"I like you Luan lad!" he shouted. "Now we show them hey?" and he threw himself back into the fray.
For the next few minutes the two boys showed every trick and skill they had learned in their time at the Guild. Although they fought in earnest, there was a playfulness to it that had the watching boys on their feet and their masters shouting and applauding. For the first time Luan really felt he was enjoying a fight. Druca seemed to have forgotten about winning, he seemed delighted just to be part of it. When, finally, Luan took the opportunity to disarm his opponent, Druca yielded at once, taking Luan’s arm and holding it in the air to show he was the victor, and sharing the applause of the crowd.
Fourteeen – Facing the Enemy
Therefore, learn to relax your muscles to move freely, rotate your hips in order to spin quickly, be light and nimble in your feet. Develop speed.
"NOW THIS MAY STING a little..."
"Ow!"
"...but we don't want that scratch getting infected."
Luan shook his head to clear the pain. The elderly man had probed the bloody wound, declared his skull intact, and then applied a salve to help it heal.
"Do you feel dizzy at all?" The healer put his forefinger under the boy's chin, lifted the head and looked into his eyes.
"No, not really," Luan replied. The old man nodded, seemingly satisfied with the response.
"Alright, you're fit to go. But be careful!"
"I will, and thank you." Luan smiled as he walked away, thinking it was better not to mention that he would be fighting again that very afternoon.
Brenn and Fin were waiting outside. .
"Well?" Brenn asked eagerly.
"I won."
"Yes!" shouted Brenn.
"Knew you would!" Fin clapped Luan on the shoulder. "Not too badly hurt I hope?"
"I'm ok," Luan replied. "Just a scratch really. What about you?"
Fin was looking better but his arm was in a sling.
"Apparently the muscles between my ribs are torn." He smiled grimly.
"Yeah," Brenn continued, "arm in a sling and no exercise for a week!"
"Oh no!" Luan exclaimed. "So you're not allowed to fight?"
"No." The moment of pain that flickered on the stocky boy's face was quickly replaced by a grin. "At least you stand a chance of winning now!"
"The draw will work as follows." Sword stood in the centre of the fighting space. "There are now three boys left. The first two names drawn will fight each other for a place in the final where they will meet the remaining competitor." A hubbub of noise broke out among the watching boys. The sword-master held up his hand for silence and continued. "This may be an unusual situation, but this is the correct procedure!"
Silence fell as three chits were put in a helmet and shaken. The first name drawn was Drustan. The second was Stav. Luan was through to the final.
It was with a growing sense of dislocation that Luan watched the fight between the other two boys. It was a hard fight and a close one as the pair were well matched but he found it difficult to watch. He was aware that Fin and Brenn were living every second of it, shouting out their support for Stav and commenting on each exchange of blows. Even as the fight reached a climax Luan felt his attention drawn away. Suddenly the spot between his shoulder blades tingled and a wave of cold fear swept over him. He turned slowly, dreading what he might see but under a compulsion to know. Behind them the doorway was a brilliant white compared with the dim interior of the practice hall. As Luan watched a low shadow flitted in front of the light. Before he had chance to react it came again, slipping slowly into the space. It hovered and then settled as shapes moved within it, finally coalescing into a solid form. In the doorway sat the black dog.
The noise of the fight receded as Luan felt his vision contract around the dark spectre that haunted him. He found himself walking slowly towards the doorway yet he could not remember leaving his seat. The space around the black dog seethed as if something unseen struggled to break through. Luan felt his fingers flex, grasping for the sword he didn't have. He desperately wanted to turn and run but that part of him was no longer in control. There was another part of him that welcomed the compulsion that drew him on. A part of him that was tired of running, which wanted to finish it.
"Luan!" A hand grabbed his arm and spun him around. A face peered into his. Luan blinked, recognition failing.
"What? Who?"
"What's the matter?"
"Let me go! I have to ..."
"What?"
"He's having one of his funny turns." A different voice.
"The black dog!"
"There's nothing there." At last Luan recognised the first voice: Brenn.
"Luan, get a grip. You've got to fight." That was Fin. "He's really out of it."
Luan was drowning, aware that the surface was above him but unable to reach it. He tried to speak but the words would not come. On one level he was aware of Brenn and Fin, but his consciousness was overcome by the brooding menace dominating his senses. Suddenly a stinging slap knocked his head sideways. For a moment the darkness receded and his vision cleared.
"Sorry," Brenn looked at him anxiously.
"Luan, come on!" Fin sounded desperate. Luan tried to answer but he was already slipping away.
"Hit him again," Fin ordered Brenn, "harder."
"I can't," Brenn replied, "I'll hurt him."
"That's the whole ..." Fin pushed Brenn out of the way. "Never mind, I'll have a go."
The blow from Fin's fist rocked Luan back and he staggered. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and a moment later his eyes screwed shut and he bent over in pain.
"Aaarghhh!" The noise burst incoherently from his mouth.
"Are you hurt?" asked Brenn nervously.
"Yes," answered Fin sucking his left fist, "I think I broke a knuckle."
"Not you, you idiot," Brenn replied. He turned back to Luan. "Are you back with us?" Luan nodded, still unable to talk but only from the pain. He spat blood on the floor and straightened up. Brenn looked carefully into his friend's eyes, at first relieved that Luan was freed of whatever had haunted him, but then aware that Luan looked more angry than Brenn had ever seen him. Brenn stepped back nervously. Fin, about to make some stupid comment, stopped and held up his hand placatingly.
"Look," he said. "I was just trying to help..."
Luan ignored him.
"Where's my sword?" he asked coldly.
Luan stepped into the fighting space with his head bandaged, blood still running down his face and a wild look in his eyes.
The silence that greeted his strange appearance was quickly replaced by the exited chatter of the watching boys. Drustan looked up from the conversation with his cronies, stared incredulously and then burst out laughing.
"Look at the state of him!" he called out. "And I haven't even started yet."
Laughter rattled round the watching boys. Luan ignored it. Deliberately he raised the practice sword, adopted the Warriors stance and then jerked his chin at Drustan. The hulking boy's eyes widened in surprise. With a grin he strode into the practice space. The wooden blade whistled through the air in three great arcs before finishing in the traditional salute. Silence fell around the hall as the two boys faced each other. The seconds stretched out. Luan felt perfectly centred. The pain and the fear had combined to free that other consciousness so attuned to battle. When Drustan attacked the response was so fast that it looked as if Luan had made the first move.
AFTERWARDS LUAN FELT nothing other than a terrible sense of anti-climax. He had accepted the cheers and congratulations with good grace but as soon as possible he had pushed his way through the mass of boys and sat down heavily on the nearest bench. Fin and Brenn, animated by his win, chattered to each other. Luan responded without really listening to even his own words. After a while even Fin realised that his friend needed to be left alone and allowed Brenn to drag him away. Soon the hall was empty. Still Luan sat, hunched forward, arms on his knees, his hands d
angling. The weight he felt dragged his eyelids closed.
"You fought well." The sword-master's voice jerked Luan awake. He looked up at the tall figure.
"With a real sword I would have killed him."
Sword smiled humourlessly. "As I said, you fought well."
"Is this what winning feels like?"
The sword master sat down next to Luan.
"For some of us," he admitted.
"I don't want to feel like this again."
"It is better than the alternative."
Luan considered this for a moment before acknowledging the truth of the statement.
"Why do I feel like this?" he asked. "Why do I fear the part of me that fights so well?"
"Maybe it is because you can imagine the damage you can inflict," Sword replied.
"I don't want to." Luan hesitated and then continued, "I killed someone, caused their death at least. I told the Captean about it when I got here."
"What did he say?"
"That I shouldn't worry about slaver scum."
Sword smiled.
"That sounds about right. A good fighter but not the most sensitive soul. I remember him from when he started. Strong and brave but not given to thinking too much. A bit like Drustan or Fin."
"Fin's not like Drustan!"
"They're not so different. I think Fin has just been lucky in his choice of friends. But if he had met Drustan first rather than you, what then?"
"But Drustan is such a bully."
"He is, and his father before him. Drustan has spent the whole of his short life trying to please his tyrant of a father. He has been taught that to be anything less than the strongest is to be a failure. It is not unusual for people to hate most in others the thing they fear most in themselves. He is so scared of showing weakness that he despises those he sees as weak. That is why you are such a challenge to him. You clearly have strength, yet you have friends he would consider weak."
"You mean Brenn."
"Exactly, although I think Brenn surprised him in their fight. I wouldn't be surprised if Brenn surprised all of us in the end."
Luan thought for a minute.
"What of Drustan’s friends?"
"Easoch and Tavdi? Very different characters those two. Easoch comes from the west coast. There's a great tribe of them living in a half ruined castle under the beady eye of the boy's father. Easoch's mother is the old man's wife but he has half a dozen concubines and no end of children. They're more than half pirate if you ask me. Fantastic sailors and brutal fighters the lot of them."
"And Tavdi?"
"A casualty of war." The old sword master sighed as he stretched his left leg. "The boy's family lived in the south of the Kingdom. During the last invasion their lands were over run. He survived by hiding but the rest of his family weren't so lucky. His father, mother and sisters all killed by the slave soldiers of the Empire."
"Why are you telling me all of this?"
"It is important that you know your companions. In the days ahead you will have to rely on them."
"You mean they're coming as well?" Luan was shocked. He had never imagined that they would be.
"Of course." Sword smiled. "Rule number one. If you are going into danger then take the best fighters."
"But who said they're the best?"
"Me, of course. I picked those who showed promise in the competition. It wasn't just so you could win your precious sword you know." The sword master stood. "I need to get on and so should you." Luan realised that the weight had lifted from him.
"Thank you Sir," he said simply.
Sword gave him a long look. "I wish you luck Luan," he said finally. "Try not to doubt yourself. You were born to be Klaideem and to achieve that you must accept the part of you that fights so well."
LUAN WALKED FROM THE practice hall with the breeze snatching at his clothes. He was half way to the canteen when he changed his mind. He felt better but that did not mean he wanted the company of others. Retracing his steps he took the path that led to the wall. His pulse quickened as he climbed the worn treads to the top. There, Luan stepped into a world of lightness and air and felt the tension start to drain away. At this point the wall was so high he could have been flying. He leaned on the parapet and looked out to the east. Gathering clouds cast their shadows over the purple hills. Behind him the sky was still bright but in the distance a storm was brewing. The words from his dream echoed in his mind, 'This is how it will be'. Luan stared into the distance as if trying to see into his future. There was darkness ahead, but for the first time he felt ready.
I hope you liked The Guild of Warriors, the second episode in Luan’s adventure. Luan now knows the task ahead of him, but he’s in for a long and dangerous journey even before he faces his nemesis in the ruined fortress of Cy Malg. Can Luan prevail? Find out in The Arena of Lost Souls, the exciting conclusion to this first series of Luan’s adventures. Keep reading for a sneak preview!
But first I would appreciate it if you would consider leaving a review. It would mean a lot to me and doesn’t have to be too long or time consuming.
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If you would like to know more about sword fighting then I recommend The Trueswordsman by Adam Sharp. It’s a free ebook which I read (and practised the moves from!) before writing this book. It provided a lot of information on the mechanics of swordsmanship and enabled me to write the chapter intros
Now read on for The Arena of Lost Souls Chapter One.
Fin was woken by a scream. In an instant he was awake, rolling over and scrabbling for his spear. Coming to a crouch with his spear at the ready he froze and looked for enemies. Around him the rest of the patrol were pulling themselves to various states of wakefulness. In spite of the danger Fin allowed himself a half smile, it was good to be the fastest.
"See anything?" he called across to Stav.
"Nothing," the tall boy replied. "It's been quiet all watch." Stav stood with his shield raised and spear at the ready. Suddenly the scream came again, shattering the night. Fin spun round to see Luan sitting up in his bed, his eyes staring but seeing nothing, his hands clutching at air.
What the ...?" Stav stood and stared.
"Not again," said Fin to himself as he grabbed Luan and shook him awake. "It's ok," he shouted over his shoulder. "He gets these bad dreams."
"The nedelhain!" Luan shouted as he struggled in Fin's grasp.
"You're telling me," Stav replied before turning and lifting his voice. "Stand down. False alarm."
A few muttered complaints could be heard as the boys wrapped themselves in their blankets and settled back down to sleep. Before long all was quiet again. Luan had never actually awoken, but the dream seemed to have passed. Fin stood and gestured to Stav.
"Go on, get some rest. I'll take the rest of the watch."
"Are you sure?" Stav asked and without waiting for a reply he was off to his bedroll.
Silence fell over the camp. Fin walked to the higher ground where the gully met the steep slope of the hill behind. He sat down and let his back rest against a slab of rock. Here he could watch over the sleeping patrol, the horses picketed beyond and down to the point where the gully widened out. It was a clear night illuminated by a wide crescent moon and Fin pulled his cloak tighter around him. An owl ghosted across the hillside to his right but otherwise all was still. Only when he was sure all was safe did Fin allow himself to think about the question that had bothered him since he had woken so suddenly. Where was Cail?
THE VETERAN GUARD HAD watched over them unceasingly since
they started their journey. The patrol was a training exercise as far as most of the boys knew, and Cail pushed them hard, riding up and down the line, making sure that they rode in formation, holding their spears and shields correctly. He taught them how to scout out the land, to look for the possible traps or places where enemies could be hidden, as well as how to pick out safe paths for their ponies and the best way to set up a camp. He dealt with the boys with humour and patience, although there were times when both were tested. Like the time Cail tried to teach Easoch how to use a spear on horseback.
"What's the worst thing you can do with a spear?"
"Stab yourself." was the Weasels instant reply.
Cail looked at him with surprise. "Why the blazes would you stab yourself?"
"I wouldn't!" The Weasel looked shocked at the suggestion. Cail eyed him suspiciously.
"Let's try again," he said. "What's the worst thing you could do with a spear?"
"Stab your horse!" There was snicker from the watching boys.
"What?"
"Well," began the Weasel, "if you stabbed your horse, well that's bad isn't it?"
Cail was speechless, he just stared at the boy incredulously. Unfortunately the Weasel took this as an invitation to expand on his point.
"Also," he continued earnestly, "if you was riding your horse when you went and stabbed it, well, it might fall over, and then you'd fall off, probably, and that'd hurt!"
It was at this point that Brenn collapsed with laughter and Cail walked off swearing.
Fin smiled at the memory, but it didn't ease his worry. After five days of travelling they were still well within the borders of the Kingdom but Fin had heard enough of his friend's nightmares to fear what hunted them. A shiver began at the back of his neck and spread down his spine. The other boys were just shadowy mounds spread around the small camp. Luan slept peacefully now with Brenn near him. Nearer the fireplace lay the larger figure of Drustan and two smaller ones, then Stav, Druca and Teci and beyond them the others, Callum, Cadda, Brico and Accio, twelve in all. He had little in common with any of them, truth be told, but they were the best fighters in the cadre. Somehow being in the patrol had helped him understand that he did not have to like them all.
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