Weapon of Flesh Read Free

took the reins of two of the mounts and led them to the stables.  Apparently, whoever owned these horses would be staying for a while.  The boy ascended the steps eagerly, curiosity once again tickling at the back of his mind.
    He did not have long to wonder who these visitors were.  As he entered the great hall he beheld the Master and five tall figures standing around the long table nearest the cavernous fireplace.  All the newcomers bore weapons -- bows, swords, knives, and many other types he had never seen before.  They stood like warriors, too, for as they all turned to watch him approach he could see the balance and strength in their movements.  The Master bade him come closer, and he felt the scrutiny of the five.
    “This is Master Xhang,” the Master informed him, gesturing toward one of the five.  “He and his assistants will be teaching you the use of weapons, and the proper defenses against them.  You will not kill them.”
    “Yes, Master,” he responded, noting the light chuckle from one of the tall figures.   The sound was unfamiliar, strumming cords of curiosity in his mind and tensing his muscles.
    The one called Master Xhang also noted the chuckle, and snapped a curt order to the man in a language that the boy did not understand.  He understood well enough, however, when the one who had laughed unclasped his heavy cloak, stood his longbow against a chair and drew a long, curved sword.  The boy’s mind clicked with a possible correlation:  Perhaps laughter was a prelude to combat.
    “This is Cho Thang.  He is skilled in the use of the Katana, which you will learn presently.  Now, defend yourself.”
    The boy moved away from the group immediately, sidestepping into the open area between the long tables, while keeping his eyes on the tall warrior’s sword.  He noted the man’s movements, finding no flaw or obvious weakness.  He stopped and waited, assessing his situation.  The man was much taller than he, and the sword gave him even longer reach.  He also bore another short sword at his hip, curved like the one he wielded, and a small dagger.  These the boy could use, if he could get his hands on them, which was not likely, and he had the distinct disadvantage of being told not to kill the man.  Well, there was not much he could do but wait for the attack, so the boy prepared himself and settled into the focused relaxation that readied him for any opportunity.
    The series of attacks came in a flurry so quick and precise that the boy barely evaded the killing strokes, and received two shallow cuts on his shoulder and stomach.  He had not been able to penetrate the man’s guard in the slightest, his grasping fingers and lashing feet meeting only air.  The two paused for a moment, assessing one another anew.  The man’s features showed slight surprise at the boy’s quickness, and his narrow eyes widened as the shallow cuts he’d inflicted closed and vanished without a trace.  The boy showed nothing, but his mind was working full speed.  This was no orc or bandit that he could easily outwit and outfight; this was a trained warrior, and all he could hope for was to stay alive, and exploit any openings that presented themselves.
    The next flurry of attacks was longer and even more furious.  The boy’s hands and feet slapped aside killing strokes more than a dozen times before one cut finally passed his guard, slicing deeply into the muscle of his chest.
    “Stop!”
    Both combatants froze at the Master’s command, the boy because it was ingrained in his soul to do so and the warrior because he was simply trained to obey.  Both stood poised as the Master and the other warriors approached; the steady pat-pat of blood dripping from the boy’s heaving chest was loud to his ears.  The wound was closing, but he had lost a good amount of blood and felt its loss in the slight weakness in his limbs.
    “Master Xhang, your assessment.”
    “The boy is quick, and trained well for his