Chronicles of Galadria II - Encounters

by David Gay-Perret

  “Master, I can’t do it!” exclaimed Glaide. “This is pointless... it would be better to focus on learning to block; then I’ll be able defend myself without having to dodge like this.”

  “And what would you do when faced with an enemy three times as big or as strong as you? Do you think then you could simply parry his attacks?” asked Kezthrem calmly. Glaide thought back to the battle between the two barbarians that he and his friends had come across outside of Shinozuka. In that moment, they had doubted – aptly enough – that they could vanquish such enemies, and it remained obvious to him that he could do nothing against an attack as powerful as that. He sighed in resignation.

  “So then,” continued the man, “you do have to master the art of avoiding your adversary. Let me give you a piece of advice along those lines.”

  Glaide listened carefully, his attention piqued.

  “What is dodging? It’s placing yourself outside of the reach of an attack. So then, study the movement that would decapitate you, and see what you can do.” Kezthrem replayed the attack, this time asking that his disciple not move. The wood whistled through the air and when it stopped, Glaide could feel a soft breeze strike his face. “In such a situation,” continued Kezthrem, “what options do you have? You can, as you attempted earlier, crouch lower, but for that you must be agile and quick. Besides, if you are successful, your movements become limited, because there is little you can do so close to the ground. However, a second possibility exists, which is simpler and more efficient: to move back a step. Try it.”

  Glaide did so, and had to admit that his adversary was now much farther from his neck. He nodded his head.

  “You see,” continued his master, “you should always look for the simplest and most rapid way, keeping in mind that dodging means putting yourself out of reach of the attack of your opponent, and nothing more.”

  That simple phrase completely changed the way the young man trained. He realized that he had previously tried to dodge his adversary’s assaults by crouching, jumping, and making many other useless, tiring, and inefficient movements. This new knowledge allowed the disciple to make a huge amount of progress in the following weeks, as he discovered the realm of possibilities before him: an unexpected missed blow could even send his opponent flying in the same trajectory as his failed blow, offering up an opening for a mortal blow from a counter attack, which Kezthrem added was a common and useful technique in a fight against orks.

  Chapter 26

  WITH that, the last week of the second month of time together passed by. One evening, as the adolescent tried, for the umpteenth time, to start a conversation in yet another silent meal time – an attempt that always seemed fruitless – the young man asked a question that he asked himself every time he used a wooden sword.

  “Master, why do we always use bokkens in training, despite the fact that Iretane is meant to be practiced with swords like ours, long and wide?”

  The man seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, before a slow smile spread across his face. “What you’re referring to is an important part of the history of this school.” The adolescent settled in comfortably, impatient to learn more. It looked like his master was about to tell a story.

  “Actually, the technique of Iretane is not limited to our swords, but can also be used with a katana. A katana is not quite as long as your weapon, and considerably narrower , but it has a similar weight, since the sword you carry is lighter than its form suggests – something I’m sure you’ve already noticed.”

  Glaide nodded. “With a katana...” he repeated, intrigued. “But they say that type of weapon doesn’t really exist anymore, since they can’t hold eorens.”

  “No one makes them anymore,” corrected Kezthrem. “That doesn’t mean they are no longer seen, though. Most of the swords of the Ancient Times were katanas. Extremely sharp, easy to manipulate, and flexible, they are some of the best weapons for hand-to-hand combat that exist.”

  “But impossible to find, I suppose?”

  “Pretty much. They’ve disappeared, or they’ve been lost. That being said, let me be precise: I did not say Iretane could be used with katanas in general, but with a katana. That is why its disciples through the ages have always used swords like ours.”

  “What do you mean? I know that our weapons are well adapted to our school, but just as I practiced Murockai for a time with my sword, a person could always use Iretane with a katana or any other blade that resembled a sword, couldn’t they?”

  “Not if you want to be able to use the Blade of Light or any of its derivatives, but I won’t go into details on that now. The important thing is that my ancestor – the one that forged our two weapons – is the only swordsman of Iretane to have had a katana that could be used with white magic. Explaining where that weapon came from is another story entirely. At any rate, he gave up the sword after a time, giving it to a friend, but when he became the master of Iretane, several years later, he instituted the use of bokkens for his disciples, so that they would be prepared to use their own sword or the katana, in case a student ever had the opportunity.”

  Glaide appeared lost in his thoughts for a few moments, before finally murmuring to himself, “If he worked so hard to maintain that tradition, that weapon must be very important. I wonder why on earth he ever let it out of his sight...” Then he added aloud, “Apparently then, your ancestor, for reasons unknown, decided not to hang onto that katana, but nonetheless wanted his students to be prepared to use it, just in case... I don’t understand how that became the standard in the study of Iretane. He wasn’t the only master, and I’m sure others wondered about that. He had to have convinced the whole world... Or is it simply the standard you use, because he was your ancestor?”

  Now, it was Kezthrem’s turn to think about it. He leaned back into his chair, his eyebrows knit together. “Using bokkens has been the standard everywhere for studying Iretane. And I don’t think my ancestor had to do any convincing. As far back as I can remember, there has always been just one master, or on occasion, two, when two generations overlapped. I suppose he was the only one in his time, so his decisions simply became the rule.” The young man listened in silence. He knew this much, though: Kezthrem’s ancestor was the only person in the entire history of Iretane to have used a katana – one whose origins were unknown, and which he got rid of after a time, for reasons that were just as mysterious. This man then became the only master of Iretane in his time, and instituted the practice of using wooden swords for training, so that his disciples could use a katana, just in case one of them ever came to use the famous sword.

  The adolescent promised himself he would learn more about that weapon, and especially about what became of it, as well as about this ancestor of Kezthrem, who seemed to have lived such an interesting life. But he realized, above all, that he still had much to learn about his master. However, he didn’t have a chance to ask the man anymore questions then; his master waved his hand as if wiping the conversation away, and the young man understood that the conversation was over. He didn’t push, and instead headed up to bed.

  Two nights later, Kezthrem attacked again. Again, Glaide failed to see it coming. This time, he didn’t even wake up. It was only the next morning, when he awoke, that he realized his master had paid him a visit during the night. A small piece of wood, notched by a blade, lay next to his ear. The young man cursed his deafness, but despite his good intentions, he couldn’t see any way that he could manage to sleep all while keeping one eye – or in this case, ear – open. Either he was asleep, or he wasn’t asleep; he couldn’t do the two things at once.

  When he reached the dojo that morning, though, his master actually made mention of the event for a change. He didn’t torture his disciple with reproach, but instead gave him a few bits of advice. The goal of the exercise was not to train him to stay awake, but to learn to regain his strength without sleeping too soundly. To do that, he had to understand that sleeping was not synonymous with security. Far from it; it wa
s an elemental part of humanity, as necessary as limbs or a head, and just as those parts of the body could be injured, so could sleep be endangered. Glaide had to learn to use it to the best of ability, keeping in mind the strengths and weaknesses inherent to such a state.

  Finally, the young man understood that all he could do to work on this would be to force himself to wake up in the middle of the night, to listen to the ambient sounds around him, and to make himself react rapidly, striking out with his sword just as he opened his eyes. Little by little, Kezthrem assured him, he would also learn to unconsciously distinguish suspicious sounds such as leaves stirring – from movement, and not just the wind – or the floorboards creaking, from more trivial, ambient sounds.

  The adolescent felt perplexed, not sure how he could work on the unconscious aspects of the skill, but he trusted his master, and knew that he would do his best to make sure his disciple mastered that ability, assuming he did his own part. Starting from then, besides his usual exercises, the boy trained himself to wake during the middle of the night, get up, walk around, do a few movements with his sword, then return to bed.

  And so time passed. Glaide and Kezthrem had now spent a full two months’ time together. They worked on a diverse collection of exercises, each one more interesting than the last, so that Glaide no longer had time to be bored, or to be displeased. The undeniable progress he made was an inexhaustible source of encouragement for him.

  The master and his disciple didn’t return to the village midway through the month as they had before. Instead, a new test awaited the young man... One warm, sunny day, just like every other day on Galadria, and midway through the month of November, Kezthrem set up a dozen wooden figures – or really, a number of logs of different sizes, with solid pedestal-like bases – outside. The set-up looked very old; the wood was dull, and notched all over. Each of the figures had a different shape and a different weapon. A small one was armed with a lance, and a bigger one carried an axe. Another, bigger still, fought with two swords.

  Glaide watched his master place the mannequins, which apparently took a great deal of precision; Kezthrem constantly moved them, shifted them around, turned them this way and that, and switched their weapons around, with his goal to produce a collection of varied adversaries. When he had finally finished, the garden looked like a battlefield, with all of the fighters waiting for their enemy. Their enemy incarnate, Glaide, advanced towards them.

  “This will be a comprehensive training,” began the man. “You will have to use everything you have learned. The goal is a simple one: you must cut down all of your enemies in as little time as possible, without using your body to knock them over, and without falling, stumbling, or misstepping in any way. Are you ready?”

  Glaide had a sudden desire to say no, but he restrained himself, instead taking up a position in a spot where he could see the majority of the figures. He memorized exactly where the two behind him were placed, then announced in a loud voice, “Ready.”

  “Then begin.”

  The young man turned quickly, making his sword appear in his hand in the process. As he turned, he bumped against the point of a lance. “Oops, I didn’t see that,” he thought to himself. He slashed at one of the figures, swinging his weapon with two hands, and took advantage of the path of the swing to also attack the one to the side. “Two down...” He’d opened up a small space, where he took up a guard position. Passing through the space, he planted his blade against another of his wooden enemies.

  From his position, he could clearly see the entire battlefield – one that looked like a deadly labyrinth. Not sure which figure to attack, he launched himself haphazardly into the fray. The variety of weapons unsettled him: as he moved to decapitate one of the figures, he felt a halberd scrape against his shoulder, and when he moved out of range of the attack, he noticed more blades that were far too close for comfort. Finally, he moved to attack, but in the process, fell against one of the figures, tripped, and fell against another. From where he stood, had the battle been real, he would have found himself impaled on a sharply forked pole arm. The adolescent got his footing again, and looked towards Kezthrem, who gazed contemplatively at the scene before him. Glaide stepped towards him.

  “Master, how badly did I do?” he asked timidly.

  “Well, you destroyed three out of ten enemies. That is very little. However, your judgement was good. You immediately got rid of the two behind you, and you took out one that was poorly protected. When it came to the rest, though, you let yourself get caught up in the middle of them. You have to view your situation with a sense of calm; an actual encounter like this would be no time to be rash. You have to make use of everything you’ve learned to acquire reflexes that could save your life. At any rate, though, you’ve now had a glimpse of what a battle with multiple adversaries would look like, and that was the goal of this exercise, first and foremost.”

  The young man nodded slowly, a pensive look on his face. It was clear that he was not yet able to apply the full measure of what he had learned. He was still fighting just by instincts, without any great technique, like when he’d fought against the orks. He needed to work more on the basics, even if he wanted to move onto new, and more and more complex techniques.

  During the days that followed, he kept the experience at the forefront of his mind, constantly trying to determine what the best movements would have been; what could he have done to strike down his enemies without bumping into any, or even brushing so close to any?

  However, without the figures in front of him, it was a difficult task, and after drafting a couple of plans of attack, which were more or less realistic, he decided to set it aside until the next session, when he could prove himself.

  Finally as two months’ time together drew to a close, and they began their third month of time together, Glaide and his master returned to the village. This time, even though they came across Gelden, Kezthrem remained by the side of his disciple. The young man was impressed by the villagers’ progress. From the hill over which they always approached the village, he could see that guard towers had already been put up, and many more new arrivals had begun new construction. He thought that there were even more houses under construction now than the last time, though those first houses had long since been finished.

  The commons in the center of the town was a proper one, with a number of market stalls set up and open for business. The two were able to sell a number of the shakuhachis, and could buy everything they needed. Glaide carried himself humbly, as well he should, remaining polite above all. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride in his heart as he caught glances and heard murmurs of admiration in their wake. He didn’t let it go to his head, though, instead hiding his excitement behind an impassive face.

  The little visits to the village were a welcome change for the young man, and an opportunity to see other faces, so that when they returned in the evening, he felt invigorated. Kezthrem, too, seemed happy with the monthly visit, even if the adolescent couldn’t determine exactly why.

  As this third month that Glaide and Kezthrem had spent under the same roof began, the first signs that the two were more than mere acquaintances were just beginning to appear.

  Chapter 27

  THE beginning of the week brought with it another exercise with the wooden figures. This time, Glaide carefully and patiently analyzed the lay of the land, and noticed a couple of traps that were created as Kezthrem manipulated the figures. Finally, he located a new position where he would be able to keep an eye on all of his adversaries. He took his position, and began his attack. He took out the first two figures almost simultaneously, and the force of his blows broke them cleanly apart. He had learned his lesson the last time, and took care not to panic when faced with the gauntlet of weapons that remained before him. He nimbly circled around the obstacles, dodging a few blades that were in his way, and though he occasionally brushed close to a sharp tip with his back, he managed to avoid them all.

  He
realized that his last few attacks, though they had reached the figures, had barely scratched them – a phenomenon that was repeated when he again launched into the melee. His adversaries seemed innumerable, though in reality there couldn’t have been more than fifteen. In the end, he was dripping with sweat and exhausted, but certain that he hadn’t been “injured”. More than that, he was sure that he had struck all of his enemies. Kezthrem marched between the figures, carefully studying the notches in each of them. Finally, he drew closer to his disciple, who was still trying to catch his breath.

  “Except for the two figures that you cut apart, all of your enemies remain alive. I don’t have to explain why any living ork remains dangerous,” he announced pointedly.

  “I.. I... kn... know,” Glaide choked out, his throat on fire. “I wa... was too... tired...”

  “Iretane is a technique meant to teach one to be able to take out each enemy in just a few movements. Based on the strength that you have, it would have taken dozens instead. You barely nicked the wood!”

  The young man’s head drooped; he was perfectly conscious of his failure.

  “You must learn how to conserve your energy, instead of wasting it like you did just now. You should never expend the tiniest iota unless it is completely necessary; you should put your energy behind your attacks and blocks, but never behind the movements in between. I watched you run about from one figure to the next, and it was completely pointless. Instead, it is enough to approach slowly, on guard. Here, your enemies are perfectly motionless, but in a real battle, they wouldn’t patiently wait for you; they’d be far more likely to be the ones charging at you. In that case, what would you have done?”

  Glaide thought for a moment, taking advantage of the time to catch his breath, then replied confidently, “I would have begun by taking note of how many there were, and what they were armed with, along with their positions. I would have also looked to see if there was an innocent in danger, because if so, I’d have moved to get between them and the attackers, then make my attack from there.”