Chapter 6: De Sanguis, Ferro, et Cor Tuum

I stood in the midst of a cacophony of sounds and impressions. The practice yard of The Abbey was awash with motion and energy. In the far corner, the three youngest novices were wrestling, learning which of the myriad of styles, that blended into The Peace of All, would best become the foundation blocks of their own unique form. Their exuberance tempered only by the knowledge that, one day, the simple forms they now practiced may very likely save their lives.

I smiled as I watched Veritas instruct them, tempering their youthful abandon, slowly, into something that would hopefully bring a measure of peace to the lives of people not yet even born. I watched with a sense of pride at their youthful determination, knowing that, perhaps, one day they may become the beacon of hope that we, as Justice Bringers, aspire to be. I smiled as I saw them begin to grasp the importance of one man, or woman, standing for what should be. Rather than kneeling and accepting what is.

In the opposite corner of the yard, my three charges, Bram, Anna, and Erik worked through a grueling routine that Veritas and I had created. We called it The Way. It was a series of basic strikes, and defenses. The only difference between sparring and The Way was that, they were blindfolded. It was designed to build balance, and muscle memory. To make the users so attuned to the motions, that reaction was more instinct than though.

I had purposely placed them closer than they would normally have been standing. I wanted them to feel one another as they moved from one form set to another. I looked on and smiled as I watched Anna grasp the gist of my plan. Slowly, with the grace of a hunting cat, she began to glide through her form, as she felt, and anticipated Bram’s next move right beside her. She dipped her shoulders, and lunged through an opening presented as Bram spun through a backfist. And as his foot made contact with the ground, they found themselves back to back, facing opposite directions. Their hands in perfect balance, their breathing even, and controlled. This was what I had hoped would happen. I smiled slightly, as the pair began to work with each other, their motions an almost perfect compliment of each other.

Strikes, and blocks, dodges and feints. Their moves flowed and ebbed in unison with one another in an impressive display for a first time. And I felt a welling up of pride, as I saw, for the first time, two of my students realize, even if they didn’t consciously know it, that the strength of a Justice Bringer came not from working for yourself, but for someone else. Aside from the founding of The Abbey In The Hills, this was one of my proudest accomplishments. The dawning of understanding in my pupils, made me see that the possibility of my legacy living beyond stories told of Bishop the Unbending was possible.

Turning my attention to Nadia, I couldn’t help but smile. In the ten days since she had come to The Abbey, Nadia had shown remarkable growth. It was as though she had been built for the training she was getting. The trial of sand was not only designed to build strength, and endurance. It was designed to force a novice to think. Nadia, it seemed, was more adept at this than most. It had taken her less than a week to realize her hands could not endure the constant beating of the trial. And on the morning of her fourth day, she showed up to the training yard with thick strips of cloth securely tied from her elbows to her knuckles.

I took a sense of pride in watching her work. She displayed a single minded determination in her training. No matter how long we worked in the yard, no matter the weather, no matter the circumstances. She simply refused to let the trial of sand defeat her. The absolute dedication to her appointed task was something everyone in the yard had taken notice of. And all of us, even Veritas, and myself, were impressed by it.

I had caught her, once or twice per day, looking at me as I trained my charges. The fiery, stubborn, grimace on her face as her eyes followed me about my work. I smiled every time she thought I wasn’t looking. I saw so much of my younger self in Nadia. Her need to prove herself to both Veritas and myself. Much the same I had tried to prove myself to Brother Cardinal, and Elder Monk. Her refusal to let herself be bested by the trial of sand. Much the same as my own. Refusing to quit, regardless of a broken hand. Forcing myself to learn to use my left, as well as my right, just to stay on par with the other novices. So much of the steel my mentors had seen in me, I saw in her. And the welling up of pride I experienced as I looked at her, pounding away at the sand, I finally understood, my mentors had most likely felt from me. To say that it was humbling would have been a gross understatement.

I shook myself from my musings, as I realized mid-day was approaching. Calling a halt to my charges’ efforts, I allowed them a brief rest. “Drink.” I said softly, as I watched the gratitude spread across their faces. “And prepare. Your next lesson starts soon.”

Again, I stood in the center of the yard. This time I held two of our practice batons. It was now time to see how my students would handle a fight against a true enemy. They had all trained in multiple weapons. Learning to use two weapons. But they had never fought someone equally trained. And in The World After, a lack of knowledge, and experience, was the first thing that could kill you.

As I anticipated, Erik was the primary aggressor. His rush was fast, and vicious. The constant humbling he had endured in our sparring, spurring him to take risks. He swept his weapon at my shoulder, attempting to bring me off balance. Swinging my hips to my right, I used the momentum of the move to bring my right arm up in a rapid arc. Slashing him across his left forearm, I gave him no time to accept the impact.

Sliding my right foot out and behind me for a pivot, I swung my left arm in a short controlled slash. The hollow thud of the wood impacting his ribs, drawing a heavy grunt, and forcing him behind me. I turned just in time to see Bram attempt an uppercut swing at my exposed flank.

Swinging down at his wrist, I managed to deflect the blow, out and to my left. Reacting to the shadow to my right, I dipped at my hips, and swung my right foot in front of me, as Anna finished a spin through a beautiful back handed slice. The blow slid over my head by only a few inches, and only my forward spin kept my flank safe from Bram’s follow up. I lashed out in a backhand attack at Anna, designed only to keep her off balance. She spun out to her left, keeping my weapons a safe distance from her. Only to collide with Erik again. As he tried lunging through her spin.

He growled at her venomously, “Stay out of my way! Or I may kill you myself!” as he once again shoved her away from him.

I saw a full scale brawl about to erupt, and decided it was finally time to deal with Erik. As fine a fighter as he was. He would never be a Justice Bringer. I slid behind him, with a savage slash, and chopped HARD at his hamstring, as I waived Anna and Bram away from the fight. Erik spun on me, his face twisted into a mask of hatred and rage. I stood several feet from him, my arms out stretched, and dropped both of my practice sticks.

“Attack if you will.” I said softly. I watched a shudder trace through both Anna and Bram at the intensity in my voice. “But if you do, this fight will be for real, and no longer sparring.”

I sighed, resigned to the inevitable, as Erik charged me. With a speed only years of training, and experience could provide, I stepped into his range of attack. Using my forearm, I intercepted his leading hand, stopping his swing. My right elbow driving with my full weight behind it, into the bridge of his nose. Using the momentary stun that comes with a broken nose, I wrapped my left arm up and over Erik’s weapon arm. Locking his arm straight at the elbow, I drove a punch into his left temple.

A groan escaped his mouth, as I watched his eyes roll in their sockets. Keeping his arm locked, I punched again. This one connecting along his jaw, just under his ear, I watched his head loll to the side, as his legs collapsed under him. Letting him fall to the ground, I turned to face the practice yard. All eyes were upon us. The novices with looks of stunned awe. Veritas with a look of profound sadness. Many novices failed in their training. Very few would willingly do what he had just done.

The Abbey had few standing laws, since we all relied upon each other to survive The World After. But first among those few was, never attack your own. To do so meant that Erik would not only never become a Justice Bringer. It meant he was to be expelled from The Abbey. In the four years since it’s founding, we had only enforced that law twice before. Now we had to force a young man, not yet ready to face The World After alone, out of our gates.

“Gather his things.” I said to Anna and Bram. “When he wakes...” Two sounds cut through my orders at once. One was a strangled growl, from close behind me. The other was a feral yowl. I turned in time to see the heavy ceramic bowl from the trial of sand crash into the side of Erik’s head. Followed very closely by a streak of auburn hair, as Nadia fell upon Erik in a fury.

Her time in the yard had not taught Nadia much in the way of true fighting. But it had taught her how to properly throw a punch. I was surprised and shocked when I watched Nadia assume a full mount of Erik’s chest. I was even more stunned when I saw her begin to rain down astonishingly solid punches to the stunned young man’s face.

By the time I had pulled the incensed girl off of him, Veritas had made her way across the yard, the look of sadness replaced by one of outrage. I glanced down, and saw Bram’s foot pressed firmly on the back of Erik’s hand. His fingers just inches away from a skinning knife. The look of hatred that was etched upon Erik’s face brought only sadness when I saw it. It was the same look I had seen in so many of the people in The World After. I knew as soon as I saw it that Erik had never truly survived his time outside of The Abbey.

The sun was just passing mid day, as I stood upon the southern wall of The Abbey, watching sadly as Erik slowly made his way from the walls he had called home for the last three years. Bram, and Anna, stood slightly apart from me, his arm around her shoulders as she silently mourned the loss of someone she had once called a brother.

“You know he may one day come to haunt us, yes?” Veritas’ voice cut through my morbid musing, almost as though she could read my mind.

Turning to look at her, I couldn’t help but notice the sadness etched around her eyes. The thought struck me, that she had seen far more than her share of such sadness in her years in The World After. In another life, in a different time, her heart may have known as much happiness, as she had known sadness in this one.

“I know Veritas.” I said gently. The World After was not a place that allowed you to speculate about what might have been. I needed to be the rock for The Abbey, and a rock does not bend before the storm. “But perhaps he may also one day find a sense of peace. And live a life worth being proud of.” Her hopeful nod was belied by the look of concern in her eyes. But to do what others might have done, to kill a man who may one day be a threat, would have made us no better than those who had created Pandemonium. And I refused to allow us to walk that path.

Nadia found me, hours later, still standing on the wall. I couldn’t help but smile, as I felt her warm, small hand slip into my own. “Bishop?” her voice was soft, yet full of concern. I couldn’t stop myself, as I turned and looked into the amazing violet eyes. “I won’t be like him will I?”