Jack Whyte - The Sorcer part 1 - The Fort at River's Bend

"No," I said, knowing what he was thinking. "Not that. Practice posts are useless for these swords. The weapons are too long, their arc too big. Cavalry swords require and demand an entirely different technique, and that's what you'll be learning from now on. You've been learning it already, for the past few years."

He gazed now for long moments at the weapon he held, the lower third of its blade resting on his open left palm, and then he looked me in the eye. "This isn't like any of the cavalry swords I've seen before. Where did it come from?"

"From Camulod," I replied. "Carol made it, and it is a cavalry sword, just like the others, yet very different. It's longer, heavier and above all sharper and more dangerous. You'll find there's more discipline attached to the use of this sword than to any other. All the rules apply that apply to other swords you've used, but there are new, additional rules that apply to these particular weapons. Ded and Rufio will continue to be your teachers, and from time to time I'll be working with you, and so will Donuil."

He was hefting the sword as I spoke, looking at the blade that stretched out from his fists.

"One other thing should be obvious. You won't be using this in quite as many ways as you use your staff. The only time you'll use it two-handed is when both hands are on the hilt. Try closing your fist over any part of that blade and you'll lose your fingers. Now, let's see those exercises again, using the sword."

He went through the entire sequence of exercises again, very slowly at first as he adjusted to the novelty of the feel and heft of the new sword, then with increasing confidence, until I could no longer see the hesitations where he had eliminated moves that involved catching the end of his weapon in his left hand to block a downward chop or deliver a full torso thrust. He did not say much, but it was evident that he was fascinated by the task that now lay ahead of him: the mastery of this new sword. I resisted the temptation to cross blades with him then and there; there would be time aplenty for that in the days ahead.

That same afternoon, I instructed Mark to set up four practice horses—Arthur, as I had known he would, had been most insistent that his friends be permitted to enter on this new phase of training with him. His reasons for insisting, however, had pleased me greatly. What point was there, he had asked me, in his graduating to the next phase of his training alone? Without the shared participation and the assistance of his friends, he would have a more difficult and trying time mastering the new techniques, and their friendship might suffer because of it. With their equal involvement, however, the effort would be lessened by a factor of four, since they could all work together. Even Ghilly, he pointed out, who was not yet twelve, had earned the right to move ahead and would not let either his youth or his lack of muscle hold him back from taking his rightful place among the four. I had listened, shrugged and agreed with him.

The practice horses were made of short, massive logs mounted on wooden legs. They resembled ludicrous saw- horses big enough to accommodate a saddle with stirrups and reins and a bridle. I had discussed their construction some time before with Mark, and so he was able to erect them quickly at the far end of the parade ground, close by the upright posts we used for short-sword practice—now that the boys were to be taught the use of the new swords, there was no further need for secrecy or concealment. Mark and the two men he had conscripted to help him hoisted the last of the awkward structures into place before sunset, using a tripod and pole block and tackle. The "horses" were far from elegant or graceful, but they were adequate and functional, and I saw the rightness of them when I went out to examine them at Mark's summons.

In the gathering dusk of evening, just before dinner that same night, I took the four boys out to see the new structures, and in order to mark the occasion in their minds as being of more than normal significance, I had Dedalus, Donuil and Rufio accompany us. There, once the four boys had clambered up onto the stationary devices and their initial exuberance had worn down, we informed them that in this place, mounted on these saddled forms, they would learn most of what they needed to know to use these new weapons. They would learn to use them on foot, too, I pointed out, but not as much and not as often. Like the long, ball-and-chain flail invented by Uther Pendragon, these long swords were primarily cavalry weapons.

Thereafter, we entered a period when the bell-like ringing of skystone iron could be heard coming from the parade ground at all hours of the day. We had four students and four teachers and only two of the swords, and so we worked out a roster which ensured that each student would work regularly with each teacher. Much of what we four teachers had developed was new, common to all and suited to the properties of the swords, but each had acquired small tricks and idiosyncrasies of his own, naturally suited to his individual fighting techniques.

Eventually, and very soon after the initial excitement and novelty of the new weapons had begun to abate, Arthur's inquisitive mind and his natural sense of justice brought him to my quarters with questions. Why were the four Camulod boys the only ones to be learning the new techniques? That was simply answered. There were no more than two swords and a finite number of hours in the day. Then why were there only two swords? Could Joseph not make more, since these weapons were so obviously superior to anything else in existence?

To answer that one, I had to tell him that the swords were made from the statue Publius Varrus had smelted from the skystone, his Lady of the Lake. He was thoroughly familiar with the tale, of course, but only with the early part of it. He had no idea that Excalibur existed, and I was determined that he should not yet learn about it, even though I was utterly convinced he was the one destined to use the sword. Publius Varrus had entrusted me with the secret of Excalibur, and it was one I had guarded well. Arthur would see it and own it one day, but not until he was ready, and right now he was still a boy.

He listened to what I had to say about the two new swords and the uniqueness of the metal from which they were made, and when I fell silent he nodded slowly, obviously not quite convinced of the correctness of my logic. I watched him.

"What's the matter? You wish to say something more? Speak out."

He shrugged. "Well, Merlyn, I understand what you mean, but it still doesn't seem right to me that Gwin and Bedwyr and Ghilly and I should be the only ones to learn to fight with new weapons. What about my other friends? This makes it look as though we are ... different, better somehow, more privileged."

"You are." He blinked at me and I plucked at my lower lip. "These other friends of yours, are you referring to the other boys living here in Mediobogdum, or are you including those in Ravenglass? Remember that the Romans lost the world because they taught the barbarians the Roman way of war. Would you want Droc and his cronies learning how to beat you more thoroughly than they can now?"

"I didn't mean them!"

"No, I assumed that, but where do you draw the .line? Are we to tell King Derek that we don't wish to teach his son anything? He hasn't asked us to, prior to this, but if you start giving lessons to all your friends who are his people, he'll have every right to demand that his sons share the learning."

That quieted him, and I stared at the top of his head as he gazed at his feet, thinking the matter through.

"Look, Arthur," I said then, taking pity on him. "There is one thing you have to bear in mind. You are the central and sole focus of all of these activities. You are Arthur Pendragon, great-grandson of Publius Varrus and King Ullic Pendragon, great-great-nephew of Caius Britannicus, founder of Camulod. You are the son of Uther Pendragon and the rightful heir to Cambria, and on your mother's side you have a claim to kingship of the Hibernian Scots. The day will come when you may have to fight for one or all of those birthrights. That day will find you well prepared, indeed uniquely prepared, if we continue as we are. Gwin and Ghilly and Bedwyr train with you because they are your closest friends and have been since your infancy. Someday, they'll be your commanders, weapons in and of themselves, and therefore they are worthy of being taught what they must know to perform their tasks and achieve what you will require of them. Do you hear and understand what I am saying to you now?"