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As soon as Lord Kyndreth put in an appearance and had bro-ken his
fast, the rest of the day was spent in an odd role- reversal, as Kyrtian
tutored the older Lord in the magic ofmock-combat.
It felt awkward. It was also dangerous work, and not from amagical
standpoint. Somehow Kyrtian had to simultaneously be teacher and deferential
(but not groveling) Lesser Lord toKyndreth's Greater. Kyrtian walked a narrow
line betweenthose two extremes, and he dared not deviate from it, if he wanted
Lord Kyndreth's protection.
But Lord Kyndreth wanted this knowledge badly enough to exert
himself to be accommodating and charming, and slowlyKyrtian began to relax,
forget about his own careful pose, and simply instruct.
He'd called in all of his fighters to act as subjects for
thepractice, though initially the magic was only cast on one. Kyrt- ian was
sure enough of his own mastery that he reckoned he could counter any mistakes
Lord Kyndreth made before theycaused any harm, and it was a very real measure
of the trust his men had in him that the fighters took that for granted,
standing relaxed and unconcerned while Lord Kyndreth felt his waythrough the
weaving of the complicated magery the first time. Ittook a fine touch, a
delicate touch, to ensure that the fighter en-spelled felt enough of a warning
tingle to tell him that he'dbeen hit, even in the excitement of combat yet was
kept from actually beinghurt, which would be counterproductive.
"This is the opposite of the way we train our gladiators
now,"Kyndreth observed, pausing to wipe his brow with a spotless scrap of
white silk, which he then dropped, without thinkingabout it, on the ground
behind him. His own man automaticallyretrieved the handkerchief and stepped
back again. Kyndreth
never even noticed. "When they practice, even with blunted weapons,
the point is that theywill be hurt if they allow a blow to fall, and so their
defense-work is supposed to improve."
"Yes, but if that blow falls, even in practice, it can disable
aman," Kyrtian pointed out, as the fighter waited patiently for Kyndreth to
complete the spellcasting. "What's the good of learning from your mistake if
you end up losing so much time in recovering from your injury that you have to
go back to thebeginning again? Conditioning is as important as training, or
somy experience leads me to believe."
"Oh, you are arguing with the converted, young friend,"Kyndreth
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chuckled, casually massaging his hands as if they feltstiff. "I've lost far
too many fine and promising specimensper-manentlyto so-called 'training
accidents.' It's a costly business too costly, when now we need fighters
forreal combat morethan we need gladiators." He resumed the task before him,
and the fighter began to have a faintly glowing aura.
"In the case of men who are stubborn about acknowledging hits, I do
set it high enough to hurt, though," Kyrtian admitted, as he supervised Lord
Kyndreth's effort. "There are some fel-lows who get so worked up during a
fight that nothing less thanreal pain seems to get through to them."
"Those men I would put in the front lines," Kyndreth ob-served
wryly, with a side glance at Kyrtian. "If they are that im-pervious. I've seen
a few of those; they have a kind of madnessin battle. It's useful if they're
in the front line, but they're as much a danger to friend as to foe anywhere
else. I put 'em onthe point of a thrust; let them carve their way in, and
takeground behind them with fighters that can keep their heads."
Kyrtian nodded, although he hated to think ofany of his fighters
being in the front lines of real combat. His eyes nar-rowed as he kept track
of Lord Kyndreth's progress. "There "he cautioned. "That is exactly the level
you can usually set it at.That's perfect." As Kyndreth let go of his control
of the fieldaround the fighter, Kyrtian flexed his shoulders to ease some
ofthe strain in them. "Now we build the weapon." He smiled."That's not as
difficult; it's just a little different from a truly ex-pert illusion."
Once Kyndreth had the initial magic set, he was able toswiftly make
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