Chapter 7:  Lessons

For the most part, breakfast was pretty quiet.  Tessa was still upset about being ordered around, and Duncan seemed content to just let her sulk.  Finally, after they'd both had their fill of fish and were nursing their cups of coffee in a weak attempt to avoid conversation, it was he who broke the silence.

"So, Tessa...you've been immortal for, what--three days now?"  She nodded, only half paying attention to the conversation.  "And you've pretty much adjusted to the whole idea, right?"  Another half-hearted nod.  "In that case, I think it's high time I started teaching you how to properly defend yourself."

That did it.  She spit out the coffee she'd just drunk and, wiping her mouth on her sleeve, shot Duncan a look that could very well have struck him dead, immortal or not.  "WHAT???"

"I said..."

"I heard what you said, Duncan.  I'm just trying to figure out where you got the idea that I'm helpless."

"Never said that you were..."

"But you're going to 'teach me how to properly defend myself'?  I already know how.  Didn't exactly spend the last three years dancing with Montoya's men."

"I hate to break it to you, Tessa, but what worked against a few dozen poorly trained soldiers just won't cut it in the Game.  You're going to be up against people who've had hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of years to hone their fighting skills."

"So?  I studied under the greatest swordsman in all of Spain.  In fact, I was his best pupil.  I've beaten opponents who were bigger, stronger, and had trained longer than I had.  Just last year, I entered a fencing contest in Monterrey.  I stood toe-to-toe with some of the greatest fencers in the world, and I won every single bout."

"That's all well and good, but it still won't help you in the Game."

"Oh yeah?  Well, we'll see about that."  Tossing her now-empty cup aside, she stood up and marched over to where Duncan was sitting.  "I bet I could take you."

"You really think so?"

"Come on, let's go.  You and me, right here, right now."

He looked at her for a moment, and then shook his head.  "No."

"What's the matter, MacLeod?  Afraid of losing to a girl?"

That seemed to strike a nerve.  He shot up from his seat, fixing her with yet another angry glare.  "Afraid?  Of a wee little thing like you?  Not a chance.  I was taking heads long before you were even thought of."  This overbearing Scot is trying to intimidate me. Hah. That only works if you let it.  Unblinking, Tessa stared the Highlander down as Duncan scowled at her.    "Fine.  You want to spar, then we'll spar.  But let's make it interesting."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I do recall hearing the word 'bet' come out of your mouth.  So how about a little wager?"

"Fine by me.  What did you have in mind?"

"If you can, as you claim, 'take' me, then I will do all of the work around here for the next month, and for that month, you won't have to do a single thing that you don't want to do, including training."

"And what if, for some reason, I can't?"

Duncan flashed her this almost-evil grin, and Tessa had a sinking feeling that she wouldn't like where this was going.  "If you can't, then YOU will be doing all the work around here for that month.  Meaning what I say, when I say it, no questions asked.  And that's on top of your training which, believe me, will make Senor Torres' sessions feel like a day at the bloody beach."

"Is that supposed to scare me?  Because if it is, then you really need to rethink your intimidation tactics."  She folded her arms across her chest, praying that Duncan wouldn't see through her bravado.  Dios, I am in way over my head here.  I should've just shut up and quit while I was ahead.  I'll be damned if I tell him that, though.  He'd never let me hear the end of it.  Oh well, here goes nothing...  She went over to where she'd left the mare, pulled the rapier from the saddle, and walked over to the middle of the beach.  "Alright MacLeod, let's go," she called, assuming the en guarde position.

"Put the sword down, Tessa.  I want to see how well you do without one first."

Tessa was a little confused, but did as she was told, driving the point of the sword into the sand and dropping into a boxer's stance like she'd seen Helm and Grisham use on various occasions.  MacLeod then walked over to where she was and did the same with his own sword.  He bowed to her and...well, as far as she could tell, he was just standing there, waiting.  Obviously, Duncan wasn't going to make the first move.

She jabbed, and he swatted it away easily--like he was shooing a fly.  A second jab met with the same result, as did the third and fourth.  Okay, this isn't working...I've got it!  This time, she feinted left and, as his attention shifted, launched a right hook at his jaw.  But it never connected.  Before she even realized what was happening, Tessa's back was hitting the sand, which suddenly felt more like stone.  She hit so hard that the wind was knocked out of her.  As she lay there, gasping for breath and waiting for her ribs to heal, she caught sight of Duncan standing over her, grinning.

"What...the hell...was that?"

"Just a little something I picked up in Japan."  He offered her a hand and she quickly pushed it away, climbing back to her feet without help.  Slowly, she circled him, trying to buy some time until the pain in her ribs finally subsided and figure out her next move.  MacLeod, for his part, just stood there and waited, not looking the least bit concerned about what she might do.

Once the quickening had finished working its magic, Tessa moved in and tried to take Duncan's head off with her foot.  He stepped backwards so it passed harmlessly in front of his face instead of connecting and, before she could regain her balance, a gentle shove sent her face-first into the sand.

"You know, Tessa, if you would just admit that you don't know as much as you thought, then we could call it a day.  It would certainly save you a lot of trouble."

Tessa stood up, spitting out the sand that had somehow found its way into her mouth.  "I don't think so."  She launched another attack, only to have it meet with the same results as the others.

And so it went.  Tessa tried everything she could think of, and still could not land a single blow.  Every attempt ended with her body hitting the beach, her frustration growing with each failure.  How is this possible?  Even sparring with Senor Torres I'd have been able to score a few touches by now.  How the hell can Duncan be beating me this badly?  Torres had always told her that anger during a fight led to mistakes, and whenever she'd fought in the past she could hear his voice in her head reminding her of that.  But this time, those warnings fell on deaf ears.  Again Tessa attacked, and again she found herself lying in the sand.

"Tessa, please, for God's sake stay down!  We've been at this for over an hour and you have't been able to lay a hand on me.  What are you trying to prove?  Please, just stay down and we'll call it a day.  I'll even hold off until tomorrow on that wager..."

That did it.  Seeing red, Tessa climbed back to her feet and launched herself at his midsection.  The move must have caught Duncan off-guard, because she was actually able to tackle him to the ground.  She used her advantage to start pummeling his face, hitting him so hard in her rage that, in several instances, she actually felt bones breaking.

At first, Duncan didn't even fight back.  But after a few minutes, she felt him struggling beneath her until finally he somehow managed to shove her off.  She rolled a few feet in the sand and, before she could stand, he scooped her up in his arms.  As he started carrying her away, Tessa pounded her fists on his chest, loudly demanding that he drop her.  Which he did--right in the now-freezing water.

"Cool off!"  With that, Duncan simply turned and walked away, picking up his sword as he did.  But rather than soothe Tessa's anger, sitting in the cold water intensified it.  After a moment, she emerged from the water, picked up her sword, and charged at MacLeod's back with a slashing attack.  At the last second, he turned, deflecting the attack and maneuvering their weapons so that his sword lay across his shoulders with hers caught behind it.

"Bad move, Duncan.  Now I'm in control."

"Really?"  He pushed her elbow, sending her into a spin.  When she next faced him, Duncan's sword was right under her jaw, the steel biting into her flesh.  He started circling, the position of his blade forcing her to move with him.  "You know, I probably should just take your head right now.  Save myself the trouble.  Why should I waste my time trying to teach someone who thinks she knows everything?  Frankly, I don't think you'd last long in the Game anyway.  So finishing you right now would really be an act of mercy."  As he spoke, Tessa knew every word to be true.  She hadn't given him any reason to believe otherwise.  All Ive done is act like a spoiled, arrogant brat.  Just like the boys I used to hate at the academy.

"You're right, Duncan, maybe I don't know everything.  All you've tried to do is help me, and I've been too stubborn to admit I need it.  So I don't blame you if you want to finish me off.  Just make it quick."  The blade came away from her throat and she closed her eyes, awaiting oblivion.  But it never came.  Slowly, she opened them to see Duncan standing in front of her, leaning on his sword.

"There, that wasn't so hard now, was it?"

"B-but I thought...I mean, weren't you going to..."

"Kill you?"  She nodded.  "No, I wasn't going to kill you.  I just wanted to make a point.  If you had been fighting someone else...well, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now.  Your arrogance could've very well cost you your head."

"I know," she said, dropping her gaze to Duncan's feet.  Her voice was barely even a whisper.  A gentle finger tipped her chin back up so that her eyes met his once more.

"I'm not mad at you, Tessa, just worried.  I've had students in the past who threw their lives away over their own foolish pride, and I don't want the same to happen to you.  You're a bright girl, Tessa, with a lot of potential, and you'll be around for a long time if you can just learn your limitations."

"You mean, like not trying to take on a 200-year-old Scot?"

He laughed.  "Something like that.  Good rule of thumb:  no matter how skilled you may become, chances are, there's someone out there who's better.  If you can remember that, and not let yourself become overconfident, then you'll be just fine."

"I'll try my best."

"That's all I ask."  He pulled his finger away from her chin, and Tessa noticed some blood on it.  Her own hand flew to the spot where MacLeod's sword had been earlier, and it too came away bloody.

"Shouldn't this have healed by now?"

"Let me see."  He gently tilted her chin up and moved in for a closer look.  "The cut isn't that bad, but...God, I am so sorry, Tessa.  I wasn't even thinking..."

"No need to apologize, Duncan.  Just tell me what's going on."

"Neck wounds can be a bit tricky since, after all, that is where we're most vulnerable.  Sometimes they heal right, sometimes they don't.  Look, why don't you take the mare back to her stall and get yourself cleaned up.  Maybe when you're done I can show you a few things."

"Will you teach me that last move you used?"

"Of course...when you're ready, which definitely isn't today."

"Okay."  A little disappointed, Tessa picked up her sword from where it had fallen, untied the mare's reins, and led her back up to the ruins.  As soon as she'd removed the tack, brushed the mare down and made sure she was properly settled in, Tessa went over to check on Chico.  The bay stallion was still sleeping peacefully, and she decided not to disturb him.  Instead, she moved to the rear corner of the stall, where Duncan had apparently piled all the saddlebags.  She had to get out of her wet clothes, and figured that one of them would have something she could change into.  Duncan's was on top of the pile, but all she found in his was food and a few pouches of coins.  Next was the set the mare had carried, and that one was pretty much the same as MacLeod's.

Disgusted, she tossed both sets aside and found one more hiding underneath--the very set Chico had carried on her final adventure as the Queen.  Tessa immediately opened it up and started rummaging through the contents.  At first, all she saw was the usual assortment of food, bandages, and spare throwing knives.  Exactly like I remember it.  Digging a little deeper, Tessa soon found what she was looking for.  Underneath everything else was one of her practice outfits as well as the makeup and false beard from the fencing competition.  Marta thought I was crazy for lugging all of this stuff around, but you never know when a good disguise will come in handy.  And under the circumstances, I guess it's a good thing I thought ahead.  Might not need it right now, but I definitely won't be staying here forever.

Stashing the disguise bits under some hay, she grabbed the fencing clothes, put all the saddlebags back where she'd found them, and went out to the horse trough to try and clean up some of the blood.  But upon reaching it, Tessa instead found herself staring at her reflection for the first time since her "death," and she hardly recognized herself.  Hair that had been so lush and full now hung from her head in limp, wet tendrils.  Her face was almost black with dust and dirt, probably because she hadn't had a proper bath in days.  She tilted her chin up a bit to look at her wound.  It had stopped bleeding, but still wasn't fully healed.  Damn.  I suppose this one falls under the "sometimes they don't" category.  Sighing, she dipped her hands into the water and splashed some onto her face.

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