Chunk 4
A little ahead yesterday, a little behind today. I might be getting close to the end of Chapter One, though, so that's good. :)

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Roscha nodded. "Makes sense I suppose." He shrugged and worked on gnawing off a corner of his bread.

They sat in the sun and ate. The meager meal always quieted the boys down for a few minutes, but they were boys and soon the younger ones were finished eating and chasing each other about the yard. Luka could see that they were neither as quick nor as nimble as they'd been, that the jumps over the water trough to one side were both fewer and lower than before, but the ones swarming around playing -- the littler ones who had between seven and ten or so years -- could forget the rest of the world. Or at least set it aside for a while.

Roscha leaned over so his shoulder bumped Luka's and pointed to a couple of students scrambling up the rough-finished stone toward the catwalk over the gate, ignoring the wooden ladder. "Are they supposed to be doing that?"

Luka felt the warmth of solid muscle pressing against him and remembered staring at those shoulders the night before. He shifted away a little and said, "Not really but they do anyway. I only thrash them for it if they fall."

A snort answered him. "You're definitely a teacher." Roscha grinned at him. His eyes were grey and bright with humor, and the sun-weathered skin beside them crinkled when he smiled.

Luka stood looked around for Tochi, perhaps a bit more urgently than usual. "I have to go to work," he said without looking at Roscha. "You're welcome to watch if you like."

Of course he was -- what, was he going to send the man inside and instruct him not to look out for the rest of the afternoon? He spotted Tochi talking to one of the youngsters and called his name, then tilted his head toward the open area where they sparred.

Tochi nodded and trotted off for the practice swords. By the time he came back, Luka had stripped off his shirt and loosened up a little, although he still felt a tight awareness of their guest. A quick look over his shoulder showed him that Roscha had shifted over to the shade, but was otherwise still sitting on the ground watching, an open, curious expression on his face.

He's a sheep man, Luka reminded himself. He's probably never seen warriors working, not up close. Of course he's curious.

He took his long wooden swords from Tochi. They were polished blackwood, hard and worn, the same swords his father had used. His hands fit the grips without thought, as though the weapons simply extended his arms. He knew exactly where they were, where the edges and points were, at all times, the same way he knew where his own hands and feet were.

Tochi took a stance, one sword held across his chest and the other poised over his shoulder, and waited. Luka nodded, then just attacked without taking a ready position first.

Their swords whirled and swung and rebounded, crack-crack-kacrack. Luka and Tochi both attacked and parry with either sword from instant to instant, circling each other in a cyclone of wood that could and often did crack bones and leave deep bruises.

Luka was aware of the other students watching but he knew they'd stay out of the way, out of respect for both the combatants and the weapons. Beyond that, though, he was aware of a pair of curious grey eyes on him, watching him. He became self-conscious of his body and his movements, of his lack of a shirt even though he always practiced without one when the weather was this hot, and those eyes in the shadow against the wall drew more of his attention until he was hard-pressed to focus on Tochi.

Tochi grinned at him through gritted teeth and went on the offensive.

Luka had collected a bruise on his thigh, another on his upper arm, and a whipping cut across the shoulder where Tochi'd sliced him with the sharp wooden tip of one blade, and had given only a hard crack to the ribs in return. He wondered whether Roscha was watching how his muscles moved, then wrenched his attention back to the fight.

If it were Tochi whose mind was wandering like that, he'd have beaten him into the ground as a lesson. Distraction killed and Luka well knew it.

His pride was saved a similar lesson when one of the boys over the gate called, "Master? There's a mob coming!"

Luka disengaged and stepped back, swords at guard until he was sure Tochi had withdrawn as well, then paused to listen. The low rumble of voices echoed over the wall, along with the occasional shouted oath. He tossed his swords to Tochi and trotted over to the wall and up the ladder. He'd hoped the boy on watch was mistaken, or that the approaching crowd would pass by, but the shouting got louder when he looked over the parapet.

Someone called his name and he searched the crowd. Of course, Halvic the smith scowled up at him.