Eric was getting tired of hitting wooden training posts. It was what he’d been doing for the past hour, and three hours the day before. If he were asked, he couldn’t tell which part he hated more. It could have been the dull, mundane part of it all, or it could also be how the shock of slamming a wooden stick into a wooden post was starting to render his arm numb. Yet again, it could be the fact that it was boring. Compared to a real fight, there was no sense of urgency or adrenaline to spice it up.

Well, at least it was better than the five miles he’d been told to run that morning. Woken up at the crack of dawn with the rest of the trainees, he’d been told that, if he wanted breakfast, he had to run around the city. Twice. The looks on the faces of the Queen’s Guard had been embarrassing enough. Apparently, it was regular entertainment for the men posted on the morning and night shifts.

Eric’s eighty gold, in addition to paying for a week of intense training, also provided a whole litany of physical exercises. A run in the morning, combat drills after breakfast, live demonstrations after lunch, and a complex obstacle course in the evening. They had to complete the course at least once without falling in order to complete training for the day. Everybody fell at least once, and the entire course was spread throughout a field of mud and filth, which was conveniently ice-cold.

“Break!” The instructor’s voice cut through the fog of Eric’s thought. He allowed the wooden practice sword in his hand to come to a stop and shifted to parade rest. “Come get a drink.”

All fourteen of the trainees stumbled over, letting out sighs of relief and snatching waterskins. Most of them dropped their weapons on the ground or leaned them against the water bench, but a few, including Eric, kept a hold of them. It was a force of habit that was drilled into you after a few fights, and it marked out those who actually had some combat experience.

The water was nice and cold, courtesy of the mage who had attended the apprentices who brought it. It felt heavenly as it slid down Eric’s throat, and he let out a sigh of appreciation. Then, surprising the trainees next to him, he dumped the rest of it over his head. That was better. His head cleared considerably, and the near-freezing water seemed to refresh the rest of his body.

He wasn’t sure if it was the strong body that Samuel had made for him or the progress he’d made since arriving in Ahya, but the physical exertion wasn’t as traumatizing for Eric as it was for his classmates. He was sore to be sure, but he could also distinctly feel the effect it had on his overall speed, strength, and stamina. He could swing the weapon in his hand for longer bursts now, so that an hour straight, which put his fellows near exhaustion, was only a heavy workout for him.

“Good work today, Apprentice Breeden,” A voice said from behind him. He turned to see the instructor approaching him. Eric had only spoken to him once before and knew his name was Kahle Ciayol.

“Thank you, Master Kahle,” he said, coming to stiff attention. “I’m trying as hard as I can.”

“At ease,” Kahle replied, grinning. “Come with me. I need to speak with you.”

Confused but curious, Eric followed the instructor as he walked away from the rest of the trainees. He’d heard a few stories about this man since he’d first signed up for training. Rumor was that he had trained quite a few exceptional warriors for all the fighting forces of Tyrman. His main work was in training the Maravino, that elite force of soldiers who served the Crown. His most legendary apprentice was none other than Enri Ciayol, his cousin and Captain of the Queen’s Guard.

He was a massive, imposing figure, who had the unconscious effect of making anybody within ten feet nervous. Everything about the man was intimidating, which was most likely to his draconic nature. A member of the first branch of the Ciayol family, he was technically part of the Royal Family, something like eighteenth from the throne. His grandfather had been Atlas Ciayol, the firstborn of Bora Bora, and the second in the family to take the throne.

“Am I making some mistake?” Eric asked as soon as they stopped walking. His nerves were as taut as a bowstring. “Am I falling behind in my training?”

“Quite the opposite,” Kahle said. “I’m pulling you aside to let you know that I’m advancing your training.”

“Advancing?” Eric queried. “How so?”

“I imagine that all this drilling is driving you crazy,” Kahle commented, quite accurately. “Each time I take in a group of students from your Guild, I have the option to tweak their training program however I see fit.”

“I see,” Eric answered, not sure that he did. “What will I be doing instead?”

Kahle studied him in silence for a moment before answering, his gaze heavy and slightly frightening as usual. “If I remember correctly, your preferred fighting style is two blades? The left weapon being shorter?”

“Yes, sir,” Eric agreed. “I’m still very new to it, but I find it better than a shield.”

“As I thought. So, I am instead going to focus your training less on power and stamina, and more on speed and agility.”

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Eric opened his mouth to comment, but Kahle forestalled him with a raised hand. “You will continue with the morning run and the obstacle course. But for combat training, you will instead be training one-on-one with a warrior who excels in the same style of combat.”

“Oh,” it was all Eric could think to say. “That does sound good. Will you be the one to teach me?”

“Me?” Kahle repeated, his face blankly confused. “No. Heavens, no. I use a sword bigger than you, boy. No, your trainer will be another. In fact, I believe you know him. He is sponsoring you, after all.”

A cold hand seemed to clutch at Eric’s heart, stopping it for a fraction of a second. Of course, he’d be involved with this part of his training, he thought. “Master Tokugawa. But I thought he used a single sword?”

“He uses two weapons,” Kahle corrected him. “But he is rarely ever required to use more than one.”

“That fits,” Eric said with a snort. Then he clamped a hand over his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say it, but the words had slipped out.

“I’m glad you agree with my method,” another voice said. “Now let’s get to work. We’re burning daylight.”

Eric turned slowly to see Ehran Tokugawa approaching, and gave him a shallow bow. “Start? What are we going to do?”

He could tell at once by Ehran’s grin that he wasn’t going to like the answer before it even came. “Pick up your stick, Eric. Follow me.”

Eric spared half a glance for Instructor Kahle, but the man had already moved on. He’d settled himself on a bench with a waterskin, and was looking over at the trainees with an obviously amused grin. This couldn’t mean anything good, Eric thought. But a large part of him was excited for the challenge that would come, so he followed Ehran without complaint or question.

“Look lively, you all,” Ehran said, leading Eric off to the side of the training posts. “For the next hour, I am your instructor. Call me what you want, just pay attention.”

The other trainees muttered interestedly amongst themselves. Most of them clearly recognized Ehran and were interested to see him in one of their routine training sessions. At a gesture from the master, they formed a loose circle around him and Eric, holding their wooden swords loosely. Eric moved to take his position in the circle, feeling a strong sense of deja vu, but Ehran gripped him by the shoulder and yanked him back to the center. Uh oh.

“I can see you get what is required,” Ehran said to him with a grin. He turned to address the others. “This here is Eric Breeden. You know him as one of your fellow apprentices, but his training is taking on a slightly different shape. For the next hour, you will be fighting. One at a time.”

A shocked muttering broke out, and one of the other trainees raised a hand. “Umm, Master Tokugawa, there are thirteen of us.”

“So there are,” Ehran replied with a little bounce. “Anything else you wish to point out?”

“I’m an apprentice,” Eric said, that tight cold hand holding his heart once more. “And there are thirteen of them.”

“Oh, don’t complain,” Ehran said, slapping him on the shoulder. “You want to learn as fast as possible, right?”

When Eric gave a tentative nod, Ehran made a gesture with his hand as if to say, ‘well there’s your answer’. It did nothing to make him feel better, but he suspected that was the intention. Heaving a deep sigh, he cast a nervous glance around the circle of faces. They looked just as hesitant as he did. Small comfort, he thought with a snort.”

“Eric here is free to reply to the attacks however he sees fit,” Ehran continued. “But you may only come one at a time. And once you are repelled, you are done. We go until he’s either completed the circle, or he’s hit.”

Eric opened his mouth to ask a question, but Ehran gave him no chance. “Begin!”

There was a pause of several seconds, then the trainee facing Eric charged forward, his sword coming down in a clumsy overhead. Eric knocked the blade to the side with ease, then smacked the back of his knee with a quick back-hand stroke. The blow staggered the trainee slightly, but he recovered. He looked like he wanted to continue, but a pointed look from Ehran made him retreat to his original place.

Yet again there was a long pause. Ehran let out a quiet noise of impatience. “Next person! We don’t have all day!”

The next attack came from the right, and it was just as clumsy. Eric stepped into the trainee’s reach before he could even start his round swing, seizing the sword wrist with his left hand, and yanking him forward. As he pulled, he also swung out a leg, tripping the boy and sending him sprawling on the dusty ground. Two for two. Not bad, Eric thought. But they’re all slow and still hesitating.

The third came from behind, and slightly to the left. Eric’s attention was still focused on the apprentice he’d tossed to the ground, making sure he wasn’t going to try again. The wooden weapon cracked across Eric’s back, making him wince. He wasn’t wearing any of his protective metal armor, and the practice swords were made of hardened hickory. It was exceptionally painful.

“Only two?” Ehran asked incredulously. He pointed at the two Eric had repelled. “You can do better than that. You two, resume your positions. Start again.”

Again, Eric dealt with the attacks within his field of vision easily enough. They were all launched with obvious intent, and so slow that they might as well have been play-acting. Eric smacked the sword out of the first apprentice’s grip and sent the other staggering back with a quick shove to the chest. The third attack, which came from behind again, he was able to turn and intercept in time. He smacked that one across the shoulder.

The fourth attack was different. He was one of those who had experienced combat before taking the training, and his approach was unique in comparison. Instead of starting out with one big, powerful strike, he opted for several rapid strikes, which Eric desperately parried with his own sword. When he thrust out for a counter-attack, the trainee jumped nimbly to the side and whacked him on the point of his elbow. His arm went numb instantly, and his weapon fell from slack fingers into the dust.

“Come on Eric,” Ehran chided. “You can do better than that. Again!”