The Boy and The Man by Offer R (list of ebook readers .txt) 📕

"It was arranged by my father, who used to train me personally and thought he saw in me some buried talent. You know, parents are sometimes like that. So he called in Mr. Musashi, an old friend and a legendary teacher of the art though he is little known in the kingdom, and asked him to make me into the finest swordsman the kingdom has ever known. Mr. Musashi agreed to undertake this presumptuous mission as a personal favor to father. With his sharp eyes he saw quickly that I wasn't the prodigy father had believed me to be. But as a personal favor to me, he continued to train me without informing father of his folly. Father has therefore long believed that I have few equals in the kingdom; when word of your heroism reached his ears, he became incorrigible. He wanted to prove to the kingdom that a simple boy from the south, though there may be none braver than he, is no match to the prince. Mr. Musashi's pleas were futile, and needless to say father wouldn't even listen to me. And so here we are, before what may be the royal family's greatest humiliation, in front of half the kingdom. And Mr. Musashi- he refused to flee the kingdom as I'd suggested. It would take less than an unforeseeable disaster for him to be hanged on account of deceiving the King."

The Boy stared at the chagrined prince in astonishment. 'It wouldn't take as many modifications to his story as one might expect for it to become my story', he thought. All of his nervousness and anxiety ever since he'd learned of the arrangement of the duel- the prince shared them, only tenfold as intensely! Then he thought, 'I could surely allay his discomfort if I revealed to him my own secret.' But why should he do it? He'd suffered so much to keep his secret to himself; perhaps this would be his chance to be rewarded for it.

"You see", the prince continued, "why it is imperative that I keep this secret hidden from the people, and most of all from my father."

"I do. But I don't see how it would be possible to do."

"Oh, but it would! It is! With your generous help, my dear friend."

"My help? But I'm only a boy. What influence could I possibly have on such grave affairs?"

"But you're not just a boy. You are The Boy who defeated a monster with a stick and nothing more! And you are my rival in the duel, and the one whose superior skills of swordsmanship would reveal the inferiority of mine." The prince was becoming enlivened, as though relaying his trail of thought to The Boy made it more plausible to the prince himself. The Boy, on the other hand, was put ill at ease. He'd focused on the prince's plight to forget his own troubles, but was now reminded of the humiliation he might bring to himself, to his parents, and to all the people south of the forest. He also realized that if the duel were to take place as planned, the prince should have no reason for concern. He would defeat The Boy so convincingly that the true nature of his skills would remain unknown. So he, The Boy, was the only one whose plight was real. But his, the prince's, was the only plight known to them both and therefore of any consequence.

"You imply that I may be of assistance to you", he said without giving away a single clue as to his troubled thoughts.

"You may be my savior", the prince said without reservation.

"I beg your pardon? I think you overestimate me. Wildly, if I may say so. I can only do what I can do, will though I may to do much more."

"Err not, my friend. Refuse my request if you like, but don't deny the truth: the fate of our duel, and with it my fate as prince, lies in your hands."

"This so called truth evades me, but I shall like very much to hear this request you speak of but have yet to state."

The prince sight heavily, making not the slightest effort to hide the toll this discussion was taking on him, and especially what was to follow.

"Let me reign supreme. Do whatever necessary to allow me to triumph over you", he said in the voice of an abashed thief.

"You mean let you-"

"Let me win. Precisely. Strike slowly. Act surprised by my attacks, predictable and weak though they may be. Grunt and moan if you must. And in the end of the act, submit to me. Prove that you're not only a superior swordsman but also a superior man to me."

"But won't they be able to tell? Your father- he's an expert swordsman. I'm afraid I'm a very poor actor; he will see right through it."

"Not if we arrange a preconceived sequence."

"You mean-"

"Plan our moves ahead. Coordinate our ever strike, every maneuver, so that I will take the advantage first, then you will turn the tables on me, and finally succumb to a last-minute surprise counterstrike. It'll be only half an act, really. Don't forget, they're not expecting blood, so we would have to take special care anyway. Nobody will be able to tell."

'Yes! It's the perfect solution!' The Boy thought. 'I will be defeated- but that neither matters nor is avoidable. I will be spared the humiliation as long as I follow our predetermined sequence. Nobody will ever find out that yesterday was the first time I'd ever held a sword. This whole event will be forgotten- perhaps even celebrated if our sequence is dynamic enough. And the prince will be content.' He was about to express his enthusiastic consent to the prince's request, but then the deal was made even sweeter for him:

"Agree to it, dear friend, and you shall always have the gratitude of the prince, and perhaps one day the king, of your kingdom", the prince said humbly. Such a true and unpresumptuous young man he was, that The Boy took this as an infallible guarantee that he would always remain in the prince's favor if their plan was effective.

"I agree!" He exclaimed, only partially successful in concealing his enthusiasm. "I will do as you request of me."

"You will? Oh, God bless you, my friend; my brother!" The prince blurted out almost ecstatically. He hugged the simple boy from the south and was filled with life. "Now, we have just over an hour to practice our moves. Here's what I had in mind…" And he lifted the sword from its stately stand on the wall and began to demonstrate his plan.

Chapter 5

The big courtyard bell was about to strike four o'clock, and the stage was set for the commencement of a truly festive event of the kind that painted the kingdom in its most colorful form and put the people in their finest feather. The arena was crowded with thousands of eager men, women and children, almost all of whom were of rank, who reveled at the spectacle that they believed had been arranged on their behalf. What a brilliant, selfless enterprise it was, undertaken by their beloved king for the entertainment of his people! Indeed, there wasn't a single member of the great audience that wasn't thoroughly entertained.

The main event had been preceded by some silly acts of acrobatics, followed by a thrilling bullfight that included five bulls and seven bullfighters. The outcome of the fight was of course predictable to all, but the process of spilling the bulls' blood somehow nonetheless stirred great excitement in the audience. Most excited were the children, to whom the sight of blood was usually a most hideous experience. But the arena had its own rules and the people their own personality when they were in the stands.

Presently, the protagonists of the event that was the real reason the great crowd had congregated were preparing to enter the arena from the main gate, and the suspense in the audience was tangible. Meanwhile, the prince and The Boy were waiting in a dark tunnel for the gates to be opened. They stood side by side, muttering something to each other on occasion but remaining silent for the most part. They were both focused on practicing the prearranged sequence, which they'd already practiced at least twenty times but wished there was time to increase that number tenfold. They were equally and undividedly intent on this, as each of them believed that if the sequence unraveled he would be lost.

For the event that the sequence would, for all their efforts, be botched, they'd shrewdly prepared a Plan B. They'd agreed upon certain very simple key words that each would use in his turn in order to prepare the other for the upcoming strike. This way the defending side could always expect the attack beforehand and easily prevent it. It was riskier than following the sequence, but it provided a good security net.

The two boys wore matching uniforms, which weren't very comfortable but were indeed very presentable. The Boy had been fitted a red satin shirt of the same design as the prince's by the royal tailor. Who knew that a tailor could muster up such fine handiwork within one hour! Then again this shouldn't be terribly shocking, as he was the finest tailor in the whole kingdom. From the waist down they were identical, wearing much more comfortable black cotton trousers. Anyone with the slightest familiarity with the principles of good swordsmanship knew that, contrary to popular opinion, it was the legs and not the arms that made the difference.

They heard a man at the center of the arena present them to the zealous crowd, and then with a deep grumble the giant doors began to open.

"Are you ready, Boy?" The prince said nervously.

The Boy only nodded, for he was far too tense to speak.

When they stepped out into the sunny open arena they were greeted with a tremendous roar. The Boy's knees wobbled, and he looked at the prince with a sense of surrender in his eyes. To practice their charade in private was one thing, though nerve-wracking in itself, but to do it here in front of so many impassioned people… he couldn't do it! It would be humiliating to turn back and bolt back into the tunnel now, but a thousand times more to be ridiculed by half the kingdom.

"I'm sorry, prince. I can't do it", he mumbled. But when he realized that the prince had the same concern in his beautiful blue eyes he retrieved his courage. Fortunately the prince hadn't heard him over the raucous.

"Wave!" The prince said to him instead.

"What?"

"Wave to the crowd! Thank them for coming to see us." The prince demonstrated, swinging his arm from side to side and turning around so the whole audience could bask in his fleeting attention. The Boy followed suit, and when he saw the joy and excitement the people derived from such a simple gesture, he was greatly energized. Suddenly this whole thing didn't seem like a very bad idea.

"This is fantastic!" He bellowed so the prince could hear. The prince lacked The Boy's newfound enthusiasm, as this kind of glorious halo wasn't new to him. On the contrary, he was afraid of losing it.

"Focus, Boy", he said. "This is no time for celebration. Remember- I strike first."

The Boy nodded, rehearsing the sequence in his mind again. It was so much clearer and easier to follow when he had this great confidence inside him. The man at the center of the arena said a few more words to hush the audience and then declared the beginning of the duel between the two boys who everyone believed to be the finest young swordsmen in the kingdom.

The sword was light in The