She still hadn't tracked down the word "movie," but the connotations suggested some form of visual entertainment medium. If so, and if the Graysons had based their own swordplay on such a thing, its creators seemed to have done their research more thoroughly than modern HD writers did theirs. King's College had sent along a description of the traditional swords of ancient Japan, and the Grayson weapon bore a pronounced resemblance to the katana, the longer of the two swords which had identified the samurai. It was a bit longer, about the same length as something the records called a tachi, with a more "Western-style" guard and a spine that was sharpened for a third of its length, which the katana's hadn't been, yet its ancestry was evident.
Master Thomas had been fascinated to learn the samurai had actually carried two swords, and he was experimenting with adding the shorter of them, the wakizashi, to his own repertoire, evolving his own techniques for fighting with both of them. He had visions of introducing them as an entirely new school, but he'd also been delighted by the university librarians' inclusion of background on a fencing style called "kendo." Kendo was similar to existing Grayson styles, but he'd licked his chops as he identified differences between them. He was already developing a brand-new series of moves by combining them, and he looked forward to next year's planetary finals and an overdue settlement with Grand Master Eric.
"Well," she said now, working her fingers as the last tingles drained out of diem, "I suppose I should be grateful practice swords don't have edges. On the other hand, you realize you've just motivated me to land at least one touch of my own, don't you?"
"A man's, or woman's, reach should always exceed her grasp, My Lady," Master Thomas agreed with a gleam of humor, and Honor snorted.
"My reach, indeed! All right, Master Thomas," she lowered her mask and stepped back into the guard position, "let's be about it."
"Of course, My Lady." Master Thomas took his own position and they exchanged salutes, but the soft, insistent tone of the salle's door buzzer sounded before either of them could make another move.
"Darn!" Honor lowered her blade. "Looks like you've been saved by the bell, Master Thomas."
"One of us has, My Lady," he replied, and she chuckled again, then turned her head as James Candless crossed to the door. He touched a button and listened for a moment, then straightened with an expression of surprise.
"Well, Jamie?" Honor asked.
"You have a visitor, My Lady." There was something a bit odd in her armsman's tone, and Honor cocked her head.
"A visitor?" she prompted.
"Yes, My Lady. High Admiral Matthews asks if it would be convenient for you to receive him."
Honor's eyebrows rose in astonishment. High Admiral Matthews here to see her? She had enormous respect for him, and they'd come to know one another well during and after their fight to defeat Masada's attack on Grayson, but why was he here? And why, her eyebrows lowered, furrowing in thought, hadn't he warned her he was coming?
She shook herself. Whatever it was, it was probably too important to waste time changing to receive him.
"Please ask him to come in, Jamie."
"Of course, My Lady." Candless opened the salle door and stepped through it, and Honor turned to her instructor.
"Master Thomas..." she began, but the swordmaster simply bowed and headed for the dressing rooms.
"I'll leave you to your meeting, My Lady. We can reschedule the rest of today's session later this week, if you like."
"Thank you. I'd like that very much," she said, and he nodded and vanished just as Wesley Matthews entered the salle behind Candless.
"My Lady, High Admiral Matthews," the armsman said with a bow, and stepped into his proper place behind his Steadholder. Nimitz slithered down from his perch on the bars, and Honor handed her practice sword and protective headgear to Candless, then stooped to gather the cat in her arms.
"High Admiral." She held Nimitz in the crook of her left arm and extended her right hand, and Matthews gripped it firmly.
"Lady Harrington. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I hope it's not an imposition."
"Of course not." Honor studied his expression for a moment, then glanced at Candless. "Thank you for showing the Admiral in, Jamie."
"Of course, My Lady." It wasn't quite proper for an armsman to leave his Steadholder unguarded, but Honor's bodyguards had learned to adjust to her foibles. "High Admiral, My Lady." Candless braced to attention and left, and Honor turned back to Matthews.
"And now, High Admiral, what can I do for you?'
"I've come to you with a proposal, My Lady. One I'd like you to consider very carefully."
"A proposal?" Honors right eyebrow crept back up.
"Yes, My Lady. I'd like you to accept a commission in the Grayson Navy."
Honor's eyes opened wide, and Nimitz pricked his ears. She started to speak, then closed her mouth and bought a few seconds to think by lifting the cat to her shoulder. He sat higher than usual atop it, his spine straight, and his fluffy tail curled about her throat in a protective gesture as both of them looked intently into Matthew's face.
"I'm not certain that would be a good idea," she said finally.
"May I ask why not, My Lady?"
"For several reasons," Honor replied. "First and foremost, I'm a Steadholder. That's a full-time job, High Admiral, especially in a steading as new as this one, and particularly when there's been as much, ah, public discussion of whether or not I even ought to be one."
"I..." Matthews paused and rubbed an eyebrow. "May I speak frankly?"
"Of course you may."
"Thank you." Matthews rubbed his eyebrow a moment longer, then lowered his hand. "I've discussed my desire to offer you a commission with Protector Benjamin, My Lady, and he gave me permission to do so. I'm sure he considered your responsibilities as Steadholder Harrington before he did so."
"No doubt he did, but I have to consider them, as well. And they're only one consideration. There are others."
"May I ask what they are?"
"I'm an officer in the Royal Manticoran Navy, for one." Honors mouth twitched with an edge of bitterness as she said it. "I realize I'm on half-pay now, but that could change. What if they recall me to active duty?"
"If they do, you would, of course, be free to leave Grayson service, My Lady. And, if I may anticipate a part of your point, I should point out that Manticore has a tradition of detaching officers to assist allied powers, and they've already lent us a large number of personnel. Under the circumstances, I feel confident First Space Lord Caparelli would agree to any request we might make to offer you a Grayson commission."
Honor grimaced and chewed her lower lip. The offer had completely surprised her, and her own reaction to it puzzled her. A part of her had leapt in instant excitement, eager to get back into the one job she truly understood. But another part of her had responded with an instant stab of panic, an instinctive backing away in something uncomfortably like terror. She gazed deep into Matthews' eyes, as if what he saw when he looked at her could somehow tell her what she truly felt, but there was no help there. He simply returned her gaze, politely but directly, and she turned away from him.