Chapter 145: Three Master Swordsmen (II)

I apologize for my unfortunate delay in posting! It was not only the delay at work.... I also shot the first two episodes of 'The Rings of Power' in a row!

Enjoy your reading, dear readers!

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POV: Lord Commander of the Seven Keepers.

Less than thirty feet away from a pair of kingsguards.

A minute after the real fight began...

'How did he parry that surprise imbroglio at the blade's weak point?

It should be impossible from that position! ... I'm sure that a moment earlier, the arm was outstretched and the torso unbalanced on the opposite side! Then how?!' All the studies, research, and practice gained by Jon Cupps over more than two decades of dedication to martial art and human physiology continued to be twisted and thrown into the muck.

Jon Cupps sought confirmation from his sworn nemesis on the opposite side of the arena... Even the best swordsman in the Confederation of Mages, Ser Tristan, the Lord Commander of the Arcane Shields, seemed as troubled and confused as he was.

Among the Twelve Arcane Shields was a Shrykes, a rare humanoid creature native to southern K'Dath. They were nicknamed Lizard Men in the citadel because of their green-scaled skin, long tongue and venomous bite. But another peculiarity of the Shrykes was their abnormal bone and joint elasticity...

Ser Ghruklak Urablo was one of Carcosa's finest Eldritch Knights, famous to Oldtown ears for his exotic fighting technique that could not be replicated by the common man.

Yet from the look in Lord Commander Tristan's eyes, Jon could sense that not even the lizard-swordsman should be able to perform such acrobatics.

'So that is the ultimate art of Master Zick...' thought one of the very few privileged people in Westeros to have been taught by the best master of arms in the Known World.

The technique The Watcher refused to teach to any disciple he had met so far...

The Spider Queen failed in her attempt to hide the connection between The Watcher and the strongest gladiator ever to exist in Essos.

Lord Leyton, President Ultherro and Chai Dug tried every flattering and incentivizing way to acquire Vharro's 'Blade of a Hundred Eyes' technique.

Now that the Guardian of Love had chosen to openly display the supremacy of the {Closing of the Sixteen Gates}, all the forces of the world carefully re-evaluated 'why' the Fourth World Organization and the Guardian should never be provoked.

What known army or magic would be able to counter a hypothetical militia composed of a thousand Vharro?

Dragons?

No... Dorne and the Storming of the Dragonpit had taught the Known World that even the deadliest of single weapons of war could be thwarted.

Fortifications?

Fifty versatile warriors capable of easily infiltrating and conquering any known fortress in Westeros with sheer personal fighting skills were worth more than a Dragon skilled only at reducing it to ashes...

Fleets of Ships?

One of the Nine Demons was enough to force the greatest pirate of the century, The Old Mother, to seek refuge in the Narrow Sea...

Sorcerers?

If Master Zick had not already trained renowned Mage-Slayers like Ramas, it might have been a valid guess...

Riches, faiths, names, blood, magic, Valyrian steel weapons and armour all paled in the face of the power of such an army. An army loyal to a single entity...

Cupps' attention refocused on the confrontation; by now, Gelledo had been attacking relentlessly for almost two minutes, and his movements became increasingly clumsy and slow. On the other hand, Bloody Snow continued to remain in a defensive position, not conceding a single foot of ground until his opponent spaced out to catch his breath.

"Anf... Anf... can't you do anything but defend yourself, Hero of the North!' Since the sword seemed ineffective, the Braavosian tried using his tongue to wound his immovable opponent.

"Forgive me, milord, but my blade has cooled too quickly-you; stay there and catch your breath while I go and heat the metal some more." Gelledo gritted his teeth but did not respond to the provocation and helplessly allowed his opponent to move sideways toward the brazier...

'It's a psychological battle. The boy is shattering more and more of the Water Dancer's hopes, mentally torturing him with anticipation of the counterattack.' Jon assessed himself.

Bloody Snow wanted to make his enemy aware that he had no chance of victory and that only pain and humiliation awaited Gelledo. An effective strategy to force the enemy to surrender...

About nine years ago, the Lord Commander had the misfortune of collaborating with a member of the Seven Secrets of the Citadel.

Oldtown had captured and imprisoned a member of Prince Rhaegar's personal escort. A guard named Milton.

For the first hour, the poor Milton was hung naked with chains on his wrists in the interrogation chamber, continuing to rant about how loyal he was to the prince and the Crown, swearing in the name of the Seven that never, not even under the most excruciating torture, would he ever betray Rhaegar.

The citadel constable did not lay a finger on Milton for the first four hours... Simply, the torturer continued in silence to scrutinize, fondle and carefully sharpen all the instruments in front of the helpless victim forced to watch...

The 'brave' and 'loyal' Milton began tearfully singing the longest and most detailed of songs as early as the beginning of the third hour...

'Out of thousands of possible candidates, Master Zick chose him... He gave the North one of humanity's most valuable and dangerous knowledge.' The best martial talent of his generation did not know how to face the bitter truth.

Ser Jon could not feel anger toward his former master, who had invested nearly two years of loving dedication and care in guiding him and five other elite comrades.

More than fifteen years had passed since the day of Zick's departure from Oldtown; Jon knew that The Watcher of Love's martial leadership was more of a coercion imposed by the High Tower to comply with the peace agreements between the three world superpowers, but in any case, respect for The Watcher always remained comparable to that felt toward a father.

Neither the two members of the Seven Keepers, the Seven Secrets or the Seven Paladins trained by Zick wished to be forced to wage war against The Watcher.

It was not jealousy but more anger and frustration at that boy for forcing his hand in Oldtown by forcing the High Tower to antagonize The Watcher of Love.

"Ser Jon."Lord Leyton called in a low voice.

"Yes, my lord." Replied the knight promptly.

"Are you able to note the technique and all the movements of the Guardian's student?" Jon frowned in response:

"I'm afraid not, my lord... Those are not simple set manoeuvres; they are too changeable and unique to each other. The movements do not follow precise lines or arcs. They are more like a stream flows with hundreds of possible paths that the blade can follow as needed.

Based on sight alone, it is like trying to read a book in an unfamiliar language.

The keywords to translate the manual resides in the muscle memory of the practitioner. Without practical guidance, attempting to replicate that technique is simply impossible..."

"I see... what else were you able to glean in this brief exchange?" This was one of his liege's qualities; he had no problem seeking the advice of even the lowliest or most infamous individual should he turn out to be more knowledgeable or educated in subjects in which The Old Man felt deficient.

"The manoeuvres shown so far by Bloody Snow number eight, but each could also be used to counterattack and attack his opponent and to parry, deflect or repel assaults.

In my humble opinion, Duncan Tallhart could have severely or even fatally injured Gelledo on at least a dozen occasions.

The boy's muscle and joint twists are unnatural and give the technique an unpredictability and uniqueness that is very difficult to predict in a fight.

It is as if his physique possesses bundles of muscles and joints unknown to the common man...

In all sincerity, I have no idea how much time, effort or practice an individual would have to invest in assimilating just one of those eight manoeuvres." Explained the master swordsman.

"To me, that already sounds like a lot of information acquired in just a few minutes of performance. My compliments, Ser," Leyton nodded in praise. "Thank you, my lord. I regret that I cannot do more."

"Um, should you cross swords with the boy, would you be able to absorb at least some of that language?" Asked the Oldtown Defender.

"Hard to answer for sure... I would have to experiment first to find out.

Taking up the analogy about sight, direct sparring would give the researcher other senses such as touch and smell. Testing the opponent's strength, breath, and response choices to different attacks would undoubtedly be more helpful. But whether I will be able to glean other relevant information from these other perspectives, I cannot say." The Lord Commander.

Leyton pondered carefully for a few seconds, making sure that The Watcher's gaze was not directly aimed at the duo, before enacting:

"Duncan Tallhart will participate in the grand tournament scrimmage five days from today; I wish you to join it as well." Cupps turned away in great surprise.

Before the disaster at Valyria, Oldtown had not allowed the twenty-one honour guards to participate in any competitive social event or demonstration that would showcase the true capabilities of the secret weapons of the High Tower, the Starry Sept, and the Citadel.

The great houses of Westeros and the Crown would not have reacted well if they found out that quiet, peaceful Oldtown could field twenty-one warriors more lethal and capable than the White Bull...

"My lord, are you sure that-"

"I am willing to roll the dice, Lord Commander.

The council will forgive this minor disregard for tradition... Uncertain times call for flexible measures.

You have my permission to test the abilities of Zick's pupil as you see fit." Cupps was one of the seventeen members of the Andalus High Council, and he was well aware that the Seven Grand Archmaesters would not appreciate this decision. Still, the knight agreed with the High Council's Supreme Protector.

Bloody Snow finished preparations for the second act, and Ser Jon Cupps refocused all his attention on the duel. Shocks of adrenaline and shivers of excitement pervaded the knight secretly named by his cronies 'The Indomitable'...

End POV.

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POV: Lord Commander of the Twelve Arcane Shields.

From the opposite position to the noble spectators in Oldtown.

About a minute before the duel resumed...

{"Zick! Hey, Guardian, I'm talking to you!"} Noble Chai caught The Watcher's attention by communicating in the ancient and unknown language of the Dawn Empire. All members of the Arcane Shield knew a language that Zick also spoke fluently...

His former master had the gift of an unparalleled visual memory. It would have been enough for the Guardian of Love to observe the movements of lips, tongue, diaphragm and body gestures once to translate and learn to communicate in an unknown language.

Very few were aware of the first meeting between the Guardian and the Chief Sorcerer of Carcosa.

The King in The Yellow formed friendships and bonds with The Watcher several years before the Nine Demons Tumult marked the rise of the current Fourth World Organization.

Some thirty-five years ago, Zick's young party fled through the Krazaaj Zasqua mountain ranges to sow a Dothraki Khalasar on their trail after an unfortunate but to this day unknown incident in Vaes Dothrak.

Unfortunately, the group of twelve ended up from the frying pan into the fire...

A tribe of Jogos Nhai commanded by a young and belligerent Jhat (same role as a Khal in his own Khalasar) descendant of the legendary female warrior Jhattar (Jhat of the Jhat) Zhea The Cruel, captured the group of The Watcher to offer them as sacrificial tributes to his revered Moonsinger (priestess, judge and healer of the tribe).

The people of the Jogos Nhai are not very dissimilar to the Dothraki culture; many historians and moonsingers in the confederacy still sing to this day that the Jogos were also a branch descended from the Womb of The Word, the same lake in which the first Dothraki emerged hundreds of thousands of years earlier.

They are nomads living in yurts, tents and saddles, a proud and warlike race that values freedom and is never content to stay in one place for long.

The only appreciable differences between the nomadic races, besides the Mount Zorses and peculiar physical features, are that it is forbidden for the Jogos Nhai to shed blood belonging to the same people. But, on the other hand, their culture had an absolute lack of tolerance for foreigners...

However... only three years after the disappearance of a small group of young foreigners, desperately sought by dozens of mercenary companies hired by a concerned and wealthy noblewoman of Pentos, a centuries-old event shook all the lands from the Bone Mountains to the Morning Mountains...

A new young Jhat named Kutan 'Zorseface' demonstrated strength, wisdom and valour to all the tribes of the Jogos Nhai by earning the honour of 'Jhattar'.

The new Jhattar sent foreign emissaries to the city of Yin to propose a symbolic truce with the Empire of Yi Ti, which had been worn down for more than a decade in a threefold civil war over the succession to the throne.

The Golden Empire of Yi Ti, like other cities and races bordering the belligerent nomadic raiders, were fighting an endless thousand-year war against the Jogos Nhai.

Many emperors in the past managed to find truces and symbolic negotiations with various lesser Jhats but never had anyone managed to negotiate peace with a Jhattar...

As soon as word of a possible viable means of communication with the highest ranking figure in charge of the worst thorn in the side of the Confederation of Wizards reached the Sorcerer Chief's ears, Chai Dug unleashed all the elite forces of Carcosa and Asshai to intervene as soon as possible.

The Confederation was able to respond in less than half a day, investing enormous amounts of means and resources...

The royal palace was besieged and isolated for nearly a moon, the candidate Emperor, his court, the guards and all the servants who had had the misfortune to hear the almost impossible-to-believe words of the foreign emissaries were systematically 'sanitized,' and every trace was erased before it could reach the ears of any Titan or High Tower spy...

And the delegation of twelve adventurers, deserving to be remembered in all the history books of the Golden Empire of Yi Ti, was subsequently hosted in great secrecy in the Starry City.

To this day, The Watcher and the eleven companions are the only accepted and respected spokesmen of the present Jhattar Kutan...

Small and medium-sized conflicts, regulated by secret honour codes and peace tributes agreed upon between the Confederation and all the tribes of the Jogos Nhai, continue unbeknownst to Carcosa's sworn enemies.

Both Braavos and Oldtown are confident that it is precarious for Carcosa to deprive the lands of the Confederacy with more than a third of its war forces.

The immovable threat of more than two hundred thousand Zorse cavalry warriors remains in their eyes a guarantee of an impediment to the magicians, unaware that, in reality, the Confederacy could unleash nearly twice as many militias.

The Spider Queen's cautionary symbol for The Watcher's not-yet-mature disciples is revered, feared and respected throughout the lands of the Jogos Nhai and the Confederation's domains.

The King in The Yellow's value and highest esteem for The Watcher considerably predated the rise of the name that shook the world order...

{"Not now, Chai...I have a disciple who is risking his life right now."} Replied the master in the same language.

{"Pff, 'risking his life.' The Braavosian is already on the edge of a precipice, and they're not even fighting right now."} The Honorable Chief Witch Doctor.

{"Yes, but the tip of that blade is poisoned, and I haven't figured out what the poison is yet."} The Watcher.

{"Easy, it must be an immediate-acting poison: Manticore Poison or Demon Dancer. There would be no point in trying to poison your disciple with other substances that can be neutralized in the long run."} The King in The Yellow.

{"Mmm, you're probably right. What's so urgent? I'm warning you, Chai, if it's yet another offering from Carcosa for my father's technique-"}

{"What do you take me for! For an insensitive two-bit merchant, perhaps? No, it has nothing to do with your invaluable [Gate Locks]...I just want to know what the false sorcerer-loving Andals is confabulating with your former pupil."} Chai Duq.

{"You know very well that I cannot tell you. It's a clear lack of respect and confidentiality of the person."} Zick.

{"So you know...Well, my dear 'respectful' and 'reserved' Watcher, you should have looked away if you really held to your high and honourable morals."} The Watcher had been taken aback.

{"... It's different, and you know it. I 'involuntarily' memorize and translate every image within sight. Also, it is my duty as the 'Neutral' Guardian Guarantor to ensure no violations to host, and guest factions are perpetrated."} The Guardian justified himself.

{"What about the prince of the North and his three companions pretending to be 'adult spectators' under the veil of illusory second-circle magic?

Did this 'violation' escape the unerring eyes of The Watcher?"} Master Zick stiffened and chose silence at the accusation made.

{"Lord Eddard Stark, Warden Nestoris, and Lord Leyton Hightower should at the very least be informed by the 'Watcher Guarantor'... Not to mention the 'unintentional' failure of the 'Neutral Watcher' to inform a very lore-sensitive Old Witch Hermit of the political situation in the North...

Yes, Zick... don't pretend you don't know. I have ruled for more than a century in that den of affabulators, liars and double-crossers of Yin. I know about the little joke you pulled on me in White Harbor, and you know that I know...

But I turned a blind eye by showing generosity and understanding, even agreeing to restore and implement Winterfell's magical defences at my own expense.

So cut out these false formalities, and let's go back to good old 'Favor for a Favor'!"} The Watcher continued to turn his gaze in front of him in silence, and after a slight surrendered sigh, he replied:

{"... Lord Leyton is asking Ser Jon about the [Closing of the Sixteen Gates]."}

"I knew it!... And?"} Chai Duq.

{"Leyton has just ordered Ser Jon to join the great melee of the tournament to face Duncan and attempt to acquire more data on the field."} As soon as Ser Tristan heard the shocking news, a tingle of excitement pervaded his entire body.

Opportunities to test the skills of Oldtown's twenty-one elite warriors were more unique than rare!

{"And can he succeed? Would your former student be able to acquire even a fraction of the technique?"} Chief Sorcerer asked urgently.

{"Jon is a natural in the martial art, 1 in 100,000 are born with such a disposition, but even I, one of the creators of the technique, endowed with unique perceptual mnemonic abilities, could not fully acquire a single manoeuvre by observing or crossing swords in a single sparring session.

I gave Duncan permission to use the technique freely partly because it is almost impossible to replicate without at least months of training and careful guidance."} Master Zick was right. Tristan had no idea how to replicate the eight manoeuvres he had just seen.

Although Zick's pupil had repeated the technique several times, observing it was not enough to understand its nature...

The Chief Sorcerer seemed relieved at the explanation, but then Zick continued:

{"However... Experienced sword artists could still gain benefits and inspirational insights to improve their individual techniques... Many of my boys who tried their hand at tutoring Duncan have benefited greatly, and it seems that even Ser Jaime Lannister could absorb partial changes in his fencing game with a simple, friendly exchange with Duncan... Not bad, to say the least. The Young Lion has enormous potential still dormant..."} Hearing that very rare praise from his former master-at-arms, Tristan's gaze aimed toward the member of the Royal Guard.

Previously, Tristan's expectations had been bitterly disappointed by members of the White Cloak...Decades ago, even to Carcosa's ears came the ballad of King Aerys' celebrated Royal Guard members. But in Tristan's eyes, only that old man named Barristan could stand a chance against the most acerbic member of the Arcane Shields.

The remaining members seemed disappointing, to say the least... Just the title of 'Ser' for that Boros Blunt already seemed like an insult to the memory of all three Great Ancient Orders of Knighthood...

Tristan was dying to teach all those fake 'Swords Consecrated by the Seven' the fundamental requirement for the title of 'Ser'.

'Hmm... Grandmaster Zick judged the arrogant-looking blond worthy... I must have been too carried away by prejudice. I wish I could-' Tristan's thoughts were interrupted by a sacred plea he could not possibly miss.

{"Ser Tristan!"} He called to his lord an instant after the troubling revelation.

{"Yes, my supreme lord."} The Lord Commander of the Twelve Arcane Shields promptly replied.

{"I command you, Ser Braitwur and Ser Ghruklak, to participate in the great fray!"} Chai Duq.

{"It shall be done, my lord."} Tristan's eyes glittered with ardour at his lord's magnanimous gift.

{"Have you gone mad, Chai? Do you want to suffocate my poor pupil by surrounding him on all sides?!

There are already two dozen knights and a half-giant madman yearning to tear him apart!"} Roared Master Zick indignantly.

{"Of course not!... During our brief stay in the North, your pupil will oblige Ser Tristan and his eleven companions by having some friendly sparring in private.

In return, Ser, you and your brethren will prevent Ser Jon and all the irritating flies of Oldtown and Braavos from bothering our friend benefactor during the tournament."} Master Zick failed to answer by being anticipated by a reply in the common tongue:

"Now we are even, my old friend."

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End Chapter.

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