General Marcum laughed. “Frisha, my dear, do not fret. If you have achieved that, then you are doing well. These things take many years to master.” Looking back to Rezkin he said, “I see that you have taken your promise of protection to the next level, Rezkin. From the story I heard last night, I can see that you have done well to protect them, but teaching them to protect themselves and making sure they have decent weapons with which to do so is most commendable.”

Rezkin bowed at the unexpected compliment and said, “It is the best way to ensure their safety. I cannot be with both of them at all times. Lieutenant Jimson has improved, as well, and I expect he will make a fine showing in his tier at tournament.”

“Is that so? Perhaps there is a promotion in his future, then,” the general said. Glancing out of the kitchen door and noting the lightening of the sky, General Marcum said, “It is time for me to be gone. I have duties to which I must attend. Have a pleasant day.”

General Marcum strode down the wide lane deep in contemplation. That boy could not possibly be a master healer of the mundane. At his age, he would have had to begin his apprenticeship at the age of four or five. It was absurd. He did not believe Rezkin for a moment, but at the same time, he was wary of thinking him a liar. It was a contradiction he could not resolve. Perhaps the young man had been duped. Some charlatan could have taken him under his wing for a couple of years, for a price of course, taught him a few herbs and techniques and proclaimed Rezkin a master. Marcum might have been able to convince himself of that if Rezkin did not appear to be so intelligent.

The young man was cultured, educated, well mannered, and conducted himself with both courtly grace and the elegance of a skilled warrior. Marcum had not yet seen the young man in action, but the way he moved indicated he was either a dancer or practiced fighter. Rezkin did not look like a dancer. He was a mystery the general could not solve. Every conclusion seemed to point in a different direction. The only confluence he could find was one he did not wish to consider.

Tam and Frisha worked their way through their exercises. Tam’s motions grew more fluid as he became comfortable with the weight of the sword and motions of the forms. Rezkin always knew exactly when Tam had not performed correctly to the slightest nuance and was sure to correct him. In addition to memorizing the movements of the sword forms, Tam was learning to block. At first, Tam was hit nearly every time, but now he felt a growing sense of pride every time he managed to block a strike.