Chapter 10
Matching Aemere’s strokes took everything Augni had, and he'd begun to regret offering to spar. But watching her practice had started to feel awkward, and not knowing why they were in Thurskyl left him with little to do but wait.
He found it difficult to relax. Being on the lowlands of the Steelsky mountain range, the land surrounding Thurskyl was mainly given over to livestock farming, which provided much of the city's trade. The slaughterhouses may be outside the city proper, but their smell pervaded the city. Most locals didn't seem to notice. Aemere hadn't said anything, and he couldn’t tell whether it affected her.
His thoughts focussed as her sword lanced in and he maintained a defensive stance, moving to block as he looked for an opening. She didn't leave many. When he did chance the occasional strike she swayed with the blows, which glanced easily off her practice armour. He wasn't using glyphs, but understood how even skilled fighters with them would have trouble against her. She seemed as good as she believed herself. Or he was worse than he thought.
A block kept her blade's momentum going off to her left, and he spun to maintain his blade's momentum, coming round to thrust at her exposed flank. The blunted exercise sword scraped along her armour as she reversed her twist. Grabbing him under the shoulder, she used his momentum to send him rolling.
He managed to go with the roll for a couple of turns till he found his feet, at least mitigating some of the embarrassment from his fall.
She'd already turned to the well, pulling up a pail of water. They practiced in the courtyard of their inn. It was quiet, and a reasonably wide space.
Joining her he took the offered cup after she'd drunk, and watched from the corner of his eye as he took a long draw. While she masked her discomfort out of habit, he noted the tightening of her eyes and the faint pursing of her lips.
'The fight?' he asked.
'Partly. I hate waiting.' Thurkyl had a long list of contenders, with only so many fights a day. She had to wait a couple of days before her bout. Her constant practicing seemed a nervous reaction to the anticipation, and he worried she'd wear herself out.
'Do you want to try strategizing?' asked Augni. 'We know your opponent.'
'I've already done so, thank you.'
He couldn't tell whether she was angry, or didn't trust him enough to share. 'Is it the job?'
'Which job would that be?'
'Yes, it can be irritating, not knowing what you're expected to do.'
'Yet you do so?'
He shrugged. 'I've gotten used to it.'
'Letting your life be directed for you?'
'Said that way, it sounds kind of odd.'
'How else could it be said?'
He frowned. It wasn't as though he hadn't considered his choices before. He doubted his answers would satisfy her. 'We have the same goals. And I trust him. I suppose that's what it comes down to. It's a matter of knowing and trusting each other.' He couldn't help thinking of Aemere meeting Thjorn. 'The trusting could take time, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to kill him within minutes of meeting.'
She raised an eyebrow. Without otherwise responding, she stood and resumed her exercises. He didn't offer to spar again. He'd give her space. Yes, that was a good excuse.
He started to see elements of strategy in her movements, and how she intended to counter her opponent's glyphs. It should work, and he was confident enough in her skill to expect a win. What they knew of her opponent was also promising, and if anything she might be over-prepared. Still, better over-prepared than under-prepared.
'You need to use your opponent's shield against him,' said a too familiar voice from behind, and Augni couldn't help sighing. He was in that kind of mood.
Aemere halted mid-thrust – poise perfect – and glanced at Thjorn. 'My opponent doesn’t use a shield.'
'Aemere,' said Augni. 'This is Thjorn.'
Grounding the sword, she turned to regard him appraisingly.
Thjorn did likewise, approaching and circling her.
She didn't turn with him, her eyes instead settling on Augni with irritation. He could only shrug an apology.
'So you're the best he could find,' said Thjorn.
'If you're unsatisfied I'd be happy to take my leave,' said Aemere.
Thjorn frowned. 'Why would I be unsatisfied? If Augni thinks you're the best I have no doubt you are.'
Confusion creased her face, hastily suppressed. Not that Thjorn appeared to notice, taking a seat on the edge of the well near Augni.
'What glyphs do you use, and what do you need?' asked Thjorn.
'None,' said Aemere.
'Excuse me?' asked Thjorn.
'She dislikes using glyphs,' said Augni.
Thjorn regarded her askance. 'Why?'
'They lack honour,' said Aemere.
'Why?' asked Thjorn.
'What?' said Aemere.
'What's honour got to do with fighting?' asked Thjorn. 'Why do you dislike glyphs? And it's not because they're dishonourable. Glyphs are tools, just like a sword, or a suit of armour.'
Augni had to resist interfering. If Thjorn was determined to test her reactions then he’d do so regardless. If it seemed likely to come to blows he’d intercede, otherwise it risked making things worse.
'They give too great an advantage to those who have them,' said Aemere, as though patiently explaining something to a child.
'Steel gives an advantage over boiled leather, yet there's nothing in the tournament rules preventing it. How are glyphs any different?'
'They seek to replace skill.'
'Barring a serious disparity in skill levels, steel versus leather would make more of a difference.'
'A decent set of steel is more affordable than most Society glyphs,' said Aemere.
Seeing Aemere's hands tensing around her hilt in irritation, Augni tried to intercede. 'I don't suppose...'
'Neither do I,' said Thjorn. 'And disliking glyphs because they're dishonourable isn't an answer, or you'd try and match your opponent's equipment for a fight, to make things even.'
'She did...' Augni tried again. Only to be cut off; again.
'If she won't use glyphs against an opponent with glyphs, she's not trying to get an even match which'll be decided on skill, she's trying to prove her skills superior to glyphs. So I ask again, why don't you use glyphs?'
'Why do you have to do this?' asked Augni, his exasperation getting the better of him.
'Do what?' asked Thjorn.
'You can't just say hello, pleased to meet you, let's get to know one another, and work up to asking rude questions. No, you've got to just dive right in, give her a baseline of irritation at you from the start.' He knew it was to test her reaction to how Thjorn tended to get when focused. It could be more than a little irritating if you weren’t used to it – or even if you were – but there was no need to test her straight off.
'Have you finished?' asked Thjorn.
'No.'
'Well can it at least wait? I need to know why she hates glyphs. We use glyphs. Will it be a problem, or is she only hostile to using them in the Tournament.'
'They killed my father,' said Aemere, silencing them. 'He fought in the Tournaments. He was a champion. Then the Society pushed to get glyphs allowed, and of course they got their way. The fights changed. They were no longer about skill. My father was an honourable man, he held out on using them. But he could hardly stem the flow by himself, and eventually skill wasn't enough.'
'I'm sorry,' said Augni.
'Okay,' said Thjorn.
'What?' asked Aemere.
'I said okay. I'm satisfied your reasons are ones I can work with. So, we should start training for your new opponent.'
'Well as long as you’re satisfied,' said Aemere, irritation showing in her tone.
'Wait,' said Augni. 'What new opponent? She's supposed to be facing Froddrek in two...'
'I've changed it.'
'Changed it?' said Aemere, more stunned than angry. 'How could yo
u change...?'
'Simply. A couple of contenders withdraw, so their opponents get rearranged to fight each other. You're on in the morning, and then we can be on our way.'
Aemere glanced at Augni with a bemusement he found all too familiar.
'Welcome to the team,' was all he could offer. 'Try not to kill him.'