Project Empress 010

 (chapter 3 continued and finished)

After passing the lord-bishop´s test, Natalie told Cara that she would be busy for the next few days, getting their funds, planning her training and their next steps. She told Cara to take care of whichever things she might still have to attend to, as they would be leaving the city soon. Like, for example, going to her club and telling her teacher that she now had a new master and would be travelling for a while and she might also mention the tournament. 

The following Sunday Cara did exactly none of these things, instead deciding to sleep for 12 hours. Spend some more hours in her bed. Get a very late brunch delivered to her flat, after which she finally got to take the bath she had been dreaming about for so long. The hot water was like a warm embrace and the lightest massage It helped her forgetting how sore her whole body still was, while her body found it soothing enough that it started entertaining the concept of forgiveness.

Then she let the evening turn into night. She ate some leftovers and listened to music while going through both her training as well as the duel she had witnessed the day before in her mind. There was a lot she still had to learn. However, seeing all the skills that were still out there for her to experience was exhilarating. She tried picturing herself pulling of manoeuvres like Natalie and the lord-bishop, but even in her imagination some of these movements were outside her range. As she was trying to reconstruct the moves in her mind, her daydreams turned into proper ones as she fell asleep on her couch.

When she woke up again, she lay splayed over her couch in a way that even a cat would have found uncomfortable. Her body, the moment her consciousness returned, assaulted her with a new and exiting list of complaints. One part of her mind panicked for a moment as it was already light outside, which meant that she had overslept and was coming to late to work. The panic turned into smug amusement when she remembered that her new work was now training to become a sword-master. A good feeling, so, humming a tuneless melody, she let in another bath and made a coffee.

‘I could get used to this., she thought as she was soaking again in warm water, drinking her coffee. Natalie had told her that they would either meet in Bacchus’ Barrel late at night or she would come and pick Cara up directly. Under normal circumstances such vague instructions would have made her nervous; right now she could live with it. She enjoyed having a free morning and afternoon. In the evening she would go to her club for a last regular training and tell Master Brumotti von Burg that she would be training with Natalie for a while and go to take part in a competition in half a years time. She hoped that Master Brumotti von Burg wouldn’t be too disappointed or angry with her. As she considered what she was planning to do, she started to feel slightly ashamed. She had accepted a new master before even consulting her last one. She slowly sank below the water’s surface until only her eyes were above the water line and she was producing a slow but steady stream of bubbles.

Well, it was all very sudden. And Natalie had not only saved her but also shown enormous skill. In the end her club would also benefit from her training, as everything she learned she would bring back and share with her fellows from the club. 

She reemerged from the water, the shame washed away, leaving only her determination. Her resolve fired her motivation and she got out of her bath, dried herself off, put on some clothes and started with her make-up for the day. Usually she would have gone for something subtle, especially on a Monday, but today she decided she would go for something fierce. 

After she had eaten she spend a couple of hours reading the manuscripts describing her art, finding new meaning in the words now that she had fought with Natalie and watched her use the old Liechtenauer style in a open duel. 

The new pictures that she painted in her mind made her increasingly twitchy, so that after a while she could not sit still any longer. Instead she moved the couch and the little table in her small living room out of the way to start putting her thoughts in motion.

Before she knew it, it was dark again. When she had a look at her watch she discovered that it was almost time to leave for the club. She hastily packed her things together. Of course now her backpack was suddenly full before she even had packed everything inside it. After a short deliberation, she pulled her sword out again, pressed the last pieces of her protective gear into it and carried her sword wrapped in one of her favourite cosy blankets in her hand. It felt really good to actually hold her sword while walking the streets.

Her training in the club consisted of footwork again. This time she moved with her sword in her hand. Master Brumotti von Burg asked her what that was supposed to mean, and Cara answered that the sword did have some weight and she needed to learn to move with the added bulk of the sword. Manfred wasn’t that convinced, telling her that she should get her basic movements ready first, then use the swords and then try to work her way to the basic movements. But then just waved her away and told her that she might as well walk her lanes with the sword.

Cara, for the first time, was bored during her training. The footwork felt mechanical and forced to her. But she decided to do her best. Which resulted in many corrections; she was dragging her feet even more than usual, the length of her steps was to variable, sometimes too long, sometimes too short, pretty much never right, she brought her feet too close together. Her positioning of her feet was wrong. The usual.

This time, Cara wondered why it was all wrong. She was told that all these things ruined her stability, but she had seen Natalie fight in a way that was far wilder than hers and the only time she had fallen hadn´t been because of her footwork.

In the second half of  training she was allowed to work on her basic attacks, which was a lot more fun, as all the advanced students and the teachers were now either sparing or coaching the students in free combat, while she and the other second tier students were left to their own devices. Cara chose the line closest to where the advanced class was training. 

As she moved along her fencing line, working on the perfect attack from above and below and the different stabs, she watched the advanced students. Noticing that once they entered free combat, their footwork changed dramatically and they did most of the same ‘errors’ that she was doing. Strange. But then, as Master Manfred always preached, you need to get it right first before you get to change the system to a style that suits the situation more. ‘That must be it…’, Cara thought, but there was something she didn’t understand. Everyone in her salle was fencing in a way the was completely different to what she had seen with Natalie and the lord-bishop.

When training was over she went to Master Manfred, who was still talking to two of his senior students. She waited respectfully until he was done, hoping that he would notice her at some point. 

When he had finished talking to the other students his gaze had passed right through Cara and he turned around, walking to the exit of the salle. 

“Master Brumotti von Burg”, Cara said.

Manfred just kept walking. Cara walked after him.

“Master Brumotti von Burg!”, she said, a bit louder this time. 

Manfred turned around, finally aware of her existence.

“What is it Cara?”

“I… er… I…”, Cara said.

“Hurry up Cara, I don’t have the whole night.”

“Well… er…”

Manfred started to turn away again.

“There is a master who wants to teach me, master Brumotti von Burg.”

“Is there…”, Manfred said, looking at her with his face mostly tired. “And who is that new ‘master’ of yours?”

“Master Natalie Laukkanen Lapointe.”, Cara said.

“Never heard of her”, said Manfred. “And what exactly does this plan entail?”

“She is going to take me in as her student full-time and train me in the old Liechtenauer tradition. So it would be in the same style as us.”

“Really…”, Manfred now smiled, “I like that. You are taking imitative and you need all the training you can get. But you will coming to your regular training too?”

“Er… probably not. At least not for the next few weeks. Na… Master Laukkanen Lapointe wants us to travel across Europe so I can train with different people…”

“Hmm… I think that is a good idea.”

“So I am allowed to train under her?”, Cara asked.

“Of course. I think intensive training under one tutor might be what you need to advance beyond a novice”, Manfred nodded, turned around and was about to leave.

“Er… I also want to take part in a tournament in six months time…?”

“That’s nice. It’s good that you have such a goal. As you know, it is only in tournaments where we find our true worth”, Manfred said, while walking out of the salle, never turning back to Cara, just waving a last time before leaving. 

Cara was beaming. She could not contain her enthusiasm, took her sword, raising it high over her head swinging it in big arcs and curves around her as she danced out of the salle.

She had a spring in her step when she walked back home through the dark. While she had packed her things properly this time, she still carried her sword in her hand, as there was not enough space in her backpack for both the sword and her blanket. However. it was dark, there was no one out in the streets and the sword was wrapped up tightly. Also it was a blunt black sword, she wasn’t doing anything illegal. 

It also just felt good and right to carry her sword in her hands. 

“Well, well, well”, said a voice behind her, “if that isn’t the lady who likes to play with swords.” 

Cara turned around, a few paces behind her was the young man who had attacked her with his friends a few days back. At least today he was alone. Today he was also carrying a sword. One glinting in the light of the street lanterns. A sharp one.

He was smiling a crooked smile while he moved close holding his sword in front of himself. 

“And there isn’t even your journeygirl friend with you. How sad. I would have liked to teach her a lesson too. But you will suffice. And don’t worry, you are so ugly, the scars I will give you will actually improve that thing you call a face…”

Cara moved slowly back, she undid the clasps of her backpack, letting it slide to the floor. She used it to block the man’s way. As he moved over it, his grin growing broader with every step, she moved away onto the street; mostly to have more space to move. She wanted to unwrap her sword, but the man was too close for that. She could not take her eyes from him for even one second.

She had not even finished that thought when he jumped her, sword held high above his head crashing down on her. She blocked that strike, still trying to find a way to comfortably hold her sword. 

What followed was a powerful strike from the right, then from the left. She blocked both, buckling under the force of the impact. While she should have been fearing for her life, in that moment she was mostly appalled by the damage the attacks were doing to her favourite blanket. ‘I’m sorry Miss Snuggles…”, she thought, her fear slowly turning into indignation. That man was a total and utter arsehole.

The total and utter arsehole was gaining ground though. While he had yet to mange to push past Cara’s defence, his attacks kept raining onto Cara from the left and right, with unbroken speed and force. 

Cara was glad that she had chosen the middle of the street for this confrontation, as it gave her ample space to retreat. She had hoped that someone might be looking out of a window, or maybe a car or a bike might come their way. The witness then would hopefully call the church militia. But she had no such luck. Miss Snuggles had now many deep cuts and the arseholes sword was starting to make contact with her black sword. Now her indignation was finally turning to fear, as she realised that if this kept up it would not only be her favourite blanket that would end up cut into ribbons.

Right as she was about to panic, she remembered one thing Natalie had told her during their long training the other day. 

“When you are fencing, let go of your base emotions. They are your natural instincts, they are there to protect you, but when you hold a sword, you are no longer working with what nature has given you; you are now using the art. Trust the art, it will protect you. Don’t mind your opponent. Visualise the Path in front of you and move forward along the Path towards the Liechtenauer. I have simple mantra, when I am getting to worked up during a fight…”

“There is no fear, no anger, no greed”, Cara remembered, “there is only the Path.” She kept mouthing the words, they were easier said than done. But they worked. 

As arsehole kept raining attacks on her, she began to notice that he just kept repeating the same pattern over and over again. Too hard and too fast for her to counter, especially as he was using a sharp. But this helped her calm down, remembering another bit Natalie had taught her. “When you get attacked, try to see where the force of the attack comes from. Then either don’t be where their force is going or stand position yourself against it in a  way that all the force from your opponent´s blow flows through you into the ground. Then it’s not you anymore he is trying to overcome. but the planet below you.”

With every following attack, Cara repositioned herself a bit more, catching the blows further down the strength of her sword, the force of the strikes passing through her arms and body down her legs into the ground. Suddenly the strikes didn’t seem that strong anymore.

Even arsehole noticed this. He changed his pattern a bit and began hammering Cara from the left. One strike after another. This was much harder to stop and her form began to crumble again. After an especially ferocious blow, Cara´s stance sank slightly. Now she had to actively push against the strike again and began to waver. 

Arsehole laughed. “Yeah, that happens when girls pretend that they can win against men in a men’s sport. In the end you are just too weak.”

‘…don’t be were their force is going…´, Natalie’s voice echoed through Cara’s mind again. She remembered, how during the duel Natalie had deflected the lord-bishop’s attack by turning her sword away from him, redirecting his attack.

Cara now did the same. Arsehole was trying to push past her blade into her face. Cara stepped a bit to the right, turning her sword over, covering her side. Arsehole’s weapon slid down Cara’s blade. As he was falling forward she straightened her stance, moving forwards, ramming the pommel of her sword into arseholes face.

His eyes wide in shock, his nose erupted in a fountain of blood as he slowly keeled over backwards. 

Cara blinked, looked at the pommel of her sword, then at the crumpled heap in front of her. Still a bit shocked by this sudden turn of events, she pulled the sleeping arse onto the side walk, shoved him into the recovery position, got her backpack and continued on her way to Bacchus’ Barell.

“I won…”