Trek to Kraggen-Cor by 1932- Dennis L. McKiernan Page A
Authors: 1932- Dennis L. McKiernan
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Shortly, the Warrow began to see that swordplay was more than just wild swinging; furthermore, it came as no small surprise that no matter how cunningly he planned a cut, Lord Kian fended it, seemingly without effort.
When Cotton's turn came he attacked with a furious flurry, the clack of the wooden swords clitter-clattering among the trees of the verging forest, but he, too, could not pierce Lord Kian's defenses. Yet, on his part, the young Man was astonished at the native quickness of this small Folk. Each Warrow was breathless and panting in a matter of minutes; but their exuberance had grown, and each had collapsed upon the ground in laughter at the end of his turn at mock battle, whooping and guffawing at his own ineptness. Even so, they had passed the first hurdle; and now they were ready to begin their genuine schooling, with its slow, step-by-step, often tedious buildup of skill.
Much to the buccen's surprise, as breathless as they were, only a short while had passed; even so, it was time to get under way again. As the wain
rolled back onto the road, Lord Kian began their formal instruction: "For your swords to be effective weapons in battle, the grip is critical: hold it too tightly and you cannot move the weapon quickly enough; hold it too loosely and you will forfeit your sword at first engagement. You must grasp the weapon as if it were a small live bird, firm enough so that it cannot escape your hand and fly away, yet gentle enough so as not to crush its life. . . ." And thus, in the bed of a rolling waggon, the young Lord began their first lesson, each Warrow repeatedly grasping his sword under Kian's critical eye while he spoke of defense against the Spaunen.
At their next stop, their drill followed the lesson of the wain: the grip. Lord Kian directed the buccen to deliberately grasp the sword too loosely, and showed that this would lead to their being disarmed immediately; then the opposite was purposely tried, where too hard a grip was used, so that the Warrows could experience the limited speed of response and the swift tiring of the wrist and forearm.
As the waggon got under way once more, Cotton exclaimed, "Well now, not only do I understand the right way to hold a sword, but the wrong way too! I like the way you teach, Lord Kian, and that's a fact!"
"It is the way I was taught, Cotton," replied the Man. "Not only did I learn the fit ways of fundamental swordsmanship, but the unfit ways as well, the differences between them, why some ways are superior to others, and, as it is in your case, how they all relate to fighting Spaunen. Yes, Cotton, my own swordmaster taught me by this means, and a good method it is."
"Tried and true," rumbled Borin, then fell silent.
"Well, in any event," interjected Perry, "if what I've learned about the grip alone is any example of how well your approach works, then I just hope that you continue it throughout our journey."
"Fear not, Wee One," responded Kian, "I plan on doing just that; in the days that follow, there'll be little or no time for aught else.
"Now, let us speak of balance: When facing a foe . . ." And again the Man took up the lessons of the sword, and the Warrows listened intently as the waggon rolled toward the next stop.
On that first day alone, by the time they reached their evening campsite on the southern slopes of the Battle Downs just after sunset, the Warrows not only knew how to grip a sword, but also the importance of balance, several stances, and how to fall and roll with a weapon in hand. And though they had not again crossed swords in mock battle, after but a single day's training, Perry and Cotton, though rank beginners, knew more about sword-play than nearly all other Warrows in the history of the Boskydells. And the two buccen were to become much more skilled in the long days ahead.
That night Cotton sat on a log near the campfire, polishing his Atalar sword with a soft red-flannel cloth. The golden runes inlaid along the silver blade
When Cotton's turn came he attacked with a furious flurry, the clack of the wooden swords clitter-clattering among the trees of the verging forest, but he, too, could not pierce Lord Kian's defenses. Yet, on his part, the young Man was astonished at the native quickness of this small Folk. Each Warrow was breathless and panting in a matter of minutes; but their exuberance had grown, and each had collapsed upon the ground in laughter at the end of his turn at mock battle, whooping and guffawing at his own ineptness. Even so, they had passed the first hurdle; and now they were ready to begin their genuine schooling, with its slow, step-by-step, often tedious buildup of skill.
Much to the buccen's surprise, as breathless as they were, only a short while had passed; even so, it was time to get under way again. As the wain
rolled back onto the road, Lord Kian began their formal instruction: "For your swords to be effective weapons in battle, the grip is critical: hold it too tightly and you cannot move the weapon quickly enough; hold it too loosely and you will forfeit your sword at first engagement. You must grasp the weapon as if it were a small live bird, firm enough so that it cannot escape your hand and fly away, yet gentle enough so as not to crush its life. . . ." And thus, in the bed of a rolling waggon, the young Lord began their first lesson, each Warrow repeatedly grasping his sword under Kian's critical eye while he spoke of defense against the Spaunen.
At their next stop, their drill followed the lesson of the wain: the grip. Lord Kian directed the buccen to deliberately grasp the sword too loosely, and showed that this would lead to their being disarmed immediately; then the opposite was purposely tried, where too hard a grip was used, so that the Warrows could experience the limited speed of response and the swift tiring of the wrist and forearm.
As the waggon got under way once more, Cotton exclaimed, "Well now, not only do I understand the right way to hold a sword, but the wrong way too! I like the way you teach, Lord Kian, and that's a fact!"
"It is the way I was taught, Cotton," replied the Man. "Not only did I learn the fit ways of fundamental swordsmanship, but the unfit ways as well, the differences between them, why some ways are superior to others, and, as it is in your case, how they all relate to fighting Spaunen. Yes, Cotton, my own swordmaster taught me by this means, and a good method it is."
"Tried and true," rumbled Borin, then fell silent.
"Well, in any event," interjected Perry, "if what I've learned about the grip alone is any example of how well your approach works, then I just hope that you continue it throughout our journey."
"Fear not, Wee One," responded Kian, "I plan on doing just that; in the days that follow, there'll be little or no time for aught else.
"Now, let us speak of balance: When facing a foe . . ." And again the Man took up the lessons of the sword, and the Warrows listened intently as the waggon rolled toward the next stop.
On that first day alone, by the time they reached their evening campsite on the southern slopes of the Battle Downs just after sunset, the Warrows not only knew how to grip a sword, but also the importance of balance, several stances, and how to fall and roll with a weapon in hand. And though they had not again crossed swords in mock battle, after but a single day's training, Perry and Cotton, though rank beginners, knew more about sword-play than nearly all other Warrows in the history of the Boskydells. And the two buccen were to become much more skilled in the long days ahead.
That night Cotton sat on a log near the campfire, polishing his Atalar sword with a soft red-flannel cloth. The golden runes inlaid along the silver blade
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