Sword drills had become Tal's greatest pleasure. He was beginning to spend as much time at Ferrick's studio in the Warehouse District as he did at the Wide Realms, though it was in the playhouse that he choreographed endless fight scenes in anticipation that Quickly would put them in one of her plays. His creations were equal parts fighting and fancy, and his fellow students would surely sneer to see them.
While he did not share the scrupulous ideals of his fellows, Tal tried to ensure that the stage fencing was as plausible as possible. Sometimes he went too far, and Quickly chided him for making it so realistic that it was boring to watch. What was exciting to do, he realized, was not always exciting to show.
The students who had seen his performances at the Wide Realms used to scoff at Tal's showy technique, but fewer were scoffing lately. Since the month of Ches Tal had challenged his way out of the middle ranks and into fourth place among Ferrick's students. His three-month rise won him both admirers and rivals, and he reveled in the praise and scorn alike. In truth, he had never much liked most of his peers. Like his brother, Tamlin, most young nobles were more concerned with fashion and gossip than skill at arms.
One of the few exceptions was Radu Malveen. He rarely spoke to the other students, a reticence usually attributed to his family's questionable past. Tal thought of him as self-sufficient rather than haughty, though he sympathized with the family history.
The Malveens were still on the recovery after their involvement with pirates cost them the head of the household, Velanna Malveen, as well as her eldest son. A similar catastrophe would have obliterated House Uskevren but for Thamalon's tireless efforts to restore both the wealth and the reputation of his family. Even so, all of the Uskevren had been subjected to subtle reminders from their peers that theirs was a lineage on which the shadow of villainy still fell. How much worse would it have been for Radu, had he dared to engage his peers socially. Far better to remain apart from them, thought Tal, who had his own reasons for avoiding his peers.
Tal imagined that he and Radu were similar in other ways. Radu's younger brother was a notorious wastrel, not entirely unlike Tamlin except for his reputation as an eccentric artist. His bizarre paintings were notorious for their unsettling abstractions, which naturally put them in high demand among the art-conscious nobles of Selgaunt. Laskar, the eldest of the Malveen brothers, had a reputation for integrity and fair dealing that rivaled that of Tal's father. Tal imagined that he must be equally insufferable to Radu.
'Armor and masks,' commanded Master Ferrick. As his students complied, he clasped his bronzed hands behind his back and gazed out the window toward the bay.
Tal grabbed a pair of towels and tossed one to Radu, who caught it neatly and without acknowledgement.
'Did you have a good journey?' said Tal.
Radu raised an eyebrow.
'You were away on business, I heard,' said Tal, hoping to strike up a conversation. 'I hope it went well.'
Radu pressed the towel to the back of his neck, where his long black hair descended in a simple braid. Tal noticed that Radu perspired very little.
'It is concluded,' said Radu.
'Say,' ventured Tal, 'I've been meaning to thank you for your advice.'
Radu raised one eyebrow and awaited an explanation.
'About my fencing,' said Tal. 'You remember, last winter. I was clowning around with Chaney, and you reminded me of the difference between stage fencing and real fighting.'
Radu said nothing while he donned a thin white tunic and his padded armor, but Tal could see that he remembered the conversation. At the time, Radu refused even to practice with him until Tal demonstrated more respect for the dueling circle.
'Well,' said Tal, his easy manner faltering in the face of Radu's indifference, 'I took it to heart, and it's helped- both here and at the playhouse.' He shrugged on his own armor.
'Good,' said Radu.
Without invitation, Tal secured the straps on the back of Radu's armor, then turned to receive the same help.
'Who knows?' said Tal. 'If I win today, maybe I'll be ready to challenge you in a month or two?'
'Who knows?' said Radu. He made a brief smile, but it never reached his eyes.
Master Ferrick called the students to the circle for the challenges. There were sixteen in this, the most advanced class. While they sometimes drilled with the less experienced fencers, challenges were the exclusive province of those who had proven themselves.
'First challenge,' called Ferrick. 'Talbot Uskevren and Perron Karn.'
Tal stood on the outer ring, while the defender took the center. Perron was Tal's second cousin on his mother's side, a stout man of thirty-four years. His reddish beard curled up on all sides, giving him the appearance of a man caught in a sudden gust of wind.
The swordsmen bowed to Master Ferrick, then saluted each other before donning their masks.
'Begin!'
Both advanced at once, Tal shifting left while Perron cut at his legs. Tal parried and feigned a high thrusting riposte. Perron ignored the bogus attack and cut at Tal's wrist, forcing Tal to open his upper right guard. Perron's blade darted toward Tal's shoulder, but Tal let his knees sag and rapped Perron on the elbow.
'Challenger's point,' announced Ferrick.
Perron rubbed his elbow. It had been a smart blow, harder than necessary. Beneath his mask, Tal smiled.
'Mind your control, Talbot,' warned Ferrick.
Tal's grin vanished, and his face flushed hot. He already knew he could defeat Perron. What he wanted now was to make the man concede or to win a perfect round, but all he had managed was to earn a rebuke in front of the entire class. Worst of all, he'd done it in front of Radu Malveen, whom he'd wanted to impress.
'Begin!'
Tal's mind had drifted, and he was not prepared for the second pass. Perron's vertical cut forced Tal's blade down against his mask and pressed hard. As Tal pushed back with all his strength, Perron stepped back and executed a perfect horizontal stroke across Tal's padded chest.
'Two points defender,' declared Ferrick, holding one finger toward Tal and two toward Perron. A growl rose from Tal's chest, causing Ferrick to give him a questioning glance. Tal set his jaw and took his place, focusing on his opponent.
'Begin!'
Tal rushed forward and beat Perron's weapon aside, then smashed it again as Perron brought it back in line. He made no attempt to move beyond Perron's guard, only to batter it from all directions. At last, Perron saw the flaw in Tal's attack-there was no attempt to guard low. He faded back and slashed at Tal's knees.
Which was exactly what Tal had been expecting.
Tal leaped over the sweeping blade and struck the top of Perron's mask. The blow made a resounding crack.
The other students stifled their laughter, but Tal saw hands fly up to cover smiles. Only Radu and Master Ferrick seemed unimpressed.
Perron was already in position on the middle ring. Tal took his place. Ferrick pointed his fingers, three and two. 'Begin!'
Tal expected Perron to be more cautious this time, but the older man surprised him with a quick, feinting advance. Tal parried and retreated, concentrating on defense. Perron persisted with a steady stream of careful thrusts at Tal's wrist and arm. As long as Perron's attacks remained so modest, Tal had to maintain his own defense.
Perron suddenly shifted to a flurry of high cuts. When Tal deflected them and riposted with a thrust, Perron beat Tal's blade so hard it struck the floor. His own sword nearly found its target before Tal recovered with an awkward full-center parry.
Tal nearly laughed. Perron wasn't a small man, but he couldn't beat Tal in a contest of strength. Still, if that was how he wanted it…
Tal met the next attack with his own, lunging forward even as Perron came at him. The wooden blades cracked as they came together. The top foot of Tal's snapped away, and the splintered remainder ran through
