The House of Yeel

by Michael McCloskey

  Jymoor gasped in exasperation.

  “Well, did Master Kasil offer herself to you? Did she make herself available to your affections? Did she…? Tell me truly, Yeel. You said she was amorous. Why would you say that?”

  “She seemed quite affectionate, actually! She keeps very little personal space, that one. Very…touchy-feely, I believe is the phrase used by your kind. Of course I was flattered, but hardly…I mean it is simply impossible that she and I, that her and me, that we together could have a meaningful physical interaction of the romantic variety!”

  Jymoor visibly relaxed.

  “Well, of course. Of course. Forgive me, Yeel. Of course you could not have any such connection with Master Kasil. Of course not. Why, exactly?”

  “Well I, we, there is no…she’s not really my type, you know.”

  “I see.”

  “Now, I really have other things to attend to. So. It is my understanding that Master Kasil will be here in mere hours. Let me show you the room where you’ll be training with her. So that you may place it in that incredible memory of yours, which will no doubt lead you there time and time again so you may continue to train with Master Kasil in the future, eventually reaching our goal of maturing you into a very deadly fighting machine capable of leading your people to victory against the invasion of countless library burners.”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay. Fine. Good. It’s all good.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Oh. Yes. Soon…I need to…”

  “Yes. That’s what I thought. You have no idea where the room is, do you?”

  “Well, the training rooms would be somewhere on the main level, since space is most plentiful there…and training requires a bit of space to maneuver.”

  “Yes, of course. Very logical.”

  “Thank you! Now, shall we find it?”

  “By all means. Maybe we can find it by the time my training begins!”

  The two wandered through the vast house looking for the training room. They proceeded clockwise from the central fountain room, first wandering outward to the perimeter and then making their way back inward again.

  Jymoor saw a dozen chambers. Some were filled with vats, others baskets, while still others held scores of fine paintings, sculptures, and intricate machines. All the rooms were well lit by glowing bars, spheres, or panels fit into the ceiling. It made Jymoor feel very safe, without a single shadow in the entire house. When they finally found a wide-open room with racks of weapons arrayed around the perimeter, Yeel stopped.

  “Ah. This is the place, I think.”

  “It certainly looks usable. Your arsenal is very impressive,” Jymoor said.

  “Arsenal? Oh dear, no. This is merely the training room. These are weapons suitable for practice only. The arsenal, well, that’s a much scarier place. I have a memory of part of it.”

  “Oh.”

  “Before I leave, one last thing. I’ve been working on a gift for you, and it’s done.”

  “A gift? For me?” Jymoor sounded timid.

  “I’ve noticed your need for sleep is slowing you down. I’ve prepared this cerebral nutrient replenisher for you.”

  Yeel handed Jymoor a wooden bottle with a cork cap. Jymoor took it and rattled it.

  “Pills?”

  “I’ve formulated the replenisher for your…for you. Take one of these tiny chemical packets each day, and you should find sleep unnecessary. I was thinking that—”

  “Wait. I take this, and I won’t need to sleep?”

  Yeel smiled.

  “Ah, that time I was able to anticipate exactly how you would echo my statement! I think I’m beginning to see the pattern here. I tell you a new piece of information, then you repeat it yourself, and that triggers your memory creation chemical. You can tell me, that’s the secret to your kind’s terrific memory, isn’t it? This repetition of what you hear?”

  Jymoor stood with her mouth open, but could not quite figure out what to say.

  “So anyway, right, the cerebral replenisher. You take one, and it rejuvenates your mind, replacing the mental supplies necessary for sustained cognition! I was thinking this would give you the chance to do some night scouting. You know, under the light of the moon? You could patrol the camp around the people we rescued from the garden at night, and get used to using your armor at its full potential. Surely you’ll encounter some nasty or two out there, but I assume that with the extra lunar power, you’ll have no problem handling it. Then, you can return through the portal to train during the day. It should keep your armor healthy, too, being regularly exposed to moonlight.”

  Jymoor jumped forward embraced Yeel.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  “Whaaaa?” Yeel foundered in Jymoor’s embrace.

  “You feel so big and strong for a wizard,” Jymoor commented.

  “Oh, well, I…oh. Just take one of the replenishers whenever you would seek sleep. You’ll be very productive.”

  “That’s wonderful! Thank you so much. I owe you so much, Yeel.”

  Jymoor almost added, why are you doing so much for me?

  “Do you mind waiting alone? I have to check back with the others,” Yeel said. “And don’t tell anyone else about the replenishers. I haven’t the raw ingredients to supply anyone but the Crescent Knight.”

  “I understand. I’ll wait here.”

  Yeel slid off in his strange walking motion that looked suspiciously like gliding.

  Jymoor waited. She walked along the wall, looking through the weapons rack. Yeel’s training room had a dazzling array. She tried out at few of the weapons, just to get their feel. Some of them were very heavy. She could barely pick up the maces without the moon armor on. After a while, she thought about going to find the arsenal Yeel had mentioned, but she didn’t want to get lost or end up doing anything dangerous.

  Finally, Master Kasil walked into the chamber. Jymoor saw a fit woman with an air of confidence, almost arrogance. Streaks of silver ran through her otherwise dark hair.

  She looked at Jymoor and smiled.

  “Hello again, beautiful.”

  “An honor, master,” Jymoor said.

  “Tell me about yourself.”

  “I’m a scout. I know the bow. I have the moon armor in my possession, but only because Yeel gave it to me, really.”

  “What do you know of the sword?”

  “Not much. I’ve had a short sword for years, but as a scout, I’ve only used it to cut through underbrush or fend off wild animals.”

  “You used a sword to cut through underbrush? Wait, don’t answer that. Never mind. What do you want in life?”

  “Well…I want…to protect my homeland. I must train to fulfill the role of the Crescent Knight, or else find someone else who can.”

  “Oh dear. So serious. What of companionship?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You like men? Women? Do you seek one? Do you have one?”

  “I…I’m just a scout. I’ve been looking for Yeel for a long time. I don’t know many men. But what does this have to do with—”

  “You’re strong. Got some sinew there. I can’t tell you how many princesses I’ve been asked to teach. Wimpy girls who could hardly pick up a fork!”

  “Thank you, Master Kasil. I think.”

  “You want to know a secret? The real men don’t want a soft woman anyway. Well, maybe a few court dandies here and there, but the real men—the warriors—they like a strong, capable woman.”

  Kasil winked at her.

  “What about Yeel?” Kasil asked.

  “What of him?” Jymoor said in a small voice.

  “What is your relationship to him?”

  “I am…his companion…his guide…”

  “Girl, speak more plainly. I heard you were sent as a sacrifice to him. Did he drink from your cup?”

  Jymoor stared at Kasil.

  “We’re close friends,” Jymoor explained. “We’ve been through a lot together!” sh
e added quickly.

  “You’re not romantically involved?”

  “We aren’t…I thought you were here to teach me the sword? You’re not here to go after Yeel, are you?” Jymoor asked. Dismay leaked into her voice.

  “Ah, so you’re sweet on him?”

  “What? Well…”

  “Of course you are! Such a powerful man. A legend. And you discovered him!”

  Jymoor swallowed. It seemed that women everywhere were constantly assailing Yeel. How could she compete with so many women for his attention?

  Master Kasil rolled her eyes.

  “Please, dear, stay focused. I promise I won’t snatch him away from you. I prefer the knights myself…and the occasional princess…but I’m not one to go after wizards. They’re too complicated. Have you heard Yeel rattle on? Oh, well, of course you have.”

  Jymoor’s world stabilized.

  “But to capture a man like that, you have to stand out! We’ll forge you into someone exceptional. How does that sound?”

  Jymoor blinked. “Why, it sounds wonderful!”

  “Good. Then let’s work.”

  Master Kasil handed Jymoor a light sword. It was thinner than the sword she usually wore, but a bit longer. The sword master held a duplicate weapon.

  “I thought one usually practiced with wooden weapons,” Jymoor said.

  “Yes, if you’re a dullard ape with too many muscles and not enough brains, training to be a footman in the infantry, ready to march into the meat grinder at the front of an attack. Thrust, chop, hack, slash. But we’re here to master the sword. Don’t worry, mine’s quite dull.”

  Jymoor accepted the tirade in silence.

  “Hold the sword like this,” Kasil said. She held the sword for Jymoor to see. “The grip should be light. It can’t be too tight, and it can’t be too loose. Over time, you’ll learn what that means, exactly.”

  Jymoor mimicked the Master’s hold with her own weapon.

  “Point it at me. Always point it at me,” Kasil said. “Here, at my heart.”

  They stood with their weapons pointed at each other.

  “In a nutshell, dear, the sword is most effective when thrust.”

  “And if the enemy is armored?”

  “Then you have to know where to thrust. Or use a mace. I’m sorry, I don’t teach the mace. A bludgeoning match is hardly ideal for the fairer sex.”

  “The moon armor makes me stronger. Did Yeel mention that?”

  “Yes, he did. And that’s good. But, as I said, I don’t teach the mace. And I’m not fond of it, either. Look, the sword is a fine weapon, and even if your intention is to bruise a man to death and break his bones inside heavy metal armor, knowing a thing or two about the finesse of a sword isn’t going to hurt you any.”

  “Of course, Master Kasil.”

  Master Kasil’s voice softened a bit. “I’ve helped knights as well, mind you, not only princesses. Learning some basics with a fast weapon will still prove helpful. Then we can pull out the greatswords and we can practice swinging the ridiculous things about for a while if you want.”

  “I want to learn whatever you have to teach me,” Jymoor said. “My other training…it isn’t going well. Maybe I haven’t the knack for it.”

  “Dung! Now to work! We’re going to concentrate on defense first. You have to be able to survive, after all.”

  “That’s the exact opposite of what my other teacher, Legrach, says. He told me to focus on killing the enemy at any cost, before he kills you.”

  “He sounds like an idiot. How many fights could you expect to live through with that kind of attitude? Go for all-out offense if all you seek is an honorable death.”

  “He’s been teaching me to wield a weapon in each hand,” Jymoor said.

  “Dung. Dung. Dung. Now, here is the basic concept. I want to thrust you straight through and through. That’s why my sword is pointed at your heart.”

  Kasil thrust for Jymoor’s heart. Jymoor jumped back, a bit too late. The dull sword poked her.

  “You see it is difficult to stop. This is why the thrust is the best technique. First, it’s very sudden and direct: you can’t see it coming like a big swing. Second, it’s harder to block than a swing. Finally, once driven home, it inflicts lethal damage. A hack or a swing may only wound an arm, but a thrust to throat or chest is often immediately fatal.”

  Jymoor nodded.

  “A thrust is clean and efficient,” Kasil continued. The master stepped forward suddenly, thrusting her sword forward. “I can thrust all day long. A wild swing, a desperate series of hacks, will tire a woman out on the field. Then she’ll be easy prey.”

  Jymoor imitated Kasil’s thrust. It felt clumsy.

  “Step forward with it for now,” Kasil said. “Then later, we’ll skip forward. You can cover a surprising distance forward very quickly when you get good at it. But today I want to start on defense. Your mission: to deflect an opponent’s thrust with minimal movement, leaving your own weapon in line for a counter.”

  Kasil started attacking. She tapped the leather over Jymoor’s chest over and over. Jymoor was stunned at the speed of her instructor. She managed to bat Kasil’s sword aside from time to time when she got lucky, but her weapon was never in line for a counterthrust.

  Kasil showed her several different defensive positions and exposed Jymoor to many different kinds of attacks. Eventually, Jymoor’s sword arm tired. Kasil had her switch hands. Of course, Jymoor was even worse with her off hand.

  When Jymoor was exhausted, Kasil backed off and let her don the moon armor. Jymoor felt strength return to her tired muscles. A wave of confidence joined it.

  Jymoor stepped out wearing greaves, breastplate, and gauntlets.

  “The helmet as well, if you please,” Kasil said.

  Jymoor donned the helmet. Kasil walked to the weapons racks and selected two greatswords. She gave one to Jymoor. The weapon was heavy, but the moon armor lent her its strength. Master Kasil was dwarfed by her greatsword, yet she somehow managed to carry it gracefully in both hands.

  “It’s not the size that matters. Or so the knight who taught me said. He was my first,” Kasil winked at Jymoor.

  “When did you learn?”

  “The sword or the bed? Doesn’t matter. The answer is the same. I was but fourteen summers.”

  Kasil cut the conversation short by dropping the sword down in an attack. Jymoor deflected it to one side, but Kasil simply spun with it, sending the huge weapon in a long arc to attack Jymoor from the other side. Even with the moon armor’s strength, she couldn’t bring the heavy weapon around in time to block it. It smashed into her arm with a clang, almost knocking her off balance.

  The pain awakened Jymoor’s aggression. She swung back angrily. The huge weapon made noise cutting through the air. Jymoor swung again, forcing Kasil back. Then she lined up the sword for a thrust.

  “Impressive!” Kasil said. Suddenly, she smashed Jymoor’s sword aside, letting her own sword fly way out of kilter, then smashed its pommel into the side of the moon helm. Jymoor staggered back and fell.

  “If you want to fight a knight, then rough play is the order of the day!” Kasil trumpeted. “Both in bed and out, believe me!” she added more quietly.

  Jymoor shook her head. Such skill! Kasil’s arms were strong, but they were hardly suitable for slinging such weapons around. Yet she could easily best Jymoor.

  “I think that’s the only time I saw your sword go out of line with my heart,” Jymoor said.

  “Of course. I can hardly skewer you through that moon armor, can I?” she answered happily.

  Kasil fought her gracefully for several more minutes. Jymoor slashed and hacked at the sword master, but Kasil always ducked, dodged, or leaped her way out of trouble. In return, Jymoor received a few nasty bruises from her opponent. Finally, Kasil raised her open hand in submission. The sword master was gasping for breath.

  “Enough. I yield. I’m not the young woman I used to be,” Kasil admitted.
/>   Jymoor pulled off the moon helm.

  “What you taught me today makes very good sense. I feel you’re a better teacher than Legrach. But I’m worried about armor. Many of the barbarians wear breastplates.”

  “The barbarians from the North I’ve encountered are seldom in full plate like the king’s knights,” Kasil noted.

  “You’ve…encountered them yourself?”

  “Yes. On occasion I’ve gotten out to see the world. Of course, I’ve been indisposed in the garden for a long while. I haven’t seen this particular army of which you speak.”

  “Their numbers are endless,” Jymoor said.

  “Anyway, they often wear helms with open faces. Their necks are exposed as well. You’ll do fine with a thrust. Or as I said, I’m sure someone could teach you the mace. Your arms aren’t as thick as tree trunks, which I believe is a prerequisite for that weapon. Unless the moon armor is completely reliable. Does it work under the light of the sun?”

  “To a lesser degree, yes,” Jymoor said. “From what I’ve heard, it’s most effective under the full moon.”

  “Very well. Keep a mace on your horse for fighting under the moon. For now, though, I’ll teach you the sword, of the faster and lighter variety.”

  Chapter 11: Skirmish

  Two weeks later, Jymoor emerged from her room at Legrach’s call. He wore a breastplate created from the shell of some giant crustacean. It made him look like a sea creature himself.

  “Quickly,” he said. “Our enemies are scouting in force. They’ve been spotted approaching Ascara-home.”

  “We’re going to leave the fortress?”

  “If we act now, we can kill them before any more arrive,” Legrach said. “At least, that’s what Vot has told us. She has spies on the mainland.”

  Jymoor thought about protesting. She hardly felt ready for a real battle, but on the other hand, it was a sign that Legrach didn’t think of her as a mere child. Unless he just wanted her to die and be rid of her.

  Jymoor checked herself. She had two fenlar, her short sword, and the moon armor.

  “I’m ready, then,” she said.

  They walked through the stone corridors of the fortress. At each branch they picked up more warriors until Jymoor was part of a stream of men. They poured out into the main courtyard and formed ranks. Jymoor felt conspicuous in her armor, but her mind remained mostly on the prospect of doing battle. She flexed her hands nervously, feeling the strength of the moon armor there.