SWORD MAIDEN OF SEKHMET

Chapter 21: The Secret

It was late in the day as Ashayt threaded her way through the oasis.

Far beyond the Nile, the Sun was beginning to fall over the western desert, little more than a sand-coloured haze in the distance.

It was perhaps two hours until darkness, more than enough time, she thought, as her sandals crunched over the broken stone. Seb had suggested they meet on the North side of the oasis, just where it met the desert. He had described a circle of palm trees that created a natural space in which they would not be seen.

It was as he had said.

She found the place quite easily, but could see nothing since the gaps between the trees were filled with bushes. She called his name quietly.

There was no reply, then suddenly he appeared through an almost invisible gap between two palms. In his hands he held two of the wooden practice Khopesh swords. He bowed.

"Well-met, Seb," she said. "Shall we get started?"

"Yes, My Lady."

She followed him back through the gap in the bushes and found herself in a small clearing with a sandy floor. It was a perfect natural arena. She could see only Seb's footprints in the sand, so it was unlikely that anyone else came there.

Seb immediately turned to face her and took up a fighting stance.

"Hey, hold fast!" Ashayt said, "First we talk. You fight with your mind, not just your body - and there are things you must learn first."

He lowered his sword.

"Alright," he said, reluctantly.

"What is the main principle of fighting?"

"That's easy: to beat your opponent," Seb said.

Ashayt shook her head.

"No? Then what is?"

"To encourage your opponent to beat himself," she answered.

"How so?" he said, looking puzzled.

"By forcing him to make mistakes. By helping him to tire himself out. By using speed rather than strength. There will always be stronger opponents: the trick is to use their strength against them - not to meet it head on."

"What happens if you meet an opponent who is both stronger and faster?" said Seb cheekily.

"Then you're in trouble," she replied, laughing.

Ashayt continued to talk, passing on all the lessons that had been drummed into her during her training as a Sword Maiden. She realised that much of the teaching was for women who might have to fight men, but she reckoned that the same ideas could work for anyone. Seb was quite slightly built and would not be fully grown for several years, so he would be more likely to win through speed rather than muscle. Above all, he had to learn how to think.

After more of this, she could see that he was growing tired of the talk - and probably still doubted whether she really knew what she was talking about. Seb's eyes widened for a moment as she pulled her dress over her head, but beneath it was the white linen tunic he had delivered to her room earlier in the day.

Like being a novice again, she thought.

She raised her sword.

"Alright, Sebek-Hotep, come at me as you wish."

He ran at her, his sword raised high, obviously still believing that her talk of her skill was probably just that - talk. His sword met only empty air, as she stepped quickly to one side, not even bothering to parry. He swung to face her and charged in again, this time with his sword sweeping sideways at what would have been her shield side, had she been carrying one. Faster than he could follow, she switched the Khopesh to her left hand, batted away the blow then swung her blade back to score it across his chest. She did this lightly, so the only thing likely to have been hurt was his pride.

It went on like this for a few minutes, with Seb failing to land a single blow and Ashayt scoring several. She knew it was unfair: besides her superior skills, she was a head taller than the boy and her reach was longer. But equally, she thought, he might one day have to face a real opponent with those advantages.

She called a halt. Seb was breathing heavily and she could see that he now looked at her with much more respect than earlier. But he was also downcast.

"Listen," she said, realising she had to boost his confidence, "one thing is certain: you have the first requirement of a successful sword fighter - courage..."

His shoulders lifted a little at her words.

"...but what we have to do is add technique to that courage. Then you will be formidable."

For the next hour, they worked in slow motion, as she began to teach him moves that would defend against some of the main forms of attack.

"Most fights are won with your feet," she explained, "because only your feet can get you out of trouble."

"But everything you say is about defence," he complained, "what about attack."

"First things first," Ashayt replied. "Once you've repulsed every possible attack by an enemy, you're facing a frustrated man - and a tired one. Who'll make mistakes. Then attack becomes easy."

Looking up at the sky she realised that darkness was approaching fast.

"Come," she said, "that's enough for the first lesson. We could continue tomorrow at the same time..." she paused, looking directly into his eyes, "...but only if you want to."

He smiled broadly then gave her one of his deeper bows.

"I would like that very much, My Lady."

She let him go first, then slowly walked back through the darkening oasis, her body feeling so much better for the exercise.

As she neared the entrance to the Temple, she heard a Jackal's cry in the distance and a chill ran down her spine.

©Adriana Nicolas 2016