Book I of III: The Swords of the Sultan (11 page)

For lying on the ground near the torch’s
light, there was what appeared to be a body—crumpled and unmoving.
Even though Baltor’s eyes began to flood with tears of grief,
something else inside of him raged as he strongly suspected that
the body below was Vakshia!

As there was no way for him to drop the
distance down to the ground, and then climb back up the smooth face
of the valley to get back to the rope, he reluctantly climbed his
way back up to the top.

He untied the rope, rolled it back up, looped
it over his shoulder and eliminated all footprints as he made his
way back to the supply room.

While lying in bed and trying to fall to
sleep, he resolved to find out for sure the following night after
training was over and everybody asleep. However, sleep did not come
for a long while.

The following morning, about an hour after
training had begun, Humonus only then began to tell that something
was bothering his student by the slightly furled expression etched
on the boy’s forehead, the dark shadows under his eyes, and most
importantly, he wasn’t as eager-and-focused to learn as he normally
was.

The drill instructor asked, “Baltor, are you
okay?”

While unconsciously looking away to his right
and down to the ground, the boy answered, “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t lie to me,” the drill instructor
countered, bearing a very suspicious look upon his face.

Baltor looked back up and over with an even
expression and then confessed with a yawn, “Well, maybe I’m just a
little tired, is all. I didn’t sleep so good last night, sir.”

Sounding convinced, the drill instructor
said, “Oh—that hits us all every now and then, but what I’m going
to need from you is for you to be fully awake and alert, especially
before we recommence.”

With a shrug and a nod, he asked, “Would you
like to take a fifteen-minute break, and perhaps get a drink of
water?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy answered. He then began
to stretch, all the while taking his sweet time in getting to the
lunch table.

Several minutes later, he arrived at the
table and poured himself a full mug of water, drinking most of it
down in one swoop. With the remaining bit of water still in the
mug, he splashed it onto his hands and then onto his face.

He next grabbed an orange off the lunch
table, peeled it, ate it, and then picked up and peeled a banana.
While chewing on that, he turned around and saw that Humonus was
nowhere in sight.

Just after Baltor had made his way back to
the weapons rack, all the while looking around, he confirmed his
drill instructor wasn’t to be seen anywhere in the cavern. He sat
down on the ground.

A minute later, he saw Humonus walking out of
the supply room. Hobbling beside him, using a cane, was an old man
who had a long, gray beard and wrinkly skin. His one-colored outfit
consisted of a light-gray skullcap and flowing robes, along with a
ton of colorful jewelry, ranging from jeweled rings to dozens of
glittery necklaces. As the two men were speaking in hushed tones,
the boy could not hear their words.

Due to Baltor’s late-night excursions and his
borrowing supplies from the supply room without asking, he
instantly began to worry that they might have been talking about
the missing torches.

He decided otherwise upon seeing the old man
warmly pat Humonus on the shoulder, while saying with a slight
shrill, “It was so good to see you again after all this time, my
young friend…”

Humonus replied warmly, “And it was good to
see you as well, Master Lupan. By the way, this is my new student,
Baltor.”

Lupan gave the up-down look at Baltor, and
with quite a bit of enthusiasm, he shrilled, “You’ve got the best
instructor out of the bunch…you know? After all, he got instructed
by the best! You know by who, right? Me!”

With that, both he and Humonus began to
chuckle with quite a bit of merriment: Not surprisingly, Lupan
cackled like an old man.

Even though Baltor did not laugh, nor was he
amused, there was instead a very impressed look on his face. After
delivering a low bow, which is what caused the chuckling to stop,
he looked directly into Lupan’s eyes before saying, “Thank you for
revealing that information, Master Lupan. It truly is an honor to
meet the instructor of my instructor, sir!”

Lupan looked over to Humonus, and then he
replied with a laugh, “
Ha!
This kid’s going places.”

Humonus responded at first nonchalantly,
“Perhaps…but he’s still got a whole hell of a long way to go first,
sir!” Amusement filled his voice as he made that second
statement.

Both Lupan and Humonus began to laugh
heartily to the inside joke. In the same moment, Baltor looked over
at his drill instructor in surprise because this man rarely ever
cracked a smile, but noticed that he was now looking at Lupan and
still laughing.

Perhaps five seconds later, Lupan’s gaze had
just fallen back onto the boy, just before he stopped laughing and
said, “Well, I must be off—errands to run. You gentlemen have a
nice day.” He then began to leave.

After bowing low, Humonus pivoted his whole
body to face his student, and then he asked, “Are you fully awake
now, Baltor?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Excellent,” the drill instructor replied.
“Now I want you to take those two long swords off the rack I’m
pointing at, and then I want you to show me all rolls, blocks and
strikes while holding on to them securely the whole time.”

“Yes, sir!” After locating and picking up the
steely swords, the boy demonstrated all that Humonus had requested,
all the while holding onto the weapons securely. Baltor finally
looked at his instructor, who was silently observing him.

A few moments later, the drill instructor
said with a smile, “Well, Baltor, you just passed the last basic
test to my level of satisfaction—congratulations! Put them swords
away and come back.”

“Thank you, sir… Done, sir.”

That smile instantly erased as the drill
instructor taught, “The time has come for me to begin to train you
in the advanced stages of fighting; and from here on out things
will get very complicated and technical. At first, just like with
the basic stages, we will practice solely with hand-to-hand. Later,
we will incorporate weapons into the mix! Are you not only ready
and awake, yet enthusiastic?”

Sounding very enthusiastic, the boy snapped
out, “Yes, sir!”

“Ok—the way to best your opponent is by
causing him to become unbalanced from his attack, and then to use
that very attack to your advantage. Throw a slow punch at me, and
I’ll show you what I mean.”

As Baltor threw a slow punch with his right
hand, Humonus slowly twisted his own body ninety degrees until he
was on his own right side, and then he grabbed the wrist of
Baltor’s fully extended fist with both of his own hands.

The drill instructor ordered, “Stop.” Baltor
did.

“Observe as I ever-so-lightly yank your body
the direction you were throwing your punch until the moment your
feet become unbalanced. Watch as I twist your wrist wide around in
front of me. Now, because you threw a punch with your right fist, I
shall twist to my right. In seconds, you will find your body forced
to the ground and you will be completely defenseless. Ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

A second later, the student found his body
slowly forced to the ground; and a second after that, his face
burrowed harder and harder into the hard cavern floor, which
quickly became an uncomfortable experience for Baltor.

Not only did the drill instructor still have
a firm grip on Baltor’s majorly twisted-up wrist, yet he still
stood on his feet right over his student, though the student was
not aware of this trivial fact.

Baltor heard Humonus say, “For the purposes
of learning and understanding, you will feel only a tiny sliver of
the pain that’s involved as I twist your wrist only a fraction of
an inch more… Imagine how much worse it would hurt if I twisted but
a fraction farther?”

Without waiting for an answer, the drill
instructor twisted his student’s wrist that fraction. Because of
the agonizingly sharp pains that erupted throughout the boy’s left
arm and shoulder, he yelped aloud!

Though the drill instructor did not release
his grip, he did loosen three fractions. The first fraction caused
the agonizing pain to not be so agonizing. The second fraction
still kept him immobile but in a painless state. The third fraction
even allowed his student a bit of mobility, which allowed him to
turn his head around until he was looking up at his drill
instructor.

Once Humonus saw that his student was looking
at him, he continued with his lesson, “As you can now see, with my
other free hand, I can punch you in the head as many times as I
want, or kick you in the gut just as many times. Or, as you just
experienced, simply keep on twisting.”

After the drill instructor released the hold,
he added, “One more thing about this defensive technique—it is
effective against both punches, and even hands bearing weapons. So
long as you grab and yank the wrist before the moment of your
opponent’s strike!”

As Baltor stood back onto his feet, he
replied while moving around his stiff arm, “Yes, sir!”

The drill instructor continued, “Now I’m
going to throw a slow punch at you, and I want you to try the move
on me.” Slowly, he threw a punch with his left hand.

Baltor twisted his body the ninety degrees,
until he was on Humonus’s left side. Even though he had immediately
grabbed his drill instructor’s extended wrist with both hands, as
well twisted that wrist widely around in front of him with both
hands, his drill instructor strangely did not end up on the
ground.

Moreover, not only was Humonus able to break
free of the grip, he launched an upward kick that stopped an inch
of hitting Baltor’s gut. A second later, he set his foot back onto
the ground.

“What am I doing wrong, sir?”

“The first thing you do after you grab my
wrist,” the drill instructor answered, “is to lightly yank it,
which will cause me to become unbalanced—after all, when your
opponent is unbalanced, you can do anything.”

After taking a deep breath through just his
nose, he then ordered, “Let’s try that again.” Right away, he
slowly launched his punch, this time with his right hand.

Meanwhile, the student twisted his body
ninety degrees to his instructor’s right side, caught the wrist
with both of his hands, and then lightly yanked upon his drill
instructor’s still-extending fist.

The student then twisted that wrist to the
right with both of his hands, until his drill instructor’s face had
buried itself into the floor, and the student was standing on top
and in control.

Lying on the ground face down, the drill
instructor commanded, “Stop!”

Baltor did.

Humonus ordered, “When I tell you to go
ahead, in just a few seconds, slowly twist just a bit more, but
only a fraction. As soon as I tap the ground repeatedly with my
free hand, then that means that you are to loosen your grip, but do
not let go, okay?”

“Yes, sir!”

Baltor must have accidentally twisted a
fraction or two too much, for Humonus howled out in pain while
slapping his hand repeatedly into the ground very hard and
snapping, “
Owww
, damn it—let go!”

The boy immediately let go. “Sorry, sir!”

Humonus stood back up to his feet, and as he
began to rub his sore shoulder, he said with exasperation, “Damn
that hurt—I said a fraction!”

“Sorry, sir—I swear I’ll only go a fraction
next time!”

“Ensure that you do, boy, or I might commence
to whooping on you the next time.”

Baltor gulped.

Several moments later, the drill instructor
stopped rubbing his no longer achy shoulder, and then he continued,
“There’s a similar technique to the one I just taught you, but this
time, you will twist the wrist the other direction with both hands.
This will minimally slam his back, possibly his head, hard onto the
ground!”

They spent the next hour and a half very
slowly going over this second technique.

Besides these two advanced techniques, Baltor
learned one more that morning, which simply consisted of grabbing
the opponent’s thumb and then twisting it around like a joystick,
which literally made the opponent’s entire body roll the direction
the joystick moved! Baltor was quite amused by this last
technique.

Before lunch, the drill instructor promised
that he had dozens of advanced techniques to teach; but instead of
teaching his student any more after lunch, they spent the rest of
the day practicing the first three techniques and always in slow
motion.

At the end of the day, he commended his
student with, “Good job today.”

“Thank you, sir!”

“Tomorrow morning, I have several finger,
hand and wrist stretches and exercises that I’m going to be
teaching to you and from then on, you will be incorporating these
movements into your morning routine, but only on an every-other-day
basis…

“These exercises will not only help you to
develop enough speed and power to effectively utilize any advanced
technique against your quickest and most powerful of opponents, yet
furthermore, they will drastically improve your own fighting skills
with weapons…

“Why is the wrist just as important as the
hand, you may be asking? Because the hand simply clutches the
weapon—the wrist guides its direction and movement!”

“Yes, sir!”

Humonus said, “Oh—one last thing before I let
you go for the day. Once you have finished learning most of the
advanced techniques I know, I will then teach you the final and
hardest step—learning how to re-unite your body as a whole. How
much time all this takes is entirely up to you.”