Eight.
By early summer, my
exercise with the stones paid off and I was able to draw water and
carry a bucket back to the house. My walks extended into the copse of
trees behind my house. I still used the staff that Tertius had cut
for walking, but had found another purpose for it.
Behind the curtain
of trees, I practiced strikes and deflections. The motions and
patters came like memories that became stronger as I followed the
echo of a stern voice exhorting his students to give a shout with
each blow.
One morning, I felt
a movement to my right. I turned to see a small stone thrown my way.
I deflected it with a swing of my staff. Helen’s waifish figure
swiftly followed the stone with a branch in hand. She gave a shout
that I defended against.
Her head was clean
shaven. A feral grin split her thin face. She was a full head taller
than me, so her overhead blows landed heavily. However, her attacks
grew monotonous and I poked her stomach.
She paused to
recover, then drove forward wildly. I tried to repeat the same move,
but she twisted aside and attacked. I parried and retreated from her
advance. She pursued until her foot got too close. I swept that foot
from her, but she dropped to a three point stance and pounced with
nary a pause.
Once I caught her
with a move, she didn’t fall for it a second time. Her foot
movement became more controlled as did her movements. Several minutes
into our bout, she begin mixing in feints with her blows, circled
when I defended, then resumed her stalking.
My breath blew hotly
from my mouth. My limbs grew heavier with every exchange. Though her
face was red, she did not slow. Instead, she pressed harder with a
flurry of smaller thrusts that aimed at my face, left torso, leg,
then back up. In the middle of my defense, she caught up with my
leaden legs and crossed her branch with the middle of my staff.
She grabbed the two
ends of her arm’s length branch and pressed down. With her greater
height and weight, I fell backward with my arms splayed into a bush.
She knocked my staff out of my hand, tossed her stick aside, and
wrestled me to the ground. Once there, she administered her
punishment as my laughter rang through the woods.
Helen didn’t stop
until I was thoroughly out of breath.
“At least you can
laugh,” she said.
Thinking about it, I
don’t think that I’d made a sound since falling ill. I took her
proffered hand and then dusted myself off.
A voice cut if from
behind her. “You’ll want to dust yourself off, too, Hellcat. Mum
said that you’re to finish your lessons.”
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