Swords clashed on the courtyard as instructors from among the Aolene guided the trainees in various sparring exercises. The handsome new uniforms Tiet had designed were of the same material used in the old Barudii cloaks and rendered the wearer electronically invisible.
Various improvements from Vorn technology allowed for the E.M. shields to be reduced in size and incorporated directly into the garments along with components that provided a real-time holographic data display and nano-sensory components. These additions helped to mimic the Barudii’s ability to sense information such as number and position of combatants within a certain range of their bodies.
The data from the suits sensors was used to create pressure sensations in the garment which then alerted the wearer-in effect giving them perception in all directions simultaneously. Other nano-components provided scanning of one’s surroundings, feeding the information to the holographic display.
Today, the trainees were practicing Barudii blade techniques. Much progress had been made in the eighteen months since Baeth Periege had been engulfed in battle. More trainees appeared daily as the migration from Castai-Origin continued, despite the threat of the Baruk. The city had been under constant repair by numerous robot construction crews, although the cloning facility which had once been a jewel of science for the city was never rebuilt. The Vorn “Council of the Twelve Cities,” named for the twelve large cities now housing the population for unification and safety concerns, had outlawed the cloning of Horva as servants.
General Grod’s Horva troops provided little interference to reconstruction after their defeat. There had been a few raids on smaller cities that were nearly abandoned, but it appeared they sought supplies now rather than conquest. Grod himself had been proven to still be alive, a fact which had brought considerable alarm to the Council. While there seemed to be no immediate threat, it was a definite possibility that Tiet’s new recruits might face a war on two fronts if the Horva resurfaced and the Baruk arrived.
Wynn continued to walk the length of the balcony until he saw a group of recruits surrounding one unarmed man. The young man was blindfolded but not bound. Several of the recruits moved in to strike. The first strike went for the face. The blindfolded man’s head bobbed to one side as the strike passed before him. He quickly struck the mid-section of the attacker then swept the feet while countering another strike from a different recruit.
As the recruits moved in quickly, trying to overwhelm the man, the whole situation seemed to revert to chaos. In a matter of a few seconds, all of the recruits were tossed to the ground, leaving the blindfolded man standing alone. Wynn chuckled a bit to himself as Tiet removed his blindfold and beckoned his students to their feet. Wynn could not hear the instructions given at that point, but soon the recruits disbanded to other exercises in the courtyard.
Tiet raised his blindfold again and replaced it over his eyes. Wynn noticed a flash of light as something caught the sun between Tiet and himself. Something whispered on the wind and kissed the railing of the balcony next to his right hand. Wynn saw a unarmed spicor disc lodged there.
He looked back at Tiet, still blindfolded but curling his index finger in the air toward Wynn. He smiled then stood waiting. Wynn dropped to the courtyard below as Tiet leaped at him. Wynn caught Tiet’s foot and sent a fist to the groin, but Tiet’s other leg had already come up and over to catch Wynn in the side of the head. Wynn stumbled as he let go of Tiet’s foot, but quickly regained his composure. Tiet was standing ready. He liked training with his new mentor.
Wynn smiled back at the younger man and began to think, maybe, he had taught him too well in recent months. They exchanged a quick moment of fists and kicks with neither man landing a blow with advantage. Tiet was still smiling behind his blindfold.
“I’ve come to urge you to speak with the Council,” Wynn said.
Tiet’s smile disappeared. He was never pleased when this subject came up. It often had, since the Council had pressed for leadership in the months following the battle at Baeth Periege.
“We’ve been over this before,” he said. “I am not the man to lead these people, Wynn.”
Wynn could sense that this hardness was not as deep as Tiet was trying to make it appear. They exchanged several more blows with Wynn the more playful now. He noticed that all the commotion on the courtyard had ceased. Nearly all of the recruits in the area were focused on the sparring between the two Barudii.
“You’ve become very powerful in recent months. Far more than when we first met,” Wynn said.
“All thanks to your training, I’m sure.”
“Would you be up to a wager with an old man?” Wynn asked.
Tiet smiled again and raised his blindfold. “Wynn, if you’re trying to get me to-”
“Of course if you doubt your ability to knock me to the ground in hand-to-hand combat, I suppose I understand.”
“And if I do?”
“Then I won’t bother you with the matter again.”
Now Tiet was intrigued. “Do you really mean it, Wynn?”
“I do.”
That was the last word he needed. Tiet launched an intensely fast barrage of fists and feet at Wynn. He managed to block them all, but with difficulty. The younger man had the age advantage and he was powerful. If this kind of attack continued, Tiet might wear him down.
Tiet was younger, but Wynn had decades of specialized training. He deliberately faltered and Tiet took the bait. He landed a strong blow to Wynn’s face. The elder man stumbled and went to one knee. Tiet approached. “Looks like you’re about to lose this one, Wynn,” he boasted.
“That’s too bad. Do you think Orin and Dorian would be proud of your lack of resolve to assume your rightful place?” he asked with mocking tone.
Tiet’s countenance flashed through surprise and then anger. He lunged. The elder man took the opportunity and rose to meet him with a knee to the stomach: three consecutive quick blows that knocked the wind out of him. He followed the ambush with a backhand to the side of the head that sent Tiet to the ground gasping for breath.
He looked up at his mentor, who was smiling at him again. He remembered the old lesson to refrain from anger in battle as it can foil one’s concentration.
“You tricked me,” he coughed out.
“My dear young king, it was only for your own good and ours.”
Wynn offered Tiet a hand, helping him to stand again. The pride and anger were gone, replaced with the knowledge that Wynn would never let the issue die.
“The Council meets tonight at dusk. Don’t be late.”
Wynn smiled and turned away to leave the courtyard and its stunned audience who began to whisper about the outcome. Tiet looked after the elder man. He had been foolish to have been baited so easily. It was so important to Wynn, this matter of the throne. Tiet did not understand why, but a promise was still a promise.
He heard a slow clapping coming from behind him and looked to see its source. Ranul was sitting under the shade of the balcony overhead clapping, sarcastically, with a sly grin on his face.
“Yes, yes-very funny,” Tiet said as he turned to gather up his sparring equipment from the ground.
Ranul got up and walked over to him. The soldiers were renewing their training on the grounds, pairing up as they prepared for the days to come when the Baruk would almost certainly attack.
“Now don’t be mad, young master. After all, Wynn means well. The people do need a leader and you are the natural choice. I’m sure Orin would have agreed.”