes, you are looking much more like an outlaw. Now if you could grow a real man’s beard instead of that peach fuzz, oh and put on some muscles, they may stop calling you kid.

I’m stronger than most boys my age. Farming is physical work and builds strong muscles.

Ha! There is a big difference between farmer muscles and sword fighter’s muscles. You are still built like a boy used to wielding a sickle and pulling weeds.

I do spend most of the day farming. No one else wants to do it, and it’s really important to have our own source of food.

Oh yes, you keep telling yourself that. The only outlaw that can’t shoot a bow or wield a sword. Certainly not a burden on anyone.

I’ve been praised for my farming skills. Besides, I’m also learning to use both the Bow and the Sword; soon enough I’ll be able to help with the robbing business.

Yeah, sure. Just as soon as you know what end of the sword you stick people with and can hit a target from more than 50 yards away.

Hey, I’m working on it! I managed to hit the center ring from 75 yards yesterday!

And how far away were Jarvis, Bevan, Tiernan and Sapphire when they hit the Inquisitors while they were partially shielded by the cart they were hauling you in?

Uh… Maybe twice that.

Yeah, exactly. Keep practicing KID! Hah!

              While we were having this conversation I had headed out to the yard. The day was clear and cold, and I was happy to have the heavier clothes. The leaves were all turning from rich oranges and reds to brown and grey as fall was making its way towards winter. It would not be long before we had a real frost, and it was about time we took in the last crops and hay for the animals. I guess that was just more on my to-do list. After all, Moira seemed more determined than ever to put away meat for the winter. The smoke hut and the curing vats were in constant use. She really was quite a good hunter all things considered.

“All right kid, today you learn basic parries, blocks and strikes.” Said Moira as I approached her. “Now go get the practice swords and I will show you.”

              And with that she ran me through a bunch of basic sword striking drills. First basic strikes and then the footwork to go with them. I had no idea how important the footwork was. But I only needed to be knocked off my balance so many times by Moira parrying my strikes to realize that balance and footwork were more important than arm strength.

“What’s the difference between a parry and a block?” Moira asked me in the middle of practicing the overhand strikes.

“Uh, blocks are designed to stop a strike and parries are designed to pass them by you.” I said.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Moira replied. “And why would you choose one over the other?”

“Well, when you blocked my strikes, the sword seems to rebound a little in my hand and when you parry my strikes I seem to follow the momentum of the strike out of position. So… you block when you want to sort of shock them before you counterstrike and you parry when you want them out of position when you counterstrike?”

“Essentially yes. As you get better, you will learn counterstrikes for both techniques. When you get really good, you will be able to direct your opponent’s sword where you want it, creating openings almost at will. I can teach you the standard counterstrikes, but you will need to wait until you are better and Devlin is healed to start learning the more advanced techniques like setting up your opponents.” Said Moira.

“So, and I mean no offense here, he’s a better swordsman than you?” I asked.

              “Hah!” She replied. “Kid, he is as better a swordsman than me as I am a better archer than you. I’m not embarrassed to admit it either. He spent years learning the ways of the sword in his former life. He has taught sword fighting for many years. The sword in his hands is an extension of his arm. I’m teaching you not to wield a sword like a farming implement, he will teach you how to fight with it.”

“Oh…” I said. “Sounds impressive.”

“It is. I’m happy to be the best archer here, but he is the best swordsman. Fortunately, we need archers more than swordsman. It’s easier to hunt with a bow, and you only use swords in highway robbery when things go horribly wrong.”

“Oh, ok.” I said.

It made perfect sense. From what I had heard, the general idea was to block the road, fire a couple of arrows from cover in the woods to show the people being robbed they were covered and everyone just hands over their stuff and goes about their day. You would only need to use a sword if you were the guy manning the barricade and someone pulled a weapon on you.

“Well, kid, that is enough for the day.” Said Moira. “This evening, before archery practice, I want you to run through all the basic strikes, blocks and parries I have shown you today using your actual sword. It is time to get used to its weight, reach and balance. Also, pay attention to your stance and footwork. You still have sloppy footwork and that could get you killed.”

“OK.”

“And now put away the swords and go do some real work. We need to start taking the harvest in before the first frost comes.”

              And with that, the rest of my day passed much like all my days since I had come to be the youngest member of this small clan of highwaymen. Some of the work took more time than I expected due to my shoulders being a little stiff from the sword practice. But all in all, it was an enjoyable day. I was quite glad for having the heavy clothes as the wind picked up in the evening. Likely there would not be too many more days before we got our first frost.

              By the time I finished my chores and had brought in the last of the harvest, it was getting dark and legitimately cold. My guess was that we brought the last of the harvest in at the right time. Still, I had some work to do before I could go in and have some dinner. And I knew someone, or something, that would not let me forget it.

You done lollygagging around you hayseed?

              This was my greeting as I came inside to fetch my sword for practice.

‘Cause if you are done, maybe you could get around to knocking the dust off me and swing me around.

              As I headed back to the practice field the wind was blowing, the leaves were coming off the trees, and generally, fall was rapidly descending into winter. You could actually feel the temperature dropping. Oddly enough, for the first time in a long time, I had a bit of a headache brewing.

You sure you want to be out here? It’s really cold and my head’s pounding.

Man up kitten, you’re not getting out of this this time. You’re going to wield me and you’re going to like it.

OK, fine, no time like the present.

              So I drew my sword forth and started by practicing my stances. Immediately I could feel the difference in balance between my sword and the practice weapons.

Why the hesitation? Go attack that practice dummy! Cut it in half!

I’m pretty sure that I’m just supposed to review the basics right now.

Oh, come on! You can practice swings in the air or into a dummy. What’s the difference?

Moira told me to do the former and not the latter?

Did you mean that to end in a question? Because I just hear a chicken clucking.

That doesn’t even make sense.

              Through the ongoing dialogue in my head, I ran through my stances, blocks, parries, strikes and the like. It was going fine, except that the constant needling from the sword was making my headache worse.

Is that all you have pansy? A few strokes and posing? You gonna grow a pair tonight and work on that practice dummy?

I told you, Moira didn’t tell me to hit the dummy, just practice my basics.

She also didn’t tell you to scratch your ass either, but you do that fairly regularly.

You be quiet and let me concentrate. You’re not helping my headache at all.

I don’t know… You going to man up and attack that dummy?

You know what, fine! Let’s go over to the dummy. Let’s get in trouble with Moira. Let’s wear out our welcome.

OOOoooOOOooohhh! Aren’t we touchy?

              It was not my proudest moment. But between the headache and the sword’s needling I gave in and went over to the dummy. It was a straw dummy made of a post and wrapped with straw and rope to resemble a person. It was there so you could practice your distance and accuracy.

Ahhhh… That’s more like it.

             
I started out with checking my stance, lining up a basic overhand strike starting from a high guard. My first few swings were tentative. Just getting my distance and feeling what it was like to hit resistance with my strokes. On my first few strokes I realized that I had been holding my sword too loosely. When I finally connected with the dummy, the sword wanted to hop out of my hand. I adjusted my grip and had a few more practice swings.

So, when are you going to actually swing me in earnest? Because this pussyfooting around is nice and all, it’s alleviated my boredom, but you’re hardly testing your limits here kid.

Really?! You still aren’t happy? FINE! Here’s a harder one!

              My headache had continued to grow throughout this time. The needling, the cold, the wind, it was all bothering me and making it worse. I admit, I gave in and started swinging away at the dummy. Hard.

Hell yes! This is how I was meant to be swung. With emotion! With power! HIT THAT THING HARDER! DO IT NOW PANSY!

              The wind was really blowing at this point. It felt almost like it was coming at me from all directions. Worse, it was even colder than I had expected. Also my head was pounding. Really, it would have been wise to quit for the day. But I didn’t.

GOD DAMMIT WILL YOU EVER SHUT UP!