The Swordmaster, page 7
In the second row, Brawl chuckled quietly into Blinn’s ear: ‘Tee-hee. Have fun with that, boys!’
‘Cadet Brawl – gloating is banned from my unit. I am delighted that you have volunteered to help these two in the stable. This is an admirable example of camaraderie.’
Apart from the sound of Brawl’s teeth grinding impressively, you could hear a pin drop in the yard. The recruits stood rigidly to attention – like fence posts. Forand inspected the lines. Then he spoke in a quiet voice, forcing the cadets to listen with great attention.
‘When I speak, it is only I who speak, and you concentrate on listening. If anyone else talks, dreams or comes too late, then they cannot listen. This is bad. Very bad.’
Forand walked back a few steps, then mustered the boys keenly. ‘From tomorrow on, I do not want to see anyone’s uniform askew, nor do I want to see belts put on backwards, nor boots that haven’t been laced up properly.’
Impy raised a hesitant hand.
‘Yes, Cadet Stobomarik? Or would you prefer Cadet Impy?’ asked the new captain amicably.
‘Cadet Impy will do nicely. May I ask a question?’
‘You have done so already.’
‘Uh…I mean, how will coming too late or showing disobedience be punished?’
‘Severely!’
Impy fell silent.
Forand seemed to be deliberately leaving the form the sanctions would take to the imagination of the boys. From caning to digging out the cesspit – the whole gamut.
‘I have a question for you. What did you learn in the first phase of your training?’
Impy responded nervously: ‘We ran a lot. That was it, more or less. We ran.’
‘And weapons training? What did you do there?’
‘Weapons training was rare enough.’
‘And why was that?’
‘Uh…I don’t know, captain…sir.’ Impy was clearly feeling queasy.
‘I will give you the answer. Yesterday, I watched you training. Your stamina seems good. This is on account of all the running you have done. That’s the end of the good news. Everything else, such as legwork, hand eye co-ordination, physical control, and finally, attitude – all of them are appalling.’
He paused, then continued. ‘Which means that you have not reached the stage of being able to control a weapon, for the weapon controls you. And that is fundamentally wrong.’
Brawl stepped forward, clearly annoyed, for he already considered himself to be the perfect fighter. ‘Isn’t it a little early for such assessments? After all, you don’t know what my legwork is like yet.’
‘Ah, yes. The one-eyed man speaking amongst the blind. Cadet Brawl, your awkward stomping around the place did indeed look better than the others’, but not by much.’
‘What do you mean? What’s missing?’ Brawl could scarcely believe his ears.
‘A lot. The ground positively screams in pain beneath your feet – so angrily do you stamp upon it.’
‘Huh? Do you expect me to fly?’
‘Not to fly. But to float. I expect you all to float.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Let me show you what I mean. Cadets Kowar and Melandor – go to the stable and fetch the two ropes from behind the door.’
Karek didn’t know what to make of this carry-on.
He knows everyone by name already. Karson must have told them to him while we were assembling. Twenty-one names put to the correct twenty-one faces. Now, that’s impressive!
Kowar and Melandor returned with the two ropes, each roughly thirty yards long. Forand took a knife and cut off a three-yard length.
‘Each of you cut off a similar sized length. Chop, chop!’
The blacks looked at each other in dismay as they proceeded to carry out the command. Before long, each cadet was holding a length of rope. Some were whipping it in the air at their comrades and along the ground. What other use could the rope possibly have?
The old captain looked on for a while. Then he called out: ‘Attention!’
There was immediate silence. The recruits looked at their new trainer with interest.
‘’I have already stated that you are not ready to control a weapon. That gormless length of rope is controlling you – do you expect to fight with a cord?’
‘What else are we supposed to do with it?’ asked Melandor.
‘Take an end in each hand. Then you are going to swing the newly created loop down towards the ground and skip over it. Perform the movement as smoothly as you can and repeat the action for as long as you are able to.’
The boys’ faces couldn’t have looked more consternated. Then they tried to carry out this bizarre exercise. Laughter echoed from across the training ground at the awkward efforts of the recruits. It seemed as if they had laid tripwires for themselves, for the boys fell down with alarming frequency.
Brawl grimaced – apparently, he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that what he considered to be his perfect fighting technique had been disparaged so blatantly. The rope whizzed before his feet, but he still hadn’t managed to jump up in time.
He asked impatiently: ‘And what does all this mean? What’s it got to do with floating?’
Forand raised his arm. The boys stared at him, fascinated again. The old man walked over to Brawl: ‘Give me your rope for a moment.’ The captain checked the cord and swung it behind his back. Then everything happened too quickly, at least for the black cadets. He swung the rope over his head and beneath his feet, so swiftly that it was almost impossible to see. He repeated the action again and again, jumping off the ground at exactly the right moment, every time when the rope did a round. It didn’t seem to knock anything out of him – the old man hopped and hopped over the flying rope as though he were floating. Suddenly, he changed the rope’s direction. Now Forand was dancing backwards. Then he stopped and returned the rope to the gobsmacked Brawl.
‘Your rope is functioning. The fact that you can’t float must be your problem,’ he said, not at all out of breath. ‘Each of you has to be able to manage at least ten successive skips with the rope. Help each other.’ Then the captain turned and walked back to the main building.
Left to their own devices, the boys looked at each other in bemusement.
Brawl cursed: ‘We have an expert now as our captain. With that gig he’s just performed for us we’ll be the attraction at fairs up and down the country. Pure and utter shite.’
‘Oh, come on, Brawl. I thought it was pretty impressive. Let’s give it a go – more fun than just running around the gaff anyway,’ said Impy.
‘I wouldn’t exactly call it fun,’ grumbled Karek. Connecting the word ‘float’ with his body terrified him.
The cadets surrendered to their fate and practised this peculiar hopping for the remainder of the morning. A select few managed to reach the magic ten. Brawl was one of them, of course, and it wasn’t long before he had changed his tune.
‘Not so bad, after all. And certainly helpful for legwork during battle.’
‘I can’t believe you’re saying that. Turncoat!’ muttered Karek unhappily, having only managed three hops at most.
‘Put a bit of effort into it, fatso!’ Brawl slapped him on the backside.
‘You don’t have the right rhythm for it,’ said Blinn helpfully. ‘You keep jumping just that little bit too soon.’
After a few more attempts, the prince managed six skips in a row without mishap.
‘Break time!’ he gasped. ‘Anyway, I have until this evening to get it right.’
‘If he meant what he said at all. I bet you he isn’t even going to check,’ said Blinn confidently.
Captain Forand ordered them to assemble that evening. Each cadet had to present his progress individually. Depressingly and ashamedly, some of the white recruits happened to be watching the peculiar carry-on, all the while standing there, whispering and giggling.
‘I bet you he isn’t even going to check,’ said Karek sarcastically, glaring at Blinn. He waited with a queasy feeling in his stomach until it was his turn. Brawl was performing now. Forand stopped the show-off at fifteen and praised him.
Then Blinn exhibited his skills. The rope got entangled in his foot at the fourth jump. He started again and actually managed ten precisely.
So far, everyone had reached the target.
That means, I’m the troop laughingstock again.
Now it was Karek’s turn. Still, he managed seven at his first attempt.
‘It’s true, I am old and never studied – but I can still count to ten. Go again.’
Karek tried several more times – but four or five were now his limit.
‘Shorten the rope a little by wrapping one end around your wrist. You’ll definitely manage then,’ suggested Forand amicably.
Karek did as he was told and stumbled when he reached two. Still, he noticed that it was easier and with considerable effort he eventually managed eleven skips. His comrades clapped, and the prince beamed with pride.
After two hours, everyone had done the task successfully.
Captain Forand stood in front of his cadets: ‘You’ve already made good progress on the first day. You should be proud of yourselves. Tomorrow, we will improve our legwork even more.’
The five boys gathered in their dormitory after supper.
‘I think our new captain is super,’ exclaimed Eduk without echoing anyone at all.
‘I’ll reserve judgement until I see how my cramped muscles are feeling tomorrow,’ complained Karek.
‘I think he’s super strict,’ said Blinn. ‘He lets us get away with way less than To Shyr Ban used to.’
Impy said thoughtfully: ‘Well, he can skip with a rope alright. I wonder can he do other things, too?
‘We’ll find out soon enough, I fear. There’s something about him that annoys me. And I’ll be interested to see how he gets on with Bostun.’
‘Bostun would never let his group hop around so idiotically. We are soldiers and not street performers.’
‘In just about two weeks the next tournament will take place. Then you’ll all have your gobs smashed in.’
‘Except for Brawl, the legendary farter, who will stink out all the whites in one go.’
‘Take it easy there, Impy. Don’t take advantage of my bonhomie. I want you all to make a bit of an effort at the tournament – I have no wish to be on the losing side yet again.’
‘We’d win a lot more times if we didn’t spend from one end of the day to the other running and hopping.’
‘Let’s see what tomorrow brings.’
When the bell was sounded the following morning, Karek could feel every muscle in his arms and legs as he struggled to get out of bed.
His comrades were groaning too but they were already scurrying across the room, while he had collapsed back onto the bed, his body as stiff as a board.
‘Get up, or we will request for you to be caned if you’re late for assembly,’ said Impy encouragingly.
‘Ugh, even my hairs have cramp,’ groaned the prince.
‘Will I shave you bald?’ asked Brawl.
‘Nah – but amputating my arms and legs might help.’
‘Then there would only be a big ugly balloon left with a smaller uglier balloon on top,’ surmised Blinn.
‘I’m going to ask later if they have a free bed next door,’ wailed Karek. ‘I don’t want to stay with you guys anymore.’
After breakfast, Captain Forand set out the timetable for the day.
‘We are going to run to the little lake. I’ve been told that you did exotic pole vaulting there already.’ He glanced mischievously at Karek as he spoke.
The new captain’s sources in the castle are second to none.
Shortly thereafter, the troop set off at a quick march. The late summer’s day was still warm, so they were all looking forward to the refreshing swim. Karek was relieved to see that the whites were not among the party this time. The old captain ran at a relaxed, easy pace up front. The way he raised his legs high, not to mention his springy steps, reminded the prince of To Shyr Ban’s running style. Soon they reached the little lake in the middle of the rock formation.
‘We need a tree trunk,’ announced Forand.
‘To do what?’ whispered Blinn.
‘Wrong order,’ whispered Karek back.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Blinn.
‘This is how it works in the military: first do, then ask why. Not the other way round. So, we cut down a tree.’
‘Cadet Linnek – would you like to share your pearls of wisdom with us?’ asked Forand in a friendly voice.
‘Uh…not really. I was just finished.’
‘Then understand one thing. This is how it works in the military: first do, then do. Never ask why.’
Forand let the boys rest for a while before he selected twelve recruits. Brawl was among them, he and the others then heading north and disappearing in a nearby wood.
Karek heard the sounds of axe blows echoing from the little forest as he sat on a rock with his feet dangling in the water. He remembered the woman whose name he didn’t even know but who had been intent on killing him. He had an appointment to meet her in the village of Klamm in thirteen days’ time. Did he really want to encounter her again? Suddenly, she seemed very far away and without any part to play in his life.
The returning comrades woke him from his reverie. They were groaning and dragging the trunk of a tree, well over two yards in length, towards the side of the lake.
‘Should we cut it into little pieces?’
The captain shook his head. ‘No. It’s perfect as it is.’
The cadets gathered around the tree trunk and admired it. Twenty-one heads seemed to be thinking: What in the name of Lithor are we supposed to do with this lump of wood?
Forand rubbed his hands. ‘Cadets, yesterday we took the first step to improving your legwork with skipping practice. Whenever you can, take the cord in your hands and skip. Now, however, we are going to take the second step in learning how to float. Throw the tree trunk into the water.’
It had already dawned on Karek what the captain was up to even before he started to explain, the boys staring at the floating wood suspiciously: ‘We are now going to stand on this trunk. See who can do it best.’
‘What? That’s all? That’s easy-peasy,’ opined Brawl.
‘Then you may go first, of course.’
Brawl snorted in disgust, as though Forand had demanded that he piss a hole into the snow in winter. He unlaced his boots and took them off, waded into the water and reached the tree trunk. The water was up to his thighs. Brawl grabbed the log in the middle and tried to climb onto it. But the wood revolved quickly and the boy slipped head first into the lake. The other cadets remembered the previous day when gloating was banned from their unit. Karek noticed how his comrades were struggling manfully to stop themselves from laughing, for now Brawl had resurfaced, soaked through, and was cursing loudly. He tried it from the other side – same result. The third time, he lay on top of it, pressing himself down like a flying squirrel, then trying, desperately slowly, to get up on all fours. The log began to spin, Brawl finally splashing into the water again. The boys retained their straight faces even if a few facial muscles twitched nervously. It took all of Karek’s resolve, too, to not to burst out laughing.
Everything is twice as funny when you’re not allowed to laugh.
Again, Brawl battled with the tree trunk, managing once more to lie face down on it. It seemed that he lay there too long for the captain’s taste, the captain eventually saying: ‘No sleeping. Stand up.’
Brawl slowly got up onto his hunkers, then tried to maintain his balance by stretching out his arms. His right foot slipped off the slippery wood and he plopped back into the lake, having completely lost control.
Don’t laugh now. Karek had reached the limit of his self-control. He kept reminding himself that it would be his turn soon and that he would look considerably funnier. This thought was sufficient to suppress any gloating.
The boys continued to keep straight faces. It seemed that they were all fearfully awaiting their own turn.
Brawl rose to the surface again, water streaming from his eyes. He shook his head like a dog and yelled out: ‘This hare-brained tree is going to burn in the fire later!’
Forand’s smile was like a relieving signal – a trumpet call that demanded reckless merriment.
The boys fell around the place in stitches. Everything that they had been suppressing now suddenly burst out in the form of laughter. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to laugh away the events of the past few days – Mussand’s and To Shyr Ban’s deaths, the threat of war, the anxiety over one’s own life. The prince felt much freer afterwards, anyway.
There was only one person not enjoying himself. Brawl was standing in the water, as furious as he was wet, watching the general exhilaration. Then he did something that Karek would never have expected of him. He joined in the laughter. All the comrades were laughing hysterically but without gloating as they remembered Brawl’s capers on top of the tree trunk. It seemed to take forever before the laughter finally died down.
‘We’re going to do it differently now. Two of you will hold the tree trunk fast until the third is standing up on it.’
Blinn was the next to try. Brawl, who was already wet, took on the responsibility along with Melandor of helping him onto the log. Then Blinn was standing on it, legs akimbo. ‘You can let go now.’ He clearly hadn’t found the middle, for the trunk tipped forward and Blinn fell head first into the water.
The same was more or less true for the others. Which meant that Karek couldn’t do too much wrong, apart from get wet.
The old captain called out: ‘You must float, dance, caress the log.’
Blinn suggested: ‘Show us how to do it, please.’ Then he winked at the others, as though he was really curious to hear what excuse the captain would come up with.
‘You don’t think I can do it, do you? Very well. I will never demand of you what I cannot or will not do myself.’
Forand waded into the water, shooing Brawl and Melandor, who were still holding the log, out of the lake.
