Daniel in Distress [part 1]

Daniel in Distress [part 1]

I twirled about, letting my arm adjust to the clunky piece of junk in my hand before I started my real dancing. Sure; it was much rougher and unrefined than my usual weapons of grace, but one never knew what they would have to be prepared for; and a myrmidon should be able to dance the same with a katana as a broadsword or a stick. No matter what I was given, I needed to be able to find my balance and defend myself.

Still, the clunky weight of the sword I now held made it hard to find balance. It didn’t feel like an extension of my arm; it felt like a bag of rocks attacked to a stick. How in the world did knights manage with these things?

It took several tries before I “found the soul of the sword.” Basically, it meant before I found it’s balance and limitations and figured out what I needed to do to compensate for the extra weight. Though I knew that few swordsmen, myrmidon or knight, could accomplish the feet of delivering blows with suck a bulky sword one-handed, I was disappointed in myself. If I had taken that long to figure it out in a real battle, I would be headless by now.

Inside my mind, I imagined an enemy at my own skill level; something I knew every tiny flaw and limitation of well enough to be able to fight myself. I danced with her for a time, stringing together random yet natural series’ of blows for both of my selves.

Duck, foot sweep, back flip, side stroke, twirl, other side… The dance continued for a time - though I have no idea how long of one - before I finally collapsed of exhaustion; unable to land more blows on my imaginary opponent than she on me. As always, my comprehension of my skill and limitations was spot on.

I just laid there for a few minutes; panting. I had no idea where I was or when. Not that I ever did; being a wandering myrmidon just out of apprenticeship and not skilled enough to land a permanent job or anything that could raise enough money to support myself in a home.

Instead; I wandered the world as a mercenary; with no real purpose but to develop my skill until I could support myself off of my sword.

After I had gathered enough energy to sit up, I sheathed the broadsword. On my other hip rested three katanas; two lightweight and one leaded for more powerful blows. I would sell the broadsword in the next town; most likely, but the three katanas were there to stay. They were my pride and joy; crafted by the finest blacksmith in the kingdom. They were definitely worth more than fifty broadswords like the one I had acquired. They were probably worth more than even I would be, were I to be sold into slavery.

However, they did have gold inlay on the crosspiece and hilts, as well as pearl and some odd gemstones I never had been able to identify, no mater how many jewelers I paid to them. But it wasn’t the lavish decorations on the hilt and crosspiece that made it such a valued sword, but their design. All three could slice clean through a tree thick as me when they were dull, made of some of the strongest and lightest steel available and felt like an extension of your arm, no kidding. I’ve heard many say that about their sword, but never held one that held so true to the claim as mine.

I pulled out one of the lighter ones, which I didn’t have to check to know was either one of the two with the hilts angled forward. After another minute of thought, I unsheathed the second one with my other hand. And without a second thought, I entered into my second dance effortlessly, not taking more than a second to readjust my consciousness to the swords. I knew by heart exactly where and how the souls of these two swords lay without having to think.

This dance was not as long as the first, but much more difficult. I had mastered the art of my three swords so well that it was near impossible to survive the barrage of attacks. I didn’t dance until I fainted, but I was panting by the time I landed a solid blow on my side. I was content with that. Though I made a note to work on my side block.

I replaced my swords in their sheathes and sat down, thinking of a new enemy, one not exactly equal to me in skill or style. My next adversary; one that would fall if I had to dance all night.

And I was prepared to do so, making sure it would be as if a real battle, neither side advantaged further than if I were to ever encounter my opponent in a non-imaginary battle.