WOT Adv 155

--- The Wheel Turns ---
The next day passed quickly. Preparations were made for the journey in the morning. There was, in reality, little to do other than pack clothes and belongings.

Keb had left early in the morning to pay a portion of the fee to secure their passage on the The Pelican's Wing, and, "to do some shopping" as she had put it.

With the packing completed, there was little else to do for the rest of the day. Fiznak passed some time with Eliesanna, instructing her on the basics of using a sword. Her long blond hair was tied in a sensible braid down her back, and the men's clothing she wore only seemed to accentuate her figure.

"Good. Now move your feet," Finzak called out, his own blade in his hands. "Like this." Fiznak shuffled his feat, moving his sword through one of the forms that Maynard had shown him. "Now you try."

Two hours passed and Fiznak repeated the form again and again. Maer simply watched, squatting in the shade of the building, a hard expression on his face. Even though it was crisp and cool in the autumn weather, Fiznak had long since broken a sweat. Eliesanna glowed with perspiration as well.

"Now, lets try some sparing. Slowly, of course. We don't want to have any accidents." Fiznak raised his sword and slowly brought it in a thrust towards her neck. She tried to parry but was too slow. His blade whisked up and stopped just inches of her throat. Her breasts rose and fell with her heavy breathing as she stood motionless. He lowered the blade.

"Excellent. You have promise, lass." He smiled at her and to his satisfaction she smiled back.

"Well, I have a good teacher." She replied and then lowered her eyes as if somewhat embarrassed at his comment.

Fiznak found himself staring at her, and he barely parried a blow aimed at his chest when she came at him in a flash of movement. Fiznak's eyes widened and he stepped back, instantly alert. Light! She nearly put a foot of steel in my chest!

Again and again they worked through the basic forms of attack and defense. The clang of steel on steel echoed through the stableyard and soon the fence was lined with stable boys who whispered back and forth, their eyes wide with wonder, the sounds of sparring punctuated with the occassional "Ooooo" or "Ahhhh".

She came at him, her blade held low with both hands. She thrust it at his midsection just as he'd taught her. He parried easily, beat down her guard, wheeled around behind her, and slapped her bottom with the flat of his sword. Fiznak grinned and gave her a courtly bow. "Milady. I think I'm going to enjoy these practice sessions."

Her eyes flashed and she swung at his left leg, he moved to parry and after steel met steel she switched to swinging at his right side, but as he brought his blade up again, she changed directions and her blade slashed across Fiznak's already dented breastplate.

"Blood and ash--- uhh," Fiznak caught himself and stepped backwards. "You have good improvisation, and you're quick, both those are qualities that may save you in a fight. But there's still much you need to learn." With that, Fiznak came at her again, getting inside her guard in a series of complex moves, and he disarmed her sending her blade flying. Again and again, he repeated the maneuver until her eyes flashed with anger. The blade lay in the dirt near her feet. She scowled at him.

"We're not done yet. Go get it!" Fiznak grinned and kicked her lightly in her rump to send her in the direction of the fallen sword. She picked up the blade, then turned. She walked slowly towards him, letting her hips sway unconsciously in such a way that Fiznak's concentration was severely tested, and he found himself almost goggling.

A smile crossed her lips. "Milord, you are too cruel." Then she launched herself at him, overhand swing, followed by a thrust, and then another thrust, then another swing. The swing knocked aside his blade, and forced him back, he stepped, and then tripped over something. A moment later he he found himself sitting in the horse's water trough. Her blade was at his throat. The children on the fence clapped and cheered.

"I think we're done for today. If we keep going, you'll forget this is a practice and will put me in an early grave."

"I wouldn't kill such a handsome man." She said. He searched her face and her eyes locked with his, her blade did not move.

"Yes... well..." Fiznak said, his glance going to the tip of her sword. "Mind moving that?"

"Not at all." She said and sheathed the sword. "I thank you for my training, milord." With that, she turned and walked inside the inn. Fiznak stood and dripped water. The children laughed good naturedly.

Even Maer's stoic face twitched in a smile and he sighed. "She learns quickly. She would have made a good maiden of the spear."

Fiznak nodded and started toward the inn. "I'm going to wash up."

...

Fiznak, clean and refreshed, picked a spot in the late afternoon sun in the commons room, and pulled out a chair. Then he pulled out his flute from its case and stood on the chair. There weren't a lot of people in the inn at this hour, but there were some. Enough to play a song to, and, if he was lucky, to earn some coin.

He smiled at the patrons. "A few tunes from the boarderlands, my good friends." He started with a lilting, lively melody and advanced through his repretoir of songs. The mood in the room moved with his songs and an hour later, he finally bowed to a crowd that clapped and tossed coins, calling out for more. Even Master Rovick looked pleased and nodded gratefully.

Fiznak bowed and stepped from the chair and then picked up the several silver and copper pennies that glinted on the floor.

He grabbed a small stable boy and whispered something in his ear and handed him a few coins. The boy nodded excitedly and then dashed away. Fiznak tucked away the flute and approached the table where Maeslyn and Eliesanna were watching.

"You have some real talent there," Maeslyn smiled at him. "It's good to hear you play."

"He is a man of many talents, Maeslyn Sedai." Eliesanna nodded, also smiling at him, her eyes never leaving his face.

Fiznak ate the evening meal with the women. He had invited Maer, but the Aiel had decided to go down the the docks. Fiznak didn't mind though. More time with the women, he said to himself. He chatted amicably with them. They discussed the next leg of their journey and again pondered the singularity of the strange vision they had seen above the field of battle just days ago.

Soon the boy returned and handed Fiznak something wrapped carefully in a cloth. He looked inside and kept his face impassive. The women were curious, though.

"What is it, Fiznak?" Maeslyn asked.

"Oh, just a little something to show my appreciation." He pulled out a few wild flowers, a burst of yellow mingled with royal purple and blue, their fragrance was heady. He grinned at them. It had cost him a pretty penny, and was entirely worth it. He had hoped Maeslyn would have been alone, but... to ignore Eliesanna would have been blatantly rude.

The flowers' petals were beaded with small droplets of water. He gently put some in Maeslyn's chestut hair and some in Eliesanna's golden waves. 'Light! What they must think,' Fiznak wondered.

"My thanks," Maeslyn said, her face serene and cool, her voice held a tone of genuine thanks, but it was tempered by... something. Fiznak shrugged

"They are beautiful!" Eliesanna blushed and grinned happily. "I've never had flowers put in my hair by... by a lord."

"He's not techinally a lord, child." Maeslyn said, eyeing the boarderlander.

"Well, not even by a man, even," Eliesanna said and her faced beamed with thanks.

Fiznak found that hard to believe. She was beautiful, intelligent, witty. Surely some other fool would have put flowers in her hair before he had. He couldn't understand Maeslyn's mood though. She was polite, genuinely thankful for the flowers, yet she... didn't seem... he couldn't place it. Women... Easier to understand the sun, or so the saying went.

Just then Keb walked in the door and approached. Fiznak's eyes immediately went to the sword at her hip, a slender blade with an ivory hilt, intricately carved and inlaid with silver.

"So you did go shopping, did you?" Maeslyn's eyebrow rose up.

"As a matter of fact, yes. Oh, don't worry, I paid my fee on the boat as well. That's all taken care of; we leave at dawn.

"So, do you like it?" Keb pulled out the blade and laid it on the table. Fiznak picked it up and ran his fingers along the edge. It had been well made. Very well made. The balance was nearly perfect. He pulled his finger away and sucked on it.

"Bloody sharp!"

Keb nodded happily. "A master swordsmith had it for sell, and I simply couldn't say no. So is everyone ready to go sailing tomorrow? Where's Maer? Light, I can't wait to see Maer's face when he gets on that boat! He is going on the boat isn't he?" Keb asked Maeslyn.

"You'll have to ask him," Maeslyn sighed. "Well, Keb, it's a nice looking sword. I would love to talk, but it's getting late and we have to leave early in the morning. I beg your leave." She rose, bowed politely, and left the commons room and up the stairs to her room. Eliesanna watched her go, her eyes held a considering look.

...

Maer grunted as he lifted the last barrell onto a waiting ship.

"That's it! We's all done fer the day." The old dock master called out. He turned to Maer. "Take yer pay and git!" He dropped a few copper coins into Maers hand.

Maer nodded and was about to say something polite, when the man's face scruched up in a sour expression. "Light-blasted aaaaeeil! I was there when ya'll came like locusts before over the dragon wall. Now git!"

Maer shrugged. He was tired and sore too. He had worked most of the afternoon and well into the night, barrell after barrell he had moved out onto the dock and into various ships. The light had danced across the water as it lapped about the beams of the dock. He had stared at the water. So much water. He had peered as far as he could and had found nothing but water... and then even more water. It was frightening. But, he reasoned, surely the three-fold land was just as frightening to the wetlanders, a sea of sand and dunes. He could and would conquer this fear.

He had hoped to learn something more of the boy he had seen in the vision. But there was nothing. Oh, the wetlanders had talked, but they just worked their jaws. What was rumor and what was substance? He wasn't looking forward to spending the night in the itchy stable, but, he knew he didn't have the coin for more expensive lodgings. He sighed and made his way back to The Dancing Badger.