A few weeks had passed since John had overheard the argument between his family and despite appearances, he was not doing well. He always knew he had to have a father, but it never was a big deal as his grandfather took to that role very easily. But hearing that he was alive, and might just reject him, not to mention the fact that he was, by the standards of the day, a bastard.
Whenever Eli or others would ask John about why he seemed to have less energy he would simply pass it off as hayfever and difficulties sleeping, the latter of which was certainly true. He knew that for all intents and purposes, he was depressed, but being in the 1760s the occupation of the therapist was nonexistent with the closest thing being a priest, but he didn't feel like talking to a religious official about his family's private matters.
This state of affairs continued for about a month before John learned that the Frenchman had finally arrived.
From news of his arrival, it took a few more days for the man to begin his journey north to the Carpenter Estate. John was excited about the stranger's arrival, not as much as Eli who could barely contain his excitement as he had fallen in love with the tales of King Arthur more than he had. With the dream of being a swordsman, Eli constantly took to smacking a large stick into a tree to, “strengthen his cutting arm.”
John was sitting in the dining room eating a simple lunch of a meat and bread dish that could be generously called a hamburger, but what could you do when ketchup wasn't invented yet. Putting down the disappointing but still familiar meal Eli came bursting through the door with the largest smile John had ever seen in either of his lives.
“He is here, the French man is finally here. Come on, come on, we need to go now.”
Even in his less than lively state John was excited to meet his stranger from across the ocean so he sat up, adjusted his clothes to make himself presentable, and followed his friend out at a brisk enough pace.
Meeting him on the porch John stands next to Eli looking off into the distance as a small dot on the horizon appears. As it gets closer a few details start to become visible. The man's visage cuts a sharp contrast between the simple fields and houses of colonial Pennsylvania.
Approaching on horseback is a man, no older than 35 with a clean-shaven face and neat hair. A blue cloak covered him as he rode, a small pack on his back, but the most distinct thing on him was the large black caviar hat he wore.
Stopping in front of the house the man gracefully slides off the stallion and looks around. He holds an air of confidence and regality as he walks forward toward the two boys. Stopping right before the steps of the house he looks up and asks in a thick French accent.
“Are you two my new students?”
Eli quickly steps forward, “Yes sir, we are. I am Eli Thompson, this is John Carpenter.” John gives a small bow after Eli introduces him.
“I see, I am Alois De Armand. I am to teach you how to fight with the blade. I shall speak to my employer and will meet with the two of you later.”
After saying this Alois walks up the stairs and into the house brushing past the two boys.
“Well, he seems pleasant” Eli remarks after a few seconds.
“He sure does,” John says with a small smile.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
After that day the two boys would begin their lesions in swordsmanship, or so they thought. For the first two weeks, they spent hours a day perfecting stance and learning techniques through demonstration. While they both remained in high spirits the lack of actual swordfighting was starting to grate John the wrong way. They finally began to learn with a sword but much to their continued chagrin Alois had them using wooden practice sabers to learn how to properly cut and slash.
“Once you can properly cut then you can begin to practice with me.” was the phrase that he constantly said.
On the 8th day of using wooden swords, Armand walked up to the two of them and looked directly at Eli.
“You, today you will begin sword fighting practice with me, come, follow.”
Eli looks over cautiously to John who gives a nod pusing toward Alois. After which Eli cautiously follows the Frenchman.
And so more time passes with Eli learning directly from the swordmaster while John is stuck practicing thrusts, cuts, and parrying. At first, he understands Eli finishing first as he did is “practice” but after three days it is getting on his nerves. Halfway through the fourth day of doing this John finally got fed up with the absolute nothing he was doing.
Marching toward the area where the others are training. Reaching Alois he steps right up next to the swordsman.
“What is going on, why have I been waiting these past few days for absolutely nothing to happen? What am I doing wrong.”
Showing little emotion the Frenchman looks down at John, “Nothing, your form is good, your stance satisfactory and your timing is impeccable. You just don't seem to want to do it.”
Hearing this seemed to flip a switch in Johns's mind, “Don't want to do it! I am the one who asked to learn sword fighting, I have been practicing for days, SO HOW DO I NOT WANT TO LEARN SWORDFIGHTING!”
Alois looks over at Eli, “Young Thompson, please go to the house I need to have a talk with you friend.”
Eli quietly nods and quickly runs over to the house to avoid whatever is happening with John.
Looking back over to him Alois says, “Let us duel, You will use what you have learned and we will fight and I will decide whether or not you are ready.”
This gives John a small smile, he has always been a quick study and physically fit so he confidently walked up to the swordsman and got into the proper stance for a saber duel. Doing the same Alois motions for John to make the first move.
Quickly stepping forward John strikes from the right which is quickly parried, then a thrust to the center which he steps aside and counters with a strike on his blade that knocks John back. Slashing to Johns's head he quickly rolls on the ground to the left and motions with an upward slice as he stands up, one that is quickly dodged by a few steps back.
The duel continues like this for a while with John exerting himself as Alois dodges and parries with relative ease.
“This is your problem, you want to hit me. But you don't seem to care about hitting me. You move fast and strong but there is no mental effort behind your blade but the next move. Your mind is distracted and clouded with this melancholic mood you find yourself in. What is the problem that disallows you to truly focus and duel me with conviction.”
John lets his sword arm droop and gives into the exhaustion he is feeling, “It is just, I don't know who I am. I know my mother and grandfather, but I don't know my father, and the people who know won't talk about it.”
“So you are a fatherless bastard, that is not what I expected to hear,” The way this was casually said shocks John and angers him.
“I don't mean that as a complement young sir, William the Conqueror started out as William the Bastard, and Marcus Aurelius of the Roman Empire never knew his father. I do not know why the knowledge of your father matters to you.’
“What do you mean he is my father, he and my mother are what made me,” John answers in a questioning but accusatory tone.
“Your father helped make you, but he did not raise you. You are the product of those who care about and value you, not of a man you never have met. There have been few great men who have ever been raised missing part of what makes most men normal. That is what sets them apart, hardship and perseverance. Embrace who you are and be a great man.”
Standing a bit shocked John suddenly grows a smile, readjusts his stance, and lunges at Alois who seems a bit shocked but parries. For the next few minus the two duel again with John getting the upper hand one or two times before they finished for the day.
“Now that is an improvement, tomorrow we will start lesions. But remember one last thing, take control of your life and be strong.”