Ridirean Naomha nan Diathan

Teaching the Young soldier a lesson - Warrior Wednesday

The young man glared at Patryg.  “I didn't give you permission to....”  He sputtered as the monk ignored him and started to step around him.  “Hey, don't ignore me....”  He turned at the waist and uncoiled, driving the pike towards Patryg's chest.

I can't believe you did that.   Patryg had watched the young soldier's every move and shook his head as the young man acted as predicted.    Without missing a beat, he took a half-step to the right, catching the haft of the pike between his arm and his side as he twisted to the right.  The young soldier, not expecting this, was pulled off balance.  You can either take a step forward and keep hold of your weapon or let go and take a step back.  Which is it going to be, young man?

The monk saw the indecision on the youth's face and took a half-step back, giving the weapon another tug toward him.  He watched as the young man attempted to hold on to the weapon while also trying to step back. For an instant, the two were engaged in a tug-a-war over the weapon.  With the next step the young man took back, Patryg gave way and allowed him to pull the weapon back, but only until his gauntleted hand rested against the rondel at the base of the blade.

 Let's see if you can hold off if I do this…  He pushed down on the pike, forcing the blade towards the ground.  At the same time, he stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the soldier.  He watched the soldier's expression go from one of disdain to one of fear as he took another step.  By carefully loosening his hold on the weapon, he allowed his hand to slide up to the middle of the staff, then tightened his grip again before applying downward pressure.  Soon, the soldier would have only two choices: either attempt to hold on to the weapon and risk serious injury when the monk got within dagger reach of his body or let go and reach for the sword at his side.

Which is it going be, young man?  Patryg took another step toward the soldier, his hand moving up another few inches, still applying that downward pressure.  He was only slightly shocked as the young man retained his grip on the weapon.  What are they teaching soldiers now?  To hold onto weapons at any cost?  Can they be that stupid?  As he took the step that would bring him to close arms range, he reached down and started to draw his dagger from its sheath. 

 “You wouldn't dare,” the soldier grunted as he noticed the movement, “I'm a member of the king's guard.”  He paled as the monk drew the blade from the leather sheath and brought it up across his chest, angling it slightly downwards towards the soldier's abdomen.  Too late, he let go of the pike and tried to create distance between him and the monk.  “I.....I.....”

 “You are an idiot, private.”  The lieutenant stated as he returned from the throne room and saw his partner attempting to retreat from the older monk who was holding his weapon.  “King Calyb will see you now.”  He addressed Patryg, who acknowledged him with a nod.

“Your weapon, private.” The monk offered the soldier his weapon back.  When the private glared at him, he returned the look of hatred with one of calm understanding.  When the soldier made no move to regain his weapon, the monk sheathed his dagger.  “You have two choices, soldier.  You can either take your weapon back, “ he said calmly, “or you can abandon it.”  He looked at the Lieutenant, “However, I've known Lieutenant Smith since he was a raw recruit, and know that he taught you never to abandon your weapon.”   When the soldier refused to move, the lieutenant closed his eyes for the barest of moments.  “For god's sake, take your weapon, private.”  He snapped.  “He's not going to hurt you, so take your weapon before I get to it first and hit you over the head with it.”

“Yes, sir.” The private walked over to Patryg and grabbed the pike with a low growl. 

Oh yes, he wants to kill me.  Patryg saw the open look of hatred on the guard's face.  Here's hoping that Calyb doesn't order us killed.  The lieutenant turned from the disgruntled private and offered a half-bow to the monk.  “If you'll follow me, I'll take you to Calyb's throne room.”  When the younger soldier made a noise of disbelief, the lieutenant glanced back at him. “You have something to say, Private?” 

There's very little love between those two.  It's almost as if the lieutenant has to work with that boorish young man.  Patryg watched as the private pointed at him.  “Aren't we going to take their weapons?” 

“No, private, we aren't.”  The lieutenant looked at the monks and shrugged.  What are you going to do? 

What indeed,  Patryg answered with a shrug of his own. 

“Why not?  They are obviously dangerous.”  The private's voice rose until it was almost a scream.  “That one,” he jabbed his finger at Patryg, “attacked me and took my weapon.” 

The lieutenant stopped and turned to examine the private.  “That's funny.  I don't see any blood or tears on your uniform.  If he attacked you, it doesn't show.”

“If you gentlemen will follow me, the throne room is this way,” the lieutenant commented as he led the ten men into the castle proper.