"Games and Practice"

A Story of Niccolo Falzini

As Niccolo and Sebastien crossed blade in their first practice session Sebastien’s question came back to Niccolo’s mind: “Why do you pace the quarter deck?” Niccolo’s answer had been the short, half-truth. He disliked being confined. It was true.

Parry. 

Thrust.

“Turn your hand just so Sebastien, you leave yourself open.”

Sebastien turned his hand and Niccolo saw it was not enough so on the next pass Niccolo slapped the Captain’s hand with the flat of the blade. The Captain sucked in breath as the blade tumbled from his hand to the deck. “Turn it more,” he said simply in Montaigne that he was sure sounded as dry and dispassionate as the book he’d learned it from, still it was closer to his mother tounge and he could only twist his tongue around Avalon for so long it had no poetry. As Niccolo waited for the Captain to retrieve his blade he saw a couple of the sailors laugh to themselves; he read the words from their lips:

“Guess Nick’s a better hand with a blade than ole’ Harpoon,” one said.

The other nodded. “Were there any doubt? He was last of ten men against twenty, Nick you call him, Old Nick says I. Man’s half devil with a blade in his hand.” 

Niccolo chided himself for forgetting that here any thing he did to the Captain was seen by half the crew and while he’d had his hand slapped many times to learn a to handle the blade of his father. He had been a boy and one taught in private. Here Sebastien was the Captain, Theus’ right hand, and his dignity must be preserved he noted that as they began their second pass. He noticed the hand still wasn’t right but he corrected it in a more civil manner.

As he did his mind wandered back to his previous line of thought. Why he paced? It was simple really, there was so much he had to consider, plots to foil and fortunes to save. Who wouldn’t pace? 

He smiled inwardly thinking of them all. First there were the spies. The obvious ones were Doctor Santiago, Carlo, Antonio and now the tailor. They didn’t bother him so much, he knew what they were doing and so was able to keep an eye on them. The Doctor was the most benign of them he was certain. He was likely a spy for the Castillian crown and who better to sail with than fugitives from the same to prevent himself from being suspected. It was cunning and it only added to the respect Niccolo felt for the man through his obvious self-possesion, decorum and methodical nature. He was a good man, and of the men on the ship besides Dimitri the closest friend he had. Carlo and Antonio were obviously in the employ of Ernesto Benziano. Though he was sure they were not hostile, simply men earning an extra bit of coin on the side telling the merchant who Dimitri met with, and really they were meant to spy on just anyone. After all who really believes a man like Benziano would be scared off by the Vendel in hiring more swordsmen?

“Good, good, your hand is just so. Now try to swing from your elbow, yes, yes, shoulders feel stronger but they are like a galleon, they pack a great deal of cannon but are slower than molasses in Ussura yes? Now from your elbow you are like a Sloop-of-War you are balanced between fast and powerful, and if you have the need from your wrist you are like a schooner, light but fast.”

Niccolo performed another couple of passes before his thoughts returned to the spies. Luigi the tailor was still a mystery most likely he was a fact checker, a man added to Ernesto’s stable to check that what Antonio and Marco told him was true; a dangerous position to be in.

That was why on his first night aboard, Niccolo had turned him, and now he reported on Ernesto’s instructions in order to secure protection from Niccolo. At present they were to watch and report but if they ever changed Niccolo would be quick to learn. He did not trust Luigi of course, because in his position, Ernesto was the safer bet. Fortunately Niccolo’s network did not end with the tailor. He’d put a serving girl in Ernesto’s house, who reported to him through the men who did the cannon jobs. She would be replaced within a few months but the cannon men knew how to place more servants and he was confident that they would 

At present Ernesto was entertaining the Ussuran ambassador quite often, likely to woo him into further deals with the Bernoulli family and would quite likely try to cut Dimitri out of the deal as soon as things were cemented in Ussura. He suspected that was going to be difficult, the Ussuran struck him as a man who hated treachery and would never betray a friend unless he thought the man had done some wrong against him.  Which meant Ernesto would likely try to fabricate something, or use his daughter’s Sorte powers to snap the bond between the Ussuran Ambassador and Dimitri. He could do nothing about the second possibility right now it was why he’d sent for his sister, but the second he was ready to counter.

Ernesto was working on the side for the Villanova family, a piece of information that had cost him dearly to learn but was well worth the cost. He now had leverage over Ernesto, because as pious as the Bernoulli were, they were still Vodacce. And such a betrayal once revealed would be a death sentence.

He nodded approvingly as Sebastien performed the parry and thrust combination he’d been trying to teach him. “Bella, bella, now do it again just like that.”

Sebastien’s second attempt fell short of the first. Niccolo smiled knowingly. That was the way of this thing. It was a castle built with little grains of success.

“Not quite so good,” he said and demonstrated a couple of times as he returned to his thoughts.

What really troubled him were the spies he didn’t know about. Certainly there were some amoung the crew. The Vendel would almost certainly try to place an agent aboard soon. They’d been to three ports since the raid and sailors were rarely known for their discretion. By now the League would have a description of the ship, and an idea of who was aboard her and it was going to be his job to keep them guessing as to what the ship’s purpose was and keep them a step behind them. So he’d taken care to set up his own defenses. Sancho was one. He’d paid the boy half a share to keep an ear open and report what he heard to him. Also he’d appeared at The Pot and Kettle, with the boy to impress a young girl who found swordsmen dashing and Sancho knowing one increased his stock incredibly with her. It was enough to make one laugh.

“No, no, it wasn’t that bad I was just thinking of something else. Yes, yes try again.”

His others were Gaston de La Bouche, one of the Montaigne sailors. He’d settled an ‘account’ for the man in Canguine, nothing fatal, just to the first wound. Gaston had been in the wrong, but he barely knew how to hold a sword and the man Niccolo had fought for him was an apprentice of that pirate school. So Gaston was grateful for a champion, and Niccolo made it clear that he was not going to be one for free. Gaston now reported everything he heard and saw to him.

Of course Antonio and Carlo would report any other spies to him too. It kept up their illusion and thinned the competition still he would be a fool to trust them only. So that was why he paced, he had to think and keep it all straight in his head because only a fool wrote thoughts like these down. Then of course there were the other concerns, dealing with Princess Annabelle’s other suitors when they inevitably came to deal with Dimitri, dealing with threats to the silk trade, and of course his own family problems, like just what had Natalia learned from Artemisa, and how likely was anyone going to marry her now that she was known to be associating with a retired courtesan.

He shook his head. Gave Sebastien some instructions and continued to think.

Then there was his own marriage to consider. He had some designs to consider, but all of them needed to be less a beggar knight and more a lord. Half of what Dimitri earned was good, but Dimitri was constantly re-investing, a solid strategy but one that often left them bankrupt except for their property. No things would have to change before he thought seriously of marriage.

As to who, he’d always harboured a secret passion for Portia Bessano, Dimitri’s cousin, but she was far too wealthy to be his. Gianni needed her to marry up not down, even with Delaga blood in his veins he was not a suitable match. It pained him truly, and from time to time he composed sad songs of love lost to her memory but it was not to be and that was that. He thought perhaps Sophia Reyez might make a decent match. She was spirited, wealthy, not too highly born, a swordswoman, totally unsuitable to a Vodacce man of any station, but she held a certain charm to him. She was also a woman of ‘experience’ that much was plain. She and her late fiancé were obviously closer than what decorum permitted before his death. Niccolo didn’t mind. The idea of deflowering a woman on his wedding night seemed false to even him. He had certainly not saved himself for the marriage bed, and teaching the woman the act of love would be awkward, how does a man say such things to his wife? Perhaps men do not and that is why they bed courtesans after their wedding day.

"Santa Sophia!" he shouted as in a pass Sebastien's sword struck Niccolo's hand. Sending the sword clattering to the deck he quickly dove picked it up and was on his feet in a flash, the sword gripped in his left hand. All of it had been reflex. He smiled at his own foolishness, for letting his thoughts overwhelm his instincts.

He saw those same sailors smiling. "Guess ole' Harpoon's got a few tricks in his sleeve that Old Nick ain't learned yet."

Niccolo smiled and turned away.

"Very nice," he said. "Now you see why it is important to pay more attention, let us continue."

Niccolo stood in a left handed stance. Well he would have to think of these things some other time, but at least, he thought, this was better than pacing.

"En garde. Now let us really practice," Niccolo said flourishing the blade his thoughts solely on the task at hand. His worries a storm cloud in the back of his thoughts waiting for a time to come again, but at least, he thought, this was better than pacing. And they began again.