SparringOnCrutchesStripped down to shirt and trousers, Giulian Anderon stood poised on four balance points for the moment, awaiting his opponent's next move. Sweat made the thin silk cling to his back, and slicked his palms as they shifted their grip slightly on the handles of his crutches. He and Devon had started their first real sparring session half an hour ago, and he'd already been on the floor three times. He supposed he could use the additional practice at getting back onto his feet. After some discussion, he and Devon had taped thick padding to the crutch shafts. Giulian didn't want to injure Byeroth if he did manage to connect with him, but he didn't want to get into the habit of pulling his blows, either. If this was ever for real... "Come on, Byeroth," he said with determined cheerfulness. "What are you waiting for?" Devon's hair curled in damp wisps around his face. Dark eyes regarded Giulian for a moment, gauging his balance carefully. The heavier fabric of his rough cut clothes seemed to resist sweat, leaving him looking somehow overdressed and hot, without being damp. Instead of a blade, a small wooden dowel, roughly the length of a long knife, tipped loosely in his hand. "You're looking exhausted, Anderon," Devon said bluntly. "I'm thinking we break from the freestanding work and take a look at how you can use props for balance. Take advantage of chairs, tables, things like that when you're fighting. That's optimal for you. Besides, then you can sit a bit." Devon straightened, turning to look for where some chairs and a small table were off to the side. Then he glanced back at Giulian, and for a moment, humor danced in his eyes. "Unless you want me to keep knocking you over. Although I'm sure I'll still manage it a few more times. And I'm figuring at some point you'll send me flying." "Impatient as I am to find out how that feels," replied Giulian, a slight smile answering Devon's amusement, "I suppose the conditions aren't optimum. And I doubt any real opponent is going to let me fall more than once. Very well, let's try some new balance exercises." Life on Aquila had begun to lose a bit of its luster. Treasa had started to grow bored. Previous events had sapped much of her courage and she had been spending her days holed up inside the Bahlmis house. While she was certain this made her brother happy, the time had come for an escape. At the very least it would be good to go searching the grounds and perhaps do a sketch or two. So quietly she slipped out of the house. She did not want to interrupt anyone after all. Under her arm she carried a satchel full of things she thought might come in handy including a sketch book, a journal, and an assortment of pens, pencils, charcoals, and pastels. Once outdoors, she hummed merrily to herself as she meandered through the gardens looking for something of interest. At first she thought it was her imagination. Or a bit of wishful thinking. She stopped, listening intently. No, there really is someone in there, she thought to herself as she eyed the entrance to the salle. Someone who sounded suspiciously like Giulian. It would be rude not to say hello, she decided. Only a single step forward had been managed before she decided to smooth down her nearly perfect hair. Two more steps, and her dress required a quick brushing off. Then she paused at the door to make sure her smile did not look too eager. Opening the door it was clear that the last bit of hesitation was in vain. She positively beamed as she came into the salle. As soon as she saw the two men, she realized that this might have been a bit of a mistake and her face fell into a state of concern. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just passing by and well, I thought that maybe I should stop in and say hello so I did. But you both seem busy so I'll just be going." She was ready to turn and run but the hope that they might stop her kept her rooted in place, if only for the moment. Giulian looked around, surprised, as Treasa entered, and found himself suddenly and acutely conscious of his shirtsleeved, sweaty and disheveled state. But in the next moment he reminded himself that in the interests of the experiment, he ought to try not to be too particular about his appearance. Though it was difficult when Treasa herself looked so ... radiant. "Good afternoon, Lady Treasa," he greeted her. "We were just about to take a break, actually," he went on with a quick, sidelong look at Devon. It was as if the sun broke through the clouds once more as the smile engulfed her being yet again. She stared at Giulian for an overly long moment before catching herself and politely dropping her eyes. Frankly dazzled, Giulian found the thought passing through his mind that there was no one in the world -- no one in his world, anyway -- who smiled quite like Lady Treasa. It almost made one giddy. Devon nodded a hello to Treasa, a polite smile on his features. Then he looked back at Giulian's comment. "Let's get you sitting so you don't fall over before I have a chance to hit," he muttered. He walked over to the table and chairs, and pulled it out with some scraping along the floor so that it wasn't pressed against the wall, and there was room for all three to sit. For all that he was scowling slightly, there was no argument and he waved them both over and motioned to the seats, while he stood behind the one closest to the wall. "We can continue in a while." He looked to the Lady then. "How are you doing? Tonio's been asking after you, but I didn't have much to be able to tell him." "Oh! I honestly thought no one would remember me. I was terribly afraid to seek any of you out. I was quite sure I had made just a horrible impression," she gushed as she took a seat. "So I holed myself up here for a few days. My brother has arrived you know. And he is a bit protective. So I thought it better not to go roaming with him lurking about. But quite frankly I'm beginning to get a bit bored." She giggled just a bit. "But that's how it always is with the two of us. I try to behave and follow his rules and do as he would like but somehow, for whatever reason, I always seem to end up doing things my own way no matter what. And it's okay. Because as much as he likes to argue, it always works out in the end." She seemed quite convinced of that. "I have met your brother," Giulian recalled. "At the time he didn't seem tyrannical, but I think it's most unfair to keep you mewed up in Bahlmis House. Unfair to both you and to the rest of Aquila. Lady Bahlmis doesn't insist on this, does she? As far as Aquila is concerned, she's responsible for you at least as much as your brother is." As Treasa chattered, Devon looked slightly dazed. He leaned back, pushing his chair up onto the back two legs, stretching out. "Yes, Tonio definitely remembered you. Although you seemed somewhat... different then." He blinked, then shook his head, and made a motion as if to say to ignore him and just continue on. Treasa did not ignore things, particularly when it was probably in her best interest to do so. "Well it was a bit of an adventure, wasn't it? Everything happening so fast! And I suppose I was still adjusting to being on the ground. Life is space is different, you know. Definitely not preferable. Still, even though this is better, it's still an adjustment." She gave a dainty shrug. "And to set things straight, they haven't been keeping me prisoner or anything. I just got the feeling that they both would very much appreciate it if I didn't manage to get myself tangled up in some difficulty. And since I don't really know what to avoid just yet, I thought it best to let myself adapt to life here slowly." "What you need," said Giulian, "is someone to show you around. Someone who knows the city well enough to be able to give you the flavor and at the same time keep you out of trouble." Devon remained silent, not wanting to interfere with Giulian's flirting. "Oh that would be lovely," she said wistfully. "But I do not wish to become a burden to anyone. Surely everyone has much better things to do then usher an off-worlder about town." It was clear that she hoped Giulian really did not have anything better to do but was far too enamored with him to believe such a thing could possibly be true. Someone as charming and well off as he must have hundreds of far more pressing matters that required his full attention. Though not hundreds, Giulian indeed did have a number of irons in the fire at the present time. Uppermost in his mind was preparing for the experiment of living in the lower city, but concern for the outcome of the Ducal succession also occupied his thoughts, not least because he bore ties of blood and friendship to both of Atropos' sons. Also, not unconnected to the experiment, there was the proposal Delan had asked him to draw up for a commission on technology. Nonetheless, he felt, Lady Treasa Bahlmis was well worth making time for. "It depends on the off-worlder," he said with a smile. "How are you on interior decoration, Lady Treasa?" It was not entirely a bow drawn at a venture; he knew she had an artist's sensibilities, at least. "Redecorating my apartments in Anderon House has been an ongoing project these past few months," he went on to explain. "If you don't mind starting to familiarize yourself with Aquila by prowling the secondhand shops, I'd be glad to have the benefit of your opinion." She was nodding her consent before he had finished speaking. "Oh! Of course. I can do that. It would be fun. Maybe I can even paint something for you, if you'd like that is. And you wouldn't have to display it. I'd understand." Her expression demured for a moment before she looked back towards him through long lashes. "I'd like that," Giulian answered at once. "I'd like to see your work." "Oh," she said again (only this time with an apologetic annunciation) as she shifted her attention to Devon. "You must think me to be terribly rude. Here I am chatting about my own interests and completely forgetting about yours. I apologize." She paused long enough for a quick breath. "How are you? And your friends? I trust all is well at the university?" Devon had glanced away, staring at something on the wall, thoughts drifting. At Treasa's questions his gaze flickered back and he fought to follow her. "Fine. Also fine. Busy, but well," he shrugged. "That's normal. Only a few more years to go before it's over." He looked from Treasa to Giulian and sighed, the sound almost a cross with a low growl. Then he pushed back and stood up from the small table. "I'm going to go over there, and stretch and do some solo work. I'm out of shape." His push was rough enough to scrape his chair across the floor, and he didn't wait for a response before walking away. Treasa was confused by his behavior. Not one to enjoy confusion, she pushed it from her mind. From here on out, she would remember their chat as short but pleasant. Nothing more. Nothing less. Giulian watched him go and then said apologetically to Treasa, "Once I've rested a little more, I'm going to need to get back to my exercises too. Are you free this evening, perhaps after dinner? You probably ought to see the place before we set out to look for furniture and things. I'm in the south wing of Anderon House." Mindful of the proprieties, he added, "Your brother could bring you over, or Talaren." She did not allow the sigh to escape her lips. It might be mistaken for something other than, I wish I didn't have to live by all these rules. Instead she remained smiling. "I will ask them. I'm sure someone will be willing to serve as an escort of some nature. If not, I'll at least send a note. Or something." The something she had in mind involved showing up unescorted. She did not see the least bit of problem with this. Anyone who knew either of them would know then nothing was happening. Treasa would certainly never set out with any sort of questionable intentions. "That's good, then. I hope you can come," said Giulian, then added with a deprecating smile, "I'm rather absurdly proud of what I've done with the place so far, and I'm afraid I've bored all my friends silly with it." "I don't think you could ever bore me," Treasa replied sounding far more honest then those words should allow. "If I can not make it tonight, then soon. I promise." She gently touched his hand and met his eyes. "Soon," Giulian echoed, almost despite himself. His hand turned under hers and clasped it briefly. For a moment she let the tension grow between them before practically jumping to her feet. "I should really be going now though. You're busy. And I don't want to interrupt further. I'll send a note with my plans. Or something." She backed towards the door. Giulian, with the help of the table, came to his feet also in an automatic gesture of courtesy. "Have a good day," she said finally before turning to leave. "See you later," Giulian replied with a smile. Then, as she left, he turned to Devon. "I think I'm ready to tackle those exercises now." Devon looked over at him, slowing the stretching movements he was performing. "You didn't need to make her leave," he said. "I thought you'd want the time with her without me staring at you." He came back over to the table. "It's all right," Giulian assured him. "We made a date for later." He made the admission almost offhandedly, but the delight of it sparkled in his expressive eyes. Devon shot him a quick grin, and then motioned him back from the table. He waited until Giulian was clear, then started dragging the table out onto the salle floor. "It's obvious you're both interested," he said, his back to Giulian still as he arranged the table. "She seems nice. I think she talks more than just about any girl I know." Devon turned and came back over to pull two chairs over to the table, and indicated that Giulian should join him, and sit, now that the table was away from the wall. Giulian grinned back, and while following Devon's unspoken directions, commented, "She's enthusiastic. About everything, it seems." Devon flushed, abruptly and intensely. He busied himself for a moment with flipping one chair around, and settling himself on it so he faced Giulian, but leaned on the high back of the chair with his elbows. "Ah. Um... well, I'm glad she stopped by and you got to see her," he finally managed to say. "Any chance she'll get involved in the experiment?" Giulian bit his lip. "I suspect she has enough to do with adapting to life on Aquila without piling that on top of it. It's going to be difficult for the rest of us to blend in, and we've at least lived here all our lives. Besides..." He paused. He'd been thinking that he didn't want to put Treasa in danger, which was on the face of it a bit absurd to say of a girl who'd made her way across the galaxy on her own to get here. But then there was that conversation he'd had with Jack, Talaren, and Salla Lasse the night Treasa arrived. What if the suspicious characters Salla had fended off from Treasa then, had tracked her here? Changing direction, he turned a hand palm up and said, "Treasa hasn't got a dog in this fight, yet, not really. Those things we need to learn, she may already know." "Might be interesting to have her talk to everyone, then," Devon suggested. "She doesn't look like she knows the part about how rough it is in the city, but just about what it's like offworld. Where things are different for women." Giulian nodded thoughtfully. "Should I ask her?" Devon shrugged. "If it's part of the experiment, that's really Jo's call. But there's nothing says it has to be. It could just be... dinner?" With a wave of his hand, he tabled the conversation for later. He leaned forward, tipping the chair up on two legs, and suddenly was all business again. "Okay, so now we're going to do some things which are just plain old barfighting. This is stuff I learned just to keep myself from getting knocked flat because the more bruises I came home with, the more my Dad got mad. This is all about balance and using what's around. And in some ways you're lucky, because you've got two weapons no one's going to think of. Me, I just use the chairs." With that, Devon abruptly let the two legs fall to the floor, rocking the chair further back onto them until he slid off the open seat, using his hands to pull the high back with him and then swing it out and free. "I don't expect you to do that," he said, "considering I've not got anything else to balance on. But you might be surprised what you can do by having other things do your moving for you. Although I expect your backside to get more bruised." Giulian, who had been watching attentively, gave a slight grin. "Is that why you always sit that way?" he asked Devon. Devon looked a little surprised at the question. He put the chair back in position (still backwards) and sat down. "Um, not really," he admitted. "I just like leaning on the back. But it's why I learned to do that. Before Gyles'd take me out with him, he used to take me out back where we used a part of the barn like a salle. And he'd needle me, trying to get my temper up, which isn't all that tough, and make me overreact, so he'd be sure I could handle myself. Both talking and fighting. He never did manage to beat the temper out of me, but he did beat self-defense into me." Giulian nodded. "You work with what you have," he commented. "But yes, that's why I like my rocker at home. It gives me that little bit more momentum getting up. I doubt there are very many rocking chairs in bars, though." "That's why I tip it. You'd need to use a crutch to get the balance at first, but then you'd have momentum when you go forward again and could use it," Devon explained. "Then remember, even without a crutch, you've got the table and chair. And hips and seating." He stood and swung the chair around normally, and sat briefly. Then he rocked the chair onto its back legs. In a fluid motion, he rocked it forward, placing both hands on the table. The small table took most of his weight as he shifted it onto one hand and hip, bracing against the table for balance as he swept one arm out as if he held something. "Always use what you've got around you, and remember that walls, tables, chairs, everything can be a crutch when you've not got one to hand, or when you want to use it for something else. The biggest trick is finding your balance." "Like this?" Giulian deliberately knocked his crutches on to the floor, out of reach, then leaned forward against the table to heave himself to his feet. "My difficulty at this point," he commented, as he swung around on his good leg to lean the opposite hip against the table for balance, "is that I'm pretty well pinned. I can use the table to stay upright, but I can't move away from it without ending up on the floor." "Don't think of it as pinned. Think of it as defensible. Stable. No one can get near you, and the next thing we need to work on is cover, although in your case, falling on the floor and getting under a table isn't a bad idea, either," Devon mused. "At least I'm getting good at rolling," Giulian said wryly. Both men were sitting on the floor. Devon leaned back on his hands, looking over at Giulian. "I think we should be done. You need to get some rest before we do this again, and if you've got a good warm bath, you should do that too." Finger-combing his sweat-soaked hair away from his face, Giulian nodded and grimaced. "I'll surely do that." Then a slight smile came to his lips as he remembered, "Especially since I may have a guest this evening." Devon grinned. "You'll want to be in your best shape, and since I've just knocked the stuffing out of you, that might take you some time." He pushed himself to his feet, then offered both hands to Giulian. "C'mon. Want a shoulder out of here? Sorry, didn't mean to get you bruised up so badly." "All in a good cause," said Giulian, taking Devon's outstretched hands and allowing the other man to help him to his feet. "If you can just hand me my satchel and my crutches, I think I can manage the rest myself. The stable block's not too far from here. Can I drop you anywhere?" Devon shook his head. "No thanks. I'm just going to head back to my flat and get some studying done. I'm starting to get behind, and I can't afford to let that slip." Giulian nodded. "I know what you mean." He started for the door, moving a bit more slowly than usual. "When you have a lot of things on your plate, you have to start sorting out your priorities." Devon's expression tightened. "And they don't always sort so easily." "No, they don't," Giulian agreed wryly. Though in some ways priorities are nothing compared to loyalties, he thought to himself. Devon shot Giulian a look. "What do you have to sort out?" the younger man asked. "I'd think you're pretty well set. You'll follow in your father's steps. You're a noble, so isn't just about everything, except who you'll marry, done and settled by the time you're born?" His mouth snapped shut as he finished speaking, and a faint flush colored his cheeks, but he didn't apologize for his words. Giulian flicked an eyebrow at him, though he didn't look offended. "Delan Anderon's steps would be a tortuous and difficult path to follow, wouldn't you say? God send that mine will be easier -- but I have to prepare for the possibility that it won't. That's partly what this is in aid of." He jerked his chin toward the salle behind them. "Yet who's to say, in the event, what will be useful and what won't? It's like that parlor game about which ten books you'd take to a desert island." Devon looked confused. "I wouldn't bring books with me just about anywhere." He shook his head, then slid back to the conversation. "You're right, though, that nothing's going to prepare a person for what's in the future. Everything could change at any time. But I'd just think at least you know where you're going, because you've got your House and your place in it. It's not like going back to the farms and eking out an existence and trying to keep people from dying of disease or hunger. You'll have money and food and a roof over your head. And..." he stopped, momentarily thoughtful. "Well, I suppose you will have people telling you what to do, won't you? That seems to happen to all of us, when we listen to our parents, cit or noble." Giulian nodded. "Parents, for a start. And the Duke ... whoever he turns out to be. But I also have to prepare for being one who will tell other people what to do. And make that work to everyone's benefit. It's still trying to keep people from dying of hunger or disease -- or violence, if it comes to that -- only on a wider scale." "Not all that wide," Devon said. "Except for the technology, what you do won't affect the people where I come from. They'll still be fighting their own battles, and class is still class. That's what the experiment's all about, really. Not just seeing how the other half lives, but that it is the other half. That when it comes down to it, things are really separate, and what you do affects your people, and what I do, well, it affects mine. And Jo hers." He shrugged and since he wasn't needed for help with Giulian walking, he shoved his hands down deep into his pockets. "It's all well and good to think about making a difference, but are we really going to make a difference everywhere? Or is that wide scale still pretty narrow?" "We can try," said Giulian. "And part of that is, as you said, learning the scope of the problem." He digested what Devon had said for a few moments, then asked, "Dev, how much would you say the abolition of slavery on Aquila affected the people where you come from? Though I don't know, maybe you can't tell me. I'm really too young to remember the way it was before, and I'm a few years older than you are. But you could have heard your elders talking about it." Devon shrugged. "I don't remember it before, and really, from what Dad says, where we are never held much with slavery to begin with. I don't think it changed all that much. I'd guess it impacted people who depended on it. Which means, if you're going to change things, you have to make sure people don't depend on what you're taking away. And don't depend on what you're giving them entirely, either, because it could get taken away. Strength in knowing what works, and what's right. Which might be technology and might be people and might be a little of everything." Giulian nodded thoughtfully, then said, "In the end it comes down to people, doesn't it? Because technology's just tools. Sword or plowshare, it doesn't do anything without somebody's hand on it." Devon nodded. "In the end, you're right. And tools are just tools, and can be good or bad depending on who's doing the using of them. None of it's easy." They had reached the stable block by now. Danton, Giulian's groom, had made a good guess at when his master would be finished and was just bringing round Giulian's curricle-and-pair. Devon watched as the groom came around. "Go get yourself that hot bath, and have a good evening." He grinned suddenly. "You too, Dev," Giulian answered, returning the grin and in that moment looking much younger. As the groom held the chestnuts' heads, he tossed crutches and satchel into the curricle, then climbed in using the special handgrips built onto the carriage. He moved more slowly and carefully than usual -- Devon was right, the bruises were telling -- but it was easy to see where the upper body strength came from that Devon had been teaching him to exploit. After lowering himself rather gingerly into his seat, he gathered up the reins. Danton mounted up behind, and after a glance over his shoulder to make sure the groom was in place, Giulian gave the horses the signal to move. He gave Devon a cheery wave as the curricle headed down the drive. |
