“Yeah, I know we breathe all the time, but sometimes we stop breathing or stop breathing correctly. Ever get startled and discover you were holding your breath? Ever find yourself panting when you’re really nervous or frightened? Some people can actually pass out that way. Trust me, in a real fight, you’ll be scared and unless you train, you’ll end up breathing shallow or not at all. Less air saps your body of strength and makes it hard to think clearly. You’ll become tired and slow, something you can’t afford in a battle.”
“So, how do you breathe correctly?” Theron asked, still with a hint of sarcasm.
“You have to breathe deep and slow even before you need to, before your exertion demands it. At first, it will be a conscious thought and it will feel counterproductive, even distracting. But over time, it will become second nature. It is also good to keep in mind that you have the most strength for a blow on an exhale. It adds power and focus to a stroke. Sometimes actually yelling or shouting helps. I will want you to do that during your training. I want to hear it when you swing. Later on, it won’t be necessary although sometimes it can help to startle your opponent.” Hadrian paused briefly and Theron noted the faint hint of a smile tug at his lips.
“Next comes balance, and that means more than not falling down. Sadly, humans only have two feet. That’s only two points to support us. Pick up one and you are vulnerable. This is why you want to keep your feet on the ground. That doesn’t mean you don’t move, but when you move, you slide your feet rather than pick them up. You need to keep your weight forward, your knees slightly bent, and your balance on the balls of your feet rather than in your heels. Drawing your feet together reduces your two points of balance to one, so keep your feet apart, about shoulder width.
“Timing is, of course, very important. I warn you now, you’ll be terrible at it to begin with, as timing improves with experience. You saw from swinging at me yesterday how frustrating it can be to swing and miss. Timing is what allows you to hit, and not only to hit, but also to do damage. You will learn to see patterns in movement. You’ll know when to expect an opening, or a weakness. Frequently you can anticipate an attack by watching how your opponent moves—the placement of his feet, the look in his eyes, a telltale drop of his shoulder, the tightening of a muscle.”
“But I’m not fighting a person,” Theron interrupted. “And I don’t even think it has a shoulder.”
“Even animals give signs about what they will do. They hunch up, twist and shift their weight just like people. Such signals do not have to be obvious. Most skilled fighters will try to mask their intentions, or worse, purposely try to mislead you. They want to confuse your timing, throw you off balance, and make an opening for themselves. Of course, this is exactly what you want to do to them. If done well, your opponent sees the false move, but not the attack. The result—in your case—is a headless flying serpent.
“The last thing to learn is the hardest. It can’t be taught. It can barely be explained. It is the idea that the fight—the battle—doesn’t really exist so much in your hands or your feet, but in your head. The real struggle is in your own mind. You must know you are going to win before you start the fight. You have to see it, smell it, and believe it utterly. It is a form of confidence, but you must guard against over confidence. You have to be flexible—able to adapt in an instant and never allow yourself to give up. Without this, nothing else is possible. Unless you believe you will win, fear and hesitation will hold you down while your opponent kills you. Now, let’s get a couple of stout sticks and we will see how well you listened.”
———
That night they lit the bonfires once more and everyone stayed sheltered in either the manor house or the cellar of the smokehouse. Royce and Hadrian were the only two moving outside and even they remained in the shelter of the smokehouse doorway watching the night by bonfire light.
“How’s Thrace doing?” Royce asked, his eyes on the sky.
“Great considering the fact that she broke a tree branch with her head,” Hadrian replied as he sat on a barrel cleaning a mutton bone of the last of its meat. “I even heard she was walking around asking to help with dinner.” He shook his head and smiled. “That girl, she’s something that’s for sure. Hard to imagine it seeing her under that arch in Colnora, but she’s tough. The real change is in the old man. Theron says they plan on leaving in a day or two, as soon as Thrace can travel.”
“So we’re out of a job?” Royce feigned disappointment.
“Why, were you getting close?” Hadrian asked, throwing the bone away and wiping his hands on his vest.
“Nope. I can’t figure out how to reach it.”
“Tunnel?”
“I thought of that, but I’ve been over every inch of the forest and the rocks and there’s nothing; no cave, no sunken dell, nothing that could be confused with a tunnel. I’m completely stumped on this.”
“What about Esra? Doesn’t the wizard have any ideas?”
“Maybe, but he’s being elusive. He’s hiding something. He wants access to that tower, but won’t say why and avoids direct questions about it. Something happened to him here years ago. Something he doesn’t want to talk about. But maybe I can get him to open up more tomorrow if I let him know the Woods no longer require our services and that there is no reason for me to try anymore.”
“Don’t you think he’ll see through that?”
“See through what?” Royce asked. “Honestly, I’m giving it one more try tomorrow and if I can’t find something, I say we head out with Theron and Thrace.”
Hadrian was silent.
“What?” Royce asked.
“I just hate to run out on them like that. I mean they’re starting to turn it around now.”
“You do this all the time. You get these lost causes under your skin—”
“I’d like to remind you, coming here was your idea. I was in the process of declining the job, remember?”
“Well, a lot can happen in a day; maybe I’ll find a way in tomorrow.”
Hadrian stepped to the doorway and peered out. “The forest is loud. Looks like our friend isn’t coming to visit us tonight. Maybe Esrahaddon’s flames singed its wings and it’s dining on venison this evening.”
“The fires won’t keep it away forever,” Royce said. “According to the wizard, the fires didn’t hurt it; they just confused it—bright lights do that, apparently. Only the sword in the tower can actually harm it. It will be back.”
“Then we’d best take advantage of its absence and get a good night’s sleep.”
Hadrian went down into the cellar, leaving Royce staring out at the night sky and the gathering clouds that crossed the stars. The wind was still up, whipping the trees and battering the fires. He could almost smell it; change was in the air and it was blowing their way.