01 - The Price of Talent by Peter Whittlesey Page A

Still, you could have made some time to spend with me. Here I am, sitting in the corner of your room, collecting dust while you go gallivanting about playing outlaw.
     
    As I said, I’m sorry, but I really haven’t had much time. Even now I’m here because the Boss wants to see you.
     
    Oh, I see, not interested in seeing me yourself, you’re only here because THE BOSS wants to see me.
     
    Why is this such a big deal for you?
     
    He asks with archery callouses on his hands. You have time enough to learn how to finger other weapons but not time enough to spend with your sword. I see how it is.
     
    REALLY?! You’re jealous of my learning how to shoot?
     
    I’m your weapon Tyr. ME. I play second fiddle to no one. You’re out shooting bull’s eyes and you still barely even know how to use a steak knife let alone proper swordsmanship.
     
    No one has offered to teach me that yet. Moira was good enough to teach me to shoot because that is what she uses to go hunting and that is what they use when they rob tax collectors and the like.
     
    Oh, of course! Why would a bandit need to know swordsmanship?
     
    Something tells me that if things came to sword fighting the robbery has gone horribly wrong.
     
    “Hey, Tyr, you get lost out there?” The Boss yelled down the hall from his room.
     
    “Sorry, on my way,” I replied.
     
    See, I have been gone too long. Are you going to cooperate?
     
    Fine, but you owe me. First chance you get to learn proper swordsmanship, you jump on it.
     
                  And with that I grabbed the sword by the scabbard and ran back to the Boss’s study.
     
    “That took longer than I was anticipating,” said the Boss.
     
    “Uh, yes sir. Sorry, it took longer to… uh… find it than I thought it would.”
     
    “Would you mind letting me hold it for a bit?”
     
    “Um… Nope.” I said, handing it to him.
     
                  The Boss held the blade lightly by the handle and pulled it free from its sheath. He looked it over critically, eyeing the blade and point.
     
    “This is an interesting blade son. Where did you say you found it?” He asked?
     
    “It was found with me in the wreckage of my family’s farm.” I replied.
     
    “What do you know about it?”
     
    “Not much honestly. It’s longer and thinner than the swords I see you all were carrying with you when you rescued me.”
     
    “I see… Well, that’s because we tend to use broadswords, and this is something else entirely. You see, a broad sword, or arming sword, is designed for cut and thrust close quarters combat. It is equally good at stabbing or hacking through armor. Hence the thicker blade. They are fairly common in this area of the world, so we have managed to pick up a few in our various enterprises. This, however, is a Spada or Espada, depending on where in the world you ask. It is thinner and longer for better reach and thrusts. It still has a useful blade though, so not totally useless for slashing. It is more of a dueling sword than one designed for military use,” he explained.
     
    Not totally useless for slashing? I’ll show him, that bastard. I’m a better slasher than that slab sided, unwieldy, fat ass short sword he has in the corner there.
     
    Really, now you’re bitching? I thought you wanted some attention? Now you’re getting it.
     
    I’ll show him. I’ll cut that crappy pig iron poker in half.
     
    “It’s a nice blade, if not generally used in these parts. Civilians are not typically allowed swords in the Empire, so dueling is out of the question. Guards tend to be ex-military and stick with the weapons they were trained with. I’m a little surprised at seeing one like this. I haven’t seen one since my military days…”
     
    Oh yes, listen to the great general of the forest! I bet he has led many a deer into battle. Successful too no doubt. I’m sure he’s just living in the forest right now as a clever ruse to evade his many enemies carrying