“Do you still not bow? Even after…”
“Don’t bother, Santos. As I understand it, his back is as stiff as a pike and he’s far more dangerous than he looks.”
Everyone turned to see who had spoken. Canis was pleased to see Dagon walking into the room. He had a bandage around his head and he carried himself tenderly, but he seemed well enough.
King Santos turned to Dagon. “What’s the meaning of all this, Dagon. This wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan.” He waved his hand toward the bandage on Dagon’s head.
“No, it wasn’t.” He swayed and a slave was there with a chair for him to sink into. Other chairs appeared as well and when Canis lagged in sitting, Dagon said, “Just sit, boy. I’ve no patience left.”
Canis perched on the edge of one of the chairs and listened to what Dagon had to say.
“I told you of the plan, Santos. To see if this kid was skilled enough to enter my class, he was supposed to capture me and bring me out to you unharmed. Because of his size, I was prepared to allow him to succeed, if he showed sufficient skill. Instead, someone…” He gingerly touched the side of his head and winced at the memory of the blow. “Someone knocked me out. I woke in a small storeroom at the top of the school. Stanton ties a mean knot.” He flexed his bandaged wrists and Santos glowered. “After my struggles were silenced again, the next thing I knew was waking up here. I remember some vague scenes, but nothing I can grab hold of.”
“The boy carried you out across his shoulders,” said Corbin. “He came from the alley. He must have brought you out of the building from the back door.”
“I was almost ready to have him flogged until he gave me the message,” said Santos. They missed that Canis suddenly went ridged and wary. Corbin produced the message and gave it to Dagon who read it and scowled.
“Well,” said Dagon. “I need to return to the school and sort this all out. Stanton has much to answer for, I think.” He rose from his chair and swayed slightly.
Corbin rose too and caught his elbow. “I’ll come with you. An investigation is already underway. There should be something to report by the time we get there.”
Dagon groaned and looked at the king. “You didn’t.”
“Brother, you were beaten and bound in your own school. I couldn’t ignore that,” said Santos.
Canis started in surprise. They are brothers. No wonder they were so familiar. If the king and Dagon were brothers, what did that make Dagon?
As they headed back to the school, Dagon said to Canis, “Since there were no witnesses, I must rely on your word; did you fight a clean fight?”
Dagon wasn’t looking at him, but Canis knew who he was speaking to. He fingered the bloodstain on one of his cuffs and shook his head.
“The boy doesn’t go overboard with his expressions, does he?” commented Corbin.
“No, he’s very contained. It’s the tinder for many small skirmishes outside of the classroom, and every one of them had to be sent to the infirmary. He even disarmed Leonard during the last test and I had to send him to the infirmary as well.”
Canis didn’t know Leonard had been hurt. He looked sharply at Dagon, but the man didn’t seem to be angry about it.
“Leonard insisted that the fight was as clean as he could have wanted from one of his students, and to top it off, the boy had been injured by a fall before the actual fight.”
“Why did you let him take the test if he was injured?” asked Corbin.
“He fell from the rope. Leonard saw that he had hurt his hand, but the boy pressed the attack anyway so Leonard went ahead with the test. It was only after his visit to the healer that we learned he had torn up a foot and wrenched his back on top of his wrist being broken.”
“That’s impressive,” said Corbin as he looked down on Canis from his lofty height. “Are you going to pass him with this test, even though it turned out to be something other than a test?”
“I haven’t decided yet. There were no witnesses, at least none whose word I’ll listen to, and he said he didn’t fight clean. I’ll have to think on it.”
“I don’t quite understand this fixation you have taken in regard to a clean fight. There are many dirty tricks that can make fighting with a sword highly dangerous.”
“There is, and I do my best to teach them all, but young Canis has two very different forms of fighting. He seems to be very good with what we are trying to teach him at the school. He’s flexible and imaginative, but he has another method of fighting too, one I think he must have been born with. Until he is much older, I intend that he keep the two separate. He can combine them after he has learned whatever I can pour into him.”
Corbin gazed at Canis again. “I find that hard to believe. He doesn’t look old enough to be that feisty.”
“Well that settles it then,” said Dagon. “We’ll let Corbin decide if you’re good enough to pass your test. Mind you, he’s the best swordsman I have ever seen besides myself, which is why he stands in my brother’s shadow.”
Canis looked up at the tall man while he fingered the bloody cuff of his shirt again.
Dagon chuckled softly. “I’ll be sure and warn the healer to expect you both. I doubt either of you will be able to avoid drawing a little blood.”
The school was swarming with soldiers by the time they arrived. All of the students were confined to their rooms while the rest of the school was searched. The scene of the crime was easily found by the amount of blood in the area and the broken window. A slight blood trail lead out the back door to disappear down the alley, but there was no telling who the blood belonged to and it was quickly lost in the street. None of the men Canis had fought could be found in the school, but their absence told their names. The rest of the instructors and upperclassmen were all questioned. They had all been aware of the testing that was to take place today, but none of them had known the plan. All of the students were released to go about their business, though their liberties were curtailed until Stanton could be found, or it was proven that he had left the city.
After peace had been restored to the halls of the school, Dagon took Canis and Corbin to an empty classroom. “Now then, Canis, make it a clean fight this time. Corbin, you might want to select a sword from the rack to preserve the edge on your own.”
Corbin did as Dagon recommended, he wasn’t willing to chip his blade if he didn’t have to.
When they were ready, Dagon called, “Salute,” and when they had both done so, he said, “Begin.”
Corbin was obviously the better swordsman, but Canis stood toe to toe without fear and was learning Corbin’s forms as fast as he used them. He gave way only by sidestepping or fainting rather than by blatantly retreating. It took twenty minutes for Corbin to disarm him – much longer than he expected.
“Pass, pass I say,” declared Corbin. “This boy has more skill than I’ve seen in years. Did you see what he was doing? He was using my own forms against me and he only missed a few small details.”
“Yes, I saw,” said Dagon.
Canis retrieved his sword and returned to the center of the floor.
“Now Corbin, would you like a taste of the boy’s other style of fighting?” asked Dagon.
Corbin looked at Canis, who stood there at his ease. He could see that the boy wasn’t as ‘at ease’ as he looked. Another man might have missed that detail. “Sure, you call it.”
“Call it; how do you call a fight like this? Very well, get ready.”
Assuming that the other style of fighting Dagon spoke of was some form of wrestling, Corbin tossed the sword he had been using to slide over by the weapon’s rack and hunched over in a wrestler’s stance. Canis hadn’t moved a muscle. He hadn’t even sheathed his sword. After all, if he wasn’t fighting with his sword, what else was he doing?
“Begin,” said Dagon. He had no idea what to expect. Other than the very first exchange with Leonard, he had never seen Canis fight outside of the classroom. He had only seen the results. He was every bit as surpr
ised as Corbin was.
Canis exploded into action. He flung his sword at Corbin forcing him to straighten from his crouch and dodge aside or be hit by it. Canis followed the sword just as quickly as it had flown. He flowed up Corbin’s frame and over his shoulder before the man could lay a hand on him, but Canis did not jump down his back. Canis snagged a hand under Corbin’s chin in passing and planted his feet firmly in the small of Corbin’s back using his weight to drag the taller man further off balance in an astonishing continuation of his original dodge. Long before the big man hit the floor, Canis swung his weight further around. By the time their bodies came to a stop, Corbin was sprawled on his face and Canis could either tear out Corbin’s throat or break his neck before Corbin could do anything about it, and he knew it.
Unable to speak, Corbin slapped the floor with the flat of his hand and Dagon called, “Break,” ending the fight. Canis released him and took several steps away to watch him warily.
Corbin picked himself up off the floor and looked at Canis rubbing his throat. “I never would have thought… I seem to recall you saying he was more dangerous than he looks. I believe you. If you don’t pass him this test, you should go visit your healer and have your head examined. Then again, perhaps you should put him in a cage. I’m not sure I feel too comfortable knowing a child who is this dangerous is growing up in this city.” As he spoke, he watched Canis go from merely wary to just short of hostile.
No one is going to put me in a cage again. Not ever.
Dagon called him. “Canis, run to my office and find me a parchment, quill and ink. Go on.”
Canis sidled from the room, keeping Corbin in sight until he could put a solid door between them.
As he was returning with the writing things, Canis saw the tall man leaving the school, and then Dagon took Canis and the writing materials back to his office before sitting down to write on the paper. When he was finished, he offered the paper to Canis. “Take this to Master Devon, the armorer. Do you know him?” Canis nodded. “He’ll measure you for a proper sword. You’ll report to my class as a full student as soon as it’s finished, until then your time is your own. Congratulations.” But before he completely released the paper into Canis’s grip, he said, “If I ever catch you throwing your sword away again, I’ll thump you up side the head until you see stars. Never disarm yourself. I don’t care how well you can fight with your hands; never throw away your sword.”
Canis could only nod his tiny nod. Corbin threw his sword away. He thought the fight was going to be without swords, but I needed him to stand up, I needed him to lift one foot off the floor. Taking him down would have been so much harder if he had kept his stance.
Stanton stood in the center of the room. The only thing he wore was his silk small clothes and the bandages at his shoulder and around his thigh. Guards stood in every corner and he knew that, while the woman was in the room, if he so much as swayed, he would likely be meeting death.
The woman was small, she scarcely came up to his shoulder and her gem encrusted red dress clung in a manner that made him want to touch her. “You told me you would be able to ensure that this…this boy, did you say? would be blamed for my brother’s death. Instead, this boy succeeded in getting Dagon away from you and out of the school alive. What went wrong?” She walked around and around him, slowly trailing a hand along his skin as she spoke, as if exploring the contours of his muscles. At her question, she allowed her hand to trail down and she punctuated her question with a sharp pinch on his thigh wound.
Stanton gasped and almost lost his balance. He was already unsteady from loss of blood and dizzy from the blow that swelled one eye nearly closed. “The boy showed up far sooner than we anticipated. He’s surprisingly strong for someone his size, and apparently, he has a rather unorthodox form. I wasn’t informed…”
The woman continued her slow orbit, trailing her hand over his body. She felt him trembling and wondered if it was all from weakness. “You told me that before, so what you’re really telling me is that he took you by surprise. A child caught you by surprise. I caused you to be placed there because you were among the best in the arena. Are you growing lazy? Do you miss your collar? I remember a time when nothing caught you by surprise.” She trailed her fingers down his face. “Well, almost nothing.” She allowed her hand to drop to his shoulder and she squeezed it hard.
He gasped and dropped to his knees with the pain. The abrupt movement of his thigh muscles won an inarticulate cry, but he managed to remain straight under her hand. It took three full gasps before he could reply. “I am at your mercy, Mistress,” he whispered. He didn’t trust his voice any louder. Her hand still rested on his shoulder.
“I am glad you remember, slave, but you have failed me, and now Dagon knows you. At the very least, he and Santos will have the entire city searched in an attempt to find you and your two incompetent helpers. What am I going to do with you?”
Stanton hung his head. He still shook in the aftermath of the pain her fingers had caused. “Your wish is my command,” he said to her slippered feet. He liked her feet.
“I suppose I could put all three of you into the arena. Dagon occasionally trains a slave to that end, but he doesn’t like to watch his training spent there so he never attends. It’s not likely he’ll see you. Santos loves the arena, but he doesn’t know your faces so he’s not likely to recognize you.” She combed her fingers through his hair, then gripped it hard and tipped his head back in order to look him in the eyes. “I could still find some use for you in the arena.”
“As you wish, Mistress,” said Stanton. The alternative could well be death and he so very much preferred to live.
She spoke to the room at large while still studying his eyes. “All possible connections between this slave and me must be erased. Take him to the dungeon and return him to his collar. Collar the other two as well. The others were free men. They will need to be educated to their new status and they may need to be silenced, but I don’t want them to be scarred.” She released Stanton’s hair and trailed her fingernails up under his chin. “This one might need reminding too.” She planted a firm and penetrating kiss on his mouth sending long missed charges through his body. He was moaning with inflamed desire long before she was finished. He was sobbing from denied desires by the time the guards had propelled him through the door.
Nighttime City
By the time Patro returned in early spring, Canis could hold his own against his classmates with genuine skill with his sword, not crafty tricks and unpredictable moves, though a drawn out duel was still out of the question – there was no way he could match blunt muscle strength or endurance against an adult yet. There were still some gaps in his education, but they remained gaps for only moments. To fill in those gaps as fast as possible, Master Dagon insisted he still participate in the intermediate classes. He was only nine years old now (though Patro counted him somewhere around seven), and his classmates averaged twenty.
Patro was there and gone again so quickly, Canis didn’t even learn of his visit until he was informed that he was paid up for another year, and another pouch of coins was handed to him. Canis wouldn’t have allowed Patro to spend the money on him again, but he didn’t have enough himself. What Patro gave him for spending money wouldn’t even make a dent in the bill, and it was still Patro’s money. A trip through the slave market that evening showed him that Patro had already left the city. I will have to find another way.
Eager to find a way to make some money, not only to pay Patro back but to continue his lessons, Canis took to roaming the city in the evenings. He knew Patro expected him to come back to the slave caravan where he would likely act as a guard while the caravan was in motion and to fight in the arena when they were in a city, but he now knew that he didn’t want to travel with the slave wagons any longer.
Canis didn’t have much luck in his quest, though. He was only a kid, and since he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t ask for work. Pacing the streets of the city revealed nothing
that didn’t involve taking what didn’t belong to him, so he took to wandering into the mountains of rubble at the edge of the city. The quiet he found there was soothing; it was a relief to be away from the constant crush of people, even if for only an hour or two. Few people ventured very far into these ruins and fewer still came there at night. He took to hunting here too and sometimes he would take the time to roast his kill over a small fire.
He was turning a fat rabbit over his fire one night when a group of men stepped into the light. “What gives you the right to come into our territory and eat our game?” said one of the six rough-looking men who closed in on him out of the darkness.
Canis stood, and when the men saw that he was only a kid, they began to laugh. When Canis didn’t react with a proper amount of fear, they moved in to teach him a lesson.
Canis carried his own sword. He had earned the right as soon as he passed the third test. The sword had been his reward, though dull blanks were what they still used in class. Like the sword Canis had used so far, the one he picked out from the smith was double-edged and slim, and per the recommendation of the smith, only a couple inches longer than his old one – still short when compared to other swords, but on him, it measured like a long sword.
The men weren’t about to give him the opportunity to use it, but that didn’t matter; by the time Canis was finished with them, he had a cut that scraped across his ribs and an arm that he couldn’t lift above his shoulder, but all six of the men were incapacitated.
He looked at them. He was, after all just a kid. He picked up his rabbit and ate it as he headed back to the school where he woke up the healer to get his side mended.
The next evening, he was strolling down the Grand Market Street on his way to the ruins when a patrol approached him. “Hey, kid,” said one of the constables.
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