A Sonata of Swords


I was beginning to get used to the taste of dirt. Tarias smirked down at me leaning slightly on his sword. I hated that guy. If he was better at something than anyone else, he reveled in the opportunity to show it. Eyes locked on his, I got to my feet and rushed him, with my sword extended above my head. He easily parried my downward swing and tripped me, sending my face back into the dirt.

“What are you doing, Jhareth?” Rhodias screamed at me. “I’ve told you many times never to leave yourself open like that!”

Rhodias, my instructor, was from Hilonia, and was at least as twice as large as myself. His brown, curly shoulder-length hair, and his thick beard made him look like a berserker, which was what he used to be. When he screamed, everyone noticed.

“I’ve had enough of these swords!” I screamed back at him. “Give me my daggers!” I was not proficient in swordsmanship, but I had a pair of daggers that had won me many fights. Being without them was much like a king without his crown.

“Time!” Rhodias called. Tarias relaxed from his fighting stance. Rhodias jumped over the barrier and into the arena. He walked angrily over to me. “Run me through,” he bellowed.

I reared my sword arm back and gave my best forward thrust. Rhodias spun around and grabbed my arm. His leg came behind me and swept my feet.

Leaning over me, he said, “There may come a time one day when you don’t have your daggers, Horse Dancer. What weapon will you use then, hmm?”

I sat up and looked away, partly because I was angry, partly because I was embarrassed. I caught a glance from my friends Nerris and Dist, who were sitting in the stands, as were many other students of Gauntlet. Dist was easy to spot because of his bright blond hair, and his face did almost resemble a rodent in some respects, though some said the same about me sometimes. Nerris was right next to him, of course. He was around the same size as Dist and me, with light brown hair, and just the hint of a beard growing on his face.

I sheepishly ran my hand through my black hair. I couldn’t just give up, not with the rest of them watching. I stood up and put up my guard.

“Remember, swing from the hip,” Rhodias told me. “Ready!” he called, and Tarias put his guard up as well. “Fight!”

I rushed forward to meet the dirt once more.

Gauntlet was a place to get an education. Not the kind of education the higher-born nobles of the Tormalian kingdoms could get at the universities in Locraw and Faerlin, but a combat school. Students who trained at Gauntlet would go back to their homelands and achieve high rankings in their country’s army or would become the highest paid of mercenaries.

Nerris, Dist, and I came to Gauntlet a year before. Not to become soldiers, but so we could be ready for whatever awaited us as we traveled the continent. We thought we knew how to fight but were proven wrong by a band of raiders. When we came to Gauntlet, penniless, Rhodias saw our potential and offered to train us.

Gauntlet was set against the mountains of northern Agos, just a stone’s throw away from the port city of Orrigo. The mountains created a beautiful backdrop to the rolling hills where many of the students ate in the afternoon.

“Have you ever thought about what we’re going to do first when we finish our training here?” Nerris asked. “I don’t mean just get even with those raiders, but after that.”

“I have,” I replied. “I want to do what we set out to do a year ago. To go after the world’s greatest treasures with you two, and retire as a rich man.” That had been a dream of mine since I had been stealing chicken eggs as a child. There was something about discovery, about finding lost relics, that was the driving force behind all my travels. That’s probably why I never stayed in one place for long.

“I don’t know,” Dist questioned. “Maybe to get some recognition for all the things I’ve invented.”

Dist was a mechanical genius. He was always thinking of three things: weapons he could invent, fire, and some combination thereof. For that reason, he earned himself the nickname Fire Box, just as I was Horse Dancer, for my ability to mount a horse with a rider, take him off, and kill him before he hit the ground.

“My dream is simple, and it’s already coming true,” Nerris said. “I just want to see the world.”

Nerris was the best swordsman in Gauntlet and given the caliber of warriors in Gauntlet that was no easy trick. His nickname was Steel Gaze because of his lack of emotion during combat.

“Someone’s coming,” Dist said.

I looked down the hill; and indeed, a man in a red cloak was walking in our direction. I looked at Nerris.

“Take positions,” he ordered.

I dove behind some bushes while Nerris climbed a tree until he was out of sight. Dist merely stood up and waited for the man.

The man spotted Dist and walked toward him. I waited anxiously for the right moment. When he reached the bushes, Nerris hooted like an owl, which was our signal. The man turned toward the sound, and I leaped from the bushes and tackled him. The red-cloaked visitor hit the ground and painfully found my dagger at his throat.

“Well done, students,” he approved. I released him from my grip and helped him up.

“I have your assignments for the tournament,” he said. He produced three parchments and handed them to Nerris. He turned and walked back toward Gauntlet. We remained in a ready stance until he was gone.

Nerris handed a parchment to Dist and one to me. I eagerly looked down at the yellowed paper. In black ink, it read:

Jhareth Kanave- Sword

“Sword!?” I yelled.

Nerris glanced at me. “Something wrong?”

“You know damn well what’s wrong!” I yelled. “I can break through any swordsman’s defense, take a rider from his mount, and they stick me in the Tournament of the Sword!”

“Jhareth, you’re whining,” Dist barked.

“All right, which tournament are you in?” I inquired.

He smiled. “Archery, naturally.”

“Naturally,” I replied sarcastically. I’d never seen Dist miss a target when he had a bow in his hands. “Why would Rhodias do this to me?”

“Before I open your eyes to the painfully obvious,” Nerris said, “would you like me to train you so that you don’t completely embarrass yourself?”

Nerris’s words rang true like one of Dist’s arrows. It would be dishonorable to back out of the tournament, but I did want to save some face.

“Are you going to help or just knock me on my backside all day?” I inquired.

Nerris feigned an injured look. “Would I do that to one of my best friends?”

“Yes,” I said, “and you’d be laughing the entire way through it.”

Nerris laughed. “Well, you’re right but not for something as important as a tournament.”

“I hate to interrupt,” Dist said, “but we better get back. Rhodias will drill us for an extra hour if he has to come looking for us.”

The next day, my training with Nerris began. We trained in the arena after all instructors finished for the day. We practiced swordplay under the moonlight.

When we were ready, I charged him. He easily swatted my blade aside.

“First off, stop doing that,” he said. “Only strike first if necessary. Take your time and measure your opponent. This isn’t a race.”

I tried again, letting Nerris strike first. He faked a forward thrust and brought his sword around in a right arc, stopping a few inches from my head.

“Watch your opponent’s sword,” he warned.

We started over and he struck again. I parried his thrusts and settled down a little. I could tell he was holding back, but at least I wasn’t eating dirt.

“Good,” he said. “There may be hope for you yet, old friend.”

We practiced every chance we could get over the next few days. I was nowhere near as adept as Nerris, but I was at least competent by the time the tournament came around. Two nights before, Nerris and I were still practicing when he suddenly said, “Freestyle.”

“What?” I asked.

“Let’s fight freestyle,” he said. “Go for your daggers.”

I dropped my sword and immediately reached for their hilts; I merely grabbed air. My daggers were gone.

Nerris raised an eyebrow. “So what are you going to do?” he asked.

I dove for my sword, but Nerris was quicker, and suddenly, his blade was at my throat.

“Looking for these?” he asked, sheathing his sword and taking my daggers out of his shirt.

“How did you get them?”

“I picked your pockets, o great thief,” he said mockingly. “I learned from the best, after all.” He tossed me my daggers. “I had to show you how important this is.”

I nodded. What Rhodias was trying to teach me suddenly hit me, as well as how foolish I had been. I wasn’t good with a sword because I was unwilling to learn. Once I was forced to learn, I improved.

“Thanks, Nerris,” I expressed.

He nodded. No more words were necessary between us. He looked to the night sky. “Rest tomorrow,” he said. “I want to see you in the finals.”

As was customary, Gauntlet’s students spent the day before the tournament honing their skills. Nerris, Dist, and I spent the day in Orrigo, carousing in the taverns. All three of us knew we were as prepared as we were going to get, and exhausting ourselves wasn’t going to do us any good. Nerris, unlike Dist and myself, was not a heavy drinker. He kept a watchful eye on us, making sure that we didn’t have too much.

The next day was the annual Orrigo Seaside Festival, which commemorated the founding of Agos’s only port city. A part of the festivities was the annual Gauntlet tournaments, with elite displays in swordsmanship, daggers, archery, axes, and pikes. Huge crowds flocked to the Gauntlet’s arena to watch the students.

I gawked jealously as a Dell named Pythis won the Tournament of the Dagger. I had beaten him many times in practice, and it didn’t seem fair that I wasn’t in the tournament. I tore myself away from that thought and began mentally preparing myself for reality, not what could have been reality.

Archery was next. I watched as Dist and the other archers fired their arrows into a target. Those who hit the center stayed, while the others were eliminated. The targets got smaller, until only Dist and an Agos boy, whose name I did not know, remained. The boy missed the target by a few inches. Dist, as I knew he would, hit the target in the center, winning the tournament. The Tournament of the Axe was next, which mostly involved Hilonians.

Nerris found me and sat next to me. “You ready?”

I nodded. The sheer energy surrounding the tournament was running through me, and I felt half-nervous, and the other half of me felt like going out and conquering the world.

He smacked me on the shoulder. “Lighten up. You’ve come a long way.”

I looked at him. “I just hope you’re a better teacher than you are a supporter.” I laughed and Nerris playfully shoved me.

Axes and pikes came and went, and it was time for the Tournament of the Sword. I went to the back of the arena where the fighters were preparing for their first match. Despite Nerris’s insistence on seeing me in the finals, none of the participants knew who their first round opponent would be. Mine could have been Nerris for all I knew. I quickly grabbed my sword and prepared to enter the arena.

The founder of Gauntlet, a man by the name of Owen Palwell, walked to the center of the arena. He was a lean man in his middle ages. A few wrinkles had found their way onto his face, which looked a little weary. He raised a hand for silence from the crowd. “The Tournament of the Sword will now begin!” he called. “First match: Jhareth Kanave against Tarias Hanlier!”

Wonderful. The one student I couldn’t stand was my first opponent. I remembered what Nerris taught me. Any opponent could be beaten. I said a quick prayer to the god Clystam, the Gentle God of the Hilonians, Faernans and Agos, and I then stepped into the arena.

Tarias smirked at me.

“Salute,” Owen said.

I straightened my body, touched the pommel of my sword to my head, and brought it slightly outward toward Tarias. He did the same. We both got into our fighting stance. We waited for the signal from the judge, who would determine if someone would be dead, if it were a real fight.

Owen waited too, and the judge gave his signal. “Fight!” he yelled.

Tarias prepared for my charge, but it never came. He looked a bit surprised at that. I circled him while he adjusted his position back into a fighting stance.

Quickly, he spun around and struck. I brought my own blade up and blocked him. He distanced himself from me. This time, he charged. For the next several minutes, the only sounds were our swords clanging together. He made a forward thrust, but I swatted it out of the way and brought my sword up for a backhand slash. Tarias got his weapon up at the last second, and we were hilt to hilt. Our eyes locked and I could see the apprehension on his face. At this point, he wasn’t so sure of himself.

With surprising strength, he hurled me backwards. I landed on my rear in the dirt. Tarias raised his sword to give his victory blow, and that was his mistake. I rolled backwards, found my feet, and sprang forward all in one motion. I raised my sword and gave his blade a blow so hard it sent the sword careening out of his hand. I lowered my sword until the blade was right next to his neck. Tarias never saw any of it coming.

“Finished!” yelled the judge.

I lowered my sword and offered to clasp hands. Tarias scowled at me, picked up his sword, and stomped away. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to touch him anyway.

“Congratulations.” Nerris smiled at me when I arrived in the back. “When I saw your opponent was Tarias, I wasn’t sure if you could do it.”

I smiled back and shrugged. “Thanks for opening my eyes, Nerris.”

“Anytime,” he said. “It would look bad if we were after a great treasure and you were slain by a common roadside bandit, don’t you think?”

I had to laugh at that.

“You still have another round before we meet,” Nerris said. “I talked with Rhodias and you’ve exceeded his expectations already. Let’s really tug his beard, all right?”

In the next round, I wasn’t so lucky. The Yagol, Yalez Vaed by name, fed me his sword fairly quickly. That didn’t ruin my mood, however. In the span of a few days, I had become a competent swordsman and humiliated someone I hated.

Nerris won the tournament, of course. Even Yalez couldn’t handle his hand-switch combination, which came out of nowhere. There was a big ceremony afterward, where all the winners were honored in front of the crowd.

I kept training at both dagger and sword over the next year. Nerris and I even met in the finals of the next year’s tournament. Neither of us held anything back, but in the end, Nerris came out with the narrow victory. I could live with being the second best swordsman in Gauntlet.

We finished our training at Gauntlet shortly thereafter. When I set out to follow my dream, Nerris and Dist were right beside me. No matter what treasures we uncovered or what great adventures we had, I never forgot the lessons I learned at Gauntlet. It’s funny how the dirt actually helped me clear my mind.