The King's Key (21 page)

Whisker felt like a marionette puppet on a bumpy cart ride.
You can do this
, he told himself.
Just focus your mind, listen and follow.
He took a deep breath and tried to relax. His tail stopped moving and his shoulders loosened. Maintaining his composure, he focused on Ruby and moved into position.

‘Much better,' Ruby said. ‘You're officially in the Plough Guard stance. From here, there are a number of strikes you can utilise, depending on your opponent's actions. Guard two is the
Roof Guard.'

Ruby moved her feet closer together and raised the handle of her sword to her left shoulder. The blade of the sword extended vertically above her head, tipping back slightly. Whisker followed her closely, copying her every move. Ruby looked him up and down and nodded.

‘The Roof Guard, like most guards, can be assumed on either side of the body,' she explained, changing position.

Whisker mirrored her with lightning speed and was in a reverse Roof Guard almost before she was. Blessed with quick reflexes, Whisker was determined to get every move right. He hoped Ruby could tell the difference between a keen student and an arrogant show-off.

Ruby glared back at him and mouthed something that looked remarkably like
arrogant show-off.

‘
Ox Guard
,' she snapped, raising her rear elbow. She lowered her blade to shoulder height and pointed it horizontally at Whisker. Whisker assumed the stance and the two combatants faced each other like angry oxen, horns raised, ready to charge.

‘The last guard is the
Fool's Guard,'
Ruby explained. ‘Rumour has it, it was named after a certain fool in our crew …'

‘Hey, I heard that!' cried a voice from the throne room. ‘I'll have you know I have a famous move named after me and it's not the Fool's Guard. It's a skilful manoeuvre called the
Horace Shuf
f
le
.'

Ruby rolled her eye. Whisker couldn't help but smile. The tension in the air immediately lifted.

‘The Fool's Guard gives the appearance of vulnerability,' she continued, lowering the sword so the blade almost touched the ground. ‘Your opponent will consider you a fool for leaving yourself wide open and rush in to attack. When they do …' Before Whisker knew what was happening, Ruby thrust her sword upwards and took a swipe at an invisible foe. ‘… you'll be ready.'

‘The attacker is the fool,' Whisker muttered to himself.

‘The key to any fight is to find the flow of the battle and control it,' Ruby said calmly. ‘Foresee a move before it happens and act decisively. As all good Pie Rats say, the best defence is good offence.'

‘I'll try to remember that,' Whisker said.

‘Control only comes with practice and experience,' Ruby added. ‘There are many moves I can teach you but the four guards, together with the five Master Strikes, will give you a solid fighting foundation. Are you up for some sparring?'

‘Sure,' Whisker said, growing in confidence. ‘Anything beats dried herbs and ghost stories.'

‘I can still hear you,' Horace yelped.

Ruby ignored Horace and began to explain, ‘The five Master Strikes are:
The Strike of Wrath …'
She raised the sword above her head and swung it straight down, stopping the blade only millimetres from Whisker's head.

Whisker gulped. With a wink, Ruby raised the sword to her right shoulder.

‘
The Crooked Strike
…' She curved the blade downwards in an arc across her body, ending the movement when the blade reached her lower left side.

‘
The Cross Strike …
' Ruby began the strike from her shoulder, took a step forward and twisted her hips. The blade crossed horizontally in front of her face, with the tip pointing directly at Whisker's nose.

Whisker shuffled back.

‘
The Squinting Strike …
' Ruby repeated her actions from the previous strike but ended the motion with a downward thrust to the right side of Whisker's neck.

Whisker shuffled back even further.

‘And finally,
The Scalp Strike …'
Ruby raised both paws high, stepped off line and thrust the sword in the direction of Whisker's scalp.

Whisker stared cross-eyed at the tip of the sword and thanked his lucky stars he'd taken two steps backwards.

‘What do you think?' Ruby asked, lowering the blade.

‘I-I'm glad I'm on your side,' Whisker stammered. ‘I doubt I'd have much of a head left in a real fight.'

‘The Master Strikes are designed to threaten your opponent,' Ruby said lowering her voice, ‘not necessarily kill them. A good fighter will know exactly where their blade will end up. Experience will teach you about perception, timing and distance – three things that will save your life as well as giving you the power to spare lives.'

Whisker sighed. There was one question he'd avoided asking the entire time he'd been on the
Apple Pie
. It was a question he could no longer ignore. Before he went any further with his training, he had to know the answer.

‘Ruby,' he asked slowly, ‘What does it feel like to, err, k…' He couldn't finish the question.

Ruby gave him one of her stone-cold stares and Whisker decided not to push his luck.

She bent down to pick up her second sword.

‘I know what everyone thinks of me,' she muttered, ‘and I don't blame them. I act a certain way – they assume certain things. But remember this, Whisker, appearances can be deceiving.' She paused. ‘If you want an answer, you'll have to ask someone who knows. I'm a Pie Rat, not an assassin.'

Whisker smiled to himself. Ruby had given him the answer he wanted to hear.

‘Let Horace believe what he wants,' Ruby added, quietly. ‘He's easier to boss around that way. Fear is such a powerful thing. Come on. Help me pick out a couple of sturdy sticks for the training drill.'

Whisker followed Ruby through the throne room to a pile of dry branches near the fire. Horace was busy talking and laughing with Mr Tribble and the Captain. Horace was doing all the talking and all the laughing. Smudge dozed peacefully on a broken piece of marble.

‘Where's Eaton?' Whisker asked, looking around.

Mr Tribble pointed up the wall. Through the smoke, Whisker could just make out the tiny figure of Eaton peering through a hole in a window. He was clutching his lantern in one paw.

‘Eaton asked if he could survey the citadel from a safe height,' Mr Tribble said. ‘He was rather concerned about the chameleon stalking us from the courtyard.'

‘Are you sure he wasn't just spooked by a ghost story?' Whisker joked, selecting a straight stick from the pile.

‘Rotten pies to snide remarks,' Horace huffed. ‘Eaton loved my ghost stories. Especially the one about the white sheet and the …'

‘Can't stay and chat,' Ruby cut in, pulling Whisker out of the room. ‘We've got heaps of training to cover.'

The sparring session was intense, to say the least. Whisker was glad they were fighting with sticks and not with swords. His mind struggled to piece together all the moves and combinations required to defend against Ruby and he was soon tender and sore from all the stabs and slashes he failed to block.

‘You're improving,' Ruby remarked. ‘But your mind is still too busy thinking about what moves to use. You should be feeling your way through each strike.'

‘Give him a break,' Horace said, walking into the room. ‘He's a million times better than I was in my first lesson.'

‘That wouldn't be hard,' Ruby scoffed. ‘By the way, aren't you supposed to be watching the herbs?'

‘Tribble gave me an early mark,' Horace replied. ‘I think my herbs got a little char-grilled …'

‘Just stay out of the way!' Ruby snapped. ‘And if you mention a single word of that ghost story, I'll use you as a mannequin for decapitation practice – with real swords.'

Without protest, Horace shirked off into the shadows on the far side of the hole. Ruby gave Whisker a wink. ‘I told you it was easy.'

Horace, however, didn't stay quiet for long.

‘Err, permission to speak?' he piped, raising his hook in the air.

‘What is it now, Horace?' Ruby groaned.

‘I have a small suggestion for Whisker,' he replied. ‘Combinations are easier to learn when you put them into a story. For example: The heroic Horace leapt off the roof and struck wrathfully at the ploughman.'

Ruby rolled her eye.

‘Stories can work as learning tools,' she admitted. ‘But unnecessary details will slow you down. The Captain taught me to use simple word associations to trigger my reflexes.'

She moved into a Fool's Guard position and explained, ‘When I think of a fool, I think of someone who needs a few brain cells rammed into their scalp. ‘She shot a quick glance at Horace and continued, ‘An effective way to defend against someone in the Fool's Guard is by using the Scalp Strike. Another example is the word
ox
. I associate oxen with their horns, which are bent or crooked. So if someone is attacking me from an Ox Guard position …'

‘Your defence would be a Crooked Strike,' Whisker exclaimed.

‘Exactly,' Ruby said. ‘And after a while you won't even need the associations. You'll simply know what moves to use and when to use them – with exceptions of course. It's important to be aware of your surroundings. A low ceiling height, a hole in the ground, sunlight in your eyes, and so on, can all influence a fight.'

‘Don't forget props,' Horace added. ‘A rotten guava to the face is a perfect way to throw your enemy off guard.'

‘We're trying to stick to the basics,' Ruby huffed. ‘That means two paws on the sword at all times, not picking up yesterday's dinner for a fruit salad food fight.'

‘Relax,' Horace laughed. ‘Whisker can use his tail.'

Whisker knew he had enough to focus on and filed Horace's suggestion in the back of his mind. His head soon swam with images of wrathful ploughmen, squinting fools and crooked horned oxen. Less and less of Ruby's blows penetrated his defences and he even came close to disarming Horace on one occasion.

‘Tell me about the Horace Shuffle,' he panted, stopping for a drink.

‘It's a cunning escape move,' Horace said proudly. ‘But it only works if you're smaller than your opponent.'

‘That's never a problem for you,' Ruby spluttered, trying not to choke on a mouthful of water.

‘My size is my salvation,' Horace replied. ‘I'll demonstrate for you.' He picked up Ruby's stick. ‘Stand in front of me with your legs apart, Whisker.'

Whisker put down the flask and positioned himself in front of Horace. Horace took a few steps backwards and charged at Whisker with his stick raised.

Whisker waited until Horace was within range and swung down with a Crooked Strike. The stick passed through thin air. Horace had vanished.

Whisker looked down to see Horace sliding feet-first between his legs. With a cheeky grin, Horace gave Whisker's left foot a
WHACK
with his stick as he passed through. Whisker hopped on one foot, struggling not to fall over as Horace leapt to his feet and collided with the Captain.

The Captain wrenched the stick from Horace's paws and gave him a firm
WALLOP
on the backside.

‘The Horace Shuffle,' he laughed, ‘It's not much good if there's someone waiting on the other side.'

‘It's still a stellar move,' Horace yelped. ‘I got poor Whisker a good one. He thought I'd disappeared like a ghost – which reminds me, there's a great story about a white …'

‘Campfire stories are over for the night,' the Captain growled. ‘We've finished drying and grinding the herbs, so it's time to get a few hours sleep before dawn.'

‘Have you added the herbs to the pie yet?' Whisker asked, clutching his foot.

‘Why? Do you want some?' the Captain asked, mildly amused.

‘No. I'll recover,' Whisker moaned. ‘I just wanted to make sure you put enough in.'

‘Don't worry,' Mr Tribble said, stepping into the room. ‘We added eight spoonfuls of the powdered herbs – four of each. That should be more than enough for a nice long nap. I'll take the remainder of the powder back to Pete.'

Eaton came into view carrying the red berry pie. The top crust had been removed to reveal a syrupy mix of raspberries, strawberries and cherries.

Horace's eyes lit up. Whisker's stomach rumbled.

‘Don't even think about it,' the Captain murmured. ‘And no, you can't have the top crust for supper.'

‘Lucky chameleon,' Horace groaned.

‘Speaking of the chameleon,' Whisker said, ‘were there any signs of the elusive creature in the courtyard?'

‘N-n-no,' Eaton squeaked in his usual timid voice. ‘The courtyard appeared to be empty …'