Sword-Maker(80)

“But I knew I would lose. I just thought—” He sighed. “I just thought that if I was seen in a circle with the Sandtiger, it might help my name a little. I knew I would lose, of course, but I’d lose to the Sandtiger. Everyone loses to you.”

“And you’ll lose in practice, too,” I pointed out. “But at least you’ll learn a little something.” And I’d get my conditioning back. “So, shall we begin tomorrow?”

Slowly, Nabir nodded. “What about—” He broke it off, thought about it, began again. “What about the woman? Is she truly a sword-dancer?”

I grinned. “If you’re concerned your reputation—and pride—has been dealt too harsh a blow to survive, I wouldn’t worry about it. Del’s beaten me.”

“You?”

“Only in practice, of course.” I rose, put down his cup. “Thanks for the aqivi. I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

He pushed himself to his feet. “Sandtiger—”

“Oh, yes—you won’t be needing that.” I pointed to his blade. “We’ll be using wooden swords.”

He blinked. “Wooden? But I haven’t sparred with wooden blades since my first year.”

“I know; me neither—and it’s a considerably longer time for me than for you.” I shrugged. “I’d hate to get carried away and cut your belly open. At least with a wooden sword, all I can do is break a few ribs.” I grinned at his stricken expression. “Now go find yourself a woman—maybe that pretty little cantina girl across the way who’s been eyeing you so much—and forget about Northern baschas.”

“She’s beautiful,” he blurted.

I didn’t need to ask which woman he meant; I’ve seen that expression before. “First lesson,” I said. “Forget about such things. When you’re in the circle, even against a woman—” I paused, “—even a woman like Del—you have to think about the dance. And only about the dance.”

“It isn’t a woman’s place to be in a circle.”

“Maybe not.” I didn’t feel like giving him any of Del’s arguments against that line of reasoning; it would take too long. “But if you meet one there, are you willing to die just because she has breasts instead of gehetties?”

“Gehett—” He figured it out. It was enough to startle him into thinking about it. After a moment he nodded. “I will try not to think of the woman. I will try not to see the woman. I will try to do as you.”

Hoolies, I wish when I was in the circle with Del I could only see the woman. Like Abbu Bensir. Like Nabir. Like all the other men who’d seen—or met—her in a circle.

Because then I’d forget the blood.





Eight




We met out in the open, away from the center of town. I wanted privacy for the boy’s sake, and for my own; one needn’t tell the competition one isn’t what one should be.

“Draw the circle,” I told him.

Nabir’s dark eyes widened. “Me?”

I nodded solemnly. “The privilege of rank,” I said, “is that you can have others do tedious things like digging in the dirt.”

He waved a hand. “No, no—I only meant … I thought you would do it to make certain it was right.”

“It’s not too terribly difficult to draw a circle,” I said dryly. “I think a second-level sword-dancer can manage it.”

Which reminded him, as I meant it to, that he had some status of his own; as a matter of fact, if there was a first-level apprentice here, Nabir could assign the task to him.

But there wasn’t. So Nabir took wooden sword in hand and asked me what size circle I wanted.

“Practice,” I answered. “No sense in dancing our legs off yet.” Especially since even a practice circle seven paces in diameter would test me. “We’ll move to a sparring circle next, and then a full-fledged dancing circle once I think you’re ready.”

He opened his mouth. “But—” And broke it off. So, his discipline wasn’t completely eroded.

“I know,” I said. “You were going to tell me you danced in a dancing circle yesterday. So? You lost. We’ll do it my way.”

Nabir flushed, nodded and proceeded to draw a meticulous circle in the dirt. He knew the dimensions as well as I—seven long paces in diameter for a practice circle, ten for sparring, fifteen for a full-fledged dancing circle—and had a steady hand, which meant his line didn’t waver very much. It’s one of the things a first-year apprentice learns: how to draw a clean circle. It helps to fix the confines in the mind, which is where the true circle must exist if an apprentice is to succeed. It sounds easy. It isn’t.