How My Fresh Start Began (2)

“Too soon for you, son. Come back in a year or two.”

The knight in charge of recruitment was pacing back and forth in front of the waiting applicants, picking some to dismiss one at a time, seemingly at random.

He drew close and stood, staring at the applicant next to me for an uncomfortable period without speaking, then waved her away. “Work on your confidence and try again.”

The countess’s order could afford to be selective like this because her knights rarely chose to retire and their injury rate during ordinary deployments was low. The war was long since over, so there was no need to recruit warm bodies just to replenish the ranks. They had their pick of the best candidates and plenty of time to train them.

The knight took a few steps back and shouted. “Alright, you punks! Form two lines opposite each other, standing eight paces apart from your neighbors, and await my orders.”

He nodded, seeing how we quickly split up into two groups and rearranged ourselves to ensure every applicant had a partner in the opposing group. “Exactly what I want to see!”

He pointed to an applicant at random. “You there, what do you think comes next?”

The young man blinked in confusion, and then announced his guess in a quiet voice, “I suppose we’ll be sparring, sir?”

“That’s right! But next time, I expect a prompt and loud response! Can you all handle that?”

The assembled crowd responded in unison. “Yes sir!”

“I assume you came prepared with real blades suitable for a battlefield, but if you don’t have one, raise your hand and we’ll supply a weapon! This is not a beginners’ session with wooden swords, so if you’re afraid of getting cut, bow out now!” Six of the applicants raised their hands, most of them obviously commoners who couldn’t afford a weapon of their own. Hopefully they had managed to practice sufficiently despite that.

“The commoners gathered here may think you have no chance against a spoiled brat with an heirloom sword and twenty years of instruction under their belt. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re all trash until you prove otherwise! So, show me the results of all your training and determination in these sparring matches. Show me elegance worthy of a knight, stamina to survive on the battlefield, and the strength to overpower any opponent!”

The knight grinned widely as he stared at us. “On my mark, you will begin sparring, and you will continue until one of you has no choice but to yield! I will not accept early surrender. Even if you feel outmatched, I expect you to find your partner’s weaknesses and exploit them. If your weapon breaks, step back and raise your arm and we will supply a new one. If I give you an order during your match, I expect you to follow it without question. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir!” the crowd responded. Nodding in satisfaction, he gave the order. “Begin!”

My sparring partner was a blonde-haired young man, perhaps 20 years of age. His clothes and armor were unassuming but of high quality and obviously brand new – meant to communicate that he should be respected as a noble but didn’t expect special treatment. I could tell he had been training for most of his life – he had the muscle mass to show for it.

I drew Pretense from its sheath and bowed politely. He smiled and bowed in return. “That’s a beautiful sword, miss.”

“Thank you, my lord. I found it in a cave.”

He took a formal stance, holding his pristine short sword in front of him with both hands, so I did likewise. Applicants desperate for attention would start off with something fancy, but that was asking for trouble against an unknown opponent. Better to keep it simple until I understand the situation. As the sound of clashing metal rang out on both sides of us, he took one step forward.

In an instant, his posture shifted, and his blade flung towards my chest loaded with momentum. Blocking would destroy my balance. I recoiled and the tip of his blade bit through the air. He quickly followed with a second strike opposing the first, this time nearly landing upon my shoulder. Each strike would have lightly grazed me, but I still felt the fear of death.

The massive inertia behind his strikes was a liability, though. He may have been able to bring his weight to bear quickly, but each swing was a commitment that was hard to adjust. I had to keep my distance instead of parrying his blows with my thinner frame and lighter weapon.

A third strike followed like lightning, this time sweeping up to strike my chin. I moved to swing beneath it, then hesitated, realizing that this swing was bait – fighting gravity, he could reverse at a moment’s notice to bring it down on my arms. I clenched my fists and pulled back, dragging the rest of my body along.

As expected, at the apex of his swing he shifted his feet to strike down into the void I left behind. As a flash of recognition appeared on his face, I rushed rightward and drove my blade up with all the force I could manage, shaking his grip on his blade and forcing him to backpedal. I followed with a quick thrust, the tip of my blade slicing through the air and nicking his left shoulder, then retreated. He was fast, to be certain, but Helian was faster, so it was no challenge to keep up.

The examiner announced himself from behind me. “Is this a party, young lady? If not, why’re you ballroom dancing? Show me something more interesting.”

I nodded as the two of us returned to our starting positions. “Yes sir.” My sparring partner beckoned me forward with his left hand. “Your turn, miss.”

I gripped my sword tightly with one hand and lunged forward, rotating into a narrow profile. He shifted his weight and ducked under my blade, releasing a one-handed swing aimed at my exposed ankle.

I pulled back and adjusted my stance to retreat. His blade rushed forward, only to be stopped by the steel tip of my boot, which I drove down with all my weight, pulling him forward. At the same time, I reversed my grip and drove my blade between his fingers.

The knight clapped behind me. “That’s more like it! You’d both be corpses by now on a real battlefield, but regardless, I’m quite entertained. While I see to the other applicants, I expect you to practice basic forms until your arms are numb.”

------

Countess Solana leaned back in her chair and took a long sip from her teacup. “The fencer with the blue blade… what house is she from? Do you know their swordsmanship instructor?”

The vice commander reached down to the table next to her and flipped through the stack of paperwork. “She’s lowborn. No family name or affiliation.”

The countess grinned and closed her eyes, constructing a picture in her mind. “Fascinating. Send the girl to my office tomorrow. I’ll find a good use for her.”

Helian and the Baron’s Bastard (3)

Despite my best efforts, I was hung over. But today’s exams were particularly easy, since they emphasized reading comprehension and logic puzzles – basic material for a college graduate, even if they weren’t in my first language. Unlike yesterday, Marie and Evan seemed to take to the challenge as well, and they both finished within a few minutes of me.

Once the exam had concluded and the proctor took our papers, I leaned back and stretched. I could already feel the wrist strain setting in, and there was more to come.

“Was everything okay yesterday, Helian?” Evan asked, looking at me with concern.

I shrugged. “I didn’t make any new friends, but… he doesn’t know my name, so it should be fine as long as I don’t run into him again.” I would, of course, but he didn’t need to worry about that.

Marie frowned. “That doesn’t sound good. Do you need our help? I could talk to my father about this…”

“I doubt that would help, Marie. His father runs things around here.”

Evan frowned, now matching his sister, and scratched his chin. “What? But this is a government building, so wouldn’t that make him…”

Marie shushed him with her right hand. “On second thought, this is really none of our business… let’s drop the topic.”

Discussing the baron’s son was an easy way to attract trouble in this city, doubly so in a government building. Despite being an incompetent bastard with a mean streak, he was still next in line to inherit the territory, and he already had the status necessary to ruin the lives of anyone who caught his attention.

“I’ve got a great idea. Since our tea was so rudely interrupted yesterday, why don’t you visit our home for the evening?”

“That sounds fantastic, Marie. Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“Of course not, Helian!” Evan interjected. “Mother would love to meet you.”

------

“Mother” turned out to mean Lady Herschel, a businesswoman who had married up, becoming the wife of a baronet of good repute. The Herschel family dwelt in a four-story manor a few blocks from the exam hall, within walking distance of the agriculture administration office where the twins’ father worked.

To my surprise, the lady greeted us at the entrance when we arrived. I suppose Marie had sent notice ahead of us so I wouldn’t be showing up unannounced. “Welcome home, you two! And this is Helian, I assume?”

“Yes, madam. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I bowed politely.

“No need for the formalities, sweetheart! And the pleasure is all mine – it’s always a delight to meet another rising star. I’m certain you three will leave a mark on history together.”

I could feel Matchmaker Radiation coming off her in waves, and Evan looked deeply uncomfortable. I suspect this wasn’t the first time she had welcomed a guest to the manor this way. No need to worry, I suppose. He’ll probably find someone nice once he leaves the plot.

After directing the butler to lead us to the sitting room, Lady Herschel returned to her office – according to Marie, she typically worked late into the evening – and we settled down to review arithmetic.

Despite my expectations, Evan proved to be an eager student, asking clear questions any time he had trouble understanding something. In contrast to her usual outspokenness, Marie sat quietly through most of our session and listened. I worried she was holding back, but when I handed them a simple test exam, they both breezed through it without an issue.

As I gathered my things to leave, their mother entered the room. “Oh, you three are finished already? Helian, dear! If you don’t have any plans for the evening, why don’t you join us for dinner?”

“Are you sure, madam? I don’t wish to impose.”

“Of course! I was hoping for a chance to speak with you, so if you like, you can think of it as doing me a favor.”

We headed to the dining room, finding a table already set for four. I suppose the lady was certain that I would stay, given that the twins’ father tended to work late into the evenings and rarely made it home for dinner. (I was certain that he would be impossible to meet, as this story’s author tended to entirely ignore “unimportant” parts of the setting.)

We passed the time with light chatter about local events, and I shared some anecdotes from my childhood with the eager audience. Evan was entranced by the tale of when XXXXX and I fell into the lake, though I had to omit some details like the fairy – I had a feeling if I mentioned it, they’d treat me like a lunatic, or worse, like some sort of storybook character.

As the servants brought out dessert, the topic shifted to our careers.

“So, Helian! Do you have any plans for after the exam?”

“I’m planning to apply to the finance ministry and the courthouse, madam.”

“Oh, the finance ministry would be perfect! With your sense for sums you’ll have the run of the place in no time, I suspect. If you’d like, I’d be happy to introduce you to some old acquaintances – one of them is a department supervisor, and I bet he’d be eager to hire you.”

Ah, nepotism! I was never fond of it, but I suppose it made no difference whether I got hired through normal procedure or back-room deals, as I’d be working at the ministry either way. That at least meant I could cross one more item off my to-do list and focus on the rest.