Southward to Fight

It was midday and the blazing summer sun beat down on Luthar’s bare back as Leyton came for him again, wooden training sword swirling. His muscles screamed in defiance as he blocked blow after blow, each falling faster than the last. The clack clack clack of the wooden swords meeting beat Luthar’s ears as much as any of the strikes he faced. He missed a high block and Leyton’s sword came crashing down onto his shoulder, pain lanced down his arm and exploded in his hand. He dropped his sword into the dirt and Leyton kicked it away, out of reach.

‘Yield.’ Said Luthar, knowing he was beaten.

Leyton said nothing but planted a boot into his chest, sending him crashing onto his back, dust rising all about him. Luthar saw Chadwick leaning on the fence that surrounded the training square. Unsurprisingly, his face betrayed no emotion. Feeling that he was letting his old teacher down; he ignored the burning pain in his shoulder and stood as quickly as he could. His chest shook; partly from his exhaustion and partly from Leyton’s boot. These sessions had gone on for half a year now, each day he would rise early and be brutalised by Leyton in the square before midday dinner. Then, each afternoon he would spar with all comers, from fresh faced squires to grizzled old members who wanted to knock him down a peg or two.

‘How tall are you Luthar?’ Asked Leyton simply, as if they were talking over a mug of ale.

‘An inch shy of six feet.’

‘Hm. Still growing?’

‘I don’t think so. I was seventeen last moon, and most boys don’t grow beyond then.’

‘I agree. That sword I gave you…’ Leyton stopped speaking and unleashed a barrage of blows at Luthar, forcing him backwards towards the fence.

Luthar managed to duck out of the way before he was backed into a corner, he set himself ready for the next attack.

‘Get Yan to melt it down. A greatsword is too big for you. You’re not big and you’re not strong. You need to be lithe and quick. Like a butterfly.’

The next attack came quickly, Luthar managed to block three blows before Leyton grabbed the pommel of his sword, pulling him closer until they were nose to nose. Leyton’s broken nose whistled slightly as he drew breath, Lady Akindra had worked her best healing skills for days, yet it stubbornly refused to set straight.

‘See? Not strong.’ Leyton confirmed, before throwing Luthar a few feet to his left. He tumbled in the dirt for the second time that morning, dried mud clinging to his damp skin.

Luthar could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, itching to prove himself, he gathered up his wooden sparring sword once more, dusted himself off and faced the grizzled guildmaster.

‘An arming sword would suit you, nothing more than three feet. The rest of the steel would serve as a dagger or short sword for your belt.’

Luthar saw his chance, he advanced on Leyton quickly, looking high, but going low. His change of direction wrongfooted Leyton for a moment and Luthar’s sword grazed his arm at the elbow. Panting, Luthar set up his next attack, aiming for the biggest target, Leyton’s chest. This time his sparring partner was equal to the lunge and dodged left at the last moment. Pain erupted in Luthar’s knee upon impact of Leyton’s sword, he stumbled, then fell face first into the dirt.

He lay there for a few seconds, trying to regain his composure after this latest humiliation. The dirt clung to him, scraping his skin red raw. Sand was often mixed into the dry dirt to soak up any blood that may be spilled. When he finally raised his head, he saw Leyton leaning on the fence, casually sipping from a water skin, and talking to Chadwick. Luthar heaved himself to his feet and limped over to join them.

He took a long swallow from his own skin and leaned on the fence, catching his breath.

‘You’ve much work ahead of you Luthar.’ Leyton’s calm, matter of fact manner was beginning to grate on him.

‘I’ll keep at it.’ He took more water from his skin. He felt he could sweat it out faster than drink it.

‘See that you do.’ Without another word, Leyton strode off to the hall.

‘Don’t worry lad, you’re getting there. Not a man in this guild would take the punishment he’s giving you these days.’ Said Chadwick. Ezekiel and Flint had long since departed with their squires. Luthar was glad that he still had his friend and former teacher present though.

‘What is he trying to prove? Kicking my arse every day isn’t helping anyone.’

‘It’s helping you. It doesn’t seem it now, but if you want to be a winner in the squares once, you have to be a loser in them a hundred times.’

Luthar sighed. ‘I suppose.’ The self-doubt was beginning to creep into Luthar’s mind. Was he really as good as everyone seemed to think?

Chadwick picked up the wooden swords. ‘Come on, get yourself cleaned up. Leyton has plans for you today.’

After taking his prized sword to be melted down as per Leyton’s instructions, and a steaming hot bath, Luthar entered the great hall and took a seat at the member’s table with Chadwick.

‘Feeling better?’ He asked Luthar, pouring him a drink.

‘Much better. Think I’m just frustrated.’

‘What were you expecting from your training?’

‘I honestly don’t know. I just thought it would be… different.’

Stare firmly in place, Chadwick paused, ale halfway to his mouth. ‘Would you rather be out there earning your keep?’

‘I’m not sure. Don’t know what’s the best path for me to take.’

‘You’ve proved yourself many times over. You saved us at the mill, you took down one of the most dangerous mountain folk for generations. Hell, you even stood up to your brothers’ mere days after being promoted! Hopes are high for you, and rightly so, but you need to keep working and keep striving, else it’s all for nought.’

Luthar was saved from having to reply by the doors opening and Leyton entering. He spied them and headed right for them, looking oddly preoccupied.

‘Young Luthar, I have some more training for you.’ He said, easing himself into the next seat.

‘More training? Am I not sparring this afternoon?’

‘Not anymore. Sparring with squires and old men holds little value for you anymore, and I have urgent business to be about, so our lessons can no longer continue. I’m sending you to Jakai to continue your training with L’Beira. He also holds the rank of Blademaster from the guild. You will obey his teachings as you have my own.’

‘How long will I train with him for?’

‘As long as it takes.’ With that, Leyton got up and left, leaving Luthar and Chadwick alone together.

Their midday dinner arrived before they could say anymore. Dark bread, cheese, apples, and a slice of salted beef. Luthar tucked in hungrily, famished after the morning’s exertions.

‘What will you do when I’m gone to Jakai?’ Asked Luthar after he’d washed his dinner down with a mouthful of ale.

‘Hear there’s a new squire waiting for training. Goes by the name of Karl. A good lad apparently, so shouldn’t take too long to get him knocked into shape.’

‘You knocked a Karl into shape at Highgate if I remember rightly!’

‘That’s true! He was a tougher bastard than any squire I’ve ever met!’

‘Any squire?’ Asked Luthar, smiling.

‘As I recall, you’ve never been walloped for real yet.’

‘Maybe you should try being quicker!’

Chadwick laughed, not a sight that Luthar had seen often before. He’d been a stern teacher, but since Luthar’s promotion he’d become warmer and more open. Luthar was glad, in this world a man needed friends.

‘What do you know of Jakai? If I’m to be sent there, then I’d better learn of it.’

‘It’s in the Confederacy of City States, on the north side of the desert. Funny old people over there, deeply mistrust foreigners and their ways. Our gods have no place there, you can be imprisoned for praying to them. They worship the sun and moon as representations of life and death.’

‘And this L’Beira, have you met him?’

‘Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. To my mind Leyton was our only Blademaster. Just treat him with the same respect as you would any other senior member and you’ll do fine. I imagine you’ll be learning their fighting styles, maybe get to the coliseum too.’

‘New styles?’ Luthar could not fathom what they could be.

‘Their gladiators often fight with spears and a shield, sometimes with a short sword at their belt. I’m sure you’ll see them when you arrive.’

Luthar spent the evening alone in his room, away from the hustle and bustle of the great hall. Its previous occupant had left a painting of a dragon perched atop some city walls, sending a spout of flame high into the air. He stood and stared, hoping that dragons never returned to the three kingdoms. His saddlebags sat at the end of his bed, already packed with his few belongings, his armour on its stand, polished and waiting for his return. Apparently, the men in Jakai fought bare chested, another strange tradition.

He slept fitfully, visions of fighting in front of thousands of bloodthirsty southern men haunted his dreams. More than once he woke up whilst it was still dark, drenched in cold sweat. When the birds finally woke him at dawn, his head pounded, and his body felt as though Leyton had already begun knocking lumps out of him. Elisabeth lay peacefully beside him; he’d not noticed her come to bed.

As quietly as he could, he pulled on his trousers and a fresh shirt. He laced up his boots and was ready. He bent down to kiss Elisabeth softly on her cheek, causing her to stir.

‘Where are you going?’ She asked, barely opening her eyes.

‘Jakai, for training.’

‘For how long?’

‘Leyton didn’t say, I guess I’ll be back for the winter moons.’

‘Take care, my love.’ Elisabeth wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Luthar felt tears pricking the back of his eyes as they broke apart. He’d asked Chadwick to look after her if anything ever happened to him, but if he was in Jakai and Chadwick was away, what would become of her? If anything were to happen to her, he couldn’t live with himself.

He took one last look from the mighty dragon on his wall to the delicate form of Elisabeth in his bed, and headed out, saddlebags over his shoulder. It could be a long time before they slept together in his room again. The corridors of the guild were quiet, no doubt a few of the men would be sleeping off hangovers. He padded along the rich carpet to the stairs and down into the entrance hall. Not even Terence had made an appearance yet, for which Luthar was pleased. He didn’t want to have to explain where he was headed, or why.

The morning was bright and not yet hot, he took in deep lungfuls of air, smelling straw, coal, and horses. The only sign of life at this hour was the smoke beginning to appear at Yan’s chimney. Luthar headed for his door, keen to pick up his newly forged weapon.

When he entered, he saw Yan working away at his tool bench already drenched in sweat under his red beard and leather apron.

‘Morning Luthar. All finished for you.’ He said by way of greeting. He handed him a bundle, wrapped tight in cloth, as Leyton had said, about three feet long.

‘Thanks Yan, I won’t be back for some time now. Take care of yourself.’ He held out his hand, which Yan grasped, dwarfing Luthar’s hand with his own.

‘You too, travel safe.’

Luthar took his leave and headed for the stables, unwrapping the bundle as he went. The arming sword was exactly how he imagined, plain, but functional. Three feet long from pommel to point, double edged and viciously sharp. Also in the bundle, a shorter sword that Luthar recognised as a gladius, commonly used by the Peccothian army. It had no crossguard to speak of, but again, was double edged and sharp. He could think of no finer weapon as a reserve. Two scabbards completed the bundle, which Luthar strapped around his waist, longsword on his left, gladius to his right. With two incredible weapons at his belt, a feeling of concern grew that he wasn’t worthy of wielding them.

He paused, almost at the stables. Lady Akindra had appeared, leading her horse, saddled, and already loaded with her bags. She wore a riding dress and boots, pristine as always.

‘Are you leaving us, my lady?’ Asked Luthar.

‘I am, it is time for me to begin my next venture. I understand you are taking the road today also?’

‘That’s right. I’m headed for Stonebrooke, then catching a ship to Jakai. Leyton has further training for me there.’

‘A happy coincidence.’ She smiled at Luthar as she patted her horse’s neck. ‘I too am bound for Jakai. It would please me to share the road with you.’

Luthar doubted that this was a coincidence at all. He raised his eyebrows slightly, which only made Lady Akindra smile at him more. She ventured no further explanation, adding to Luthar’s confusion.

Within a few minutes, Luthar was mounted upon Stepper, saddle and saddlebags firmly strapped in place. As Stepper carried him out onto the road, Lady Akindra fell in beside him, clearly eager to talk.

‘You seem troubled Luthar, you should never depart from home with a heavy heart.’

‘Something has been bothering me for quite some time, but I can’t seem to straighten it out.’

‘What is it?’ Lady Akindra looked concerned.

‘Nearly every day since I arrived at the guild people have been telling me that I’m destined to be a Blademaster, or that I’m the most talented swordsman in generations. But I don’t see it. Now, I’m being sent halfway across the world, possibly to fight in a coliseum in a new style I’ve never seen. Part of me feels like I’m just going there to die!’ Luthar couldn’t keep the fear from entering his voice.

‘I understand what you mean. But try not to worry yourself over it. Once, you were a novice with a longsword, now you can hold your own against most members of the guild. Some men, older than you, are still squires remember. You learned the longsword, so you can master whatever L’Beira can give you.’

‘Thank you. I just hope you’re right.’ Luthar looked back to the guild, now shrinking over the horizon. His place of safety slowly disappeared from sight.

‘I always am.’ The joke did little to break the growing sense of terror that was spreading over him.