“The Goddess has seen fit to return me to the role of umqondisi, a role I left more than twenty cycles ago,” Jayyed said, punctuating the last word by slamming the pommel of his sword-shaped stick into Uduak’s chest, returning him to the ground.
Jayyed stepped away from him and waved the next initiate forward. It was Chinedu, Tau’s coughing barracks neighbor. Chinedu glanced at Uduak, drew his practice sword, and went for Jayyed.
“All my life,” Jayyed said, knocking aside Chinedu’s attack and bashing a fist into his face, “I’ve believed that we do not train optimally.”
Chinedu reeled, blood oozing from both nostrils. He rasped a hairy forearm across his face, dragging the blood away from his mouth and onto his chin. That done, he came forward, his sword up and knees bent for quick movement. It made no difference. Jayyed was on him and Chinedu was disarmed and put into the dirt.
Jayyed waved him and Uduak back to the line. “The Ihashe can be better,” Jayyed said, calling Hadith forward.
Hadith already had his sword out and had found a shield. He smirked at Jayyed’s wooden weapon, keeping the shield between him and the umqondisi. Jayyed jabbed and Hadith blocked.
“The testing exposed you to a faster pace of combat,” Jayyed said, sending three strikes at Hadith. Hadith blocked the first two, but the third slipped between sword and shield, catching him in the guts, doubling him over. “That’s why we cover the practice blades with linen.”
Jayyed swung overhead and cracked Hadith over his exposed back. Hadith went down. “It makes you safer, so you can go harder, and that brings the fight closer to reality.”
Without waiting to be called, the next man ran over, hoping to take Jayyed unaware. Jayyed sidestepped and struck the runner across the temple, knocking him out on his feet.
“You will all use wooden swords.” Jayyed waved Tau over. “Our training will mimic real combat as closely as possible.”
Tau drew his practice sword with his off hand. It was shaking. He had no practice fighting left-handed. Still, he refused to be embarrassed by someone twice his age. He stalked Jayyed, making sure to keep out of striking range.
“If you want to be a great fighter,” Jayyed said, flicking his sword at Tau’s broken wrist and causing Tau to jerk back, almost dropping his weapon without being touched, “you must practice fighting.”
Jayyed closed the distance with Tau and they crossed swords, once, twice, three times. “Theoretical forms,” Jayyed said, as Tau saw his chance, “and cautious sparring with bronze swords slows learning and advancement.”
Tau changed levels, lunging for Jayyed’s chest.
“We do not have time for slow.”
Tau was midlunge when he felt his thrust being turned. Jayyed had his wooden sword whirling around Tau’s blade, and with a flick of his wrist, Tau was disarmed.
“The Chosen do not have time for slow.” Jayyed reached over Tau’s lowered body, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and yanked him forward. Tau tripped, his lead foot hitting Jayyed’s outstretched leg, and he went down.
“Too slow and you’re dead.” Jayyed was standing over Tau. “Too slow and we’re all dead.”
Jayyed paced, scanning the scale for his next victim. “We fight an enemy that outnumbers us many times over,” he said, waving an initiate over. “Every one of us must be worth multiples of them.” As he spoke, he ducked an energetic swing and shouldered his new opponent away.
Without finishing the initiate, he waved the next one forward. It was two on one. The men were smart; they spread out. Jayyed feinted at the first man, backing him off, and then he slapped the flat of his wooden sword into the groin of the second.
The first man bellowed and swung hard enough to break bones. Jayyed bent out of the way like wind blown grass, and when the initiate’s blade passed him by, he hammered his sword against the man’s legs. Jayyed’s sword snapped in half as it swept the initiate from his feet.
“The wood on Xidda is horrible,” he said. “These weapons are expensive to make. But lives cost more. Great fighters are worth more than expensive wood.”
Jayyed waved two others forward, so he would face three. He lifted his empty sword hand to Aqondise Anan and Anan drew his own wooden sword, tossing it. Jayyed snatched the stick out of the air and used it to club one of the newcomers. “You will not focus on forms or dance with each other while holding bronze.”
There were two men left. Jayyed hit one on the upper arm, making the initiate drop his blade. The other man attacked and Jayyed darted in, dashing an elbow against the side of that one’s head before disengaging and swatting him across the neck with the wooden sword. The attack would have killed the man, had the blades been real.
“You will learn to fight by fighting.” Jayyed whirled and faced the man he had disarmed earlier. The initiate had been in the process of bending down to retrieve his weapon. Feeling Jayyed’s blade resting on his forehead, he froze.
“You will be faster, more experienced, and more brutal than all who would oppose you.” Jayyed sheathed the wooden sword and stepped back.
There were a few groans from the downed men, but they were drowned out by the cheers from the rest of the scale. Tau was surprised to find himself cheering with the rest.
“Enough, enough,” said Jayyed. “Get water. I’ll see you back here in half a sun’s span. We begin in earnest.”
Anan called for the men to form lines. Hadith had to wake the man Jayyed had knocked unconscious. The man was shaky on his feet and Uduak helped carry him back to the line.
“Take your leave,” Jayyed told the scale, and the men made for the water buckets or mess hall, talking to one another in voices that were half-hushed but eager.
“Common Solarin, hold,” Jayyed ordered.
MOMENTS
You don’t need water,” Jayyed said.
“I don’t, nkosi?” Tau asked.
“‘Umqondisi’ will do. I’m no Noble.” Jayyed walked deeper onto the training ground and Tau followed. For a few breaths, they moved in silence. Tau watched the other scales go about their business, noticing how familiar they looked, practicing forms, skirmishing with dulled blades of bronze, swinging at a fraction of true combat speed, careful not to injure one another. Already, Tau was seeing training with fresh eyes.
“What do you want from the isikolo?” Jayyed asked.
“I want to defend the Omehi from the hedeni.”
“Of course you do.”
Tau considered what else he should… what else he was willing to tell Jayyed. “I need to be one of the greatest fighters alive. I’m willing to work. I will—”
Jayyed laughed. Tau stiffened.
“Easy,” Jayyed told him. “I’m impressed is all. In fact, I remember wanting much the same thing. But what about Nobles?”
“What of them?”
“Nobles are bigger, stronger, and faster than Lessers.”
“They’re still men.”
Jayyed smiled. “Men born with natural advantages for fighting.”
Tau felt his blood go hot as he recalled the day of his father’s death. “I was a match for Jabari Onai,” he said.
Jayyed gave him a look, one eyebrow raised.