Day 48: Two sisters

"No, not like that!" Lucas shouted, vigorously shaking his head. "Here, let me show you."

He picked up a spare sword and took Delling's place opposite Farrien. The other pair stopped their sparring session to watch.

"Go slow," Lucas said, limbering up his shoulders. "Let's talk through it."

Farrien nodded and got into position, holding her sword diagonally in both hands, the point away from Lucas, ready to attack. Lucas took a defensive stance, with the sword held horizontally and low.

"Strike, then hold," he told her.

She swept the wooden sword in a standard, diagonally-down motion, and Lucas met the attack by raising the hilt, causing the blades to clash with a dull thwack.

"All right, now how would you proceed?" He asked.

"I could slip over the top," she replied, demonstrating the technique as Lucas had shown. She lifted the hilt of her own sword and stepped towards him, causing the point of her sword to come to a rest against Lucas' right shoulder.

"Good, what else?"

"Pommel strike, I guess."

She went back to the first position, then stepped in close, forward and to her right, twisting the sword at the same time, coming to a stop when the pommel was an inch from Lucas' unprotected left side.

"You guess?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't like it, sir."

"Why not?"

"You're stronger than me and this gives you a lot of leverage on me. You could just push through my guard and strike me in the chest."

Lucas nodded. "Correct. Always adjust your tactics to your opponent. You fight a large opponent differently than a smaller or weaker one. What else?"

"Shove and thrust?"

Again she demonstrated, sliding her blade against Lucas' until the guards locked while simultaneously tilting the sword until the point aimed directly at Lucas. This time Lucas did more than passively defend her attack, taking a step forwards and shoving back against her, pushing her back. Unbalanced, she staggered back. She lifted her sword to try and catch Lucas' counter-blow, but with her posture compromised, she could not muster the strength and the point touched her chest.

"See? Different attack, but it has the same issue. What else?"

Farrien looked thoughtful for a moment, but then shook her head. "I can't think of anything else."

"Anyone?" Lucas asked, eyeing the other students.

"Back away," Reinhold called out.

"But shouldn't I be the one who's attacking in this exercise, sir?" Farrien countered.

"There's more to attacking than always moving forwards," Lucas replied. "The fact of the matter is that the position we ended up in was unfavorable to you. You always have the option to step back and try to find a new one. No, for now, stay like this. Let's go back to your first solution, the slip over the top. Show me again."

She did as he asked, and Lucas responded in the same way, with a horizontal blocking stance.

"All right, what are my options?" he asked, looking around.

Reinhold spoke up again. "You can push forwards, sir, side-stepping her attack, sliding along the blade, then swing in an arc at her neck."

Lucas performed the move he described, but then halted halfway through the arc.

"Oh, I see," Reinhold said, frowning.

The sweeping arc would indeed hit Farrien where he'd described, but left Lucas entire body exposed, allowing her to strike him with any of half a dozen faster but equally debilitating moves.

"I do like my organs to stay inside of my body," Lucas said sardonically, but he was pleased Reinhold had spotted his mistake so quickly. "Still, just because it leaves me **** doesn't mean it's necessarily a bad move. If your opponent is unbalanced or incapable of taking advantage of the opening, this kind of large motion can be devastating. Anyone else?"

"Step back?" Iselde suggested, clearly remembering Lucas' earlier advice.

"No, that doesn't help," Delling countered. "It worked for Farrien because she was the attacker, but if Lucas steps back here, she can simply follow and nothing would change. I think you have to push in and duck underneath."

Like a puppet on a string, Lucas did as Delling suggested, shifting his weight onto his front foot and pushing forwards and upwards. That **** Farrien to bring up her own hands, breaking her leverage. Lucas followed up by taking one hand off the grip and balling his fist, then froze.

"From here, I can strike at her, or do something like this."

He stepped in even closer, grabbing her left wrist. In the same moment, he nimbly twisting around, trapping her forearm under his armpit. He continued spinning and simultaneously bent forwards, pulling her off-balance and then rolling her over his hip until she struck the ground, sword leaping from her hand.

It was not entirely fair, they hadn't been sparring, after all, but sometimes it was better to show than to tell. He crouched next to her, and she looked up at him with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"Sorry about that," he said. "You all right?"

Farrien nodded, rubbing her arm where it had hit the ground. "Yes, sir, I'm fine."

"All right then." Lucas stood, offering her a hand, which she accepted. "That's enough for one day. Good work, everyone. You've all gotten the hang of the basics in record time, so I think it's time to dive into some more advanced techniques. We'll do some more slow fights like this next time, they're great to give you a handle on what works and what doesn't."

They thanked him, gathering up their belongings before filing out of the courtyard.

With the training session behind him, and his time his own for the remainder of the day, Lucas leisurely made his way to the Fearless Hog once more. If he hurried, he'd be in time for Eldwyn's break.

It was perhaps not entirely healthy how much time he'd been spending there. More specifically: the amount of time he'd been spending there with a drink in his hand.

Maybe that was why so many bartenders didn't drink at all; easier to say 'no' all the time than to have to think about the answer every time.

The decision came so easily he almost didn't realize he'd made it: no more drinking from now on. Only in private, at home. And maybe on special occasions.

He had no doubt Audrey could look after herself and the bar, but he still felt a certain responsibility towards her and Eldwyn, and the other waitresses too of course. He wasn't a soldier any more, but he still felt his job was to protect people. He was going to be one of the owners of the bar in a couple of days, that would be where his strengths lay, at least until he got a handle on things, and it wouldn't do to be addled all the time.

Audrey had kept him up to date on the proceedings. Heor had agreed to sell the bar, and his notary was just writing up the contracts. The price had been a little higher than he and Audrey expected, but with a mortgage from the bank, and a practical certainty of very good profits, it was nothing they couldn't handle.

He moved out of the way to let a departing patron pass, then strode into the bar. He spotted Eldwyn immediately, but hadn't expected to see the person she was talking to there: Kythril. They were talking affably, animatedly, even. Eldwyn seemed to be doing most of the talking, while Kythril appeared to be listening in rapt attention.