Markus kicked quickly towards his opponent’s thigh, trying to take the leg out from under him, but Hammer pushed a kick forward as he was midway through his strike. The blow hit like a horse, knocking him off his feet and flat into the snow. He jumped back to his feet, surprised by the timing in which Hammer was able to interrupt his attack.
Circling around the hulking man, Markus contemplated his next move, until finally he feinted with a right hook before ducking under Hammer’s parry and into his centre line, striking an uppercut to his torso. Without even quivering, Hammer grabbed Markus by the collar and smashed his knee into his stomach, keeling him over. He then reached for his torso, lifting the man up as if he weighed nothing at all, and tossed him twenty feet across the snow. Markus rolled along the ground until he came to a standstill, accepting defeat. He stood back up, feeling a whole new set of aches and pains.
“I have never seen such a combination of strength, speed and co-ordination,” Markus said.
“No, this man is not what he used to be,” Hammer replied.
“You really are hundreds of years old?”
“Yes, why would I say otherwise?”
Hammer suddenly became interested in the silver pendant that hung around Markus’ neck. He studied it intently, before walking up to him and taking it in his hand.
“Tell me something. What is it that you seek?”
“We are making our way back to Ambstern to help with the counter offensive.”
“No, not where are you going, what do you want?”
“Revenge, the Karsians have killed my father, my brother, and enslaved or killed my people.”
Hammer let go of the pendant and strolled a few paces before turning back to look at the man, clearly in deep thought.
“Where did you get that pendant?”
“It was my brother’s, given to him by our father, and every eldest son before him.”
Hammer went silent again, stroking his beard, clearly knowing a lot more than he let on. Markus and Bull simply stood, unsure what to make of the man, a mountain barbarian who could master both their strength and speed, could create fire with his thoughts and had possessions that only royalty could afford.
“What is it to you?” asked Markus.
“Only one of those exists in the world, and it belonged to a man that saved my life many years ago,” said Hammer.
“You believe it is the same one?”
“Yes, you know I could make you a great fighter, both of you, enough to accomplish what you desire.”
“But how long would that take? For all we know Lienzberg has already fallen, and their armies could be rampaging though the lands.”
“Not likely, with this snow the armies will stop at the city until the spring,” said Bull.
“Indeed,” agreed Hammer.
“Why would you do this?” asked Markus.
“Because I want to, because you need it, and to re-pay a favour, in the only way I can.”
He looked at Markus, the look piercing into his eyes. Markus felt as if Hammer was inside his head and reading his thoughts and memories. It felt like a strange dream. Then it suddenly stopped. Markus and Bull looked at each other, Bull keen to learn from such a capable fighter, but Markus ever concerned about the looming danger to their country spoke quietly.
“I cannot, I must go to the aid of my people.”
“And what good would you do them? A great general once told me ‘a pint of sweat will save a gallon of blood’.”
Markus thought hard about the situation, and contemplated how hard a fight they had received in Raubuck. He knew that he was a good fighter, but he could not turn the tide of the war, not now. He took his pendant in his hand, thinking about his brother and father, and their deaths, remembering the tall Karsian who had killed his brother. He looked up again to Hammer.
“Can you really make us as much a fighter as you?”
“No, but I can make you ten times the men you are.”
“When do we start?” asked Bull.
“Your first task is to find us dinner, take a bow and get hunting.”
The two men looked at each other, expecting something more, beyond a simple hunt.
“What are you waiting for? Can’t train on an empty stomach, get to work!”
Later that day they again sat about their table, the two men nursing their wounds as the wise mountain man cooked the pheasant they caught earlier that day. It was a surreal experience and place the two men had walked into, though no stranger than their meeting and new friendship the day before.
“Hammer, how is it that you have lived this long? You’re a Werstrian aren’t you?” asked Markus.
“Honestly, gentleman that is one answer I cannot give you. I moved to this place, the place of my ancestors, for peace of mind and a simple way of life, and have been here ever since. Time passes me by, but I do not change.”
“Ha, so you are immortal?” asked Bull.
“It seems so. I have often considered that it is this place. None of my friends or family lived longer than any other Werstrian, what other reason can there be?”
“Maybe the Gods chose you,” said Bull.
Hammer laughed aloud, resounding around the walls of the cave. Bull looked taken aback by the old veteran, unsure how to respond to a man who questioned the Gods.
“My man, after living for so long, you soon realise that there are no Gods, only men, we affect our future, no one else.”
“Then explain to me why the Karsians and Werstrians have been fighting for so long,” Markus said.
“Tell me, do either of you even know why Karsia and Werstria are at war and always have been?”
They looked at each other. War between their two races had been so natural to them that they had never give it any further thoughts.
“What are you saying?” asked Bull.
“Many many years ago, the Karsians were a slave people to Werstria, we used them for manual labour, as foot soldiers and anything else we desired. Eventually they took over the Western empire for themselves, mixed with other peoples, until they formed their own state, and wanted what we had. They hated Werstrians for hundreds of years of slavery.”
“Truly?” asked Markus.
“Why would I lie?”
“Just seems all so strange, what of the Karsians and the talk of magic and dragons?”
“It is the way of the world, all in good time, you will see, Markus. ”
“I don’t then understand why you are here,” Bull said.
“Partly to escape the madness and senselessness. I wanted no part of the conflict between peoples. But revenge, that is a raw and personal instinct, I can support that, and I owe it.”
“Enough of the history, where is the ale?”
“We do not drink tonight, you have not worked hard enough, Bull.”
The two men sighed with disappointment, understanding that they could not reason or argue with their host, he would likely hurt them some more. This was no ordinary Werstrian, no matter his age.
Chapter 3
Markus and Bull woke to another uncomfortable and aching morning, the bruises swelling from the day before. They stumbled out from the cave and again into the sun-shimmering snow, the shining brightness hurting their weary eyes. Hammer stood two steps in front of them, holding his huge staff.
“You have three months to become the best fighters in Werstria. I cannot and will not go soft on you. It is time to become the men you always should have been!”
“We’re ready for it,” replied Bull.
“Really? You have strength, but you are slow and clumsy, like an ox. Markus, you have speed and a good sense of timing, but you lack strength, style is nothing without power.”
“So we just need to learn each other’s strengths?” asked Markus.
“Do not get ahead of yourself. I did not say you were that good.”
“Enough talk, let’s start,” said Bull.
Hammer pointed over to several staffs lying against
the rock face beside the cave entrance.
“Grab yourself a staff each.”
They both looked bored and unimpressed as they shambled over to the staffs and took them in hand, feeling a little disappointed, having expected something revolutionary.
“What good are staffs to us? We are going to war against swords, armour, muskets and cannons,” Markus complained.
“Never underestimate the staff! Master the staff and you can effectively wield any two-handed weapon, from a simple piece of wood, to a halberd, billhook, partisan or greatsword. Now come on guard!”
Markus took the staff in two hands, spread out evenly from the centre of the staff that was slightly taller than him, the ends of it pointing off to each of his sides. He stepped one pace closer to their teacher, but without warning, the head of Hammer’s shaft thrust into his chest, smashing him off his feet and onto his back. Bull chuckled to himself.
“You have a weapon as tall as a man, why don’t you use the reach? Come on guard with the point threatening your opponent, ready to strike or parry, and grip is from one end, giving yourself reach.”
Markus got back on his feet, and adjusted his grip, the staff now outreaching before him. Hammer lifted his staff above for a mighty strike down onto the head. As he swung, Markus lengthened his grip on the pole and placed it horizontally above his head, stopping the mighty blow dead, but before he could respond he was kicked to the stomach, his legs giving way before him and landing him face first in the snow.
“Keep the point on line! Don’t let me say it a third time! I threatened you with force, you could have struck me in my attack, or simply displaced and struck quickly. Do not meet force head on, displace force on its weak side, and beat through those who are weak.”
He again got to his feet with snow sticking to his face and clothing, his stomach now aching as much as his chest. Without allowing him time to recover, Hammer thrust at him again, this time he quickly parried the blade off to one side with a small displacement.
“Better, but next time strike back! Bull, your turn!”
The proud man stepped forward, the staff gripped firmly at one end, the shaft pointing to his opponent, having learned his first lessons at Markus’ expense. He let out a booming cry as he swung towards his trainer, hoping to take the imitative with aggression. Hammer leapt back and the staff swung far past him, Bull overreaching wildly, he paid the price as the staff was smashed down onto his arm.
“That was clumsy! Act like a man not a beast, you have more to rely on than just strength!”
Bull again gripped the staff with his beaten arm, he feinted a thrust to Hammer’s right side, before quickly re-directing and trying to cut down on the opposing side, but the man reacted quickly with a parry. Bull pivoted the staff against the other and lunged forward, but Hammer gripped the shaft and yanked him forward, pulling him off his feet and into the snow.
“That was a big improvement!”
“But I still lost.”
“I said better, not good enough!”
The staff training continued until noon, when both men were utterly exhausted and battered, they knew they were improving, but their bodies told them otherwise. Hammer seemed barely tired at all, staying sharp, focused and fast at all times.
“That’s enough with the staff for one day. You will not learn anything when exhausted.”
Markus dropped his staff to the snow and hunched over, his hands resting on his knees, panting and sweating heavily. He was winded and gasping for air. His training had been regular and testing in Schwartzal, but nothing had prepared him for the physical and mental battering that he had received in one morning from this new master.
“Thank you,” said Markus.
“Do you want water?”
“Please.”
“Then follow me.”
They followed Hammer, who led them for an hour, a trek that felt endless to the two exhausted men. They could hear the sound of crashing water for the last few minutes of their walk, a beautiful and tantalising sound to the thirsty men. Finally, they came out of the trees to the edge of a waterfall. Hammer led them across a rock face to the very top of the tall fall.
“What is this?” asked Bull.
“Another test.”
“Really? Can we not rest for a moment?” Markus asked.
Hammer snapped around, an angry look on his face.
“Fights do not always come when you wish them! If you cannot do what is needed in any condition, you are useless!”
Markus felt humbled, embarrassed to have shown weakness.
“Okay, what do we do?”
Their teacher pointed over the cliff edge into the basin underneath, a huge drop. The water was crashing noisily into the lake below. Markus looked back at the man with a look of fear in his eyes.
“You want us to jump?”
Hammer did not speak, he only nodded with a wicked grin across his face, clearly enjoying the fear he was instilling in his students.
“We want to learn to fight, not take stupid risks!” Markus shouted.
“There is nothing stupid about it, you have already wasted enough time thinking about this, enough time that could get you killed in different circumstances. Be a man and purge yourself of fear and indecision.”
Bull could bear it no longer, his manliness questioned enough already, he ran to the ledge and leapt from the peak. Markus watched, surprised as he disappeared from the ledge.
“Oh, hell!”
He ran to the edge and jumped after Bull before he had any more time to fester on the danger of the situation. It was a huge drop to the basin, far more than he realised, his heart was pounding with exhilaration, the thrill of danger. Eventually, he plunged into the water below, driving deep into the water. Swimming back to the surface he reached the rocky side and dragged himself out, still panting and aching from the constant physical exertion.
Bull was already sitting on a rock beside the water when he emerged, slumped down on a rock next to him. Bull began to laugh with his deep bellowing voice and
That was the end of their first day of training, it was all they could manage Markus quickly followed suit, glad to have survived, and feeling thoroughly purged of the fear they had felt just moments before. They looked up at their teacher who was standing at the ledge above them. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted.
“Now drink all you like!” and were utterly exhausted from the few hours they had done. For all of Hammer’s insults, he seemed happy with their progress. The next day the two men again stood outside their cave, ready to begin a second day of torture.
“Strength and power, these are things we must now work on, and keep doing so until you leave here. Bull may be strong, but there is plenty of room for improvement, and you Markus, you have the strength of a woman.”
Bull chuckled to himself, but Hammer was not amused, punching him quickly in the face with a light but firm strike.
“He may fight like a woman, but you move like an ox! Now, hang from that branch over there, pull your body up till your head surpasses your hands, and repeat, until you can do no more.”
This was the very beginning of the brutal training regime that they were to endure through the bitterly cold winter, they had no choice but to get stronger and faster, or die trying. Hammer was not at all impressed with their strength and stamina, but over the coming weeks, that would rapidly change. Later that day, Hammer loaded a huge tree trunk onto Markus’ shoulders, the weight of which he had never felt before.
“Now, walk to the waterfall and back. The quicker you get back the quicker you eat. Too long and there won’t be anything left.”
Markus sighed at the very thought of what he had to do, his back slumping heavily already from the ridiculous weight of the log. He hated Hammer for making him do what he had to do, but he knew that hatred would drive him on and would keep him going. Every part of his body wanted to throw down the tree and give up, to shout insults at his teacher. Despite this, his natural stubb
ornness would not let him give up.
Setting off towards the falls, Markus focused his mind, controlled his breathing carefully, and purged his feeling of pain and tiredness. He staggered onwards, not ever stopping a pace, building a rhythm that flowed so that each step would not be a separate struggle. As he got half way back from the waterfall he realised something, something that would change his character forever, in that he always quit when he thought he was tired, when his body told him it was. He realised that most people quit because things become too difficult, and used fatigue as an excuse, never truly pushing their bodies to the limits.
As Markus stepped onwards, the pain and ache of his muscles forgotten, his pace increased and feeling a new sense of power, he felt unstoppable. He quickened his step to a steady jog and stormed the last half of the trip, running back to the cave. He reached the opening where they trained, thundering into the space, no longer hunched, no longer bothered by the weight. With a roar, he lifted the tree off his shoulders and straight above his head, before throwing it forwards. The huge log hit the snow with a heavy thud, not bouncing at all, the sheer weight stopping it dead.
Hammer and Bull appeared from the cave entrance, looking out at the adrenaline-filled Markus, who had a huge grin on his face and stood tall and proud. He looked at the two of them, a victorious look in his eyes.
“Impressive, you have learned one of the most important lessons of all, to look failure in the eye and laugh at it!”
Markus cupped snow from the ground and threw it into his sweat dripping face. Still breathing heavily, but not willing to sit down.
“Well done, you might even be half as strong as me now,” Bull said.
The other two men laughed aloud.
“Come on inside, you’ve earned it.”
Markus stepped towards the cave, the muscles in his legs stiff and a little unstable, the rest of his body sore, but he was utterly satisfied. Bull had several bruises on his face, he was clearly taught a hard lesson that day too. They gladly rested out the day. Several weeks passed of similar training, strength, stamina and staff training.
Kingdom of Fire Page 4