The Reluctant Mage: Book One in the Zandar Series (7 page)

Early the next morning, Marko rushed to the commissary to find his new friends. They were sitting at the same table as yesterday but there were a few more grays dining with them. After they got the introductions out of the way (although he recognized all of them from classes the previous day), Marko asked if any of them were going to join him in the morning’s class.

“Yep, that’s my class too,” said Ivan sitting across from him. “Teacher Blasc will give you a sword, although don’t expect too much. We orphans don’t exactly get the pick of the litter.”

“That’s ok. I have an old Imperial blade my uncle gave to me.”

All the conversation at the table stopped. Marko looked around and was shocked to see everyone at the table staring at him.

“You have an Imperial blade? Only citizens working for the Emperor can wield one of those. How in all creation did your uncle get his hands on one?”

“My uncle says that he is doing some minor work indirectly for the council.” Marko said vaguely. “I think it was more like a gift from a friend, really.”

“Ok. That kinda makes sense,” said Ivan. “Still, I can’t believe he would give away an Imperial sword. Must not be much of a swordsman, then.”

Based upon the conversation and the reaction from everyone, there was no way Marko was going to tell anyone that he had his uncle’s SECOND Imperial blade. After breakfast, Ivan waited for Marko to retrieve his sword from his locker. When he came back, they set out on their way to class.

Marko and Ivan weaved through the back buildings until they came to a small open area. The ground was dirt with benches lined around on all four sides. There were already a few students there and the two of them waited until the others arrived. Just when the morning bell sounded, a man walked into the square. He was not wearing the traditional teacher’s tunic. He wore a loose fitting shirt and baggy pants tucked into his boots. Both were the same blue as the other teachers Marko had seen at the orphanage.

“Good morning. It will be better after a two mile run. You have five minutes to stretch,” said the man.

A chorus of groans echoed around the practice yard. As each boy went through his exercises, Marko tried to mimic them as best he could. Eventually the man walked over to him, “So, we have a new boy come to join us? What’s your name?”

“Marko Kunich, sir.”

“Welcome to the Steel, Marko. I am Teacher Rakan. Ever practiced the sword before?”

“I have sparred with my father, sir.” Marko did not feel right talking about the bandit attack and his role holding off the attackers.

Rakan noticed Marko’s sword strapped to his waist. “You can put your blade in the weapons locker over there for the run. If you want to keep it in the barracks, you will have to take care of it yourself. At the end of each week, a journeyman blacksmith comes by to sharpen the blades and file them down. He comes first thing in the morning.”

Marko started out with the other boys running around the inside perimeter of the entire compound. He wanted to ask Ivan how many laps they needed to run but he was soon too winded to speak. After the first lap, he was already lagging behind the other boys. By the second lap there were boys that had lapped him. As he was turning a corner by the main entrance, he was knocked to the ground. He came back up to his knees and looked ahead. A large boy looked back over this shoulder at him and laughed. “You sure you belong outside of the classroom?” he laughed.

By the time Marko finished his run, the other boys were wearing padded armor and were practicing stances with swords. He slowly walked over to a wall with pegs sticking out. There were two sets of padded armor remaining. One looked like it was way to small for him and the other smelled like a sewer. He shrugged and put on the larger set. By the Emperor! When did they wash these things?

Marko recognized some of the forms the boys were practicing and began his normal warm up routine. Just as he began, Rakan spoke up. “All right, everyone form two lines in front of me.” Marko kept and eye on the boy who had knocked him down to make sure that he stayed far away from him.

For the next mark the teacher had them practice various blocking techniques. Only when he believed that all got a move down did he progress to the next one or work in a combination for them to practice. They spent another mark on offensive moves. Rakan had the boys form a circle so that there was no chance of accidentally striking a fellow student. Marko found these moves remedial as he had learned all of these moves years ago. He did appreciate a return to basics however, since he had limited time to practice while living with his uncle. He would cautiously take side glances at the other students. Many of them seemed to actually have difficulty with some of the moves. 

After a short break for water Rakan spoke up, “Now I want you boys to rack your swords. Come over here and pick up a rattan sword and pair up. We will be practicing these moves with a partner. Remember, no strikes to the head.”

Marko looked over at Ivan and nodded. They picked up the rattan swords and practiced a few moves to gauge its weight and balance. Marko found the sword to be similar weight to his Imperial blade but the balance was terrible. The maker had weighted the handle and guard in order to create the overall weight of a sword, but it moved the center of balance all the way to the grip. He was just trying to figure out how to compensate for the change, when the teacher said, “I want each pair to draw a circle. The circle should be ten paces wide. Make sure you are not close to another circle. When I say begin, I want one of you to be the attacker and the other to defend. We’ll switch in half a mark. I don’t want to see any lumberjacks out there. I want controlled strikes and blocks. Remember your form.”

Ivan started in the attacking role and Marko defended. He had little trouble blocking Ivan’s attacks and started weaving in other blocks and forms that they did not cover that morning. Marko enjoyed the practice even though he was still tired from the earlier run. He noticed that Rakan would walk around the circles critiquing both combatants. When he approached Marko and Ivan, he just observed for several minutes. “Ivan, I want to see your balance shift to your lead foot during your attack. You are relying on your arm strength alone to deliver the blow. Your whole body is a weapon. By moving into the attack, you bring your whole body into the fight.”

“Yes sir,” Ivan said between gasping breadths.

“Marko,” said Rakan. “Who taught you those blocks?”

Marko thought again about his teachings from his dreams. “My father, sir. He used to be in the army.”

“Bah! You used blocks the army does not teach anymore. There is no need with the long swords they now deploy. I should know; I helped design the training before I retired. That style is suited for the short sword where quick work is needed. You can’t move a long sword quickly enough for many of those moves. Just something to remember if you ever take up a career in the Imperial Army.” After that, Rakan moved on to the next pair.

After a few more minutes, Rakan had them switch roles. Marko began some basic attack forms against Ivan. He could see that Ivan was still breathing heavily. His blocks were slow and clumsy. Marko slowed down his attacks to give Ivan a chance. He knew he would not be able to deploy any of his other styles during the session.

Whack!

Marko and Ivan turned to see a student on the ground holding his head in hands. Above him was a boy looking down with a smile on his face. It was the same boy who had knocked Marko down. “Who is he?” Marko whispered and pointed to the boy.

“That’s Maurice.” Ivan said as his face curled. “He is a by blow of Governor Aymeric. Thinks he’s better than the rest of us.”

“Maurice! What’s this all about?” Rakan said has he quickly knelt down to look at the boy’s injury.

“The runt did not bring up his block in time. I tried to pull the strike. Honestly, Teacher, how can I learn if you pair me with incompetent students?”

Rakan looked up and there was anger in his eyes. “You two!” he pointed at two boys nearby. “Take Emil to the infirmary. Tell the medic that he has a concussion.”

After the boys left with the injured boy, Rakan looked around at the silent boys. His eyes locked on Marko and a small smile played across his face.

“Ok, let’s take a break and have a sparring contest. Maurice, since you seemed to be unchallenged in this class, let’s try you out against the new boy, Marko. Ok boys, here are the rules. First one out of the circle losses a point. If you are touched by the other boy’s sword, you lose another point. First boy to score three points wins. I will award points and you WILL pause after each. Any blow to the head or attempted blow to the head and you lose the match. Is that clear, Maurice?”

“No problem. As long as scrawny here is not as slow as he was during the run,” he sneered.

“Both of you ready? Then begin!”

Marko immediately brought his practice sword over this head as Maurice ran to him with a swing.
Crack!
The two swords violently hit each other sending a shock down Marko’s arm. This guy is too strong to stand and battle, Marko thought. He quickly jumped back and circled his attacker. Maurice lunged at Marko with another overhead strike. This time Marko was ready. He deftly stepped to his right and next to Maurice. He jammed the handle of his sword into Maurice’s kidney and stepped back.

“Point to Marko,” said Rakan.

“That’s not fair!” screamed Maurice. “He hit me with his handle!”

“Yes, and in real life he could have dealt you a killing blow while your were doubled over. Ready, begin.”

This time Maurice did not run at Marko like before. He circled Marko and slowly brought his sword up. His attacks at Marko were more exploratory than committed. Marko guessed that he was testing Marko’s technique to find weaknesses. Marko was careful to only deploy the blocks that were taught in class that morning.

Marko decided he was tiring of defense and began attacking Maurice. As with blocking, he only deployed the attacks Rakan had shown the class. Marko noticed that Maurice was using blocks that were more advanced.
He also must have had training outside of the orphanage,
Marko guessed.

After a few minutes, Marko had gauged Maurice’s level of competence. Although he was not a beginner, Marko saw several ways he could exploit Maurice’s style. Marko backed up and allowed his opponent to go back on the offensive. This time he flicked his sword (as best he could given its balance) after sidestepping Maurice’s blow and landed a rap on his hands.
Clank
. Maurice’s practice sword dropped to the ground.

“Point to Marko. He leads two points to nil.”

Maurice fumed as he stared at Marko, while rubbing his right wrist. Marko looked down at the practice sword on the ground. He causally picked it up by its wooden blade and handed it to Maurice. Just he grabbed the blade, Maurice yelled, “You bastard!” and swung his sword wildly at Marco’s head.

Marko moved in reflex. He ducked the blow and brought his open hand up and struck Maurice’s nose with his palm just like Stranac taught him.

A large
crunch
could be heard echoing off the surrounding walls and Maurice’s body dropped immediately to the ground. While Marko’s open hand was still extended into the air, he looked down at Maurice’s open eyes in horror. Marko immediately realized that the strike Stranac taught him was one of the many unarmed killing blows they practiced. Properly executed, it drove the cartilage in a man’s nose into his brain. Marko knew that he executed the strike flawlessly.

Rakan stared at the body a moment and then told all the students to return to their barracks immediately. He pulled Ivan aside and told him to run to the headmaster’s office and notify him that there had been a terrible accident. Then he walked over to the nearest bench and sat down heavily. “Put your armor and sword away, Marko, and wait here with me.”

“I am very sorry, Teacher!” Marko cried out. “I did not mean to hurt him! He came at me so quickly that I just tried to protect myself.”

Rakan looked at him. “It is not your fault.  I am to blame. I knew you could take him. I saw you practice and hold back. I wanted to teach Maurice a lesson. He has been terrorizing students for years.”