The Challenger


The day Master Kagano left, after they returned from their impromptu
flight, the Lady took him back for more lessons in magic, and this
continued each day. He found that with his new sight, he could actually
see, as well as feel, the threads that made up the magic, and he quickly
mastered all the magical attacks she had shown him. 

A week and a half after Master Kagano left, the Lady came to him, as he
was doing his katas in a garden, enjoying the light of the morning sun,
and told him that a challenger had come. Soon, she had taken him to the
throne room. He had been there before, and found it a dreary place. 

A huge many pillared hall of cut granite and smooth marble, it was
magnificent but dead. The Lady dealt with all disputes, and so he never
needed to sit in judgment, or listen to long boring speeches. The
throne room was therefore an empty place, and he disliked it. But he sat
there now, ensconced on the throne. 

He felt silly sitting on it. He knew he looked the part of a Lord, as he
sat there in his Dragon Armor, his boyish face mostly concealed by the
silvery helm. But the throne was built to a far larger scale, and he
felt like a little boy in it, his feet not even close to reaching the
floor. As he sat, the Lady sat by his side, in a slightly smaller chair,
and it made the difference seem even greater. But he was the Lord, and
must needs sit in the Lord's chair. 

Side doors opened, and his personal guard trooped in. He was quite
thankful that the Lady had managed to convince them that he did not
really need a bodyguard with him at all times. It would have been quite
inconvenient. You can't really go leaping from garden to wall to tower
when you have to keep your bodyguard with you, unless you carry him, and
that would be embarrassing to all involved.

They formed two long lines on either side of the central aisle. Finally,
the far doors opened, and a bugle sounded, and a voice announced, "The
Lord Kyris." The man who stepped through the doors was massive, heavily
muscled, nearly seven feet tall. He was easily the largest man Ranma had
ever seen. His chest was massive, and his legs were like stout tree
trunks. He was wearing field plate, much as Lord Roga had, and he
clanked and clattered as he stomped his way up to stand before the dais.

"I come to issue a challenge! Lord Fey, I challenge you to a duel for
the lands and rights of Fey, to be decided by the sword!" His voice was
deep and rough, and when he mentioned a sword, Ranma's eyes flicked to
his right side... but nothing hung there. He looked to the left.
Nothing there either. Then he saw the hilt, protruding over the Lord's
right shoulder. 

The Lady spoke, then. "Lord Kyris, it is traditional for the challenger
to name the prize, and the challenged to name the time, place, and
manner of the bout. Why do you seek to flout tradition?"

Kyris paled beneath his armor. Damn it, why did that witch have to
interfere? The boy surely wouldn't have known that. Now he'd end up
facing the Lord's spells, and surely lose, even if the brat was blind.

The Lord Fey spoke, and Kyris was surprised at his words. "It is
alright, Lady. I do not fear this man's sword, six feet long though it
be. It is well-notched with his wins, but it will not avail him."

Kyris cringed inside. Damnit, the boy was blind, how could he see the
blade? Even had the message lied, and the boy could see, he still
couldn't see the sword, strapped to his back as it was. Then he
brightened. The Lady must have coached him on what to say. 

"Shall we retire to the Dojo, then, Lord Kyris?" Lord Fey asked, and
standing, led the way.

Soon, they were facing off inside of an immense dojo within a circle of
Lord Fey's guards. "To death or surrender?" Lord Fey asked, pleasantly.
Lord Kyris just growled, and drew his six foot blade. It was a heavy
sword, one that few men could wield, even two handed. Six foot long in
the blade, with another foot of hilt, the blade was two hands wide at
the base, and still a hand wide at the tip, where it finally came to a
point. Both sides of the blade were sharpened, and as Ranma had already
noted, the blade was notched in several places.

Ranma drew his own blade, and again it became a four foot katana. Lord
Kyris realized, just as he made his first swing, ignoring the 
possibility of defense as he assumed the boy could not see it, that it
had been Lord Fey who had lead them to the dojo. Damnit, he wasn't
blind! 

His eyes were drawn by his mistake to Lord Fey's eyes, visible despite
the helm, and they were unmoving, unnaturally still as Fey's sword swept
up and turned aside Kyris's blade. No, he was blind all right... but
then, how the devil had he turned aside that thrust. Perhaps the noise
of the blade in the air...

Kyris began a slow thrust with his blade, moving slowly so as to avoid
stirring the air audibly, but his blade was instantly slapped aside.
Realizing that he was leaving himself open, Kyris stopped trying to
figure this out, and let his fighting instincts take over. Soon he was
deeply engaged in the slash and parry, and was quite disturbed to find
that the boy could take the strongest blow and turn it aside without
flinching. 

Ranma grinned inwardly, as he discovered the ki training under the Tai
Chi Master had corrected the deficiency he had noted in his fight with
Grael and Lord Roga. Ki now flowed through his arms as he parried,
lending him the needed strength.

At first, Kyris assumed that it was the blade that was somehow, possibly
magically, turning aside or absorbing the force of his blow. But the boy
showed no strain when he blocked another blow with his arm guard.
Indeed, Kyris was perturbed to note, there was a slow grin forming on
the boy's face.

Angered by the boy's casualness, and his interminable failure to find an
opening in Fey's defenses, Kyris stepped up the attack, putting even
more strength into his swings, and attacking furiously. He was quite
disturbed then, when he realized that even as he was attacking harder,
the boy was steadily forcing him back.

The boy finally seemed to be tiring. His parries were coming slower, and
gradually getting weaker. Kyris noticed a sudden opening in the boy's
defenses, but he was so startled to see it that he missed it. But he
watched closer, and the next time an opening appeared, he lunged for it,
only to have the boy slip past it, getting within the range of his
sword, the boy's blade suddenly at his throat. "Game over," the boy 
said, "yield." It had been a feint, a trap, and he had fallen for it.
Kyris dropped his sword.

"I yield," he said, and sighed with relief when the boy stood back from
him. "You were supposed to be blind, damnit," he snarled. The boy slid
his sword in his sheath, and smiling still, picked up Kyris's sword
easily in one hand, handing it back to him. Kyris stared in shock at
this evidence of the boy's strength.

"I am," the boy replied, grinning. "Quite blind, and will be for a while
yet. I enjoyed the match. Feel free to come again." He turned his back
and sauntered off, whistling, followed by the Lady, and the guards,
leaving Kyris standing in the dojo, alone. He had been beaten handily by
a blind boy. It was unbelievable, just unbelievable. He had tried to
take everything the boy had, and he said he enjoyed it, and come again? 

Kyris shuddered, as a wave of fear swept over him. It had been the boy's
choice to say death or surrender. He could have said death alone, and
taken Kyris' life. Kyris decided that he owed a life-debt to the boy. He
would begin to repay it by asking his King to follow the Court of
Farallon's example, and sue for peace with the boy. He returned to his
home, musing over how he would repay his debt. 

Ranma meanwhile felt a surge of relief as he moved beyond the Lord
Kyris's sight. Having to constantly use his ki to observe the massive
man's attacks while at the same time shoring up his own strength deficit
had cost him dearly. He had been forced to use a feint, drawing the Lord
Kyris into a trap. It galled him, though it was a tactic his father
would have applauded. 

Then again, his father had always told him to fight all out, all the
time. Ranma had forced himself, against his own objections, to disregard
that advice during his first fight with a naked blade. Defending against
Grael's attacks, he had realized that fighting all-out with a sword
meant fighting to kill, and he had been filled with revulsion at the
thought. He was a martial artist, not some killer, even if he was
forced to fight with a sword. 

So he fought with caution, holding his true power in reserve, seeking a
way to end the fight. He had continued this against Lord Roga for the
same reasons, and come to a startling realization. Had he gone all out
against the Lord Roga, he would never have had the opportunity to fight
the Lord's double-bladed style, and he would have come away with less
improvement in his own skill. Pondering that had led him to the
decision that matching his apparent skill level to his opponents was the
best way to get them to demonstrate new techniques, and to improve his
skills. 

Sure, he could simply have used the Juushin Jisei Ryuu, perhaps in the
form of an invisible punch, or merely using it to immobilize his
opponent, or even employed the Neko-ken, now that he could do so
without going insane... but what would he have learned? After all, he
did not fight to beat his opponents, but to become the best. Not that
being the best didn't mean winning... but if he didn't learn from each
fight, then he would eventually be beaten by someone more willing to
learn than himself. 

Nonetheless, the ki techniques he'd had to use to match the Lord Kyris
had been draining, and he had been forced to resort to trickery. While
it was an acceptable way to win, being merely a minor variation of the
traditional feints that are part of nearly every sword style, it irked
him. It wasn't so much that it was something of which his father would
approve, but rather the simple fact that he had been forced to cut the
fight short that irritated him. 

That was one reason he had invited the Lord Kyris to return. By the time
the Lord Kyris chose to take him up on his offer, assuming he did so,
Ranma intended to be ready to go the whole distance, to draw out Lord
Kyris's full skill, and learn all he could from him. Ranma would not
make the mistake of assuming that merely because an opponent was
defeatable, he knew nothing worth learning. 

---

"So the brat's blind, is he? Perfect... I'll have to think... back an
open challenger, or use an assassin? Hmm..." Krall pondered, delighted
at the latest news from the land of Fey.

"Oh," replied Friss, "and what would you think of the Lord Kyris as a
suitable challenger, hmm?"

Krall shot Friss a glance. Very unusual it was, for Friss to offer
suggestions as to how Krall should run his affairs, enough so for Krall
to take particular notice. He considered the question. "Well... common
talk is that Kyris is one of the few who could probably take Lord Roga,
though they've yet to meet in competition. He wields a six foot blade,
I'm told, not unusual in itself, but it is double-edged and massive.
He's an immensely strong fellow, and surprisingly quick for his size.
He's also very proud of his successes, and he's exhibited jealousy of
other warriors with reputations before, so he's manipulable. An
interesting idea, Friss, that might be a good answer. Why do you suggest
him?"

"Because he's already done it, Krall, Kyris went and challenged the
blind boy."

Krall sat up straight, staring at the spymaster. "Truly? And what
happened?"

"The boy toyed with him, then forced him to yield, just as with Roga.
And just as with Roga, Kyris is now a supporter of the boy, and he's
turned several of his fellow lords into fans. We may well lose the whole
kingdom to a peace with Fey."

"Damnit! That doesn't make sense. I would have judged Kyris the sort to
take a beating, and shut his mouth about it. How did he manage to
swallow his pride?"

"He's been telling the story since he returned, to any who'll listen. He
challenged the boy as he sat on the Lord Fey's throne, and the boy
commented on the length and notches on his sword, though it was on his
back and sheathed. He assumed the Lady had coached him. The boy agreed
to swords, even though the Lady prevented Kyris from stipulating it when
he tried. They fought in the dojo, and Kyris says that at the end of it,
as with Lord Roga, the boy easily lifted the sword and returned it to
him. That's not a light sword, as you know. Further, the boy admitted to
being blind, and said he would be for a while yet. Then, apparently, he
told Kyris that he enjoyed it, and to come back anytime."

"Unbelievable. Well, obviously we can't take him out directly. Take some
time, pick the best man, and send in an assassin. Its time to deal with
this," growled Krall. 

He was privately worried about the news. The boy was moving too quickly
to consolidate his relationship with his neighbors, and if he got there
first, it would hamper Krall's efforts to gain political leverage. Damn
that boy! If he even was a boy. From the sound of things, he was far
stronger than anyone that age and size had a right to be. Krall idly
wondered if it might be another therianthrope, another were-creature.