makeshift
weapon to gain its balance.
"OK,
show me what you've learned so far," she taunted, flashing him
one of her rare, toothy grins. When Drom had first joined them her
sharp, pointed teeth made him nervous, but he had gotten used to them
during their time on the road. Now he viewed them as a rather
attractive feature on his feral friend.
Taking
the initiative, he stepped into a hard swing to her left thigh, which
as expected she blocked with a downward swing. Twisting his body and
turning his wrist, he used the momentum of her block to propel his
blade back around in a shallow arc, firing a quick shot to the right
side of her head. She smiled and ducked under the swing, bringing her
branch up high into his stomach.
Oomph! He doubled over as the air rushed out of his lungs. Thankfully, she
pulled back on the strike at the last second, so the attack only
knocked the wind out of him.
She
could easily have broken one or two of my ribs with that attack, he
realized. H ad it been a blade she surely would have gutted
me.
Once
again he saw the prudence in using the imitation weapons, though even
they could be dangerous.
"Your
speed was decent for a beginner. However, your footwork was off and
you telegraphed your attack pattern." Even while she was
scolding him she seemed to be enjoying herself. She strutted across
the other side of the small clearing they fought in, her tail
flicking behind her playfully. "Try something different. Assume
you are fighting a skilled opponent, which you are, and treat this as
a fight to the death. Treat every fight like that from now on.
Remember, it's not always the strongest fighter who wins. Try to
think of a way to defeat me."
He
faced her a second time, refusing to comment.
I
was treating the fight seriously, he
thought silently . He knew, however, that she had more
experience and skill with a blade than he did.
How
do I defeat someone who’s a lot better than I am?
She
stood across from him confidently, certain of her own ability. He
jumped forward, attacking the same way he had the first time. Once
again she blocked with a downward strike, and once again he turned to
fire an attack at the opposite side. He hoped that she would move the
same way, ducking underneath and going for his exposed midsection. He
planned on stepping back, using his greater reach to his advantage
and cut straight across, which would block her attack and counter at
the same time.
As
if sensing his plan, she changed her tactic. This time she didn’t
duck underneath the blow as she had, but instead stepped forward and
blocked directly, using her momentum to counter with a downward
strike.
He
saw the attack coming and rolled his wrist to bring the bottom edge
of his blade in front of him, blocking high. Instead of countering
with his blade, however, he threw a palm strike at chest level with
his other hand. For a brief second he was certain that his blow was
going to land. In fear he tried to pull the strike, but knew that
there wasn’t enough time.
No!
He
had just enough time to see her smile.
She
moved smoothly to her right, neatly dodging his strike, and countered
with a vicious vertical attack aimed at the top of his head. He
raised his sword quickly to block. He barely got his weapon up in
time. He clenched his muscles against the powerful blow he knew must
be coming.
The
blow he was expecting never came. In fact, her strike barely touched
his blocking blade at all. Instead, it slid down his weapon’s
edge and, like a striking snake, thrust directly at his heart.
His
mind screamed in panic.
Even
a wooden stick could kill me if she stabs me in the heart with it! He felt something inside him change.
No,
this was not a change at all, he realized. It had always been
there. It had been waiting, hidden behind a curtain, and now that
curtain lifted, allowing what was once inside to come out.
His
body moved quickly to the left, almost of its own accord, as if
instinctively. Tara’s imitation weapon
weapon to gain its balance.
"OK,
show me what you've learned so far," she taunted, flashing him
one of her rare, toothy grins. When Drom had first joined them her
sharp, pointed teeth made him nervous, but he had gotten used to them
during their time on the road. Now he viewed them as a rather
attractive feature on his feral friend.
Taking
the initiative, he stepped into a hard swing to her left thigh, which
as expected she blocked with a downward swing. Twisting his body and
turning his wrist, he used the momentum of her block to propel his
blade back around in a shallow arc, firing a quick shot to the right
side of her head. She smiled and ducked under the swing, bringing her
branch up high into his stomach.
Oomph! He doubled over as the air rushed out of his lungs. Thankfully, she
pulled back on the strike at the last second, so the attack only
knocked the wind out of him.
She
could easily have broken one or two of my ribs with that attack, he
realized. H ad it been a blade she surely would have gutted
me.
Once
again he saw the prudence in using the imitation weapons, though even
they could be dangerous.
"Your
speed was decent for a beginner. However, your footwork was off and
you telegraphed your attack pattern." Even while she was
scolding him she seemed to be enjoying herself. She strutted across
the other side of the small clearing they fought in, her tail
flicking behind her playfully. "Try something different. Assume
you are fighting a skilled opponent, which you are, and treat this as
a fight to the death. Treat every fight like that from now on.
Remember, it's not always the strongest fighter who wins. Try to
think of a way to defeat me."
He
faced her a second time, refusing to comment.
I
was treating the fight seriously, he
thought silently . He knew, however, that she had more
experience and skill with a blade than he did.
How
do I defeat someone who’s a lot better than I am?
She
stood across from him confidently, certain of her own ability. He
jumped forward, attacking the same way he had the first time. Once
again she blocked with a downward strike, and once again he turned to
fire an attack at the opposite side. He hoped that she would move the
same way, ducking underneath and going for his exposed midsection. He
planned on stepping back, using his greater reach to his advantage
and cut straight across, which would block her attack and counter at
the same time.
As
if sensing his plan, she changed her tactic. This time she didn’t
duck underneath the blow as she had, but instead stepped forward and
blocked directly, using her momentum to counter with a downward
strike.
He
saw the attack coming and rolled his wrist to bring the bottom edge
of his blade in front of him, blocking high. Instead of countering
with his blade, however, he threw a palm strike at chest level with
his other hand. For a brief second he was certain that his blow was
going to land. In fear he tried to pull the strike, but knew that
there wasn’t enough time.
No!
He
had just enough time to see her smile.
She
moved smoothly to her right, neatly dodging his strike, and countered
with a vicious vertical attack aimed at the top of his head. He
raised his sword quickly to block. He barely got his weapon up in
time. He clenched his muscles against the powerful blow he knew must
be coming.
The
blow he was expecting never came. In fact, her strike barely touched
his blocking blade at all. Instead, it slid down his weapon’s
edge and, like a striking snake, thrust directly at his heart.
His
mind screamed in panic.
Even
a wooden stick could kill me if she stabs me in the heart with it! He felt something inside him change.
No,
this was not a change at all, he realized. It had always been
there. It had been waiting, hidden behind a curtain, and now that
curtain lifted, allowing what was once inside to come out.
His
body moved quickly to the left, almost of its own accord, as if
instinctively. Tara’s imitation weapon
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