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Chapter Three The five days Baigan mentioned passed far too slowly for Kain's liking, and when they were over, there was still no word from the Captain. While passing through the castle halls the next day, Kain did catch a glimpse of him, but he appeared to be in a hurry, and only spared a nod and a smile for the anxious young man. That was enough, though. Baigan seemed to be offering a ray of hope, and Kain focused on that as he returned to his quarters and began to polish his father's armor. Though he was still young, he was tall enough that the armor was not unbearably large for him, or at least he suspected. He would not give in to his urges and try it on. If he did, he would seem little more than a child playing dress-up in his father's clothes. He would not wear the armor, not even once, until he'd earned the right to. Another week passed with no word from Baigan. Cecil and Rosa asked him every day if there had been news, and every day he shook his head. Cecil, on the other hand, had signed up as a candidate for the new Dark Knight division as Baigan had suggested, and was doing well in the rigorous tests they put him through. Many of the younger recruits were tossed out within the first few days, as well as some of the older ones, but Cecil excelled in his swordplay and endurance. Soon enough, he was one of the heads of the division despite his age, and was required to wear the black tunic befitting his station. The jealousy Kain had felt before returned with even more bitterness, and to combat it, he suggested to Cecil that the two of them spar together in the afternoons. Cecil's sword was no match for Kain's spear, even though the two were just practice weapons, and Kain defeated him time and time again as Rosa watched. Cecil admitted defeat and laughed it off, and Kain tried to as well, but deep in his heart he felt a sense of satisfaction every time he struck a "fatal" blow to his friend. I'm a better fighter than he is, he thought to himself. If we were on opposite sides for real, I would kill him easily. So why is it that he is getting a ranking military position offered to him, while I have to wait and hope? Finally, one afternoon Cecil changed the practice bouts. "Can you use a sword this time?" he asked Kain. "Why would I do that?" "I'm no match for you when you have a spear," Cecil said with a grin. "That's obvious. You used to use a sword occasionally, though. You were very good at it." "I only used the sword because we were children," Kain pointed out. "Harmless wooden swords are easy enough to come by, but a spear made of wood could be as deadly as one with a real head. You know I always preferred the Dragoons' weapon." "Yes, but I'm tired of you killing me," Cecil commented. "Want to see if you can take me with more than one weapon?" The words sounded like a challenge to Kain's envious mind, and he nodded grimly. "Fine, I will." Once he'd gone through the practice swords, finding one that was a proper weight for him, he joined Cecil in the roped off area in the courtyard, the same place where he'd put on a fine show for Baigan only days before. The two young men faced each other, nodded, and dropped to their battle stances, watching each other's eyes for an indication of when the first move would be made. Cecil's eyes were calm, if prepared, and Kain could see no hint of his friend's strategy there. That was odd... it must have been something they were teaching him in that Dark Knight division. Since he couldn't tell, Kain made the first move, aiming a shot for his friend's left knee, but Cecil parried firmly and countered with a blow aimed for Kain's head. Kain brought his sword up just in time to block, unused to having something so short to work with. Cecil didn't stop there, and swung at Kain's torso, and their wooden swords met again with a sharp crack. The two of them circled each other, moving back and forth through the clouds of dust they were kicking up as one of them advanced or retreated, but Cecil was the one doing all the attacking. Kain had his hands full simply defending against Cecil's quick blows, with no time for thoughts of offense. After a few minutes of this stalemate, Cecil was breathing heavily, but his eyes were still calm, showing no signs of his intentions. Kain, on the other hand, was growing steadily more frustrated and angry. Finally he got fed up, and ignored Cecil's attacks as he swung a wild blow at Cecil's right arm. Wood met flesh with an unhealthy crunching sound, and Cecil gasped as his hand spasmed. It only threw him off for a second though, and he switched his sword to his left hand. Now Kain had a distinct advantage, since he was left-handed anyway. The steady look in Cecil's eyes was gone as well; apparently the blow to his arm had shattered his concentration. Now his eyes were troubled, filled with pain. Kain spent no time pitying him, however, and lunged straight for Cecil's heart. Cecil stepped aside, bashing his sword clumsily against Kain's as he passed, knocking him slightly off balance. Kain barely had time to bring it upright again before Cecil struck down at him, his sword stopping Cecil's just before it struck his head. Cecil wasted no time and swung his sword back around for a low blow, knocking Kain off his feet. In under a second, the blunt tip was pointed at Kain's throat. Around the edges of the courtyard, a few cheers arose from the other men who had stopped practicing to watch the match. Some wore the black tunic like Cecil's, indicating they were Dark Knights in training. Of course they would cheer him on, Kain thought, disgusted with his loss. His eyes widened in disbelief as he saw a man in a red coat watching from behind the ropes. Baigan. Today, of all days. The one day he lost. Cecil dropped the practice sword in the dust next to Kain and clutched his injured arm as Rosa rushed to his side. "I heard that crunch from the sidelines," she said nervously. "Oh, are you all right?" "I think it's fractured," Cecil replied, wincing. "I'll go get a white wizard," Rosa said, running off without so much as a word for Kain. Cecil, however, smiled bravely at his friend, and offered him his good hand. "It's been a long time since I had an even bout like that," he said. "Thanks for indulging me." Kain waved his hand away and stood up on his own. "Sorry about your arm," he muttered. "These things happen sometimes, don't worry about it," Cecil assured him. "It'll be fine as soon as Rosa gets back." "Kain, Cecil." They turned to see Baigan striding towards them, through the dust stirred up by their fight. "That was quite a match," the man commented. "I've not seen a match as close as that for ages - at least not between two well-trained warriors. You both did splendidly, and I must congratulate you, Cecil, on your victory." "Thank you, Captain," Cecil said with a salute. Kain nodded dully. "Baron is fortunate to have two such skilled fighters on our side," Baigan continued. "Which, by the way, is why I'm here today. Kain, come with me to the War Room, will you?" Kain froze. "Uh... yes, of course." Could it be...? A broad smile came across Cecil's face as he came to the same conclusion. "Good luck," he whispered as Kain passed, heading after Baigan. On their way back into the castle halls, they were nearly run down by Rosa and the white wizard she'd found, but Kain didn't care. All thoughts of the recent fight completely vanished from his mind, replaced by a single thought. I'm going to be a Dragoon. © 1999 by Andrea Hartmann. |
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