Finches

Chapter 9 - Sword Training

Colt had wanted to start his training immediately, but the fisherman had other plans. Although it seemed of little importance when compared to what lay ahead, the old man had still insisted on his fish being sold that day. Colt had tried to explain that he intended to leave as soon as he knew how to use his sword, however the fisherman was on a completely different schedule. He didn't see why Colt couldn't just do the rest of his tasks for the day, train that night, and then leave first thing tomorrow.

To that proposal, Colt didn't have much he could have said. "I don't want to" didn't seem like it would work, and besides, he wanted to stay on the old man's good side. So he'd taken the fish into town once again and done all of the other things he was required to do.

When he got back to the shack, he was ready to get to work. He rushed through dinner, hardly even considering that it may be one of the last good meals he had for a long while. Then, while the fisherman cleaned up, he did the rest of his chores for the night.

Colt was relieved when he was finally done. He was grateful to the fisherman for saving his life and taking him in and all, but he couldn't wait to train and then be gone tomorrow. If he had to sweep another floor or dust one more piece of furniture in the next year or so, he might just lose it.

"Finished?" asked the fisherman, who had been sitting in the chair and watching him for the last half hour.

"Sure am," Colt said. "I'm ready to train."

The old man squinted his eyes, like he'd forgotten all about that.

"You sure you want to do that tonight?" he asked. "I admit I'm a little tired. We could always do it tomorrow, you know."

"Yeah, nice try," Colt replied. "We're doing this tonight, so try to keep up."

The fisherman smiled a little. "Oh, I'll do more than try." He had a gleam in his eyes, and did not at all look like someone who was tired. He walked over to the corner of the shack and knelt down. He placed his hands on the floor and started tugging on one of the wooden boards.

"What are you doing?" Colt asked.

"You'll see."

The fisherman tugged at the board some more until eventually it came loose. He pulled it out, revealing an open space below it.

"A secret compartment?"

The old man smiled in response. He reached down in it and pulled out a sword made from iron. The blade was straighter than that of a cutlass, but looked just as sharp. The sword was covered in dust, so it was evident that it hadn't been used in a while. After a quick blow from the fisherman, however, the dust disappeared and the thing looked as good as new. Colt felt almost envious, as the old man's blade definitely looked more intimidating than Colt's.

"You have a sword?" Colt said in disbelief.

The fisherman stood back up and brandished his weapon. "I used to have much more of a use for it than I do now. But that is a story for a different day. As of right now, your training has begun. So... swing at me."

Colt blinked. "What?"

"Swing at me," the fisherman repeated. "Try to hit me with your cutlass."

"Are you sure?" Colt frowned. "I don't want to..."

"Hurt me? Oh, don't worry about that. I saw you yesterday. Your swing wouldn't hurt me even if you could make contact with it. Which you can't, by the way."

Colt squinted his eyes. "Okay, well just remember that you're the one asking for this."

Colt readied his sword and swung at the old man. Everything after that happened way too fast. Colt's cutlass was met by the old man's sword. The sword caught his cutlass at an angle and with a twist from the fisherman, Colt's weapon went flying out of his hand. Colt had no time to react to this because while it was happening he felt a force push out against him. Colt stumbled as his feet were then swept out from under him and he hit the ground square on his back.