"I'll go first," offered Brenn and without waiting for an answer he was off, sprinting to the edge and then springing across to land lightly in a crouch. "Come on, it's ok!" he called.
Luan was next. Gathering his courage he ran the four steps to the roof edge and leaped. For a moment he hung above the cleft of blackness between the houses before his feet hit the roof, slipping on tiles made wet by snow. Brenn grabbed his shoulder providing a welcome sense of security.
"Ok Fin, your turn!" Luan called across the wind.
"Did I mention I'm scared of heights?" Fin called back. At that moment something appeared on the ridge line behind him, large, indistinct, a shadow darker than the night around it.
"Jump!" shouted Luan.
"Don't look back!" Brenn's voice was shrill on the wind. Fin glanced over his shoulder and threw himself forward, an ungainly mass of whirling limbs. His feet hit the very edge of the roof and he teetered momentarily on the brink before Luan and Brenn pulled him to safety.
"Keep going!" The boys scrambled up the roof and threw themselves over the ridge. There they stopped, flat on their backs and listened.
"Turns out I'm more scared of things that loom out of the darkness behind me!"
"Shut up Fin!" whispered Brenn, and then, "can you hear it? Is it coming?"
They lay still for a long moment, the only sound their ragged breathing. Suddenly, there was a loud crack, as something hit the roof behind them. Luan jumped and started to slide down the roof. Fin grabbed his arm. Brenn rolled onto his front and worked his way up until he could see over the ridge line. Smack! He ducked as the sound came again.
"What is it?" Fin called to him.
"Looks like a shingle," the smaller boy called back. "Look out!"
Luan saw something hurtling down and rolled away. The roof tile thudded down inches from his head.
"Time to go!" shouted Fin and scampered down the roof and jumped the gap to the next building.
"Come on Brenn," Luan called and set off after him. Brenn followed, half crouching as another shingle rained down to crash onto the tiles. The boys raced up and over the next ridge and slid down the far side. Here they stopped again.
"What is it?" asked Fin
"Don't know," Luan replied.
"Is it coming?" asked Brenn.
"Don't know," Luan replied again
"Keep going?" Fin and Brenn asked in unison.
"Keep going!" Luan nodded.
The next roof was a longer jump but lower. Luan felt like he hung in the air for an age before he thumped down. He heard a "whoaoooooeeerrrr!" behind him and made room for Fin who landed badly, stumbled and lurched forward into Brenn.
"Clumsy oaf!" Brenn pushed Fin off, who looked hurt.
"There's the way down." Luan pointed at the roof of a lean-to stable that reached almost to the ground. "Come on!"
A few minutes later they crossed the square to the gatehouse of the Guild, walking quickly and glancing nervously behind.
"What have you done with Cail?" It was the same guard who had seen them leave.
"Left him in the pub!" replied Fin.
"Aye, well!" The guard rolled his eyes. "That sounds about right!" and he stood aside to let them pass.
IT FELT GOOD TO BE back in the training hall again, the weight of the practice sword solid in his hands. After weeks of training the cadre were starting to show their potential and the boys were starting to develop their own styles. Drustan still relied on muscle but was starting to develop speed. Fin fought with stamina, stringing together long series of strikes and cuts that wore opponents down. Brenn was agile, able to dance out of the way of a blade, teasing his opponents to use up their strength before striking at any gap in their defence. The Ghost fought with an intense fury, a calculating fighter who never wasted a movement. The Weasel was dirty and tricky, a favourite of Sargent Crow, using any ploy to bring down the opposition. Luan, on the other hand, was struggling. He had learned all the defences and all the strikes, his footwork was good, he was strong and fast but something was missing. 'Still,' Luan thought, 'plenty of time yet.'
His sparring partner was Stav, slightly taller than himself but thinner, dirty blonde hair above blue eyes and permanently fixed grin. They bowed to each other, raised their swords in ritual greeting and then both assumed warrior stance, signalling the start of the bout.
Luan allowed Stav to move first. Some would say that this gave up initiative, but Luan preferred to wait and gauge his opponent’s skill and style. Watch and learn, look for the weaknesses, then exploit them, that was his nature. Stav paused then feinted left before lunging forward aiming to strike directly at Luan’s chest. Luan stepped back, easily deflecting the wooden blade and brought his own sword up, anticipating the next blow as Stav's sword whipped down towards his head. Luan deflected again and then countered with a well-aimed cut that whipped his blade sideways in an arc at his opponent’s wrists. Stav countered with his own strike and for a second their blades wound around each other before Luan suddenly stepped in, shoulder barging Stav in the chest. The tall boy took a step back, freeing his sword, and they paused for a second. This time Luan took the initiative, stepping forward and aiming a series of blows at Stav who parried, absorbing the blows, stepping backward until the chance came. Suddenly he drove forward, pushing Luan back with a quick combination of strokes to the head and body. Luan parried desperately but even as he retreated Luan spotted the gap, an instinctive knowledge of the right strike. Too late he lunged forward, already knowing that the chance had gone. Stav's grin was broad as he slammed his sword down on his opponent's, and then used the momentum to body slam the off balance Luan to the floor.
"Yield?" he asked, the point of his practice sword touching Luan’s chest.
"Yield!" said Luan with a sigh, grabbing Stav's arm and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.
"You almost had me there," Stav continued. "You were unlucky really."
But Luan knew that luck had nothing to do with it. Looking over the other boy's shoulder his eyes met those of Sword. It was clear that the grim master knew it as well.
LUAN WASN'T SURPRISED that Sword asked him to stay behind.
"How do you think you are progressing?" Sword asked.
"Well enough," Luan replied a little defensively.
"Explain."
"Well," Luan continued. "I'm quick and strong, my footwork is good, and I know all the strikes and guards..."
"But you just died."
"What?"
"In the fight with Stav. If that was a real fight you would be dead, wouldn't you?"
"Well, yes..."
"Chances are, the first time you get into a real fight you're going to die."
"What?"
"So we might as well get it over with. Come on!" Sword turned and walked over to the racks where the practice swords were kept. Chained against the wall was a rack of real swords. Taking a key chain from around his neck the grey haired sword master unlocked the rack and took out two swords and tested the edges with his thumb.
"These should be sharp enough," he said. "We keep them a bit blunt but they should still do the job. Here!" And he held out one of the swords. Luan, still not believing what was happening took hold of the hilt. The sword felt cold and heavy in his hand. It had none of the beauty of his uncle's sword, just a lump of dead metal, but lethal nonetheless. With a start he realised that the sword master was holding his blade at the salute. Still feeling a sense of disbelief he slowly raised his own sword and then assumed his guard.
"Make no mistake," Sword smiled like a snake. "I'm going to try to kill you"
As the last word left his lips he struck three times, lightening quick, at head, body and upper arm. Luan parried desperately, only just deflecting the blade.
"You see there is no point in wasting time training you if you're just going to die." Sword smiled again as he circled Luan. "If I kill you now I've saved myself a lot of time," and he lunged forward, the point of his sword seeking Luan’s
throat. Luan parried and leaned back, expecting another strike but Sword stepped back again.
"You can't do this!" Fear was starting to replace surprise and with it Luan started to get angry.
"Can't I?" replied Sword. "You see Luan, you are a thoughtful and reasonable boy, but a fight is neither thoughtful nor reasonable." Sword launched two more attacks but Luan was waiting and parried easily. Sword stepped back but his blade flicked forward catching Luan by surprise. Pain seared through Luan as the tip cut a three inch gash across his shoulder. He cried out involuntarily as blood welled into the torn fabric of his jerkin.
"The pain should help," Sword stated, circling Luan once again. "Use it, use the fear, find within you the desire to kill." He leaped forward again, sword flickering like a tongue of fire. Blinded by pain and fear, Luan had no time to think, he reacted instinctively with a parry, bringing up his blade to block his opponent’s. Something changed within him and he was simultaneously aware of his fighting and of acting entirely instinctively. Time seemed to slow, the sword became alive in his hands, the movement of his teacher's blade a pattern of which he was part. There! The thought and the action were simultaneous as he slipped his blade inside his opponents guard, forcing him to dance backwards to avoid the strike. This time Luan circled his tormentor, oblivious to the blood that dripped from his arm.
"Very good!" The smile seemed a shade less reptilian. "There is hope after all!"
"Not for you!" Luan replied and attacked furiously, raining down blows, trying to push back his foe. But the moment had passed. Sword easily parried his attacks and then as Luan faltered the teacher's blade shot out to rap across the boy's hands. Luan’s sword clanged on the floor and he stopped, hands numb, and stared down at the point of the sword at his throat. For a long moment they stood, the teacher and the boy, and then Sword smiled, and lowered his blade.
"You let your anger get the better of you," he said, "but for a moment you were a warrior. Remember that feeling and learn to find it within you."
Luan was suddenly aware of the pain in his arm and he touched the wound gingerly. It had started to scab but his hand came away bloody.
"You'll have a scar," said his teacher. "A reminder of a lesson learned."
"OUCH!"
"Stop being such a baby!" scolded Fin. "This needs to be cleaned," and he carried on dabbing at the wound.
"I can't believe he cut you!" Brenn was lying on his bed, feet crossed, hands behind his head.
"I thought he was going to kill me!" replied Luan.
"He wouldn't do that!" Brenn scoffed.
"He might," Fin joined in. "Luan wouldn't be the first boy to die in training would he?" They all thought about this for a moment.
"I suppose this means he isn't the killer," said Brenn. "I mean, he had the chance, and didn't take it."
"Doesn't mean we're much closer though," reflected Luan. "It's nearly a week since we got chased over the rooftops."
"At least there's been no more attacks in that time," replied Brenn.
"Maybe that's because you two haven't let me out of your sight!"
"I still don't get how it fits together," Fin added. "There's the hound that you saw, but there must be a man as well. It wasn't some big dog that was throwing roof tiles at us."
"I think the dog is just a warning," Luan replied. "But we need to find out."
"We need to contact that House of Collection place," said Brenn.
"The one you don't believe in?" teased Fin
"I didn't believe in ghostly hounds either!" said Brenn. "Luan, this moving between the world's thing, can you control it?"
Luan thought for a moment. "I never have," he replied. "But I do think I am starting to understand it a bit."
"How do you mean?" asked Fin
"Well, I can feel when it's close."
"What's close?"
"The other world, and I feel it more at edges, or boundaries."
"Not following you." Brenn looked at Fin. "You?"
"No," Fin replied and looked at Luan. "Try again!"
Luan shrugged. "Well, like twilight when it is between light and dark, a river edge, a hilltop. It's where one thing meets the other and especially somewhere very old."
Brenn looked puzzled. "How come?"
"Maybe it is where the past meets the present?"
Fin finished binding a cloth around Luan’s shoulder and started to pace up and down.
"Let's see if I've got this right," he said. "We need to get you to somewhere old that is high up or on the edge of a river, at either dusk or dawn".
"Should be easy enough!" joked Brenn.
"I don't think it has to be all of them," replied Luan.
"So where does that give us?" asked Fin.
Luan thought for a second. "When I left the House of Collection I came out at a ruin on a hilltop to the south of the town. It was about a day’s march away."
"Possible," said Fin, "but difficult, hard to get away for that long. We could do with somewhere closer."
"What about the Great Hall?" suggested Brenn. "It is the oldest building in the guild."
"What do you think?" Fin looked enquiringly at Luan.
"Maybe," Luan replied.
"Then we should try it," Fin decided. "If it doesn't work we can always try to get to that ruin."
"When?" asked Brenn.
"I don't think there is any time to waste," replied Fin. "I say, tomorrow, at dawn!"
Nine – The Broken Path
It is important to keep bad habits at a minimum and take the time to actually lift and place the feet, as this will improve longevity of the joints of the leg, while simultaneously putting them in a more habitually stronger position.
THE PATH WAS SCUFFED and broken. Luan could see that once it had been well made, flags of stone fitted carefully together, low walls at either side lined with plinths and balustrades. Now all was broken, cracks in the stone beneath his feet and ivy wreathed stumps where once a statue stood. He stepped carefully where the path had collapsed into an old drain, a wide gap filled with rubble. Luan felt the weight of his sword on his back and was comforted. To his right the ground dropped away as the path wound around the hillside, on his left the cliffs burst with heather. As he turned a corner, the city came into view and even ruined it was still an impressive sight.
It stood on a spur that jutted out from the cliffs, reached by a bridge that spanned a deep cleft in the hills. Before the bridge a great arch had once stood. Now the left hand pillar was broken off at head height, the other a lone sentinel reaching towards the hillside for support. Great blocks of marble were strewn over the path. Beyond the bridge the roadway disappeared into the wall that rose sheer from the cliffs below. To Luan the city looked more like a single building, several stories high and impossibly wide. It must have been magnificent once but time had done its patient work, the sharp corners of finely cut stone eroded into softness.
Luan continued up the path which rose steadily as he approached the arch. Just as he was about to pick his way between the blocks of fallen stone, a figure appeared out of the shadow. With a shock Luan recognised the fair hair and tattooed skin.
"Hail sword brother!" Zand greeted him just as he had before.
"Zand? What are you doing here?"
"I would ask you the same! And do you know where here is?"
Luan looked about him. "I know it somehow," he replied, "but I could not name it."
Luan stood awkwardly as Zand held his gaze and again those eyes seemed to hold the weight of long ages.
"I could name it for you," he replied finally, "but first I would have you name yourself."
"I am Luan ap Garioch, and I follow the path of swords."
Zand smiled and inclined his head.
"Very well Luan ap Garioch. This is the fortress of Cy Malg, ancient before your kingdom was birthed, and abandoned for hundreds of years."
"But why am I here?"
"I suspect you are here to meet me." Zand smiled. "To meet someon
e from another world once could be a coincidence, but twice? That has a touch of destiny to it!"
"Destiny?" Luan echoed. "I don't know what you mean."
"Maybe destiny is not the right word." Zand's smile changed to a frown. "Maybe fate is a better one, and some fates are better than others. Do you remember when we met and I told you of the creature we hunt?"
"Yes," replied Luan. "You said that you were worried it might find me."
Zand’s frown deepened. "We now know that the creature has been summoned through to your world, each time it has come back stronger and that can mean only one thing."
"What?"
"It has killed!"
"What is this creature?" Luan asked.
"It is named the Selgir Orduin, in your tongue it would be 'Night Hunter'."
"WAKE UP LUAN!" THE hand on his arm was shaking him roughly as the dream drained out of him.
"Huh?" He sat up, disorientated, eyes gritty with sleep.
"Time to go!" Fin pulled him to his feet. Brenn was already moving toward the door. They made their way carefully past the sleeping boys of their cadre. Outside the darkness was oppressive with just a faint hint of lightness in the East. The cold air stung their lungs with every breath.
"We haven't got much time," said Brenn looking towards the eastern sky. "Better hurry!"
They set off towards the central hall of the Klaideem, keeping an eye out for patrols. Soon they made their way up the wide stone steps. The great wooden doors were closed and, as Fin discovered, locked.
"What now?" he asked.
The Guild of Warriors Page 7