‘Very good,’ said Cassian. He stepped forward and, with a finger, lifted the tip of the wooden sword so that it was held in readiness beside the protection of the shield. ‘Like a snake, ready to strike.’ He noticed Brann’s puzzled look. ‘Like an arrow drawn and ready to fly. No use fending off a blow if you are not able to exploit any opportunity, should it present itself.’
His eyes squinted slightly and he cocked his head. Twisting the strap on Brann’s right wrist, he turned the hilt a fraction in the boy’s grip. ‘This way, yes? Now you will swing more easily. Now, drop your sword then turn to face Salus.’
Brann whirled, and stood poised, shield and sword ready. Cassian adjusted his elbow and stepped back. ‘Good feet, good balance. Deliberate but almost right. And lead with your eyes. Dizziness is not a benefit when someone seeks to kill you. And you will see more, sooner. Now to me.’
He faced the old soldier again, who moved to correct his sword arm, then stopped with a shake of his head. ‘No, it’s fine. Now thirty more times doing it right. If you get it wrong, you start again.’
Brann got it right. By ten, the position didn’t feel so awkward. By thirty, his arms were following the pattern themselves.
‘Good boy.’ Cassian looked delighted.
Brann looked at him. ‘When do I start practising with an opponent?’
The man leant on a plain staff, for all the world like the shaft of a spear without the head. ‘Did you not listen earlier? You cannot learn to fight in one day. Your brain would not accept it. We must train your muscles. You are not used to the movement of a shield or sword, but your muscles learn and remember on their own. They do not need the brain to work out what is best and waste time telling them. If they do it often enough, they do it themselves. So we are teaching your arms to remember. If you come back tomorrow, we can start to teach your head.’ His hand patted Brann’s head then, almost absently, ruffled his hair. ‘Listen to Salus. He is a good man, and has won many fights, inside and out of the Arena. You will most probably die tomorrow, but his words will reduce that possibility a little each time you hear them. Now, the post. Left then right then left. And always with the shield ready to protect.’
He nodded at Salus and ambled away, smiling benignly at the gladiators he passed. No matter their activity, they stopped as he passed and greeted him with their right hands on their chests.
Salus’s face dropped into a glare of an intensity that tightened Brann’s chest. ‘You see the respect and the affection that man brings from those gladiators? That comes from his achievements and his knowledge, yes. But it also comes from his simple acceptance of everyone who comes here to live, and his passion to protect them by improving them as fighters in every way he can. Already he does that for you, so if you want any chance at all to live tomorrow, you will listen and remember every word he says, and waste no time questioning him.’
Brann nodded through his embarrassment.
Salus’s smile returned like the sun emerging from a cloud. ‘Good. Now, face that post and show me you heard the man.’
By the time Brann turned from the post to take the next clod on his shield, the old man was gone. But the fatigue had eased just enough to see him through to dusk.
Before he allowed him to eat, Salus took him into the main house, leading him through to the room with the pools where he had met Cassian. Brann wondered if the master of the school ever met anyone in his house with clothes on, but found the room empty, little light entering by the windows but lamplight glowing on the still surface of the water.
He turned to Salus. ‘Where is he?’
The big shoulders shrugged. ‘No idea. Now let Marlo take off your clothes.’
‘What?’
But before he could object, the padded tunic was unlaced at the shoulders and fell to his ankles under its considerable weight. Brann felt as it he was rising off the ground.
‘Oh, that feels so good.’ A flash of a blade saw Marlo expertly slice his clothes until they, too, lay on the floor. Brann dropped his shield to cover himself. ‘Oh, that’s just great. Now what will I wear tomorrow?’
Salus looked puzzled. ‘You think we have no clothing to give you? What you had was nice for visiting the Emperor, but not so suitable for the Arena. And if you are to live or die as a man of Cassian, you must be seen as one.’ He patted the symbol on his own tunic. ‘Now, into the first bath.’
‘The what?’
‘Bath. The pool of water nearest you.’
Brann tilted the sword and shield pointedly. ‘With these?’
‘Why not? They are wood. They will not rust.’
The water was warm and, he had to admit, extremely pleasant. He started to relax, the wooden weapons lying on the surface until, to his shock, Marlo stripped as well and slipped in. He recoiled in horror, but the boy just grinned.
‘Don’t flatter yourself, Northerner. You have two things missing from your chest and something extra between your legs. Not my type. My duties only extend so far.’
He rubbed a block of soap on Brann and eased the lather through his hair, then scrubbed at him with a hard-bristled brush.
‘Good,’ Salus nodded in approval when he was clean. ‘Now for your muscles. Into the second bath.’
He gasped with the heat of the water as he sank into the middle pool. Sitting neck-deep, he felt his arms and legs grow weak and his head light.
Salus stood over him. ‘Thirty breaths in this bath, then thirty in the next. Six times in each.’
Brann rose and emerged from the water, deep pink on all but his head. He stepped into the third pool but snatched his foot back with a yelp. ‘You are not serious! That’s like ice!’
Salus shoved him between the shoulders and he was launched headlong into the water, the sudden cold constricting his chest and tensing every part of his body. As he surfaced, spluttering, the man said amiably, ‘Better to endure shock for one second than to drag it over many. Thirty breaths, then back in the hot.’
‘I’ll have to start breathing again before I can count them,’ Brann gasped.
Marlo patted him dry with a thick towel at the end.
‘If that was meant to make me feel better, it was a waste of time,’ Brann grumbled. ‘I feel as weak as ever.’
‘You are tired because you have worked; water cannot fix that. It is unfortunate, and you would have benefited from a rest day today, but you will be better tomorrow tired with muscles that know how to move than fresh and flailing.’
‘So how does this help then?’
‘This, curious one, is to let you move tomorrow. Were you merely to sleep now, you would wake with limbs stiffened to immobility. The hot lets your blood flow, the cold tightens your muscles in. One then the other flushes the blood through the muscles, like bellows sucking in air then shooting it out, taking with it all that should not be there. Your muscles will be clean and ready for tomorrow.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do. Now, clothing, food and sleep.’
As soon as he woke, he could feel the wisdom in Salus’s words. He started a stretch, and was immediately reminded of the heavy wood attached to his wrists.
He had slept soundly. Even the prospect of what lay ahead when he woke and the awkwardness of having a wooden sword and shield strapped to him hadn’t managed to stop him from sinking into deep slumber as soon as he had laid back. That was the benefit of exhausting himself. He had no exhaustion now to overwhelm his thoughts. His breathing quickened and his stomach clenched. Today was when it happened. Today, he could push away the prospect into the future no longer.
He