Esther's Innocence

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Esther's Innocence Page 19

by Benjamin Boswell


  “No,” she said, standing “I accepted the risk. It’s all right. I know I don’t have the strength of my opponents—that’s why I’m here. I need to learn how to deal with it myself.”

  “But that was not—” Chidi started to say.

  “I know,” interrupted Esther, keeping a wary eye on Ikenna, but also looking at the faces of the other keobere-osote around her. A few of them looked as upset about what Ikenna had done as Chidi was. That made her feel a little bit better and Esther relaxed. Knowing that the others disapproved of the cheap shot helped her feel better.

  Esther stepped forward, pointing her sword at Ikenna. She saw several keobere-osote nod their heads in approval. Chidi lifted his chin as well, and nodded. Leftananti Ekem let out a tense breath of air and shook his head.

  “Alright,” said Ekem, “though I do not approve of such tactics, the point still goes to Ikenna.”

  Ekem stepped back and Ikenna immediately lunged forward again, using his sword this time. Esther—fully expecting Ikenna to attack her aggressively again—easily dodged the strike, side-stepping to the left, then twisting around and smacking Ikenna on the backside hard with her sword. Cheers went up from the keobere-osote surrounding them as Ikenna grabbed his buttocks and turned, glaring at her darkly, barely holding on to his rage.

  “Point to our guest,” said Ekem, then stepped back out of the way.

  This time Ikenna was more careful and circled her warily. Suddenly, Esther saw it. It was something in his body language that indicated he was about to attack, and from which direction it would come. Using every ounce of grace and dexterity that her dancing skills had instilled in her, Esther shot forward and to the right, ducking under his arm as he swung his sword up. She lunged behind him, swinging her sword in a backhanded motion as she flew past him, connecting with the back of his leg. She spun around and saw him fall to the ground as his knee buckled under him.

  Ikenna stood slowly. Esther could see the hate in his eyes as the others shouted in amazement and congratulations, patting her on the back.

  Leftananti Ekem stepped forward and shouted, “Alright, alright! Everyone calm down. We all have a lot of practice still to do, so now I am going to partner you up with another keobere-osote and we will spar.”

  “That she-boy is not a keobere-osote,” spat Ikenna, “It shouldn’t be here.”

  “That’s enough!” yelled Leftananti Ekem, “You will apologize to our guest or you will stand before the Ugbo and feel the lash.”

  Ikenna dropped his eyes and mumbled something.

  “What was that!” yelled Ekem.

  “Ndo,” said Ikenna, louder this time.

  “In Hadiqan, Ikenna!” said Ekem.

  “Sorry.”

  Ekem turned back to the rest of the class. “Leftananti Obi is coming over to help me judge the matches. Ndidi—you will spar with our guest next. The rest of you, pair off.”

  Ndidi wasn’t big, but it was obvious to Esther that he knew how to use the sword, given the way he held it and his confident attitude. When Leftananti Obi said ‘begin’, he just stood there, watching her warily. Esther tried a quick attack, but he blocked it easily. Then she saw it again—that moment when she knew he was going to attack. He lunged forward and Esther—anticipating the attack—turned sideways and stepped back. However, instead of lunging all the way, Ndidi stopped and deftly swung his arm up, bringing his sword around behind her. His initial attack was a feint! The sword struck her back, her skin stinging painfully. Esther turned to Ndidi, who backed up and smiled. Obviously, she still had a lot left to learn.

  Esther was more wary this time, much as Ikenna had been with her after she landed the blow on his backside. Ndidi was very confident now—perhaps she could use that against him. After a tense few seconds, he stepped forward again, bringing his sword down in a quick overhand strike. Esther brought her sword up to block the blow, but just as before, Ndidi’s attack was just a feint and he quickly changed the angle of attack, bringing the blow in from the side. This time, however, Esther had noticed that he hadn’t put much force behind his overhand strike and guessed correctly that he would try and feint again. She was prepared when he quickly changed the angle of his attack and easily blocked the blow, then quickly took a step forward, swinging the wooden practice sword down against his unprotected leg.

  “Point,” said Ekem and Ndidi stepped back, perhaps a little less confident this time, but still with a grin on his face. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

  Ekem stepped out of the way again and Ndidi immediately lunged straight towards her. Esther—afraid that she would be bowled over and totally unprepared for the swiftness and direction of his attack—stumbled over her feet as she tried to get out of the way. If it weren’t for her years of dancing, she would have tripped over her feet and fallen flat on her face. Even so, Ndidi’s lunging attack stung her backside as the wooden sword smacked against her buttocks and this time it was her turn to rub her bottom.

  Esther turned to Ndidi and saw a huge grin on his face and he bowed politely. Esther couldn’t help but grin back. He had won fairly, even if her backside still stung a bit. To show that there was no malice between them, Esther held out her hand and he shook it with another grin.

  Even though Esther had lost to Ndidi, two to one, as she rotated practicing with the other keobere-osote, she started doing better—much better. She won the next match two to one, and the third, two to zero. She ended up fighting each of the keobere-osote again, except Ikenna—who refused to even acknowledge her presence—and won each match without a hit being scored against her, with the exception of Ndidi, who only scored on her once.

  After the matches, the keobere-osote congratulated her, shaking her hand, and patting her on the back. All except Ikenna of course. He had stalked off angrily as soon as the sparring lesson was over.

  Suddenly, the Leftantanti Obi, Ekem, and the remaining keobere-osote froze and quickly braced to attention. “Onya-Ugbo na oche!” called Leftananti Obi.

  Esther turned and saw Amadi walking towards them. Not knowing what to do, she held her arms at her sides and simply stood there—though not quite as stiffly as the officers and keobere-osote around her.

  “Jū,” said Amadi as he approached. The men around her stood at ease and the crew continued about their tasks. Amadi walked up to them, then glanced down at Esther. “I see that you can beat our midshipmen,” he said in Northern, “That is truly impressive and they will dedicate more time to improving their skills now that they were beaten by a young woman.”

  Amadi turned and nodded over to a tall young man who stood several feet away. He was different from the keobere-osote. Instead of the yellow leggings, his were brown and his shirt was a cream color. He held a long spear in his hand, its butt against the deck and pointing into the air. He carried a bag on his hip, its long strap looping up over his head to rest on his shoulder. His hair was cropped very close and his dark eyes seemed to see past her physical being and into the essence of her character, but were themselves unreadable.

  “One of our young warriors watched you and would like to spar against you,” said Amadi.

  Esther hesitated. She’d love to spar again, but Ikenna had reacted very poorly. The other keobere-osote didn’t seem to mind as much, and even seemed to enjoy sparring with her, but an actual warrior might get upset like Ikenna had—especially if she won. But I’ll probably give greater offense by refusing to fight, she thought. Finally she nodded, wiping her forehead with her shirt sleeve.

  “Excellent,” Amadi said, then stepped back as the young warrior came forward. “I would love to stay and watch, but alas, I have duties that I must see to, as do the keobere-osote. Leftananti Ekem will stay and chaperone the match.”

  He pulled off his bag and laid it and his spear on the ground, then turned towards her.

  “I am Oluchi,” said the young warrior, “My Hadiqan not very good, but I pleased to meet you.”

  “Thank you,” Esther replied, speaking a little s
lower in case he had trouble understanding, “I am Esther.” She held out her hand and he shook it.

  Leftananti Ekem tried handing Oluchi a sword, but Oluchi simply shook his head. Ekem didn’t seem surprised. Ekem stepped away and said, “Begin!”

  Esther stood there, stunned that Oluchi hadn’t taken a sword, but then realized the match had started and immediately adjusted her footing into a defensive stance. As soon as she got into position, Oluchi shot forward, grabbing her sword hand and shoving her back against the side railing of the ship, pinning her sword arm to her chest.

  “Remember,” he said, his face just inches from her own, “You never be as strong as opponent. You must take initiative, not just use defense. ”

  Esther nodded and he stepped back. Leftananti Ekem signaled for them to start again and this time, Esther took a more aggressive approach, lunging forward to strike his left leg. It didn’t seem to help much because somehow Oluchi ended up holding her own sword to her throat. Time after time they started again, and each time, Oluchi defeated her with what seemed like surprising ease. Each time he would explain what she had done wrong and what she should have done. After fighting and winning the keobere-osote, Esther had felt pretty confident. Now, her pride had been crushed by Oluchi’s speed, skill, and strength.

  After the match, Esther sat on the deck, her back against the side railing, drinking a cup of water. Leftananti Ekem had left and only Oluchi stood nearby, staring off into the distance. The heat of the hot afternoon sun, the intensity of fighting, and the thickness of the rough material of her dress and leggings had caused her to become dehydrated. Sweat had soaked through the dress on her chest and armpits and she could feel the leggings cloying to her legs. Although the exercise had felt good, she felt quite…icky at the moment. She really liked the divided riding skirt, but she missed the light material and slightly lower florentine necklines of her dresses from home as they helped keep her much cooler—and she hated having to wear thick leggings. She wondered if there was a material that could be used to make a lighter pair—ones that would breathe better.

  Esther turned her head to look at Oluchi and wondered what he was thinking. As if he heard her thoughts, he suddenly turned and walked over, sitting down next to her.

  “I notice your dagger,” he said.

  Esther looked down at the dagger that she’d taken from the Madrausan she had killed.

  “Where it come from?” he asked.

  “I…killed a man,” Esther said, “I took it from him.”

  Oluchi nodded, then asked “Madrausan?”

  Esther nodded.

  “You very skilled,” said Oluchi.

  “No,” Esther replied, “Just very lucky.”

  “Perhaps,” Oluchi shrugged, “But you did very good fighting today.”

  “Against those who are as untrained as I am,” said Esther, “You beat me every time.”

  “Yes, but I warrior all my life. Bigger, stronger—more training. You still faster. You made it hard for me.”

  “I did?” Esther said, her hopes rising.

  Oluchi held up his hand with his thumb and index finger almost touching. “A little,” he said, smiling.

  “Oh ptssch,” she said and gave him a shove.

  “May I see it?” he asked.

  “The dagger?” Oluchi nodded. “Sure,” she said, unsnapping the strap and gently pulling it out of its scabbard. She laid it across the palm of her right hand and handed it to Oluchi. He took it from her and examined it.

  “It very nice dagger,” he said, “Do you know how to use?”

  “Not very well.”

  “Would you like me show you?” he asked, “I could show you my throwing knives too.”

  “Really?!” she said.

  Oluchi nodded.

  “I would really like that! Thank you, Oluchi!” she said, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a brief hug.

  “It my pleasure,” he said, grinning broadly, “Besides, perhaps you can teach me more Hadiqan while we practice.”

  “Of course,” Esther replied, knowing full well that Oluchi could go to any number of people for those lessons and didn’t need her to teach him—but it did make her feel better about taking lessons from him.

  “Good,” he said, standing, “We start first thing in morning?”

  Esther nodded.

  “Alright. Have good night then, Miss Esther.”

  “Just call me Esther,” she said, looking up at him, “And you have a good night too.”

  Oluchi nodded and walked away.

  - - -

  After Oluchi had left, Esther got up and descended the companionway to the deck where her living quarters were. She figured dinner would be served soon and she wanted to change and get cleaned up. She couldn’t very well show up to dinner in her sweat stained dress. She had just stepped off the companionway and was making her way to the aft hallway when she heard someone call after her.

  She turned and saw Geoffrey coming up the companionway. “Oh, hi Geoffrey.”

  “Hi,” he said, stepping over to her, “I saw you on the companionway and thought I’d catch up with you real quick. I’ve spent most of the afternoon down in sick bay, talking with their ship’s surgeon and surgeon’s mate. This ship is so big, they need a surgeon’s mate, can you believe it?”

  Esther smiled as they continued walking. “Sounds fascinating,” she said, “Did you learn anything new?”

  “Oh yes. I’ve written them all here in this notebook that they gave me,” Geoffrey said, holding it up for her to see, “I’m dying to try out this new type of material they use for thread when stitching up their patients. I think it will significantly decrease infections. What about you?” he asked, looking down at her clothes. He must have noticed how disheveled and grungy she looked. “What have you been up to? You look like you’ve spent all day doing manual labor in the sun. And is that a bruise on your cheek?!”

  Esther raised her hand to her face. It felt a bit sensitive. It must’ve gotten bruised when Ikenna struck the side of her head.

  “My heavens, Esther! What in the world happened to you?”

  “Well, I was participating with the keobere-osote—”

  “The what?”

  “The keobere-osote. They are equivalent to midshipmen—anyway, do you remember how Captain Amadi said I could continue working with them to learn how to use the sword? Well, I let my guard down…” She shrugged.

  He grabbed her arm and stopped them in the hallway. “You mean that they actually allowed you to fight? And you did?!” he asked incredulously.

  “I, uh…kind of insisted,” Esther said, looking down at the deck.

  “Oh boy, Mac is not going to be happy with you,” he said. “Here, let me take a look at it. Where were you hit exactly?”

  “Right here,” said Esther, turning her head and pointing to the right side of her face, just in front of her ear.

  He held her chin and jaw with his fingers, then said, “I’m going to need better light, and I think we should take you down to sick bay. I want to check to see if you may have a cerebral concussion.”

  “What’s that?” she asked, turning to look at him.

  “Well, some call it ‘commotion of the brain’. Basically, it’s when your brain gets shaken around in your head. When you were hit, did you to fall unconscious?”

  “No,” replied Esther, “I tried to roll with the punch and throw myself out of the way, but I wasn’t fast enough.”

  “Someone punched you? I thought you were using practice swords?” asked Geoffrey.

  Esther simply shrugged.

  Geoffrey sighed. “Alright, come on then. Let’s get you down to the sickbay so I can check you out properly.”

  Geoffrey led her down the companionway to the next deck below. Esther had never been on this deck before and was surprised by the sheer number of cannon’s lining the port and starboard sides of the hull—more than she’d ever seen before. Of course, she’d only been on the Nautilus and the
Madrausan warship, but she was still astounded by how many there were.

  A large area in the center of the deck was covered by what looked to be removable panels. A very thick rope extended from a hole in the center of the panels up to a couple of large pulley’s secured to the ceiling, then over and down to a massive capstan on the port side. Four other smaller capstan’s were spaced around the area in the center of the deck as well, with their own ropes extending up to pulleys set in the ceiling above the four corners of the center deck area. This must be part of the platform system to lift cargo up into the ship.

  Looking aft, she saw a large open space with cargo tied down and two large structures with doors that might be cabins, storage, or have other uses. Geoffrey led her forward past rows of hammocks and other bedding spread throughout the area. This must be the main crew berthing area. At the very front of the ship, a door led into a fairly large room where cots sat along both port and starboard walls as they angled in at the bow. Tables stood in the middle of the room and cabinets hung along the fore and aft walls. Quite a few lanterns hung on the walls and ceiling of the room, presumably to provide as much light as possible from many different angles. It was a very well equipped sickbay. She and Geoffrey were the only two people in the room at the moment.

  “Let’s have you hop up and sit on one of these tables for me, if you would?” he said.

  Esther did so as Geoffrey opened a cabinet, pulled out a candle, and lit it. He walked back over and held the candle directly in front of each of her eyes, causing her to squint at its brightness.

  “Have you had a headache, vomiting, disorientation, or slowed reaction times?”

 

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