Accidental Merlin

Chapter 8: PSA - Dont Try To Break Up Fights

So that's how we met, me being an idiot, standing out and showing off, him being the overachieving swordsman recruit number 2.

We didn't immediately become best friends and go roaming off as an adventuring duo. Nor did we hate each other but become friends due to our mutual respect for each other's skills. This was not a buddy cop movie.

As to me showing off ... I was good at swordsmanship, instinctually good, a natural. I don't think that it was built up resentment from always staying below the radar, never standing out, always achieving 78% when 80% got you an A, had anything to do with it. The Walk had largely made me forget my ego. The 1800+ years of walking had given me a much longer perspective and those sorts of thing seemed, (I don't know how to say this without sounding like I am showing off) unworthy.

I don't think it was the appreciation or the adulation either, I actually found that distasteful. Like with pride, it seemed too much to me, too sweet, cloying. I think the closest term I could think of to describe why I was "showing off" was that I thought it was necessary. John, a time traveller, had left me with a trove of weapons and an imprint of how to use them. On some primal lizard brain level this must have registered as must learn fighting for safety reasons. Hence, I thought it was necessary.

So anyway, back to the actual story.

We didn't become best friends immediately, actually immediately afterwards I was promoted to sword instructor for Private David's team. David was healed and locked inside an old crumbling leftover roman building from when Leicester used to be used as a garrison station by the romans. It must have been the roman brig as well, the windows had iron bars and the door only had locks on the outside.

I finished the sword practice for the day, by this point everyone was familiar with the basics of sword play and could probably be trusted to not stab themselves with the sword, and we had started to incorporate shield work with the sword practice.

After we were dismissed from sword practice, I re-joined Mark's team as a recruit. We were led through a 10 lap run around the camp ground, to help improve our endurance. This as I said before, was thought to be the most important thing.

The endurance training had obviously started to work; the others weren't as utterly exhausted after a day as they used to be. We washed up after our run and had our supper. Isiah and I decided to head out to the local tavern. Some, like Josiah went whoring. Even Fred had found things to do, talking to the farmers at the evening Markets.

We were through our third pint of mead (for me) and ale (for Isiah) when we were joined by Corporal Mark and the injured Corporal Robert. Rob was recovering well, having followed my advice and we were starting to become friends. "I heard you bested three today" Rob said with his ever present smile.

I coughed and looked down. Isiah looked to the left and away from Mark. It was embarrassing for a recruit to beat his own instructor, let alone in a 1 vs 3 fight.

"I wasn't even the final man alive" Mark said with fake anger.

"Was the other newbie really that good?" Robert asked surprised, he had heard of the victory but not the play by play.

"He wasn't as skilled as the Corporal, maybe as good as Private Thomas, but he had real battle experience as fighting as a part of a team. He knew how to throw off my timing. And that first parry which saved the Corporal ... it wasn't something you could do without having some experience in group battles." I said analysing the fight

"The Corporal, here, almost won, he should have won. Any other strike and it was an assured victory. It took an incredibly lucky kick for me to win." I said humbling myself.