Theft Of Swords: The Riyria Revelations

“Are you kidding? I don’t really see the point in a lesson if you’re both leaving tomorrow.”

 

 

“You have something else to do? Besides, the road is a dangerous place and it wouldn’t hurt to know a few more tricks, or is this your way of saying you want money now?”

 

“No.” Hadrian waved his hand at the farmer. “Grab the sticks.”

 

By noon, the sun was hot and Hadrian had worked up a sweat sparring with Theron, who was showing real improvement. Magnus sat on an overturned well bucket, watching the two with interest. Hadrian explained proper form, how to obtain penetrating thrusts and grips, which was hard using only rake handles.

 

“If you hold the sword with both hands, you lose versatility and reach, but you gain tremendous power. A good fighter knows when to switch from two hands to one and vice versa. If you are defending against someone with longer reach, you’d better be using one hand, but if you need to drive your sword deep through heavy armor—assuming you aren’t holding a shield in your off hand—grip the pommel with both palms and thrust. Remember to yell as you do, like I taught you before. Then drive home the blow using all your power. A solid breastplate won’t stop a sword thrust. They aren’t designed to. Armor prevents a swing or a slice, and can deflect the point of a thrust; that’s why professional fighters wear smooth, unadorned armor. You always see these princes and dukes with all their fancy gilded breastplates and light thin metal heavily engraved—it’s like walking around in a death trap. Of course, they don’t really fight. They have knights do that for them. They just walk around and look pretty. So the idea is when you thrust, you aim for a crease, groove, or seam in the armor, something that will catch and hold the tip. The armpits are excellent targets, or up under the nose guard. Drive a four-foot sword up under a nose guard and you don’t have to worry much about a counterattack.”

 

“How can you teach that poor fellow anything without swords?”

 

They both turned to see Mauvin Pickering walking toward them in his simple blue tunic. Gone was the dapper lord of Galilin; instead, he looked much like the boy Hadrian had first seen at Drondil Fields. In his hands, he carried two swords, and slung over his back were two small round shields.

 

“I saw you from the walls and thought you might like to borrow these,” he said, handing a sword and shield to Theron, who accepted them awkwardly. “They are my and Fanen’s spares.”

 

Theron eyed the young man suspiciously, then looked to Hadrian.

 

“Go ahead,” Hadrian told him, wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. “He’s right. You should know the feel of the real thing.”

 

When Theron appeared confused by how to hold the shield, Mauvin began instructing him, showing the farmer where his arm slipped through the leather straps.

 

“See, Hadrian? It helps to actually teach your pupil how to put on a real shield; unless, of course, you expect he’ll be spending all of his time warring against maple trees. Where are your weapons, anyway?”

 

Hadrian looked sheepish. “I lost them.”

 

“Don’t you carry enough for five people?”

 

“I’ve had a bad week.”

 

“And who might you be?” Mauvin asked, looking at the dwarf.

 

Hadrian started to answer, then stopped himself. Alric had likely told Mauvin all about the dwarf who had murdered his father. “Him? He’s … nobody.”

 

“Okay …” Mauvin laughed, raising his hand and waving. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Nobody.” He then went and sat on the edge of the well, where he folded his arms across his chest. “Go on. Show me what he’s taught you.”

 

Hadrian and Theron returned to fighting, but slower now, as the sharp swords made Theron nervous. He soon became frustrated and turned to Mauvin, scowling.

 

“You any good with these things?”

 

The young man raised an eyebrow in surprise. “My dear sir, weren’t we already introduced? My name is Mauvin Pickering.” He grinned.

 

Theron narrowed his eyes in confusion, glanced at Hadrian, who said nothing, then faced the boy once more. “I asked if you knew how to use a sword, son, not your name.”

 

“But—I—oh, never mind. Yes, I have been trained in the use of a sword.”

 

“Well, I spent all my life on farms, or in villages not much bigger than this one, and I’ve never had much chance to see fellas beating each other with blades. It might help if’n I was to see what I’m s’posed to be doing. You know, all proper like.”

 

“You want a demonstration?”

 

Theron nodded. “I have no way of knowing if Hadrian here even knows what he’s doing.”

 

“All right,” Mauvin said, flexing his fingers and shaking his hands as he walked forward. He had a bright smile on his face, as if Theron had just invited him to play his favorite game.

 

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