Page 80 of Slaying the Shadow Prince
Wilder swore.
‘Never retaliate with anger.’ Talemir spoke to the crowd again, blocking another jab from Wilder. ‘Always keep a cool head, and remember: distance and cover.’
The older Warsword stepped to the right, forcing Wilder to change the angle of his attack, forcing him to strike off-centre so that his balance wasn’t even —
‘I thought I taught you better than this, apprentice,’ Talemir said, parrying and bringing his blade down across Wilder’s, blocking another blow before withdrawing.
The two Warswords continued the dance, their blades clashing as they attacked, broke away, parried and sliced.
Not a bead of sweat appeared on either man’s brow, but the muscle twitching in Wilder’s jaw told Drue that his former master’s taunts were finding their mark, despite the prior warning.
Talemir grinned widely as he surveyed his frustrated opponent and then the mesmerised Naarvians. ‘Warriors are taught that it’s better to seize the offensive than wait for the right time to counterattack. That is the mindset we want you to have against these raiders when we reach their stronghold tonight. They are not trained soldiers. They will hesitate; they will lose their formations quickly. We need to take advantage of that.’ He turned back to Wilder. ‘Let’s look at some angles of attack.’
Wilder was all too eager to oblige. ‘There are eight essential angles of attack when it comes to swordplay and cutting your opponent to the ground: straight down, straight up, diagonally down to the left and to the right, diagonally up to the left and right, as well as left and right strikes horizontally.’ As he named each of these, he demonstrated against Talemir in slow movements. ‘Of course, there are other variations, but for simplicity’s sake, let’s stick with these.’
Watching the Warswords spar showed Drue just how little she knew about the world of combat. Since Adrienne had trained her and she had fought among the Naarvian rangers, she had thought herself competent, perhaps even superiorly skilled, but now… Talemir and Wilder’s bodies moved as though they’d learnt an entirely different language: cutthroat and brutal, but also full of grace – each action fluid like water, every swing of their blade without hesitation. Their prowess was unparalleled and both she and Adrienne watched in awe.
‘The last thing we’ll show you is deception,’ Talemir’s voice rang out again.
Everyone seemed to shift on their feet in anticipation. It wasn’t every day that common Naarvians saw inside the training ring of the legendary Thezmarrian Warswords.
Wilder spoke next. ‘Some of you may have learnt the basics of swordplay long ago, where rules of honour were engaged and expected… But against evil, fair fighting is a sure way to get yourself killed. Learn the rules so you know how your opponent might break them, and how you yourself can turn those expectations on their heads.’
‘First,’ Talemir continued, lifting his sword, ‘close the distance with your weapon raised, preparing for what should look to be a mighty overhead blow… Then, shift your weight and kick.’ He showed them with his left leg. ‘Aim for your opponent’s liver, their groin or their midsection. Keep your sword up, ready to block a strike if the kick is unsuccessful.’
The men ran through several more examples of deception. Each one had Drue’s hands itching to hold a sword and try it out for herself.
Finally, Talemir turned to the crowd. ‘We have a few hours before we’re due to ride out to the raiders’ compound. Pair up. Let’s see what you can do.’
18
Talemir
Talemir hadn’t been able to stop himself from glancing across the crowd at Drue throughout the demonstration. In the early morning sun, the red streaks in her hair caught the light and her blue stare was more determined than ever. When the assembly broke apart, all he could think of was how he wanted to spar with her, how he wanted to share his knowledge with her – knowledge that, in her hands, would be deadly against any attacker.
But as the Naarvians surged through the town square, pairing up and finding the space to run through the drills themselves, Talemir lost sight of Drue.She must have found a better spot to spar with Adrienne somewhere, he figured.
And so he walked among the sparring Naarvians with Wilder, correcting their forms where he could, running through the examples again when someone wasn’t sure. The rangers were of good fighting stock, though they lacked the finesse and the discipline of those who’d trained at Thezmarr. Even so, they were determined, like Drue, to defend their people against those who would do them harm. They were keen to deliver justice to the raiders.
Now and then, he glimpsed Wilder nearby, teaching the Naarvians the lessons Talemir himself had taught the young man. The sight made his chest swell, along with the thought that someday, it would be Wilder’s turn to take on an apprentice, to guide another warrior to the Great Rite.
‘Sir?’ One of the young Naarvians yanked him from his reverie. ‘Is the distraction technique like this?’
Shaking himself from his daze, Talemir patiently watched the lad before correcting his clumsy form.
‘You were never that nice to me,’ Wilder said dryly, as the boy scampered off to show the others what he’d learnt.
‘You were never that polite.’
‘Horseshit. I was a saint.’
Talemir scoffed. ‘And I bedded all three Furies.’
Wilder snorted at that. ‘You and Malik were ten times worse when you were apprentices. I’ve heard the stories.’
‘Malik was the worst of us,’ Talemir told him. ‘I merely followed the leader.’
‘Typical. Blame the poor bastard who’s not here.’
