"I think we're already wagering our skins on each of our own underclassmen," Javier replied.
"Fine." Elezar sighed. "But mine's going to beat the crap out of the rest of yours. I'd put money on that." Elezar strode towards Ollivar with such a hard, calculating look on his face that Ollivar took an involuntary step back.
"We'll see," Javier replied.
They paired off and spaced themselves throughout the gallery. Jackets and shirts came off right away. Kiram would have liked to remove his boots as well but he knew Cadeleonians didn't go barefoot unless they were too poor to do otherwise. None of them seemed able to appreciate the feel of the ground beneath their feet.
Kiram stood, waiting for instruction, while Javier gave him the once over. "You've done some kind of training before you came to the academy, haven't you?"
"Not really." Kiram tried not to stare at Javier's exposed body. The bright sunlight accentuated every curve of lean muscle and illuminated his pale skin. The deep cleft of his chest led Kiram's eyes down over his flat stomach to the fine line of hair that rose just above Javier's dark blue pants. Even standing in the light of the midday sun, something nocturnal, almost ghostly, pervaded Javier. Kiram could understand why so many of the other students were hesitant to touch Javier's bare flesh. He seemed too radiant and too dark all at once.
"Not really?" Javier cocked one black brow. "You wouldn't be willing to be a little more precise, would you?"
"I've studied with a dance instructor since I was ten," Kiram offered. He felt suddenly embarrassed of his own slim body and lanky limbs.
"Dance."
"And I've practiced archery as well," Kiram added quickly.
"It shows in your arms and chest." Javier touched the curve of Kiram's shoulder lightly, hardly brushing his skin. His fingers were dry and unexpectedly cold. "You have an archer's stance. You're certainly not built to be a foot soldier."
"I know." Kiram lowered his head. His failure would mean punishment for Javier as well as himself, and he hated the thought of that. "This isn't going to work, is it?"
"Of course it will work." Javier touched his shoulder again but this time more firmly. "You can't fight the same way the Grunito boys do, but trust me, there are other ways to bring them to their knees." The way Javier smiled and his sensual tone almost made Kiram flush. "Now stand straight for me. Let me see what Master Ignacio has already taught you."
Kiram squared his shoulders, standing at attention the way he did for Master Ignacio.
"Legs a little farther apart. You want to be as stable as possible. Don't lock your knees." Javier placed his hand lightly on the back of Kiram's knee. "You want to be balanced. Bend into an oncoming impact and still stay on your feet. That means keeping your knees supple and responsive."
Javier lifted his hand to Kiram's chest and pushed him. Kiram stumbled back a step and Javier shook his head.
"You're too stiff. Just relax and let your body respond naturally." Again Javier placed his hand against Kiram's chest and pushed. This time Kiram tried not to tense at the contact. He allowed his weight to drop against Javier's hand. As Javier shoved him, Kiram bent his knees slightly and felt his balance steady.
"Better." Javier pulled his hand back suddenly and Kiram stumbled forward. "But you probably shouldn't actually lean on a combatant."
"Sorry." Kiram straightened.
"Don't be. Normally I wouldn't care if you fell into my arms, but since we're in mixed company." Javier shoved a lock of his dark hair back from his face. "I'm afraid I really can't take full advantage of the situation."
Kiram's entire face flushed red and Javier laughed. Elezar appeared amused, while Atreau just shook his head. Nestor squinted at Kiram but had obviously missed the entire exchange.
"Try not to get so easily flustered," Javier said. "The boys from the Yllar Academy are going to say a hell of a lot worse things to you during the autumn tournament."
Kiram nodded. He didn't want to tell Javier that the words themselves hadn't flustered him. It had been Javier's intense gaze and the easy way his tone slipped from jovial to sensual. Kiram was sure that the information would only serve to feed Javier's conceit and fuel more of his heartless flirtations.
Kiram resumed the square, Cadeleonian fighting stance.
"Good stance but." Javier suddenly shoved his hand into Kiram's chest. The strike landed faster and harder than Kiram expected. He stumbled back.
"Still too stiff," Javier finished his criticism.
"Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. Just concentrate. You need to find your center of balance and maintain it. It won't matter how many maneuvers you master if you can't stay on your feet."
Javier's words reminded Kiram of one of his dance instructor's lectures. She had told him to stay balanced at all times and to remember that the center of his body rested on the edge of his hips. Even during the supplest twist or most exhausting leap he needed to remain centered in his hips. He shifted his stance slightly, disregarding Master Ignacio's insistence on stiff shoulders and squared hips, and slipped into his familiar dancing stance. This time when Javier shoved against his chest, Kiram swiveled aside. Only Javier's fast reflexes kept him from falling forward. Kiram couldn't suppress a pleased grin.
Javier's expression changed as he considered Kiram's new stance. For the first time Javier's study of him was neither playful nor condescending but hard and calculating.
"Let's try that again."
The second time Kiram pivoted aside, Javier twisted with him and then toppled him with a quick shove. Kiram hit the floor.
"You weren't supposed to fall over." Javier frowned down at him.
"Well, what did you expect? You pushed me hard enough." He could feel wood shavings clinging to his back and working down into his pants.
"You looked like you knew what you were doing," Javier said. "You're not actually hurt, are you?"
"No," Kiram admitted.
"Good." Javier grabbed Kiram's hand in a firm grip and pulled him to his feet. "Let's keep working on your stance, then."
Kiram spent the next two hours learning to dodge Javier's rapid strikes. When he successfully evaded, Javier pressed the assaults, harder and faster. Kiram twisted out of reach only to have Javier trip his legs out from under him.
Despite the constant falls, there were moments of triumph. At least once during each exchange, Kiram moved fast enough to evade six strikes in a row. The two of them circled and spun as if they were dancing until, inevitably, Javier overtook him and brought him down.
By the end of the lesson, sweat and sawdust caked Kiram's body. His dark blue pants were strewn with wood shavings. As he wiped away the sawdust clinging to his knees, large clumps of it fell from his curling hair. Javier brushed off Kiram's back.
"You did well." Javier hardly seemed to have broken a sweat. "Better than I would have expected, to be honest."
Giddy from exhaustion, Kiram grinned at the compliment.
"Not much of a fighter's body, but you have the right spirit." Javier paused, mulling something over. "If nothing else you're tenacious. In a real fight sometimes that makes all the difference."
Even if he hadn't fully mastered a balanced stance, Kiram felt certain that he had learned something more integral to combat. It was just what Javier had said. Combat demanded dogged persistence, of both his body and spirit. More than once he had been tempted to remain on the floor after Javier knocked him down, but his pride had not allowed it and now he was glad.
As exhausted and bruised as he was, he was standing at the ready, meeting Javier's approving gaze with a tired grin. He wasn't lying on the floor gasping like Ollivar, or crouching with his hands wrapped around his ankles as Ladislo was. Nor did he feel as miserable as both Nestor and Chilla appeared. Chilla sported a large red scrape across his forehead. Beads of perspiration dripped from Nestor's hooked nose; his chest and back were red and slick with sweat.