The Unfortunate, стр. 17

put forth by Gildas’ men had eventually begun to wane. The practices, nevertheless, had to continue, and it would be Awiergan’s responsibility to see it did. He remained in the shade of the porch-like area at the front of the barracks where the heat was slightly bearable, and he continued to debate how he would announce his authority. He studied the men as if he were evaluating their worth. There was nothing about the action in the training yard that appeared unusual. None of the other fighters, however, was aware of Gildas’ absence. They all expected their master was watching and would likely appear soon. Several additional moments passed before Awiergan’s thoughts were interrupted by approaching footsteps. He had to neither alter his vision nor survey the men in the yard to know who it was, and his senses were proven true when the individual spoke.

“You are late.”

“Yes, Atelic, you are extremely observant.” Awiergan glanced at his friend and added, “Perhaps you should apply that trait, being more aware, to your fighting. You may find yourself victorious more often.”

“You may be the current champion,” Atelic countered with a spat. “But I could prove your better anytime!”

“Perhaps the match should be arranged. I could speak with Gildas. Think of it. Come all. Come all to see a champion’s possible fall!”

Atelic again spat. “You think that would ever occur? As you reminded, not that it could have been forgotten, you are the champion. You are worth more than most of the men in this academy combined. Gildas would never place a proven champion in a situation with an uncertain outcome. He would never risk losing that type of an asset. He would never assign two of his best fighters to battle one another.”

Awiergan knew his friend’s last statement was true, but he was less persuaded about Atelic’s claim regarding uncertain outcomes. The champion felt he understood Gildas’ motives better than Atelic, and as his friend continued to speak, Awiergan recalled the words exchanged that morning. If an untrained criminal can best one of my fighters, I would deem that he has already proven his worth. That is enough to earn him a permanent spot in my academy. As I stated, I never lose. Instead of repeating the explanation Gildas had provided, Awiergan furthered the conversation with an inquiry of his own. “Then how did I become champion?” When his friend did not reply, he added, “Not even five years ago, I, having proven myself second best, was matched against the champion, and did I not prevail?”

The questions had been valid, but rather than acknowledge his friend, Atelic changed the subject, something he often did when he had had his claims proven false. “In speaking of Gildas, where is our master?”

“In the capital,” Awiergan explained, and once finished recapping the finer details of their master’s business, he added, “Therefore I shall require your assistance.”

“My assistance? Since when do you need my assistance with anything, champion? Atelic snickered, but he stopped when Awiergan pushed him, nearly causing him to slip from the porch-like area.

“I shall need your help with the training.”

“You do not need any help!” Atelic exclaimed as a method of encouragement. “And I am not attempting to avoid work. You are a born leader. The men respect you, and they will listen. Why do you think Gildas chose you for this duty?”

Gildas’ words returned to the champion. I trust you … beyond all others.

“I do not need help to lead,” Awiergan finally clarified, “Only with the training. I may be the champion, but I am only one man.”

“What do you need me to do first?”

“See that every man is properly armed and prepared for the day.”

The other fighter nodded and strolled toward the yard in an overconfident manner.

Awiergan watched his friend and chuckled to himself. Nothing except death, and even that may not be enough, will ever cause Atelic’s excessive pride to cease. Having concluded his thoughts, the champion departed the porch of the barracks, retrieved a wooden sword and shield, and walked to the center of the yard. He exhaled deeply and waited momentarily before announcing his first order. “Cease and attend!”

As if it had been their master who had spoken, the fighters, recruits and veterans alike, stopped what they were doing and looked to the center of the yard.

Thinking one of the men would question his actions, he waited, but when Awiergan received only silence, he was quick to add, “Matters of importance have called our master to the capital, but he has requested our training continue as usual. As champion I maintain the responsibility to see to these orders.” He again paused and waited for some type of rebuttal, but no response was offered. Not even a disapproving sigh was heard. “I want you to form pairs, one seasoned fighter and one recruit. The veterans will test your partners. When he falters, instruct him.” Awiergan paused a second time, and he surveyed the men as he had earlier, as if he were evaluating their worth. “Assume your positions.”

It did not take long for the men to be paired, and that was followed shortly by irregular clunks and thuds as wooden training swords and shields impacted.

Despite the numerous conflicts that had erupted and had given life to the yard, Awiergan noticed one of the recruits was still without a partner, the thief with whom he and Atelic had spoken a few nights prior. The man had his back turned, and he did not alter his stance until Awiergan made his presence known. “You will not learn the art of fighting by standing idle.”

The man flinched slightly before turning. “Yes, but I was thinking.”

“What are your concerns?”

“No concerns. Only thoughts.”

“About?”

“My past actions and what I shall do with this new life.”

“You shall fight and prove you deserve to be called a skilled combatant, but you must first train. Now assume position.” Awiergan adjusted his stance, placed his left arm through the leather straps on the rear side of the shield, and