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Chapter 2 – Training

“You want me to love my opponents to death, Master Aquilius?” Sa'íd's eyes widened. His tufted ears faced one forward, one sideways. “That will be...interesting; I'm not sure it will get 343 victories...”
“I wanted to see you make that face,” rumbled Aquilius. “In battle you should be in a state of harmony and balance – one with all around you, yet driven by tremendous intensity. You cannot succeed if you let emotions rule your actions; however, you will need a reservoir to draw strength from. I do not believe hatred, rage, or greed suit your nature. Neither will stoicism nor just any love suffice. In my home province, we might say Agape, but not Eros. Common speech has no such distinction, and Lynx speech... defies my understanding.”
Sa'íd still looked skeptical, “Love without passion, from a Lynx?”
Aquilius' laughter was deep. “Passionate love if you must, but you can't get distracted in a fight.” He paused, “I know your People have a concept of dedication – to one's people, to one's belief in doing good, even to creation itself – a commitment so strong it is akin to burning, lustful desire in its intensity. Yet its flame may endure one's whole life. Figure out what it is you believe in, what or who you love. Fight for it, and live for it.”

*

Sa'íd picked up the heavy wooden shield and training sword. He sighed, facing Culhwch, taking a ready stance.
Sa'íd had been pleasantly surprised to discover the Hyena to be friendly, jovial, and trustworthy. He was a perceptive tutor and a fierce sparring partner. Sa'íd had never thought of a hyena as likeable, much less reliable. Yet, Culhwch was second only to Aquilius in influence over whether Sa'íd lived or died in the arena.
Aquilius looked on, standing by a cypress in the training yard, as Sa'íd began to dance the blades with Culhwch. A fortnight into training, Sa'íd was not able to get past defenses yet. However, he predicted his opponent's offense quite accurately, reacting to the subtle queues which preceded each assault. He dodged, blocked, and parried unscathed for a few minutes.
Culhwch increased the pace, bit by bit. The longer they continued, the more difficult it was for Sa'íd to keep up. Despite the cool winter air, Sa'íd's heart would not allow him to keep pace for such an extended fight. Panting and shaking, a quarter hour into their sparring, he saw the attack coming, yet he couldn't raise his shield fast enough. Sa'íd winced and let out a short, involuntary yowl, as he felt the sting of Culhwch's wooden sword three times in rapid succession, three stabs. Had the blade not been blunted and padded, Sa'íd would have holes in his heart and lungs.
“Halt!” Aquilius boomed. Sa'íd let the heavy sword and shield drop to the ground and fell to all four paws, panting fast. He drank deeply from the bowl of water Culhwch brought him. He considered dousing himself with the rest. Sa'íd could barely raise a paw to defend himself, and the Hyena looked ready to go another hour. Sa'íd wondered if he ever grew tired in a fight.
Aquilius answered the unspoken question. “Hyenas beat their prey by running it to the point of exhaustion; often they chase it for miles until it simply cannot go on. While you and Culhwch are close to the same size, his heart is nearly twice as big. You will never beat a Hyena in a contest of endurance, any more than you will a Horse. In fact, Culhwch has the edge over any Horse I know.
Sa'íd gave the Hyena a nod and a gentle nudge, before he leaned slightly against him and began to purr, a sign of deep respect, and an admission that Sa'íd himself was the lesser Creature in this matter. He turned to Aquilius and asked, “How am I to overcome another of his kind, if they have such an advantage?” Sa'íd felt Culhwch scratch his ears as the Hyena gave a low rumbling laugh.
Aquilius simply nodded to the Hyena, and it was Culhwch who answered. “You are almost humble when there are no females to impress; I'm starting to like you. Hyenas and Horses are often at war. War yields prisoners and slaves, so there will always be Hyenas in the arena. However, there have been no Lynx for a generation. I will be the only one who knows your weaknesses. Come with me, and I will show you some of your strengths.”
Recovered somewhat, Sa'íd followed the Hyena to the place where Soldiers had their contests of strength. He saw accommodations for carnivorans in addition to those for Horses. They went to a narrow table with a wooden block set in the middle of it... “Place your fore-paw on one side of the block, and I will place mine on the other. When I say go, try to force my paw and the block off the edge... Go!”
Sa'íd found resistance, but in the space of a dozen breaths, he had the opposing paw off the table. The block fell to the ground just after that. Sa'íd grinned as he spoke, “Thanks for going easy on me.”
“I wasn't,” laughed Culhwch, shaking his head and rubbing the paw. “Had I tried any harder, I would have injured myself. On to tug-of-war.”
Sa'íd dragged the Hyena around the yard in tug-of-war, outdistanced him in throwing both a heavy iron ball, and beat him at javelin tossing.
Culwych finished the lesson. “My advantage is that my heart, lungs and core are stronger. Allow me to cover you in wresting, and I will be able to defeat you. I will beat you at endurance, be it a run or a fight. In summer, my advantage will be magnified because of your heavy fur. Let a fight with me last a quarter hour, and I am almost certain to win. My bite is stronger too, but you are allowed to use claws in Pankration.”
“You have longer, stronger arms and legs with a better grip. Your leverage magnifies that advantage. You have faster reflexes and substantially more precision to your aim. When you rise to your potential, you will be me in four out of five contests, one-on-one, in the arena. And I am better than most.”
Sa'íd nodded, “I am deeply in your debt. But why teach me how to defeat your own kind? I could use that knowledge against your homeland one day.”
The Hyena gave a low chuckle, “Equi know how to defeat my people in battle better than I ever will. It does not matter what the two of us do. Besides, Aquilius treats me, a slave, more like an equal than any Hyena does.” He spat on the sand, “There's what I think of returning to my people, crawling and begging on my knees for permission from 'Mother' to so much as piss.”
Culhwch grinned as he continued, “Truth is, if every Equi master was like Aquilius, many hyena males would join forces with the Equi. Fortunately for 'my People's future', Aquilius is the exception. I will remain loyal to him as long as I have breath.”
“Oh.” Sa'íd yawned. “I hope I can do as much for you. So, what now?”
“It looks like you are going to sleep. In the morning, we run. You may never have the heart of a Hyena, but we can condition you to have heart enough.”
Sa'íd nodded. “I can't argue with that.” He yawned again. “Winter this year is cold. I've seen you shivering at night, thin fur and all. You're welcome to sleep against my back. It's warm.” He glanced at the thick, silvery fur – his first full winter growth in five years. It was rarely cold here.
Culhwch was quick to accept, “That would be a welcome change. Our brothers sleep in pairs, but they always push me away at night – can't help their instincts. I do smell like a hyena, after all.” Culhwch's low laugh followed Sa'íd as the Lynx went to his cubicle and fell asleep.

*

A month later, Sa'íd woke up before dawn, smiling as he inhaled the the air of a crisp winter night. He could hear snowflakes falling outside.
It was a few weeks after Winter Solstice. Aquilius slept in officer quarters with heated floors. Gladiators slept in a simple, unheated room with an open doorway. As the unusual winter progressed and grew colder, the other gladiators, two foxes and two zebras, had overcome their fears. All six slept in a single pile of fur and woolen blankets to keep warm. Among Sa'íd's native people, digging a hole in a snowbank constituted a warm bed. He slept on top of the pile, the warmest blanket for his battle brothers. He carefully rolled off the pile so as not to wake them.
He went outside and practiced forms in the snowfall, tongue darting out to catch a snowflake between each change in stance. It did not take long for Culhwch to appear in the doorway. The hyena got cold and woke quickly once Sa'íd left. Sa'íd wore only a simple harness and belt, utilitarian gear for holding tools or weapons. The Hyena had donned at heavy wool tunic and cloak against the cold.
“Ready for our morning run?” Culhwch asked.
“I am. You may want to find some snow shoes,” Sa'íd replied.
The Hyena chuckled, “I'll make do. It's only a few inches.”
Sa'íd gave a challenging 'rowr' and starting running; his huge paws, webbed and fur-covered, sent a spray of snow into Culhwch's face as the Hyena followed with a growl. Sa'íd had quickly tired when they began running together, but Culhwch was a good mentor. Using the Hyena's advice, Sa'íd lengthened his stride, letting long limbs use less effort for the same distance. He could keep up for miles now... without snow.
Today, the Hyena stood no chance, dragging his paws out of the snow only to have them sink to the ground at the every step. Sa'íd's oversized paws gracefully carried him across the surface, running circles around the Hyena, launching a fresh plume of snow toward him at every opportunity. As they returned to the training yard an hour later, Sa'íd remarked, “White: the color of purity. I've never seen you so pure.”
The Hyena merely grunted before saying, “Remind me to avoid fighting a Lynx in snow.” He changed into a new set of woolens before opening a crate of salted aurochs strips. The two ate breakfast together, joined by the Foxes, Ugljo and Hladan. Kondo and Hasani, the Zebras, nudged their way into nearby grain sacks.
The Lynx took his leave. He made his way to the Via Lata and walked to the Guildhall. Today he would work on his weapons.
*
Sa'íd was pleased to see the clouds thinning as they carried their snow further east. He would be able to use the solar forge today. He crossed the plaza and, it being the start of the work day, entered the Guildhall's open door with a dozen other Lynx, all coming to continue their projects. He climbed many flights of stairs, heading to the highest and largest of several domes atop the Guildhall, a solar forge. The forge was a marvel of engineering. Most of the dome comprised a complex array of lenses, mirrors, gears, and bearings.
An artificer, usually an engineer or a master smith, adjusted them for a specific temperature and for the day of the year. Most of the year, it was powered by water. On a day this cold, there was a back up power source, a giant wound up spring. Once set in motion, the dome followed the sun, adjusting mirrors and lenses for its angle and position all day. This kept the forge at exactly the same temperature. It was the sort of device which Dugoslav and Dragoslav would one day design and build themselves.
Sa'íd smiled to himself. The Guild Masters celebrated him now, but not for any of the reasons he had once hoped. They neither honored his arena victories nor praised his craftsmanship. He was 'the Lynx who had found Dugoslav and Dragoslav, the prodigy apprentice engineers, before they were found by a rival guild' – or executed for stealing. He always tagged the last part on in his mind. For this one, seemingly random act, Sa'íd was now very popular among Wafiq's colleagues. It gave him access to the forge.
Sa'íd's ears turned in several directions at once as he examined the complex diagrams which explained positioning of lenses and mirrors. He began executing the instructions, carefully setting gears, wheels, chains, lenses, and mirrors to specific positions. He stopped as he heard the soft sound of paws on the stairs below, singing to the dark-furred lynx who entered. “I am here, Master Izdubar; shall we stand together against the Darkness?”
“I hear you, Sa'íd, and we shall,” replied the master. Izdubar had the signature double-crescent mane of the Sand People. Two half-circles of dark fur flowed out from just under his ears, framing his face and ending several inches below his chin. The half-manes did not meet, they left a gap underneath his chin. Each inside edge, under his chin, was snow white, stark contrast to the rest of the mane. Sa'íd found it to be a pleasing look, especially on females... of which there were none in this city. Izdubar began to wind the spring which would power the movement of the forge as he continued, “Go on; I'll help you re-adjust anything that ends up out of place.”
Sa'íd returned to the settings. Each forge was unique, and this was his third day working at the Great Forge of Solra. When he stood aside, Izdubar looked over the settings and nodded, “Well done. Only two adjustments to make. One for the humidity, and one for Alma'iyah Fuliev; Water Steel takes a slightly higher temperature than standard sword steel.”
Sa'íd carefully followed the Master's instructions and made the adjustments. He pulled out a wooden stop which held the spring away from the network of gears. A gentle ticking noise began as the system began its almost-imperceptible movements. He went to a heavy chain, looped into a system of pulleys, and pulled. The covering of the dome rumbled as it slid back, allowing daylight to hit the array. Even though the sun was still behind clouds, he could see focused light brightening the forge. Its dark ceramic surface absorbed the light and radiated it back as intense heat.
Sa'íd felt a treasured memory flood his mind as his tufted ears focused on a small sound below. His first time at a Solar forge, he had snuck in with a dead mouse and tried to cook it. The forge did not make a good oven. Sa'íd didn't even like cooked meat; but it had seemed like a brilliant idea when the older apprentice suggested it. The mouse had caught fire on one side, still raw in the middle, before a journeyman brushed it off with tongs and sent Sa'íd to the soldiers' stables. He had mucked out Horse dung for a week.
Claws clittered on the stairs, and young voices exchanged excited whispers. A moment later, Drago's ears drooped as he burst into the room. “We're tardy, Dugo. The array is a'ready movin'”
“Aw, we shou'dn't o' wasted so much time lookin'...” replaid Dugo.
Sa'íd smiled, “Looking for mice?”
The foxes laid their ears back; Izdubar narrowed his eyes in disapproval. Silence reigned for a long moment. Drago finally asked, “'Ow'd ye know?”
Sa'íd replied, “You never got around to killing them. I heard them squeak, and I see them wiggling in your satchels. Apprentices have been telling other apprentices about that trick since Master Izdubar was a cub. How would you not have mice?”
Dugo answered, “Ye wan' us to pu' 'em back?”
Sa'íd shrugged, “Master Izdubar has the final say on that. But you'll just come back with them later. Were it up to me, I would let you try it. However, I must insist that you kill a mouse before you toss it on the forge; I'll not have you torturing it. I also suggest you eat the rest as they are. I suspect your cooking skills are no better than mine.”
Izdubar idly stroked the tip of his mane, “Your friend is too lenient, but he is also right. The forge won't be ready for nearly an hour; it might even be cool enough to cook the things...if you knew how to do it right.”
Dragoslav asked the Master, “Will ye show us 'ow?”
Izdubar tilted his head, “You are the first apprentice to ask. I think I will. Get some small knives, a bit of oil, and some pepper.”
Half an hour later, they were discussing the aesthetic elements, durability, and functionality of scimitar designs. The sliced tidbits of mouse, rubbed in olive oil and pepper, roasted on skewers an inch above the forge's surface, had been... delicious. Dugo carefully scraped the last bit of ash, remnants of the cooking, off the forge as they talked.
Izdubar pulled out an ingot of Alma'iyah Fuliev smelted in Miyel Hamnatiyah and set it on the forge. He explained how to analyze the metal for inconsistencies which could be fixed in the forging process. It was a complex alloy, and they would be working to perfect it as they created the scimitar blade over the next month. Some time later, when the ingot glowed amber-gold, Sa'íd removed it from the forge surface and began shaping and folding.
They worked on the blade for weeks, Izdubar carefully guiding Sa'íd through each fold, occasionally sprinkling a powder over the bar, explaining what it was and how it would improve the weapon. There were rituals for each day as well, as the Master wanted more than mere metal to go into the blade. “Your very spirit must go into Alma'iyah Fuliev, or it will not serve as it should. Made rightly, it will pierce most armors. It will withstand even the mighty axe or greatsword of a bear.”
A fortnight later, after the twelfth folding, Izdubar pronounced the blade – it looked somewhat like a blade now – was ready for finishing work. For the next fortnight, they covered the blade in a clay mixture, heated it on the forge, and quenched it in water. Izdubar carefully inspected the blade each time, showing Sa'íd and the Foxes what he saw and how to analyze it for themselves. The next day he helped Sa'íd make a new mixture, slightly different from the one before, and apply it again, different thicknesses front to back, point to tang, before repeating the process. The blade slowly transformed from straight to curved, a little more with each dousing.
At last, Izdubar finished it, carefully working a fine line of powder into the single cutting edge, as all four chanted throughout the process. Sa'íd thought he saw the edge glow a little more brightly, but he was not certain.
For another fortnight, they took turns polishing it. It was already honed and sharpened by Izdubar; polishing brought out the natural running water pattern of Alma'iyah Fuliev, Water Steel. “Sa'íd, you will return in a fortnight,” Izdubar ordered, “The other craftsmen will have the grip done by then. Dugo and Drago, you will continue to stay with this blade until it is finished.”
Sa'íd returned to the training yard, practiced the trident with Hladan for an hour, and fell asleep.

*

Sa'íd faced the Fox gladiators, Hladan and Ugljo, two against one. He held a trident in his left fore-paw and swung a boleadora in his right. Leather-and-scale segmentata covered his shoulders and upper torso, while he wore strong greaves and vambraces on his limbs. They acted as both armor and shields. He was otherwise unarmored, free to move with his full grace and quickness. Three more boleadoras wound about his waist, ready for use after the first.
Hladan and Ugljo were similary attired, but they each used a single large net instead of the boleadora. Aquilius, watching from the corner, gave them the nod to begin.
Sa'íd dogded as Ugljo threw his net. The Lynx jumped high into the air while Hladan's net passed safely beneath him. Flipping on the descent, using momentum to carry him past the nets below, Sa'íd rolled as he landed. He launched himself sideways, pushing Ugljo's trident aside with his vambrace. Rising, Sa'íd threw his trident at Hladan and his boleadora at Ugljo.
Sa'íd had another boleadora ready. He lauched it at Ugljo while the Fox was still in the air. It wrapped the Fox up as he landed, entangling his arms and tail. As Sa'íd jumped forward to finish, he felt a net fall on him. Before he could free himself, padded tines thrust into his side, forcing his ad digitem of surrender. He had not finished Ugljo before Hladan put a net back into play. Sa'íd's whiskers drooped, and his ears fell back. He had failed once again.
Uglo and Hladan were smiling at him as they disentangled him from the net. So was Aquilius. Sa'íd furrowed his brow, “You seem unusually pleased; I just lost again.”
Aquilius deep rumbling laugh filled the yard before he responded, “We are only a quarter of the way into your training, and you just took out a seasoned gladiator while fighting two on one. You proved you are learning; of course we are pleased. There is hope for you, yet.”
He chuckled before turning to a new topic, “That is enough training for today. Get some rest before you need to make yourself pretty. And try to smell nice. Ugljo will help you. We are dining out tonight.”

*

Sa'íd splayed his paws on the ground, stiffened his body, screwed his eyes shut, and sneezed, seven times.
Ugljo laughed as he sealed the jar from which the offending powder came, “Cinnamon with a dash of pepper, mares love it mixed with the natural scent of a Lynx.”
Sa'íd attempted to reach up with a paw and clear his eye as he asked, “How do you know such things?”
“Don' touch the face!” Ugljo snatched the offending paw away from Sa'íd's eye before he continued. “I was a slave, personal attendant to a Patrician Matriarch, before I was a gladiator. She didn't like her slaves catching mice in her villa, so she kept ship-cats, the kind we use to keep grain shipments free of vermin in places where foxes won't fit. She liked them spiced this way, as did her friends.” He rubbed the spices into Sa'íd's fur, causing the Lynx to sneeze again.
Uglo picked up a flagon and offered it, “Here drink this.” Sa'íd drank deep of the wine. Warmth flowed down his throat, and the overwhelming need to sneeze subsided. He merely wanted to sneeze.
“How did you become a gladiator?” Sa'íd asked, as he knelt down so the fox could reach the top of his head.
Ugljo rubbed a mixture of olive oil and balsam around Sa'íd's ears and eyes as he continued. “I was to be sentenced to death for a capital crime, much as you were, but it was proven that my transgressions all came about at the express orders of my Mistress. She was executed instead of me. I was appropriated by the state and resold – limited to use as a gladiator – to raise funds to help pay off those affected by her orders. Aquilius' brother, Accipiter, bought me, and here I am.”
Sa'íd nodded as the Fox helped him into a black tunic and an amber sash, “So what were your transgressions?”
“Assassinations, some were by open combat against skilled, armed opponents. That's why Accipiter believed he could come out ahead, even with the outrageous price.” Ugljo tightened Sa'íd's sash.
“Accipiter payed blood money, so he could own you?” Sa'íd asked, remembering to keep his paws off himself.
The Fox agreed, “He did, and I'm not even a damnatus like you. I just had to earn enough money to buy my freedom.”
Sa'íd tilted an ear to one side. “Had to? You already have enough? Why didn't you buy freedom?”
Ugljo gave the Lynx a wide grin, “One of the conditions of my freedom is exile; I must leave The Republic and never set foot in it again once I am free. At first I stayed on to build up funds for free life; experienced gladiators make good money, after all. Then, when I was thinking of going, Aquilius asked me to stay awhile longer and help him with a new special project, a Lynx. So I stayed.”
Sa'íd knelt again, “You are the kindest and most loyal assassin I know.” The Lynx smiled as he felt a sudden burst of air between his ears. Ugljo was conducting an inspection with his nose, making sure each scent was properly placed and balanced against the others.
The Fox replied, “If you want to return the favor, see if you can get a couple more scimitars made, Hladan too, not just me. I'm sure to need a good weapon once I'm free.” He grew somber. “There is one more reason I've been slow to buy my freedom. My kind have a way of dying very soon after they go beyond the borders of The Republic. While I face death every match, it is hard to murder a gladiator outright. Even we are protected by The Law. Exiles are not.”
Sa'íd quietly asked, “Valerian?”
Ugljo nodded.
“All the more reason to have a fine weapon - I'll see what can be done,” anwered Sa'íd.
Ugljo went back to business. “Now, we need to do something about your breath. Chew this – don't swallow.” Ugljo shoved a wad of mint and aromatic grasses into Sa'íd's maw, and chuckled as Sa'íd's tongue lolled every which way, trying to free itself of the taste. The Lynx squinted his eyes and turned his ears sideways, chewing madly.
Certain this went on longer than necessary for Ugljo's amusement, Sa'íd was relieved when the Fox pointed to the water trough. The Lynx shook his maw under the water, washing out the awful taste as much as he could. He was careful to get only his nose, lips, and chin wet on the outside. Ugljo would start over with the spice powder if Sa'íd washed it off.
Asking Sa'íd to keep his lips peeled back and mouth open, Uglo sprinkled a salty powder around the teeth. He went over them with a fine, soft brush.
Another rinse, and the Fox cheered, “Now you are ready to dine with Matriarchs.” He dried Sa'íd's nose, chin, and whiskers with a linen cloth.
“And I won't have to ask for any extra spices,” agreed the Lynx.