Steel and Bone

Chapter 2: Sharp Tongues and Dull Swords

"I'm not sure if you're holding that sword limp to insult me or because your father didn't care for you enough as a child to teach you how to get a proper grip," spat Braver Mason.

Lex wasn't sure why Braver was saying that. They were both sweating up a mighty stench as they sparred in front of the High Lord's castle. Braver had been able to keep Lex on the defense for their entire sparring match, but only because the knight attacked with such blind, frantic might that  Lex had no option but to defend.

To Braver's credit, that meant that despite the fact his swings were sloppy and predictable, Lex was never able to take advantage of the openings they created without risking a smarting blow from his opponent's training sword.

Above them the sun beat down with a relentless heat. Even the slightest breeze was sweet relief from its radiant fury, but today there were few breezes. To add to the sun's heat, last night a vicious storm had blown through the lowlands where the High Lord's castle was situated. The wind had howled against the shutters, dashing them against the walls of the keep over and over again while the rain pounded against the window.

It had been a great environment for sleeping, but now that Lex was sparring with Braver outside the following morning, every swing of his sword felt like he was cutting through a thick soup.

Lex braced himself as Braver hurled himself into a headfirst charge.

Instead of preparing a counterattack or dodging the charge, Lex decided to go low.

Braver's footfalls were heavy. The man was wearing heavy training armor, which consisted of a heavy quilt-like garment with layers of dried leather in between layers of cloth. It was a sort of mock gambesson meant to simulate the heaviness of real armor.

Lex ducked to the left, getting just out of line of the swing, then brought his training sword into the left shin-piece of Braver's armor, spinning the blade in his hand so he held it in a reverse grip and throwing his weight behind the strike. It connected with a hefty thock. Braver didn't kneel, but even so Lex knew the blow would slow the knight down and stop him from trying a stupid charge like that again.

Braver let out what Lex at first thought was a yowl of pain. Lex sprinted until he was out of the reach of the claymore and prepared a snide remark about how he had already one the match, but to his dismay, Braver was still on his feet, not even casting a glance at the shin Lex had slammed into. The yowl of pained turned into a howl of dark laughter that betrayed an undercurrent of pain.

"That the best you can do?" Braver shouted through clenched teeth.

"At this point I'm scared of actually hurting you old timer. Anything I do to you is gonna heal a lot slower than any wound you get on me."

"Yeah but you'd have to hit me with something that actually hurts for me to be scared of that," Braver hissed.

The two kept at it until the sun sank beneath the horizon and the cloudless sky was stained a deep purple, the soft yellow glow of the sun sitting at the edge of the horizon. The rest of the day was more of the same; Braver hurling insult after insult at Lex while failing to land more than a glancing blow, and Lex never managing to elicit a surrender or even so much as a discernible cry of pain. As the two parted ways to wash up for dinner, Lex cast a glance at his sparring partner.

"I don't get you Braver," he shook his head, "I know some of those blows struck true, there's no way you didn't feel like giving up halfway through that sparring session."

Braver kept pace with Lex and fixed the mercenary with a meaningful look.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. Doesn't much matter, because I managed to keep pace with you the entire time."

Lex cast a sideways glance at Braver. "You hardly kept pace with me," he snorted, "I landed all the blows I meant to, at best you managed to hit the side of my boot."

"Neither of us yielded though," Braver said, giving Lex a meaningful look. "In the eyes of any instructor worth their salt, we're dead even after today's match,

That was when it dawned on Lex.

Braver was an abrasive person that couldn't shut his mouth even when it was good for him, but that was part of Braver's strategy. If you only ever showed an enemy your pride, boasting even after they landed a smarting blow, they would never feel like they had won.

As the truth came apparent to Lex, he realized now that Braver's facade had been as much of an obstacle as the brutal heat of the day. The energy he would get off of landing a hit would build momentum, turning his combat style into a sort of lethal dance to the yowls of his defeated enemies.

When Braver had stood strong, managing to keep at least a grimace on his face even when Lex had connected with a thrust into the knight's abdomen that almost knocked Braver clean over, the blow felt twice as exhausting because it had felt like Lex expended his energy for nothing.

"That's a pretty clever tactic," Lex nodded. "Still got you run out of the town you were supposed to be protecting, but it's a clever tactic nonetheless.

Lex caught a glimpse of an honest smile on Braver's face as he finished voicing his thoughts. When Braver wasn't sneering, cackling, or uttering some snide remark, he didn't look half as hideous as everyone else said he did.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the honest smile soured into a half-smirk half-snarl that made Lex want to knock the knight's teeth out. "You just swing a sword with all the strength of a fart in the wind."

Lex shook his head, but he knew on some level he had connected to Braver.

Despite being one of the most decorated mercenaries in the land, Lex realized he had a lot to learn, even from people like the infamous Braver Mason.

As he washed up for the night, Lex tried to prepare himself for his next sparring session. He'd be squaring off against the disowned heiress of House Fairfax, Miriam the Witch. He'd never sparred against a caster before, and was both scared and excited for the new challenges it would pose.