Engines & Demons - The Undestined

Chapter 25i

Maddock struck savagely at his brother. Karek turned the blow easily on his rail-shield, as he had done countless other times, his relaxed smile never leaving his face. He let Maddock make a few more futile attacks, before knocking his sword aside with his own rail-shield. Then he landed a stinging blow on his wrist, making him yell and drop his sword.

Both swords were only made of wood, but Maddock still winced at the pain as it numbed and then slowly throbbed up his arm.

"And that's one way of disarming your opponent if, by any chance, you need him alive."

"Did you have to hit so hard?" protested Maddock.

Karek pulled a cloth from his back pocket and began to wipe the sweat from his brow. It was still early morning, and the sun had barely cleared the horizon. The air was still a cool freshness, but the two brothers had been training hard, and both were covered in sweat. Now they had stopped, Maddock could feel the morning air chilling his brow and back.

"I didn't hit you very hard," said Karek. "And besides, a little pain is a good motivator."

Maddock untied the rail-shield from his arm, though to call it such was a bit of a joke. In reality it was nothing more than two stout growing canes, bound tightly together at their centres with twine.

He dropped the sticks to the ground and began to rub vigorously at his injured arm.

"It's going to leave a right bruise, that is."

"You're quick, I'll grant you, but you need to pay attention to your opponent." Karek plucked his burgundy uniform tunic down from one of the branches of the cherossa tree that stood in the centre of the farm square.

"Once you have the skill, you can interpret your opponent's moves and act against them without thinking. When you can fight without thinking, and without fear, your vision clears and you feel as though nothing can harm you."

"It sounds like you enjoy being a soldier."

"I do," replied Karek, "There is a joy in battle."

He pulled on his tunic and looked around the square.

As usual, despite the earliness of the hour, the farm was already awake. All the doors to the tavern were open, and the smell of grilling meat and frying eggs wafted on the cold morning air. A few farmers were already seated at the tables on the veranda, warming their hands on large stone mugs of steaming sakk. The Chandler was opening his office by the forge, laying out his heavy ledger on the counter outside, and opening his wooden box of chamber pens.

Maddock felt happy to be at the farm on such a morning. There was a calm to it that he had missed during his time at the fortress, though not during the excitement of the last week, serving at the jousting rings. After three days of labour there, Master Dramut had granted him a day's leave, so he had hurried across the great-bailey to Dredar to spend some time with his brothers, who he had barely seen since their return.

"So, remember," Karek was saying, "Practice, practice, practice."

"I need someone to practice with," said Maddock. "And there's no one round here as good as you."

Karek took his sword belt down from the tree and strapped it around his waist.

"I'm sorry. I have greater responsibilities now. I promise, when the tourney is done, I'll spend more time with you."

"If you don't go back to war," said Maddock, a little more sulkily than he would admit to being proud of.

Karek shrugged.

"Let us hope that we will not have war so soon," he said "We must put our faith in the other Pride-commanders to avert Commander Galder's aspirations."