The Mug & the Man [Repost]

Estel

Posted: Sat Apr 28, 2007

 

Thud.

 

The man across the room smirked.  Despite his nervous, twitchy nature, the clerk had a derisive attitude towards his employer; Carnhain.  Since both the Captain General and Banner Captain and Captain of the Thunder Battalion had been killed in the battle for Illian, leadership of the cavalry had fallen to Carnhain.  The first thing the young man had noticed in his abrupt promotion from Lieutenant to Captain General had been the overwhelming increase of paperwork and for a man who hadn’t been able to read and write more than his name until only two years ago, he was simply incapable of reading through that much paperwork in a reasonable amount of time- hence the clerk.

 

As for the thudding noise, that was the familiar sound of Carnhain’s head hitting the desk.  Honestly, could the new privates be any more stupid!  Which idiot had come up with the idea of loosing an entire herd of foals and then chasing them through the city?  Not that it really mattered which one started it, Carnhain’s arm throbbed almost pleasantly from hitting them all with the flat of his blade before sending them to first clean the streets of horse dung and then dig latrines for the next full twenty-four hours.

 

Now he had to document their punishments and give a detailed description of their “crime” and the method to his “justice”.  Damn all this formality, why couldn’t he just hit them and have it over with?

 

The knock at the door was a blessed relief from the paperwork.

 

“Enter.”

 

Carnhain did not recognize the man who walked in but it was hardly possible for him to know every man in his corps consisting of some five thousand fighting men alone and that was discounting numerous servants, pages, grooms, blacksmiths, fletchers and armourers, all of whom he dealt with on a daily basis.  However, this man did not have the look of a civilian.  There was the familiar hardness in his face and actions that bespoke a soldier- and a good one at that.  The man was one handed and heavily scarred but bloodshot eyes told of alcoholism which set a hard frown on the Tinker soldier’s face.  He knew what alcoholism could do to a man and had watched his best friend nearly destroy himself by drowning himself in the dregs of a mug.

 

 

The Don

Posted: Sun Apr 29, 2007

 

At long last Jaem found the bloody office. It wasn't really that it was hard to find, everyone knew the Cavalry offices. It was all the flaming people and all the bloody construction. Burn him if he had to find one more flaming detour.

 

He hoped the meeting would go smoothly and quickly, he really needed a drink now, but deep in his heart, he knew it wouldn't. Hi, I'm Jaem. You've never met me before, but I'm your new bloody second in command. If someone came to him with such an outrageous claim when he was the Captain General, he would probably have kicked the crazy fool. No, he wouldn't. The old Jaem would have made a joke and been diplomatic and bought the fool a mug of ale. It was the new Jaem's way to kick someone. Oh well.

 

Once again, he knocked once loudly at the door. This was already getting real flaming old.

 

"Enter."

 

Jaem walked in and seen a young man behind a stack of papers. He was a few years younger than he, maybe about as old as Jaem himslef was when he held the position. He noticed himself start to smile again. He bloody hated paperwork, most young men did. "You must be General Stromblade. My name's Jaem Caran, I'm your new blo... ah, your new second in command." The look on his face was just as expected... unbelieving. "No joke General. I just left the Commander's office. Charming young man. I fought with him apparently against the Seanchan. Of course, I was the Head Horseman back then. Seems I made an impression, so he put me back to being a Banner Captain."

 

He looked at the man at the desk. The name must have sparked recognition, at least. He was pretty sure he knew at least the names of the men who had held his position before him. How many had that been? The life of a soldier was rarely long. Jaem was the second, having learned under Schaduw, who led the Cavalry in their first battle at Tarwin's Gap. Was this young fellow enlisted when he left? Probably not. Most men knew the face of their General, even if the recognition only went one way.

 

 

Estel

Posted: Sat May 05, 2007

 

Carnhain’s eyebrows rose when the man named himself Jaem Caran.  He had of course heard stories depicting the accomplishments of his predecessors, but Jaem Caran was dead!  And besides, surely the great Jaem Caran couldn’t be this ragged-looking alcoholic before him.  Was Mehrin mad?  There was no way in the Light this man could be his new Banner Captain!

 

“Really…” Carnhain’s tone was dry as the weather outside.  “Last I heard, Jaem Caran was dead.  In fact, last I heard, Jaem Caran was one of the best swordsmen in the world and disputably the world’s best cavalier.  I find it hard to believe he accomplished those titles by keeping himself drunk day and night.”

 

The young man stood up from his desk, eyeing the one-handed drunk in the arrogant, snobbish way that had become far-too normal for him.  “I may be a simpleton but I don’t appreciate being made a fool of.  However, I am simply an officer and I must obey order from above even if I feel the orders ludicrous.”  Here he rounded on “Jaem”, emphasising each word.  “Listen to me.  I will not put up with an alcoholic as my second-in-command!”  His point made, Carnhain spun on his heel and returned to his desk for “Jaem’s” answer.

 

 

The Don

Posted: Sat May 05, 2007

 

"Really? I was all that?" Jaem chuckled a bit. "Well you can say that the old Jaem Caran died that day." Jaem looked at the man that would be his leader. "I was attacked by an assassin... a Darkfriend. He was better than me, I think, but I had the luck of the Band with me," He looked at his arm "or maybe he had the luck of the Dark One, I think I was left alive to suffer. At any rate, I killed him. If they reported seeing my body, I couldn't blame them for thinking me dead. Maybe when I was gone when they returned, they thought Darkfriend scavengers took me away to eat me or something." The look he got back said that was something close to the report.

 

"As to my current condition," he grimaced "I'd like to meet the man that could go through what I have and not have any lasting effect. What I do on my own time is no one's concern. If my duties are affected, then I'll accept whatever disciplinary actions are called for, but they won't be, so there’s no point in even mentioning that." He realized his voice was raised... high. Bloody great first impression, jackass! He tried calming himself. "What I mean to say, General, is that my private life and professional life are two different entities. Believe me, you can do worse than having even a washed up Jaem Caran as your second in command. I was calling charges before most people in this 'Citadel' could shave, and I bloody well won't even be thirty for another half year. I have dozens of battles fresh in my head, and the teachings of the Warders in my body. I may have one hand, but I'm still a Blademaster. I've personally trained thousands of men and women into fighting machines, a good percentage of which I'll wager are still here and are the top notch cavaliers in the Band. If nothing else, I have knowledge to pass on that no one else here has. Now the Commander has assigned me to a position, which I will fill regardless. We can either make this easy, get along, and put together one hell of a corps; or we can argue and not get along and have the entire Band... the entire world suffer. This is bigger than two men, General, this is the premiere corps in the premiere army in all the world."

 

 

Estel

Posted: Sat May 12, 2007

 

Carnhain sighed, letting his head sink to the support of his hands at the man’s answer.  “Problem is, Jaem, that I’ve known men in exactly your position.  I won’t fault a man for drinking to forget his memories, Light knows I do when I need to, but the thing is, it’ll control you.  No matter what you say, if it proceeds it will interfere with your work and I won’t have that.  The Creator knows you could likely lead this corps a hundred times better than I can but truth is, you won’t be half the man you are in the drink as out.  You’re hardly the first alcoholic I’ve known and I’ve known some better than I know myself.”

 

From the set of the man’s jaw, Carnhain knew his words were having no effect except to enrage the man and further set him against his authority.  It wasn’t as if the blonde man had believed his words would have an effect- they certainly hadn’t on Kedyn.  “I know nothing I say will change your mind, but I hope for your sake and the sake of this corps something does eventually.  In the meantime I’ll leave you to deal with “what you do in your own time” and we’ll do as you say and continue to lead this corps to the best of our ability.

 

“Walters!” he said, referring to his clerk.  “Go find Corporal Davenport and have him take Banner Captain Caran’s things to his room in the Red Keep.  I’ll escort him there and show him his office personally after I take care of a few other matters first.”  The clerk sneered but jumped to his orders so that Carnhain would seem unjust if he gave into the temptation to throw his ink bottle at the man.  Damned clerks.

 

Carnhain stood, removing his coat and slinging it over the back of his chair.  “Now let’s see what the “washed-up Jaem Caran” can do.” he said with a smirk.  “Winner of the spar buys the other a round of ale at the tavern?”  The last time he had challenged a Blademaster, Mehrin might as well have been one, it had ended badly for him… well, that was a bit of an understatement- Carnhain had ended up spending a week in the medic’s care waiting for the enormous hole Mehrin had ripped through his middle to heal.  It hadn’t fully yet, and the bandages still covered his stomach but his shirt hid those.

 

 

The Don

Posted: Tue May 15, 2007

 

"What are you doing?" Was this man bloody serious? He just met him, and he was already trying to measure himself up to him. "We have nothing to prove tonight. I'm bloody tired, you look like you could use a bit of sleep yourself." Carnhain said nothing, just walked out of the office. Burn him! Jaem limped after him.

 

"Where are you going, man? You don't want to do this. I may be half a Jaem, but half a Jaem is still a blademaster. Maybe we should hold this off for when there's more light." They entered a clearing where several Cavalrymen were cleaning up after their own sessions. Carnhain unsheathed his sword and began to circle him. Without noticing, Jaem's own cutlass was in his hand. "Blood and ashes, man, if we're going to do this, at least get some practice swords out." The bloody man wouldn't listen to reason.

 

 

Estel

Posted: Thu May 17, 2007

 

Carnhain grinned impertinently.  Despite being in his mid-twenties now, the blonde man had a tendency to play the ten year-old when the situation allowed.  He refused to answer Jaem’s questions until he was stripped to the waist, thought leaving the bandages, and facing the larger man, broadsword against cutlass- live steel.

 

“For one, this little spar right now will prove to me and the rest of the Band that you are a functioning alcoholic, rather than a useless one.  It will also prove that Jaem Caran did not disappear with his hand.”  Carnhain was assuming Caran had lost the hand during his time away as surely the stories would have mentioned the “one-handed” hero.  “And you’re not the only one with something to prove, see this?” he said, pointing to the scar that rose from the top of his bandages and stopped at his neck.  “Under these bandages is another half-healed scar, overlapping the one I already had, both are from duels I ended up fighting with Blademasters.  One happened while I was still a private, the other a few months back as a Lieutenant.  I’ve got to prove to this corps that I’m not stupid enough to instigate a fight with a Blademaster without being able to give back as much as I get.

 

“As to practice swords-” Carnhain smirked “this is the Band, not the bloody White Tower.”  With no more warning than that, the younger man lunged forward with his sword, aiming for Jaem’s chest.

 

 

The Don

Posted: Thu May 17, 2007

 

To call the defence effortless was quite a bit of an overstatement. Extremely fast reflexes brought Jaem's own sword up from the hip to nudge Carnhain's blade from the bottom to where it flew harmlessly off to the side. Jaem stepped back into a defensive stance, with his sword pointing down at the ready. "Whoever said I had something to prove?"

 

The man lunged at him again, this time in a miniature flurry. He was good, he'd give him that much. It was all Jaem could do to move the larger blade out from harm's way. He used his left leg as his pivot leg, using the injured right only for balance and aim. It was a very efficient way of fighting, no wasted energy, no powerful swings and blocks. It was the perfect style for him, having only the strength of one arm and little energy to expend. Still, it had been quite a few years since he had fought anyone with any great amount of skill. Defence and counter was his best bet.

 

 

Estel

Posted: Sun May 20, 2007

 

Despite Carnhain’s laugh, his answer was serious.  “I did.”

 

Jaem was good.  Very good.  He was quicker than just about any opponent Carnhain had faced- even Mehrin, but Mehrin combined power and speed rather than relying on one alone.  However, Carnhain found himself able to deflect the older man’s attacks almost in mirror to Jaem blocking his own.

 

The other man’s cutlass was much lighter than Carnhain’s broadsword and therefore easier to move through the air quickly.  As such, Carnhain couldn’t rely on his skill with the blade alone but was often dodging attack by sidestepping or else catching them on the hilt and guard of his sword nearly as often as he caught them on the blade.  However, these were far and few between, so for the better part of the spar Carnhain remained on the offensive.

 

The one-handed man wasted no effort with heavy overhand blows or swings, heavily favouring quick thrusts and slashes that would do little damage except to slow the opponent down so the blade would find its mark in a thrust to through the ribs.  This was generally the style of fighting preferred by scouts and archers, rather than cavalry and infantry who favoured power over speed.  Being small, though, and therefore weaker than the greater percentage of other soldiers, Carnhain had favoured speed, using the momentum of his heavy blade to provide power where he needed it.

 

This spar was a practice in footwork.  Thrust and side-step…  Swing and advance...  Parry and retreat… Slash and advance…  Disengage and retreat…  A crowd was beginning to gather to watch the flashing swords and quick-footed dance.

 

Finding that Jaem relied mostly on his sword, Carnhain began throwing combinations at him.  Stab at thigh, spin, use momentum to kick at groin, overhand, left hook to jaw…  The crowd cheered both men on, enthralled by the swordwork.  Never once did Carnhain hear jeering as there were no marks on either man yet for any points to have been lost.

 

 

The Don

Posted: Wed May 23, 2007

 

Jaem could see now the smaller man with a larger blade beginning to tire. Burn him, if he wasn't so out of shape, he wouldn't be so bloody tired himself and could take advantage of it. It may be a little early, but it was time... now!

 

Moving away from defence, Jaem knocked away the last attack from Carnhain and went on the offensive. It was a flurry that was almost too fast for the eye to fully see, though it was considerably less than he was capable of. He came from all angles. A lesser skilled fighter would have been cut to pieces, but despite a few nicks on the arms and one neat slice at the top of the chest, Carnhain held the attack off. A few nicks were nice for points, and might even slow him down eventually, but none landed square (not that he wanted to kill the man), and Jaem used much more energy than he assumed he took from his opponent. Too bloody soon! Burn it!

 

Jaem stepped back into a defensive position to catch his breath. As long as he didn't try that again, his defence could hold off... hopefully.

 

 

Estel

Posted: Fri Jun 01, 2007

 

Carnhain waited out the onslaught much like a group of pikes weathering a cavalry charge- drenched in sweat, dripping blood and grunting in exertion every now and again.  The sweat made his grip precarious and after a particularly quick counterthrust-parry, the blonde man had to retreat before the next slash to avoid injury and readjust his grip.  He earned a neat slash across his bandages anyway.

 

There were a number of close calls like the one above, some earning him various other scratches, some leaving no mark.  By the end of Jaem’s assault, both men were huffing and puffing; utterly exhausted.  However, there are varying degrees of utter exhaustion; lesser utter exhaustion and drop-dead utter exhaustion.  Carnhain was the former, his opponent the latter.

 

Careful not to waste energy and lose his advantage, the younger of the two contained himself to slashes and thrusts, aimed at probing his enemy’s weaker point rather than doing any damage.  Having lost the hand, Jaem would be basically unable to use his left side to deflect attacks should his sword be other wise engaged and now that he was tired he was slower- just the weakness Carnhain needed

 

His mind made up, the blond man made a gamble and threw his extra energy into a single combination.  Slashing from left to right at Jaem’s middle, the broadsword was blocked but darted up to hack at the other man’s right shoulder.  The two swords connected at eyelevel.  Having a much heavier blade, Jaem’s cutlass was unable to bat the sword away and Carnhain locked their blades.

 

He had to move fast before the other could disengage.  Almost as soon as the two blades met, the young man threw a left hook at his opponent’s vulnerable left side.

 

 

Jaem

Posted: Sun Jun 10, 2007

 

Jaem fell to his knees with a thud as Carnhain's fist knocked out what little wind he had left in him. Immediately he felt the cold steel against his neck. "Alright, alright. You bloody beat me." He gasped when he finally caught enough breath. The blade was removed, and replaced by a hand. Jaem took it and was helped to his feet. "I'll bloody pay for that round as long as we flaming go get it now." Blood and ashes was he thirsty. Alcohol was probably not the best thing for fatigue and dehydration... but it was cold and wet.

 

 

Estel

Posted: Sat Jun 16, 2007

 

Carnhain grinned as he helped the obviously exhausted Jaem to his feet.  This wasn’t to say that Carnhain himself wasn’t about to fall over from lack of energy.  His chest rose and fell so dramatically that his entire body seemed to quake with the effort to draw each additional breath.  Most of his blonde hair had fallen out of its tie and was plastered to his face which, minus the salt, he could have drank to ease the rasping in his throat from gasping for air.  The cavalryman was almost surprised to be able to grip Caran’s hand without it slipping from his sweaty fingers.

 

The moment the fight had ended, Carnhain had simply dropped his blade, unable to spare the energy needed to sheathe it.  With one hand gripping Jaem’s in a firm handshake, the other was left free to fan his face in a desperate, yet futile attempt, to cool himself down.  “It seems the legendary Jaem Caran is a little out of practice.”  The comment was made entirely in jest, the young man hoped his elder understood that.  “But no worries, it seems he hasn’t forgotten everything either.”  With a wink, he turned to the quickly dissipating crowd.

 

“I don’t suppose anyone’s got a water canteen have they?”  One was stolen from a stocky infantryman, no more than fifteen.  “I’ll have my clerk return it to you,” Carnhain would love sending that irritating bird-like fellow on a meaningless errand just to annoy him further “and while you’re here, I don’t suppose you’d mind picking up my sword for me would you?  I think I may join it if I attempt to bend over.”  The boy, with a certain amount of eagerness and admiration characteristic of child soldiers’ behaviour around their elder superiors, leaped to the task and soon the broadsword was back in Carnhain’s sweaty hands.

 

He wiped the blade on his pant leg, while there was certainly no grievous injuries sustained, both men were covered in minor scratches and cuts and both were experienced soldiers, neither stupid enough to let the tiniest amount of blood sit on their blades to oxidize.  Taking the canteen from Jaem, he had given it first to the older man as he had seemed to need it more, Carnhain finished off the little water left.  “Off to the tavern?”  Jokingly, he offered his arm to his new Banner Captain as he would to a young lady... or would’ve to a young lady if being alone with a woman for more than a few minutes on anything but a professional level didn’t turn his face the colour of the setting sun.