Chapter 28 - An Old Teacher
"Rocky," Massimaferro said to the guard that was following him, "Your people can stand guard around the house, but do not come in no matter what you hear. Got me?"
"Are you sure, sir?" the guard asked him, "After the attempt on Medoferro yesterday?"
"I’ve known this man for twenty-five years," Massimaferro told him, "He isn’t a danger to me, but he might be to your men if they come into the building without him knowing it. Trust me on this."
It was clear that the guard didn’t like it, but he followed his commander’s instructions. He walked in to the old stone house, the acoustics of which were still enough to make Massimaferro cringe a little. He looked around for the man he sought, but there was no sign of him.
Massimaferro looked around, his senses alert for an attack. He knew that his old teacher would likely take the opportunity to test the lessons. He tensed up and took note of his surroundings, letting his ears work overtime in the heavy acoustics of the stone building.
He continued walking around slowly, letting his mind regress to the training of many years before. His eyes flittered around the room, looking for possible weapons and strategic advantages. Finally, the attack he was expecting took place. An old man let off a perfect roundhouse kick at Massimaferro’s head, which he dodged by doing a forward roll onto the carpet.
Massimaferro was up and on his feet again within seconds, getting into a defensive stance to face off with his old teacher. This was what Massimaferro had been expecting, as the old teacher would do similar things even when he was a young apprentice being trained in self-defense. It had been many years since he’d actively trained with the man, but Massimaferro had not forgotten his lessons.
The old man let off a flurry of blows at Massimaferro that would have made a man forty years his junior envious. Massimaferro, his reflexes only slightly slowed by age and inactivity, met each one of them and knocked them aside. The old man then slid an unexpected blow beneath the blocks and sent the Mullinix backwards.
Massimaferro recovered quickly, counterattacking with a kick to the leg as he went down. He rolled backwards, flipping back up onto his feet and getting a foot in the center of his chest, knocking the wind out of him. He fought that and tried to get a few hits in, managing to get one to the old man’s side before getting backed up against a wall.
"I yield," Massimaferro croaked as the old man’s hand approached his throat.
"You’re getting soft, Massimaferro," the old man said sharply and then smiled, "But not too bad for someone who is out of practice. When is the last time you worked out?"
"Not for a while," Massimaferro admitted, "At least not like that. It’s nice to see you’re still the same old sneaky bastard who taught me as a kid."
"You were young and impetuous," the old man laughed, "And I can still kick your rear."
"I never doubted it for a second," Massimaferro said, "So how has life been treating you, you old thief?"
"Age approaches," he admitted and turned towards the sitting room, "But I refuse to yield to it."
"You’ve never yielded to anything in your life," Massimaferro chuckled, "Why am I not surprised by this?"
"So you are the chief now that old Taliaferro has passed," The old man said, "I hope you’re a better ruler than you were a student."
"I kinda have to be," Massimaferro told him, "But I think I retained some of what you taught me."
"So what brings you here?" the old man asked him as he sat down, tossing Massimaferro a towel as he did so, "Surely you have better things to do than to come visit your old teacher."
"I should have done this long ago," Massimaferro said, wiping himself off a little, "Maybe I would have fared better."
"Practice," the old man reminded him, "I work out every day. I intend to do that until the day I die."
"Do you still teach?" Massimaferro asked him, "Or are you just enjoying your daily workouts now?"
"I’m too damn old to take regular students," the old man said, "I’ll be feeling the effects from this one for days."
"That’s good," Massimaferro chuckled, "I’ll have to wear long sleeve shirts in session to keep rumors from starting about the bruises. Nice to know I’m not alone in that."
"I’m guessing your visit here isn’t completely social," the old man said, "I heard about what happened to your new apprentice yesterday. Is he ok?"
"He’s alive," Massimaferro said, "But he’s not going to be ok until he learns to defend himself properly."
"I haven’t taken on a class in a long time," the old man stated.
"There is still nobody better," Massimaferro said, "It would only be two students."
"Two?" the old man asked.
"Medo will have to choose his personal representative soon," Massimaferro told him, "I would like both of them to go through the training, preferably together. You could have them work out on each other instead of just on you."
"You knew I would take it, didn’t you?" The old man asked him, "Knew it before you even came in the door."
"Of course I did," Massimaferro smiled, "You never could resist a challenge."
"I saw him at the changing ceremony," the old man said, "What is the kid like?"
"Quiet," Massimaferro said, "Not like me. Iggy thinks he has a good head on his shoulders and he knows when to question something. He probably won’t take to the physical end of it as well as I did though."
"Good," the old man said, smiling brightly, "His skull may not be so thick as yours, so I probably won’t have to beat on him as badly."
"He doesn’t need offensive," Massimaferro said, "He isn’t built like I am so probably will be more of a defensive base."
"I’ll make that judgment when I see him," the old man frowned, letting Massimaferro know he was being presumptuous, "I have but one request."
"In addition to your usual fee, of course," Massimaferro grinned, "What is it?"
"The training needs to be done here instead of at the palace," the old man said, "I don’t feel like dealing with all those people anymore and I’m sure Insegniferro will be perfectly happy not to deal with me either."
The old teacher and Insegniferro had differed greatly on the point of Massimaferro’s teaching, with the Mullinix much preferring the scholarly pursuits to the rigors of fighting. The old animosity was apparent, even after all these years.
"That can be arranged," Massimaferro agreed, "It will do Medo good to get out of the palace in a controlled atmosphere."
"You know how my training goes," the old man said, "I’ll want them regularly for a couple weeks and then three intensive days."
"I figured as much," Massimaferro agreed, "I know better than to doubt your training judgment. It will be as you ask."
"I have two students that are just about ready," the old man said, "I can take your two starting next week."
"They will be here," Massimaferro promised, getting up and shaking the old man’s hand, "Thank you for taking them."
"It would be a shame for you to have gone through that awful ceremony for nothing," the old man said, "Now go on back and take care of the country. You don’t have to waste any more time with me."
Massimaferro knew him well enough to know that he’d been dismissed. He left the building with a smile on his face, knowing full well that he had done pretty well for someone who hadn’t been exercising his skills regularly. He almost envied Medoferro in a way, for getting to start this training from the beginning. Almost.
The Mullinix Book 1: Ascension Page 30