Seeds of Rebellion
Page 57
“It explains much,” Galloran said. “The grafted ear must be how Maldor learned what information Tark had brought us from Jason. Also why the emperor moved against Jugard and Malar shortly before Nedwin arrived to retrieve them. Not to mention why our foes have put their recent efforts into the ambush.”
“Which would have succeeded had Nedwin not discovered it,” Ferrin said.
“Can you take off the ear?” Tark asked.
“I can. It shouldn’t even be too hard. As is common with ears, the grafting is shallow. The inner workings of the ear still belong to Nedwin.”
“Then how can the displacer hear with it?” Jason asked.
“The external portion of the ear gathers the sound vibrations,” Ferrin said. “While sharing the same outer ear, the inner ear of the displacer receives the same vibrations as Nedwin’s inner ear. When we remove the ear, Nedwin should manage to retain much of his hearing on that side.”
Rachel winced.
Jason rubbed his ear, trying not to wonder how it would feel to have it cut off.
“But we’ll wait to remove the ear,” Galloran said.
“We’ll keep Nedwin away from any serious discussions,” Ferrin said. “And we’ll do our best to stage planning sessions full of misinformation.”
“You two already started,” Rachel said.
“Right,” Ferrin said. “Thankfully Galloran followed my lead.”
“Then we’ll be looping around Three Peaks to the east,” Aram said.
“And going nowhere near Port Hamblin,” Ferrin confirmed. “We’ll still proceed with caution, in case the displacer realizes that we’ve caught on.”
“You’ve done us a great service, Ferrin,” Galloran said. “Had that ear gone undetected, it could have undone us. Thank you.”
“Just doing my job,” Ferrin replied. “I’ve already explained the situation to Nedwin by whispering in his authentic ear. He’s been serving as a scout, and he should simply continue in that role. It will keep him far from our more delicate conversations.”
“We’ll proceed to the Sunken Lands as previously planned,” Galloran said. “But we’ll mask our movements with a persistent flow of misleading conversations. We should get underway. Given the forces awaiting us, we’re closer to Three Peaks than I would prefer.”
Several days later, Jason stood before Ferrin, gripping his sword in a sweaty palm. They faced each other in a clearing encompassed by tall trees. Daylight was waning. While he worked with Ferrin, and Rachel practiced with Chandra, the others were setting up camp.
“You really want me to attack?” Jason asked.
So far their sparring sessions had entailed Jason learning footwork while defending himself against a blunted practice sword Galloran had lent to Ferrin. The dummy blades were made of metal, and it hurt when Ferrin poked or clipped him.
“You’ve been waiting for this,” Ferrin said, swishing his practice sword. “Attack me with all you have. Give no thought to defense. I won’t bruise you. Mark me if you can.”
Unlike previous practices, today Jason held his real sword. Ferrin had insisted that as a displacer, he could avoid serious wounds from an edged weapon.
Implementing the stance Ferrin had taught him, Jason balanced himself, knees slightly bent, ready to move in any direction. “I just come at you?”
“With everything you have. You’ve been asking me to let you attack. Here’s your opportunity.”
“Lop off his head, Jason!” Aram called.
Jason edged forward warily.
“I’m on the defensive,” Ferrin reminded him. “You must bring the fight to me.”
Jason nervously chewed the lining of his mouth. He wished Aram weren’t watching. He began tentatively, somewhat concerned about injuring his teacher.
“This is embarrassing,” Ferrin goaded, slapping Jason’s sword aside.
Jason put more power into his swings, and his sword began to clash with Ferrin’s, the blades ringing through the clearing.
“Attack me, not my sword,” Ferrin said.
That proved tricky, since the sword was always in the way.
“Don’t fret about a counterattack,” Ferrin encouraged. “Take advantage of the situation. Use reckless abandon. I will not strike at you.”
Jason pressed in closer, hacking wildly. The displacer stood his ground, deflecting blows directed at his neck, chest, and legs. Jason broke his rhythm of chopping and suddenly lunged forward, stabbing at Ferrin’s heart. The displacer casually parried the thrust.
“Better,” Ferrin said. “Now show me some real vigor.”
Jason charged, his blade hissing through the air. Instead of intercepting the blow with his sword, the displacer dodged away. Jason stayed after him. Relying on clever footwork and feinting, Ferrin evaded every swing without using his sword. Jason began to tire.
“Are you appreciating the beauty of defensive footwork?” Ferrin asked.
Jason nodded, brushing sweaty strands of hair away from his eyes.
“Had enough?” Ferrin inquired. “This may be the only time I allow you to engage me recklessly.”
Forgetting all caution, ignoring proper footwork, Jason rushed the displacer, getting so close before swinging that he could not imagine the displacer merely dodging the blow. But Ferrin ducked and spun away. Jason kept after him, grunting as he wielded his sword like a baseball bat, swinging relentlessly.
Finally compelled to use his sword again, Ferrin deflected the mighty strokes. “You have strength,” the displacer conceded. “Issue blows like that, and an unprepared opponent might drop his weapon.”
Jason kept coming. Eluding an overzealous swing, the displacer patted Jason on the shoulder. “Of course, swinging too hard can also leave you defenseless.”
After a final energetic onslaught, Jason stepped back, panting. “I’m done.”
“You showed tenacity,” Ferrin said.
“You were impossible to touch.”
“I was entirely on the defensive. I could have held you off all night. Or slain you any number of times. The best openings often occur when an opponent is on the offensive. Go practice footwork.”
Jason felt silly, dancing around alone with his sword, going through all the drills Ferrin had taught him. He took some relief in the fact that Lyrian had no video recorders or Internet connections.
It had been fun attacking Ferrin. Jason wished he could have surprised him by penetrating his defenses, but consoled himself that his inability to do so was evidence that he was learning from the best. The displacer really was a great teacher: patient, direct, specific, and very knowledgeable. Drake and Aram had provided pointers as well, but Ferrin had proved to be the most thorough and methodical instructor and had supervised most of the tutoring.
“Which would have succeeded had Nedwin not discovered it,” Ferrin said.
“Can you take off the ear?” Tark asked.
“I can. It shouldn’t even be too hard. As is common with ears, the grafting is shallow. The inner workings of the ear still belong to Nedwin.”
“Then how can the displacer hear with it?” Jason asked.
“The external portion of the ear gathers the sound vibrations,” Ferrin said. “While sharing the same outer ear, the inner ear of the displacer receives the same vibrations as Nedwin’s inner ear. When we remove the ear, Nedwin should manage to retain much of his hearing on that side.”
Rachel winced.
Jason rubbed his ear, trying not to wonder how it would feel to have it cut off.
“But we’ll wait to remove the ear,” Galloran said.
“We’ll keep Nedwin away from any serious discussions,” Ferrin said. “And we’ll do our best to stage planning sessions full of misinformation.”
“You two already started,” Rachel said.
“Right,” Ferrin said. “Thankfully Galloran followed my lead.”
“Then we’ll be looping around Three Peaks to the east,” Aram said.
“And going nowhere near Port Hamblin,” Ferrin confirmed. “We’ll still proceed with caution, in case the displacer realizes that we’ve caught on.”
“You’ve done us a great service, Ferrin,” Galloran said. “Had that ear gone undetected, it could have undone us. Thank you.”
“Just doing my job,” Ferrin replied. “I’ve already explained the situation to Nedwin by whispering in his authentic ear. He’s been serving as a scout, and he should simply continue in that role. It will keep him far from our more delicate conversations.”
“We’ll proceed to the Sunken Lands as previously planned,” Galloran said. “But we’ll mask our movements with a persistent flow of misleading conversations. We should get underway. Given the forces awaiting us, we’re closer to Three Peaks than I would prefer.”
Several days later, Jason stood before Ferrin, gripping his sword in a sweaty palm. They faced each other in a clearing encompassed by tall trees. Daylight was waning. While he worked with Ferrin, and Rachel practiced with Chandra, the others were setting up camp.
“You really want me to attack?” Jason asked.
So far their sparring sessions had entailed Jason learning footwork while defending himself against a blunted practice sword Galloran had lent to Ferrin. The dummy blades were made of metal, and it hurt when Ferrin poked or clipped him.
“You’ve been waiting for this,” Ferrin said, swishing his practice sword. “Attack me with all you have. Give no thought to defense. I won’t bruise you. Mark me if you can.”
Unlike previous practices, today Jason held his real sword. Ferrin had insisted that as a displacer, he could avoid serious wounds from an edged weapon.
Implementing the stance Ferrin had taught him, Jason balanced himself, knees slightly bent, ready to move in any direction. “I just come at you?”
“With everything you have. You’ve been asking me to let you attack. Here’s your opportunity.”
“Lop off his head, Jason!” Aram called.
Jason edged forward warily.
“I’m on the defensive,” Ferrin reminded him. “You must bring the fight to me.”
Jason nervously chewed the lining of his mouth. He wished Aram weren’t watching. He began tentatively, somewhat concerned about injuring his teacher.
“This is embarrassing,” Ferrin goaded, slapping Jason’s sword aside.
Jason put more power into his swings, and his sword began to clash with Ferrin’s, the blades ringing through the clearing.
“Attack me, not my sword,” Ferrin said.
That proved tricky, since the sword was always in the way.
“Don’t fret about a counterattack,” Ferrin encouraged. “Take advantage of the situation. Use reckless abandon. I will not strike at you.”
Jason pressed in closer, hacking wildly. The displacer stood his ground, deflecting blows directed at his neck, chest, and legs. Jason broke his rhythm of chopping and suddenly lunged forward, stabbing at Ferrin’s heart. The displacer casually parried the thrust.
“Better,” Ferrin said. “Now show me some real vigor.”
Jason charged, his blade hissing through the air. Instead of intercepting the blow with his sword, the displacer dodged away. Jason stayed after him. Relying on clever footwork and feinting, Ferrin evaded every swing without using his sword. Jason began to tire.
“Are you appreciating the beauty of defensive footwork?” Ferrin asked.
Jason nodded, brushing sweaty strands of hair away from his eyes.
“Had enough?” Ferrin inquired. “This may be the only time I allow you to engage me recklessly.”
Forgetting all caution, ignoring proper footwork, Jason rushed the displacer, getting so close before swinging that he could not imagine the displacer merely dodging the blow. But Ferrin ducked and spun away. Jason kept after him, grunting as he wielded his sword like a baseball bat, swinging relentlessly.
Finally compelled to use his sword again, Ferrin deflected the mighty strokes. “You have strength,” the displacer conceded. “Issue blows like that, and an unprepared opponent might drop his weapon.”
Jason kept coming. Eluding an overzealous swing, the displacer patted Jason on the shoulder. “Of course, swinging too hard can also leave you defenseless.”
After a final energetic onslaught, Jason stepped back, panting. “I’m done.”
“You showed tenacity,” Ferrin said.
“You were impossible to touch.”
“I was entirely on the defensive. I could have held you off all night. Or slain you any number of times. The best openings often occur when an opponent is on the offensive. Go practice footwork.”
Jason felt silly, dancing around alone with his sword, going through all the drills Ferrin had taught him. He took some relief in the fact that Lyrian had no video recorders or Internet connections.
It had been fun attacking Ferrin. Jason wished he could have surprised him by penetrating his defenses, but consoled himself that his inability to do so was evidence that he was learning from the best. The displacer really was a great teacher: patient, direct, specific, and very knowledgeable. Drake and Aram had provided pointers as well, but Ferrin had proved to be the most thorough and methodical instructor and had supervised most of the tutoring.
