The Things We Keep

The Things We Keep Part 1

Roger Jolly, a young officer of Kingdom's army, swung his sword at his opponent, striking the metal on his shoulder plate, intending only to throw him off-balance. His sparring partner moved a step to the left, and the opportunity presented itself to Roger to take him down. He used his elbow to push on the other's breastplate. The soldier tried to keep his balance as Roger had predicted. He lowered his head and buried his helmet into his adversary's abdomen, pushing him backward. The other man failed to adjust and fell, raising the dust of soil in a dispersed cloud. Before he had a chance to react, Roger pointed his sword at the man's throat. His rival removed his gauntlet and threw it on the ground, defeated.

Roger turned around and grinned at his battalion. He had won again. Since coming here from his farm and participating in the exercises, he hadn't been defeated. Most of the army were serfs and common laborers. Only a handful had the training he had received before joining King Marsh's army.

The captain nodded his way as Roger stepped back to his place in the formation. Before he arrived at his destination, however, his commanding officer called him back. "Roger, you have another challenger to test your skill."

Roger turned around while a fully-armored knight strolled across the field. The sunlight glistened off of the polished metal and the helmet enclosed his head. His eyes hid within the recesses of the shadows of his headgear and three vertical slits formed the mouth. Roger didn't know this paladin, and he examined his stride as he readied his sword and shield. The mysterious knight advanced with resolve.

Roger raised his shield and approached. Instantly, his foe began to circle instead of charging at him. The hooded soldier made a complete circle, waiting for Roger to attack. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. When facing an unknown enemy, Roger thought it best for the contender to make the first move. His strategy involved evaluating his challenger's fighting style to plan his counterattack.

The soldier stopped and stood still far from striking distance. He lifted his sword in a victory pose as if predicting Roger's inevitable defeat. The sunlight caught the sword and for a moment it flashed in his eyes, temporarily blinding him. Red spots sprinkled across Roger's line of sight forcing him to blink rapidly. After he cleared his vision, he realized his opponent meant to reflect the light to blind him.

The knight sprang like a cat leaps on a fly, pouncing despite the cumbersome armor. Roger stepped backward, but he knew he had lost any advantage. His opponent had used his sword as a blinding technique and then his shield as a weapon. The top of the shield curved up to dagger-sharp points and he aimed the leftmost edge at his heart. He grunted as the edge struck him on the breastbone, piercing the armor, and pushing against his skin. But his highly-skilled foe knew how much pressure to apply to keep the wound light. Before he reacted, the other man swept his leg and tripped Roger, one step ahead again.

Roger should've fallen to the ground, but his mentor had taught him compensating moves to keep his balance. "To lose your balance while battling is death," he had taught him, and they exercised poise and form. This exercise had frustrated Roger when he practiced long ago, but now he was grateful as he placed his feet to prevent himself from toppling over. Yet while he balanced his body to avoid falling, he lost his opportunity to rush the knight.

The gleaming sword slashed left and Roger countered with his shield. The opponent didn't pause for a moment as the sword thrust at his lower leg. He sidestepped it and planted his feet as the sword swung past. The breeze from the sword's arc ruffled his tunic.

As his foe went to attack again, Roger thrust with his own sword at his opponent's hand, managing to nick the top of his gauntlet and loosen his grip on his weapon. Roger used the advantage to rush forward, hoping to change the momentum of the exercise. He expected the soldier to focus on tightening his grip on the sword instead of countering his advance. Again, his target surprised him as he dropped his sword and focused on Roger. He lowered the shield's sharp point and thrust it forward, attacking the oncoming soldier. Roger understood, too late, he left himself exposed to the shield's sharp edge. The soldier again slightly nicked him. He stepped backward and grimaced, evaluating the two cuts in his armor, and concluding his challenger's skill superior to his own. Slowly, he removed the gauntlet and, flushing, threw it to the ground. "I admit defeat, but I call this engagement unfair. No one drops his sword in the heat of battle with enemies around."