Metal and Flesh (The Rohvim, Book 1)

15.2 Empowered

"Now," Arturo started, "Enter your minds, but stay here in the flesh, too. See your wall. Find the right section ..."

   The boys stood there, their eyes almost glazed over. Priam faintly replied, "I think I've got it."

   Aeden was shaking his head. "I can't do it. How do you go in your mind and yet stay here?"

   Priam goaded him, "Come on, Aeden, pull your head out. Literally."

   Aeden whacked him on the head. He tried again, drawing himself inward ... there it was, he could see his mind's wall, but was nearly oblivious to his surroundings. He looked around him and saw Arturo patiently waiting and Priam snickering, and lost sight of his wall. Arturo reassured him, "You'll get it. We all do eventually. It's like eating-you go without it for a week, and you might have trouble remembering what to do with the bread once it's presented to you, but after five seconds it's like you never fasted. That's how regular people are-it's like they've never eaten before, their jaws not sure of what to do when the bread is in the mouth. So it is with you. You'll get it." He turned to Priam, "Now boy, duel me, but save your burst of soul for when you make contact with my sword. And by the way, never, ever do this unless you're holding the metal hilt of your sword firmly with your hand. Believe me, you'll regret it if you're not holding your sword. Now. Come at me."

    Priam raised his sword and slashed at the Swordmaster who parried once, twice, and when the swords connected a third time, the blades flashed, and Arturo dropped his with a jerk. "Very well done!" He slapped Priam on the shoulder, and retrieved his sword. "Look at your strength. How is it?"

   Priam's eyes glazed, and he replied, "It hardly moved. Just a little. And it's already gone back up."

   Arturo nodded. "Good. You gave me a good, solid shock. In real combat, if I was determined, I might not have dropped my sword, so you must increase the force when you get into a sticky situation. But well done for your first time. Shall we try again? This time, I will also shock you, and you focus on not letting go of your sword. It will hurt, but you will not be damaged."

   Priam nodded, and charged the man again, this time there was a flurry of sparks and light. The boy yelled in pain with every stroke, to the amusement of the master. Finally the man delivered a powerful blow, which flashed so bright that Aeden blinked. By this time, several of the other young members of the group had gathered around, cheering the flashing display. Priam dropped his sword with a cry, rubbing the palm of his hand. Arturo chuckled, and picked up Priam's sword for him, offering it to the boy, who received it, remarking, "That was quite a shock, sir."

   Frederick chimed in, "That's nothing. One time he made me lose feeling in my hand for a whole day!"

   "You were just begging for it, mouthing off to me like you were." Retorted the Swordmaster. They spent the next several minutes in a fantastic display of flashing swordsmanship. Sparks, light, shouts, cries, jagged lines of flashing energy that arced everywhere as Arturo began to use the full spectrum of a rohva's sword dueling skills. Rupert grinned wildly. Darla clapped and jeered. Betha hollered and encouraged. Frederick joked and cajoled. Stuart hooted and fist-pumped the air. Aeden watched with a touch of jealousy. He had enough, and walked a few dozen paces off until he was looking out over the edge of the precipice, into the valley below. Small clearings punctuated the thickets of trees, and a light early morning mist still hung in the air.

   Then Aeden saw them. Close to the bottom of the precipice's wall, a group of people, moving quickly to the north. He squinted his eyes. They were armed and arrayed in the armor he had seen before on the soldiers of the stone-faced army. Others, with their hands tied behind their backs, were forced to march with them. Prisoners, most likely, he thought. His mind flashed to his home, of the master healer's description of entire neighborhoods standing empty, the inhabitants disappeared. The image of his fallen, bloodied father floated up before his mind's eye, and the image of his sister, which he had not the courage to face before in waking hours, intruded upon his thoughts.

   His blood boiled, and he drew his sword. He ran back to the duelists and their cheering observers and shouted, "The stone-faced soldiers are down in the valley below! They have prisoners! If we don't move now, they will escape, for they move quickly!" And he ran off, towards a path he had seen that would take him to the valley below. The youth looked at each other in shock, and determination, running after him.