Chapter 27: Street Lessons

The next morning, Severin had a wooden sword in his hand by first bell.

Neumann put the nine into two lines and made them repeat the same footwork until the scrape of boots across the floor settled into something almost regular. Forward, back, turn, reset. Then the swords came up and the steps had to survive contact.

Severin managed that better than he had five days earlier. He still had to think about where his back foot went, but Neumann only corrected him twice during the first set.

Martin got corrected five times and complained about four of them.

"No. What the hell is this? Your feet are wrong."

"They were fine before you moved that fucking line."

Neumann pointed toward the wall. "Move your ass. Fifty."

Martin turned to Severin. "You’ve ruined this place for all of us."

Severin only grinned as he settled back into his stance.

Two places over, Rafael finished another sequence without being stopped. His movements were smaller than Severin’s, almost annoyingly so. He never seemed to hurry, but his sword was ready before his partner’s every time.

Neumann watched the lines for another minute, then clapped once. "Pairs. Clean touch, then reset. Keep it to the swords. If I see anyone turn this into a brawl, you’ll spend the afternoon doing push-ups."

Bennett glanced at Severin. "That last bit was for you."

"Fuck off."

The first rotations went quickly. Severin caught Paul across the shoulder after Paul rushed an attack and nearly tripped over his own front foot. Anna touched Severin on the forearm in the next exchange because he looked at her sword instead of her shoulders. He got her on the second attempt and missed badly on the third.

Then Neumann pointed at Rafael. "Hale. Montoro."

Rafael crossed the floor and took his place opposite Severin. After rolling one shoulder, he settled his grip and waited for Severin to raise his sword.

Neumann looked between them. "Go."

Severin moved first. He stepped in hard, meaning to get past the end of Rafael’s wooden blade before the other man could settle into the exchange.

Rafael gave ground, but only half a step.

Severin’s sword cut through empty air. His front foot landed farther ahead than he wanted, and before he could bring the back one under him Rafael’s blade touched his ribs.

"Reset," Neumann said.

Severin returned to the line while Rafael said nothing.

The second time Severin waited. Rafael moved first, testing the distance with a short cut Severin knocked aside. Wood cracked against wood. Severin pushed forward at once, trying to crowd him before Rafael could recover.

Rafael turned off the line, and Severin followed. When he reached again, the wooden point pressed against the center of his chest.

"Reset."

Severin stepped back harder than necessary.

Neumann came closer. "Your first step’s too long."

"I reached him."

"No. You reached where he was."

A couple of the others had stopped to watch as Neumann pointed at Severin’s feet.

"Shorten the step. Keep your weight under you or you’re stuck fixing your feet afterward."

Severin looked across at Rafael.

"Again."

This time he shortened the first step, and Rafael did not retreat. Their swords met near the middle and slid apart, leaving an opening at Rafael’s left side. Severin went for it and reached too far.

His rear foot dragged after him while Rafael stepped away from the attack and returned his blade across Severin’s forearm.

The touch was light, and that only made the mistake more irritating.

Neumann called the reset.

Severin lowered his sword. "Again."

"No."

Severin turned to him. "I know what I did."

"Good. Think about it while somebody else gets hit."

Martin laughed from the next line until Neumann pointed toward him without turning.

"You want another fifty, Keller?"

The laugh stopped.

Severin went to the wall with the others who were waiting their turn. Rafael moved on to Bennett and touched him twice before Bennett managed one clean hit to Rafael’s shoulder.

That helped, but not much.

By the time Neumann ended the rotations, Severin’s shirt was damp between his shoulders and his right hand had begun to ache around the wooden grip. Rafael looked tired too, which Severin found more reassuring than he wanted to admit.

Neumann had them stack the practice swords against the wall.

"Move the table over here. Put the bench with it and two screens by the far door."

Nobody asked why. They were getting tired of push-ups.

The nine dragged the training furniture across the hall and built something resembling a cramped public room between the chalk lines. A heavy trestle table took up the middle. A low wooden bench sat along one side, leaving a narrow passage between its end and the wall. Two standing screens narrowed the route to the far doorway.

Neumann walked through the arrangement once.

"Two of you start here, with two blockers over there. Get through the far door without being touched."

Paul raised a hand halfway. "With what?"

Neumann tossed two padded batons onto the floor beside Bennett. "Those."

Paul lowered his hand.

"You don’t have to beat the blockers. Just get out. Move the furniture if you need to, but don’t throw it or use it as a weapon. If I have to stop you for that, you’ll rebuild the room until supper."

"I didn’t say anything," Severin said, spreading his hands.

The first pair lasted less than ten seconds. Bennett guarded the open side of the table while Hoffmann held the gap near the wall. Martin tried to slip between them and got touched across the shoulder. While arguing that the touch had been too light, he blocked Madeleine’s route.

Neumann sent them back to the start.

Anna and Peters did better. Anna waited until Hoffmann shifted toward her, then Peters went the other way. Bennett still reached him before the door.

After two more rotations, Neumann called Severin and Rafael forward.

Bennett picked up one baton. Hoffmann took the other.

Rafael studied the room before stepping to the start line. His attention moved from Bennett to Hoffmann, then to the far door.

Severin studied the furniture.

The table left enough room on either side for one man at a time. Bennett had the wider route. Hoffmann stood near the wall passage with the end of the bench a few feet behind him. If Rafael drew Bennett toward the table and cut across, Hoffmann could circle the bench and reach the door from the side.

Rafael leaned slightly toward Severin. "I’ll move first. When Bennett comes across, stay with me and follow through the middle."

Severin kept looking at the bench.

Neumann called, "Go."

Rafael moved fast.

Bennett stepped in to meet him. Rafael changed direction before the baton could touch him and slipped around the table’s near corner.

Severin started after him, then saw Hoffmann leave the wall exactly where he had expected.

Instead, he grabbed the end of the bench.

"Hale."

He ignored Neumann and dragged it hard across the floor.

The legs scraped over stone. The bench turned diagonally until one end struck the table and the other jammed close to the wall.

Hoffmann stopped short. The route around the bench had disappeared, though Severin had also put the bloody thing in his own way.

Rafael glanced back once at the jammed bench.

One glance was enough. He cut through the narrow gap Severin had left beside the table and called, "Here."

Bennett came after him, and Severin clipped his hip on the bench trying to follow. That half-step was enough for the padded baton to brush the back of his coat.

"Touched," Bennett said.

"Shit."

Rafael was already through the far door when Neumann blew the whistle. "Reset."

Severin stared at Bennett. "Barely."

"Still counts."

Bennett smiled and handed the baton to Paul for the next rotation.

Severin grabbed the bench to put it back, and Rafael took the other end without being asked. They carried it back where it had been.

"You blocked Hoffmann," Rafael said.

"Yeah."

"You also blocked yourself."

"I noticed."

Rafael set his end down. "Don’t move it as far next time."

Severin said nothing.

Rafael was already checking the gap between the bench and the table.

On their second attempt, Paul and Bennett held the batons. Rafael took the first movement again, but when Neumann called, he waited for Severin instead of starting.

Severin checked the setup. Bennett stood closer to the table this time, while Paul had left too much room beside the wall.

"Wall side," Severin said.

Rafael went.

Bennett shifted to cut him off. Severin shoved the bench only far enough to narrow the middle and followed Rafael around the other end. Paul tried to recover, but the bench forced him to turn around it instead of cutting straight across.

Rafael reached the door first, with Severin coming through behind him before Bennett’s baton could catch his back.

Neumann let them continue two strides into the open hall before blowing the whistle.

"Better. Reset it."

That was all, and Severin preferred it to praise.

They spent another half hour changing pairs and blockers. By the end, the room no longer looked like a room. The bench had scraped pale marks into the stone, and one screen leaned against the wall. Paul had managed to trap himself between the table and Madeleine while trying to stop her.

Neumann finally sent them to the swords again.

Severin took one from the stack and flexed his sore fingers around the grip. Of course Rafael ended up opposite him.

They took their places on the chalk as Neumann walked past without stopping. "Clean touch. Reset."

Severin raised the sword. Rafael waited for the first move, so Severin stepped in.

His body wanted the same long reach as before. He felt it starting in the front leg and cut the step short before his weight followed. The rear foot came under him cleanly.

Rafael’s blade met his, but Severin stayed balanced. Neither of them had touched the other when Rafael shifted to Severin’s outside.

This time Severin still had somewhere to go.