One day followed another without incident. Between my training of the novices and my periods of advanced practice under Lukor I was rapidly developing into a brilliant swordsman, as Lukor often remarked himself.
These were happy days―my happiest on Thanator ―and I look back on them fondly. Between work and practice and training, we relaxed at a wineshop frequented by theater people, jugglers, mountebanks, and magicians. Sometimes we spent the evening at the theater, and sometimes we strolled in the pleasure gardens of the Upper City into which Lukor was permitted to pass by virtue of possession of a medallion which gave him entree to the citadel for his private lessons.
As my plans were vague, I remained at the Academy Lukor for the better part of a month. The fortunes of the Princess of Shondakor were now in hands better equipped than my own to render assistance to her cause; my only other friend, Koja, was doubtless dead. I had no plans for the future save for a dim hope of somehow finding my way back to the Gate Between The Worlds.
And that hope was extremely dim. Two thousand miles of mountain and jungle lay between the City in the Clouds and the circle of monoliths that was my one hope of ever returning to Earth. Alone and on foot it seemed an impossible task.
So I stayed. And, while waiting for some chance to offer itself, I was well on my way to becoming a great swordsman.
My discovery of the secret botte came about as follows.
One evening I had gone to the theater as the guest of one of my young pupils, the son of a prominent merchant. Lukor, that night, was host to his friend Irivor; as the play that night was a romantic comedy devoid of swordplay, the fencing master had a night off. The old comrades usually got together at least once a week to drink a few bottles and chuckle over old times.
Returning home alone in the small hours, I found neither my host nor his friend in the living quarters; but from the practice hall above I heard the ring and slither of blades. I went up the stairs and found the two in their cups, stripped to the waist, industriously plying their flickering rapiers and bawling ribald commentary on the other's style.
For a few minutes, grinning, I watched the duel unseen. Then fat, red-faced Irivor made some stinging remark that touched Lukor to momentary rage. As I watched, the Swordmaster executed a very adroit and rapid action which ended with his button-tip tapping the astounded Irivor above the heart.
Never had I seen that deft and dazzlingly swift bit of strategy, and it puzzled me. The next day I asked Lukor about it, and he was shocked and somehow taken aback that I had witnessed the action. When I pressed, he admitted that he should not have used that attack even in playful bout. Indeed, he would not have, had he not been in his cups and had not the boisterous Irivor taunted him until he lost his selfcontrol.
"It is a secret botte, known only to the greatest Swordmasters, and never taught or even demonstrated to ordinary pupils," he confessed shamefacedly. "You will understand, Jandar, that a teacher in the art of fence is forbidden to duel, as to pit his superior professional skill against an ordinary swordsman would be tantamount to murder. Some generations ago a great Swordmaster named Kamad of Tharkol discovered a secret botte that is invincible―the Botte of Kamad, we term it, and it is a secret of the profession.
I am forbidden even to discuss the matter, so I will ask you not to press me further."
Of course, as was only good manners, I agreed not to embarrass Lukor further on this point. But I could not help being intrigued by my discovery. I tried to remember the exact sequence of moves that I had seen Lukor make. You will understand that by this time I had been breathing, eating, sleeping, and living swordsmanship for every day of the past month, and I was by now trained in all the finer points of the art. Alone before the mirrors, I practiced what I could recall of Kamad's Botte, and one afternoon Lukor caught me thus engaged. I flushed crimson, but he waved my embarrassment away, saying my curiosity was natural enough. And then, because it was obvious I was not going to forget about the secret attack, he set out to teach it to me.
The art of fence consists of a sequence of attacks and parries, a succession of disengages from one line into another. You attack and your opponent parries the attack; as you recover, he attacks; you parry and make another attack, and so on. Where superior skill comes into the picture is through a higher knowledge of the forms and varieties of attack and parry, and the ability to think while fighting.
Lukor patiently instructed me in the secret botte, which was at once staggeringly simple and remarkably sophisticated. As the Thanatorian fencing terms would be meaningless to my reader I shall render his instruction in the comparable terrene terms for the art of fence, insofar as I am able to recall them correctly.
"First, Jandar, you engage in tierce, which your foe will most likely counter with a demi-contre. Next you counter with a thrust in quinte, and when it is parried, you reenter lower―thus―and, as you are parried your foe will be slightly off balance and his arm here, his point there. As you can see, it is remarkably difficult for him to recover in time to parry your next thrust―and, if you lunge with your point in carte, it is physically impossible."
We practiced the action. It was incredibly beautiful in its simplicity. And it was foolproof. I said as much.
"Quite so. For that reason, the Swordmasters' Guild have kept it a carefully guarded professional secret. Armed with this simple technique, you can overcome any swordsman alive―even another Swordmaster who, however well he knows the trick, is physically unable to counter it. Most masters think it preferable to enter into a series of four passes and then to strike on the fourth disengage. Or, if you like, you can thrust on the fifth, but that is pressing it a bit."
"Master―could not the botte be employed after a double feint just as well?"
Lukor's eyes flashed with approval.
"Ah! Very good. You are thinking, Jandar! Yes, it can follow a double or even a triple feint, if you are pressed for time and doubt if you have leisure for the entire sequence. But now I must enjoin you to secrecy as regards the Botte of Kamad. I do not ask you to promise me that you will never use it in a duel, for when one's life is at stake, such vows are foolish. But I ask on your honor that you will never divulge the botte to another."
Although with my disguise I could come and go as I pleased, Lukor was still my major link with the outside world; especially with the Upper City.
I should perhaps have explained earlier that the old Swordmaster was no friend of Thuton's regime. The Prince had succeeded to his father's throne only a year or two before, and Thuton's father, Gryphar, had himself been a rogue, usurping the throne and slaying the last member of the true Zanadarian dynasty in a palace coup. Lukor had supported the old king of the previous dynasty, and considered himself an enemy of the present family of usurpers, paying only lip service to his Vow of Fealty to Prince Thuton, whom he disliked and distrusted.
To Lukor I had disclosed the whole story of my recent adventures, my enslavement by the Yathoon Horde, my rescue of the Princess Darloona from the attack of the vastodon, our capture by the komor Gamchan, our escape and capture anew by the frigate Skygull. Indeed, I had withheld nothing from his sympathetic ear save the fact that I was not native to Thanator.
He often returned from his tutorial visits to the Upper City with news concerning the Princess of Shondakor. It was his considered opinion that Thuton was planning to wed the Princess only to have a claim to the throne of Shondakor, which he hoped to tear from the hands of the Chac Yuul warriors on the pretext of being the champion of Darloona's cause. But this was merely Lukor's opinion, as I reluctantly was forced to point out. I tended to disregard my own inclination to distrust the wily Prince, still hoping he was sincere in his avowed purpose of helping Darloona regain her rightful throne.