Robert Asprin - The Cold Cash War

Kumo bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the compliment, but his eyes were still wary.

"However, what you tell me is that they must be convinced with action, not words. It has been always a characteristic of man that he can settle differences, pass his experiences from one generation to the next, and develop new ideas and concepts through the use of words. If you are correct in your appraisal of your students, if they are unable to be swayed by words, if the only way their respect can be earned is by action, then they are not men, they are animals."

Kumo's back stiffened.

"This is not surprising because you have trained them like animals."

There was an angry stirring in the ranks.

"Normally, I would stand aside for men and women of such training, for they could defeat me with ease. But you tell me they are animals. As such, I will accept your challenge, Kumo. I will stand and defeat the man or woman of your choice any time, any place, with any weapon, for I am a man, and a man does not fear an animal."

There were scattered angry cries from the ranks. First singly, then as a group, the force rose and stood at the ready position, wordlessly volunteering to champion the force by facing Tidwell.

The mercenary suppressed an impulse to smile at the sensei's predicament. Kumo had obviously planned to face Tidwell himself. In slanting his retort toward the force, Tidwell had successfully forced Kumo into choosing a member from the ranks. A teacher cannot defend his students without implying a lack of confidence in their prowess. If the abilities of a student are challenged, the student must answer the challenge. Terrific. Would you rather face a tiger or a gorilla?

"Mr. Tidwell, your answer is eloquent, if unwise. You are aware that such a contest would be fought to the death?"

Tidwell nodded. He hadn't been, but he was now. Inwardly, he gritted his teeth. Kumo wasn't leaving him any outs.

"Very well. The time will be now, the place here. For weapons, you may have your choice."

Clever bastard! He's waiting to see weapons choice before he picks my opponent.

"I'll fight as I stand."

"I will also allow you to choose your opponent. I have faith in each of my students."

Damn! He'd reversed it. Now if Tidwell didn't choose Kumo for an opponent, it would appear he was probing for a weaker foe.

Tidwell scanned the force slowly, while he pondered the problem. Finally he made his decision.

He turned to Kumo once more.

"I will face Aki."

There was a quiet murmur of surprise as Aki rose and approached the platform. Obviously Tidwell was not trying to pick a weak opponent.

The powerhouse bounded onto the platform and bowed to Kumo. Kumo addressed him in rapid Japanese, then much to everyone's astonishment, removed his sword and offered it to his student. Aki's glance flickered over Tidwell, then he gave a short bow, shaking his head in refusal. Raising his head in calm pride, he rattled off a quick statement in Japanese, then turned to face Tidwell. Kumo inclined his head, then returned the sword to his sash. He barked a few quick commands, and several men sprang to clear the platform, relocating the dignitaries and their chairs to positions in front of and facing the scene of the upcoming duel.

Tidwell shrugged out of his jacket and Clancy stepped forward to take it.

"Are you out of your bloody mind, Steve?" he murmured under his breath.

"Do you see any options?"

"You could have let me fight him. If Kumo can have a champion, you should be able to have one too."

"Thanks, but I'd rather handle this one myself. Nothing personal."

"Just remember the option next time, if there is a next time."

"C'mon Clancy, what could you do that I can't in a spot like this?"

"For openers, I could blow him away while he's bowing in."

Clancy opened his hand slightly to reveal the derringer he was palming. Tidwell recognized it at once as Clancy's favorite holdout weapon-two shots, loads exploding on impact, accurate to fifty feet in the hands of an expert, and Clancy was an expert.

"Tempting, but it wouldn't impress the troops much."

"But it would keep you alive!"

"Academic. We're committed now."

"Right. Win it!"

Win it. The mercenary's send-off. Tidwell focused his mind on that expression as he took his place facing Aki. At times like this when the chips were down, it meant a lot more than all the good lucks in the world.

Suddenly the solution to the problem occurred to him. Chancy, but worth a try!

"Clancy, give me a pad and pencil."

They appeared magically. No aide is complete without those tools. Tidwell scribbled something quickly on the top sheet, ripped it from the pad, and folded it twice.

"Give this to Mr. Yamada."

Clancy nodded and took the note, stashing the pad and pencil as he went.

Everything was ready now. With relatively few adaptations, a lecture assembly had been converted into an arena. As he was talking to Clancy, Tidwell had been testing the platform surface. It was smooth sanded wood, unvarnished and solid. He considered taking off his boots for better traction, but discarded the idea. He'd rather have the extra weight on his feet for the fight-increased impact and all that.

Kumo sat at the rear center of the platform, overseeing the proceedings as always. Then Clancy vaulted back onto the platform, his errand complete. Deliberately he strode across the platform and took a position beside Kumo on the side closest Tidwell. Kumo glared, but did not challenge the move.

Tidwell suppressed a smile. Score one for Clancy. This was not a class exercise and Kumo was not an impartial instructor. It was a duel, and the seconds were now in position. One thing was sure-if he ever took a contract to take on the devil, he wanted Clancy guarding his flanks.

But now there was work to be done. For the first time, he focused his attention on Aki, meeting his enemy's gaze directly. Aki was standing at the far end of the platform, relaxed and poised, eyes dead. The eyes showed neither fear nor anger. They simply watched, appraised, analyzed, and gave nothing in return. Tidwell realized that he was looking into a mirror, into the eyes of a killer. He realized it, accepted it, and put it out of his mind. He was ready.

He raised an eyebrow in question. Aki saw and gave a fractional nod of his head, more an acknowledgement than a bow, and the duel began.

Tidwell took one slow step forward and stopped, watching. Aki moved with leisurely grace into a wide, straddle-legged stance, and waited, watching.

Check! Aki was going to force Tidwell into making the opening move. He was putting his faith in his defense, in his ability to weather any attack Tidwell could throw at him and survive to finish the bout before his opponent could recover. However the duel went, it would be over quickly. Once Tidwell committed himself to an attack, it would either succeed or he would be dead.

Tidwell broke the tableau, moving diagonally to his right leisurely, almost sauntering. As he approached the edge of the platform he stopped, studied his opponent, then repeated the process, moving diagonally to the left. Aki stood unmoving, watching.

To an unschooled eye, it would appear almost as if Tidwell were an art connoisseur, viewing a statue from various angles. To the people watching, it was Aki's challenge. He was saying, "Pick your attack, pick your angle. I will stop you and kill you."

Finally Tidwell heaved a visible sigh. The decision was made. He moved slowly to the center of the platform, paused, considering Aki, then placed his hands behind his back and began moving toward him head-on. Theatrically he came, step by step, a study in slow motion. The question now was how close? How close would Aki let him come before launching a counterattack? Could he bait Aki into striking first? Committing first?