Ren led them through town, and Brandt seized the opportunity to ask the questions he hadn’t had anyone to ask. Ren was the first Falari who spoke imperial they’d had any time with. Ren told them the town was larger than most, and that not all Falari lived in towns. Many, it seemed, preferred a more nomadic life in the mountains, far closer to what Brandt had originally envisioned.
Children played in the street. Some games seemed familiar. In one, children chased and tried to tackle one child holding a ball. Whenever the ball was dropped or forced out, another child would pick it up and become the target of all. Then they turned a corner and saw two youths, a boy and a girl, squaring off against one another, short wooden practice swords in hand. Brandt stopped to watch them.
The boy had the edge in size, but after the first pass it was clear the girl’s speed surpassed her opponent’s. Three passes later the boy had three new bruises to show for his efforts. Ren excused himself and approached the pair, offering advice to both. The children listened attentively and nodded as he spoke.
Ana spoke softly. “Physicality and combat appear to be at the heart of most of their games.”
Brandt nodded. His own thoughts ran in the same direction.
Ren returned and led them to the ground floor of a larger building. They stepped into the largest space Brandt had seen in town. Its polished floors and weapons-laden walls made its purpose perfectly clear.
Behind them, Brandt heard the sound of dozens of young voices. He turned to see a small army of children running toward the training hall. Ren smiled. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited guests.”
Brandt stood speechless as the children piled in. Each put a fist to their heart as they entered the space. They took spaces along a wall without a whisper. For all the rambunctious behavior Brandt had observed on the way here, he couldn’t imagine a more disciplined group inside the training hall. They made the imperial military seem lax in comparison.
“Shall we begin?” Ren asked.
Ana stepped forward. “I’ll be your first opponent.”
Brandt appreciated the gesture. Though he no longer suspected a trap, having Ana go first allowed him to observe Ren’s style. It gave him the space to decide how much of his own skill to display to the swordsman.
Ana selected a practice sword from the wall, testing its weight. When she was satisfied, she met Ren in the center of the room. Brandt stood alone against a wall opposite the children. They looked as interested in the outcome of this fight as he was, if not more so.
From the fight against Regar, Brandt assumed this match would be close. Ren raised his fist to heart and Ana returned the gesture.
Then the match began, and Brandt’s assumption proved correct. Ren was skilled, and fast.
He’d also been holding back against Regar. Brandt realized that fact after two passes.
If Ana was surprised, she didn’t show it. Practice swords met and broke apart, each combatant seeking an opening.
Brandt should have watched Ren, but he found his gaze drawn to Ana. Her martial arts had improved considerably over the past few years. When they were wolfblades, Ana had been plenty skilled, but a certain timidity had held her back. With her water affinity she often found herself in supporting roles on their missions.
Landow had changed her.
Her lithe body evaded Ren’s cuts, her own sword darting at him like an angry snake, forcing him back.
Now she fought with confidence.
Not the false confidence of a guaranteed victory, but the confidence that came from knowing exactly what she was capable of.
The swords clacked together. Brandt saw how Ana manipulated her internal energies. When she needed speed, she became light. But when she needed strength her lightness vanished and she rooted her feet to the ground.
The technique was risky, and almost impossible to perform consistently. One mistake, one lapse in focus, and she was just as likely to hurt herself as Ren.
The duel continued. Brandt saw the openings he’d exploit when he and Ren met.
If Ana let the Falari warrior stand.
Eventually the two fighters broke apart. Brandt hadn’t kept track of touches, but he’d seen both warriors make contact with the other. They repeated the fists-to-heart gesture and the wall of children erupted in cheers.
Ren spoke to the children in Falari. Though Brandt couldn’t understand the words, he recognized a lesson when he saw one. Ren spoke with the cadence of a practiced teacher.
Beside him, Ana was beaming from ear to ear. Sweat poured off her, but she hadn’t looked so happy in days. “He was still holding back. He’s good.”
Brandt nodded. He’d wondered as much. “You fought well.”
Brandt watched his wife as she brushed the sweat from her eyes. At that moment he wanted nothing more than a private space and time alone with her. Sober, this time.
But that wasn’t to be, at least not for a while.
Ren welcomed him to the floor. Like Ana, Brandt searched for a wooden sword he felt most familiar with.
Brandt considered how best to approach the duel. Knowing the Falari respect for warriors, he decided not to hold back.
Their first pass ended in a heartbeat. Ren came in with a quick but light cut. Brandt knocked it off line and stabbed at Ren’s heart, scoring the first touch.
Ren was surprised, but not offended. His own smile grew as he understood Brandt didn’t intend to restrain himself.
They met again. As Ana had predicted, Ren had been holding back. He was faster and stronger than he’d shown against Ana.
It made no difference.
Brandt scored again and again. Ren couldn’t match his strength, speed, and accuracy, and years of daily practice allowed Brandt to know exactly when to move and where to strike. The duel ended quickly, but this time there were no cheers. The students sat openmouthed along the wall.
Ren chuckled as he brought his fist to his heart. “If the empire was filled
