Chapter 2

"We will meditate before we start our practice," Ree'al said as he and Darsonus walked towards the sword smith's."

"Why not afterwards?"

"Because we're putting on a show today, we need to build the suspense. We'll make formal bows to each other, remove our shirts, and spar with naked blades. Start out slowly and end with a speed that feels comfortable. If it's too fast, I'll let you know. They won't know the difference between three-quarters and full speed, so just be on the safe side. When I give you the signal, I'll slip on your next attack. Please try not to skewer me. My skin fits properly. It needs no alterations."

"Why are we fighting without shirts?" Darsonus asked.

"How many women do you want tonight?"

"That's what I like about you Ree'al, you're always thinking of the important things," Darsonus grinned, slapping Ree'al on the back. "Did you bring a needle and thread?"

"Why? Do you think you'll need it?"

"When I leave an opening, give me a small cut here," Darsonus pointed just above his heart. "I have no idea why, but women love my chest as much as I love theirs."

"Are you sure you don't want me to cut a little lower, Dar?"

"How much lower?"

"Dar, is your chest what you really want the girls kissing or would you like the kisses much lower?"

"No, I'm sure about this, Ree'al. A small cut on the chest. I just shrivel up thinking about a cut down below. In fact, why don't you keep all strikes above my waist today?"

As the two warriors approached the smith's they could see that a crowd had already assembled. "Word of our practice has spread better than I expected," Darsonus scanning the crowd as he spoke.

"That it has," replied Ree'al.

"I see just enough beautiful women here already."

"I didn't know there could be enough for you. How many is just enough?" Ree'al asked in surprise.

"Enough for me to have different women each night we're here," Darsonus replied.

"Aren't you going to let the girls from last night help you celebrate your victory?" Ree'al asked.

"Now would that be fair to all the other beauties?"

Ree'al didn't answer, he walked through the crowd and into the practice area. A small polite applause greeted him. He looked for the sword smith and was moving towards him as a much louder and boisterous cheer went up for Darsonus.

"Sword smith," Ree'al had to lean close to be heard over the noise of the crowd. "Would you be Match Master for us?"

"What type of match is it?"

"Two friends showing off for a crowd."

"Will you abide by all of my rulings?"

"We will," Ree'al spoke, Darsonus nodding his assent. Ree'al was surprised how seriously the smith was taking his request.

"Then I accept," the smith said.

Ree'al reached into his pocket and handed a gold piece to the smith but the smith would not take it.

"I'll take no money to be a Match Master."

Ree'al gave him a slight bow and asked, "Can we have a few minutes to meditate before the match begins?"

"Meditate, for sparring? That is an odd request."

"Just a bit of showmanship."

"I was a warrior when I was young, and I take the Match Master's duties seriously. I will not take part of a match that is a farce." The smith's face was showing anger as he spoke.

"It's not a farce. It's a demonstration," Ree'al reassured him. "We'll have naked blades and we'll be moving quickly and powerfully. A warrior who can read a fight, and know when to step in could be of great assistance. You are the only person I have seen in this town who might be what we need." Ree'al's smirk was gone, he waited for the smith's decision.

"What will you meditate on?"

"My tanja's grip. It is old and I need to replace it. I want to remember what it feels like," Ree'al said.

"And your friend?" Darsonus had moved to the middle of the yard and was stretching.

"I'd like to tell you that he'll be meditating on something deep and sublime," Ree'al paused, "but most likely he'll be thinking of the women he will bed tonight."

"And you feel safe with him having his mind on women and not the fight?"

"His mind is always on women. It hasn't been a problem so far," Ree'al shrugging.

"We'll begin in 10 minutes," said the smith. "Tell your large friend."

Little happens in a town such as Aquintali, word of the match had spread like a tidal wave and the crowd was large. Ree'al looked at the crowd as he approached Darsonus. The minor nobility and the gentry were in the front ranks as always. Their clothes and jewelry announced their station. The poor had the best "seats", perched on the fence that surrounded the yard. That fence would not survive the match if many more people climbed aboard.

Ree'al tried to make eye contact with some of the noblewomen. A widow would be perfect, a woman of the world who wouldn't need courting. A woman who knew her needs and wasn't afraid to fulfill them. A woman who knew the politics of this kingdom and would share her knowledge with him.

Ah. There she is. Obviously in mourning, her black dress a contrast to the cacophony of color around her. Please let it be her husband who is dead and not her child. She was pretty in her late thirties or early forties. Ree'al would look for her after the match.

He was under no illusion that he was as handsome as Darsonus, but he knew he was attractive enough. In fact if he were standing next to almost anyone except Darsonus, his face and body would be judged beautiful. At 5' 6" and 140 pounds, he was nothing but muscles. No visible fat on his body; a body in perfect proportion except for his forearms. As with all warriors his forearms were large and corded, giving him strong wrists and grip.

Darsonus also had his eye on women, but all he cared about was their beauty and their bosom. He was enjoying himself like a child in a pastry shop.

"Dar," Ree'al tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention, "the smith has agreed to act as Match Master, he'll let us meditate after the bows. We'll make a formal bow to him and formal bows to each other. Begin meditation, he will announce the end of meditation. Keep your mind on the match. Try not to meditate on melons."

"How about pale smooth thighs?" Darsonus asked.

"I guess it doesn't matter. I'm not even sure you know how to meditate. Just be mindful during the match. If one of us is crippled or killed it will most assuredly ruin our plans. Now take off your shirt off so the women will see your chest."

Ree'al prepared for the match. He and Darsonus each used the same four basic attacks when they put on a display. It looks like more because the movements could come from several different positions. The same movements made by Ree'al and Darsonus also looked different because their bodies were so different. A different defense would also change the movement. Only a true swordsman or weapons master would notice.

Ree'al visualized the movements that Darsonus would make and his own general response to them. Not a blow by blow plan, since that would lack spontaneity, but a generalized movement that would put Ree'al into a good position to respond. He then visualized Darsonus' likely movement response when Ree'al attacked.

Ree'al finished his preparation. Betting was heavy as were the odds in favor of Darsonus. Each removed his weapons belt and pulled free his swords. Ree'al had a moment of joy at being alive with a sword in his hands, but only a moment. His preparations reminded him of other days and another way of life. If only he could regain his honor, but he couldn't, so this would have to do.

"Who wishes to demonstrate their skills in the circle?" The smith's voice was clear over the noise of the crowd.

"I, Darsonus."

"And I, Ree'al."

"Will you accept the decisions of Match Master Tarsus?"

Both Darsonus and Ree'al answered, "I will."

The change in the smith's appearance was stunning. His hair was in a warrior's knot and he had a Match Master's sash across his chest. But it was his face that had changed the most. An unremarkable smith before, now he was a commanding presence. He wore two swords at his waist and held a Match Master's staff in his hands.

"What's going on, Ree'al?" Darsonus whispered.

"He's a real Match Master. Follow his commands and be polite no matter what he tells you."

"Warriors. Approach," Tarsus said.

"Right before you enter the fighting circle, make a formal bow to him," whispered Ree'al.