John remembered how his own body had looked during his first year in Rathal’pesha. He crouched down. The boy’s eyes were a surprisingly light shade of green. John smiled at him. The boy looked worried.
"I can’t sign very well," John whispered. "So you have to tell me if I do anything wrong."
The boy nodded.
John straightened and held out his hand. Eriki’yu hesitated, but then reached out and attempted to grasp John’s forearm with the grip Arren had demonstrated. His slim fingers felt clammy. John gently repositioned Eriki’yu’s thumb to improve his hold. They repeated the grip several times until Eriki’yu seemed to have mastered it.
"Your turn," Eriki’yu whispered.
John already knew the grip. He’d learned it years ago in Rathal’pesha. Still, he went through the motions of practicing it. He tucked his thumb too close to his forefinger and let Eriki’yu correct him. It seemed to make the boy feel more comfortable.
Then it was time to practice combining the grip with a throw. Even if he had been full grown and powerfully built, Eriki’yu wouldn’t have been able to leverage John off balance. It didn’t matter how well he mastered the Fai’daum fighting techniques. They both knew it. And so did the other men in the fighting hall.
Lyyn and his friends had stopped their own practice to watch. John realized that they were as disdainful of Eriki’yu as they were of him. Maybe more so, since Eriki’yu so obviously couldn’t defend himself.
John stepped back, then reached out for Eriki’yu. The boy caught his arm and twisted. His grip was perfect. John forced himself to lurch forward and to stumble to his knees. It was surprisingly difficult.
Eriki’yu looked shocked.
John glanced past Eriki’yu’s shoulder to Lyyn and his friends. Their expressions were a mix of surprise and disappointment. Lyyn’s eyes narrowed as he noticed John watching them.
John straightened, returning his attention to Eriki’yu. The boy almost flinched back from him as if expecting John to strike him.
"You must have taken me off guard," John said quietly. "Your grip was perfect."
"It was?" Eriki’yu asked.
John nodded.
When it was John’s turn to throw Eriki’yu he used as little force as possible. Still, he could see that just hitting the mats hurt the boy’s bruised body.
"I think my grip isn’t quite right," John whispered. "Do you mind if we practice it without the throw for a little while?"
"Sure," Eriki’yu replied.
For the remainder of the hour John practiced grips with Eriki’yu. After the boy realized that he wasn’t going to be thrown again he relaxed notably.
At last Arren signaled the end of combat practice. The men bowed to Arren. Then he dismissed them. John started for the door, but Arren blocked him.
"Jahn, can you wait? I’d like to talk to you about something."
John watched the men and boys file out of the hall, noting how Eriki’yu rushed to get out first. John guessed that the boy wanted to get in and out of the baths as fast as he could. Though from the condition of Eriki’yu’s hair, John wondered if he wasn’t skipping washing altogether.
After the last of the men had left, Arren turned to John.
"I thought you ought to have some real practice," Arren said. "And I have the next hour free."
"You want me to practice with you?" John asked.
Arren nodded.
"Tomorrow I’ll have one of Lafi’shir’s captains come practice with you. I didn’t have time to arrange it for today."
"Oh." John wasn’t sure what this all meant. Was Arren pulling him from regular combat practice?
"Take your stance," Arren said.
Immediately, John shifted to a Payshmura battle stance. Arren charged him. John blocked his attack. Arren bolted back and then attacked again. Arren landed a hard kick against John’s chest before John caught him and pinned him down to the mat.
"Good." Arren regained his feet the moment John released him. "But don’t be so tentative. You could have pinned me the first time I attacked if you’d followed through instead of just blocking and waiting for me to come at you again."
John nodded.
"This time you attack," Arren decided.
John briefly studied Arren’s stance. Unlike the workmen John had trained with in the Warren, Arren seemed at ease in a battle stance. It wasn’t just a pose he struck for an hour a day before he went back to work in some other trade. Fighting was all Arren did. He would know how to defend himself.
John relaxed a little. He threw some real force into his attack. Arren barely dodged his blow and kicked hard into the back of John’s knee. Instantly, John shifted his weight to his other leg and kicked back. The blow sent Arren stumbling back several feet.
"Are you all right?" John spun to face Arren. He had already resumed his battle stance. He frowned at John.
"Are you always this concerned about your opponent’s welfare?"
"I just don’t want to hurt anyone," John said.
"What do you think the point of all this practice is?"
John frowned down at his hands.
Arren stepped closer to John. "If you train yourself to hold back, then you will do just that when it comes to a real battle. Most of the men you’ve been practicing with are tradesmen. They aren’t likely to see real fighting unless the Warren is breached. But you will be out in combat. I would have sent you to soldier for Lafi’shir already if Ji hadn’t decided to teach you. But you will be sent. Soon, I think. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, I do."
"You have to take your attacks more seriously."
"If you think that’s the case, then why did you assign a child as my opponent today?" John asked.
"That was for his sake, not yours," Arren replied. "I plan on assigning him to you for the duration of your stay in the Warren. You’ll have your real training sessions after the others have left."
"I see." John wanted to ask about what was happening to Eriki’yu, but he realized that Arren wasn’t going to say anything more to him. Arren shifted to his battle stance and charged. John sprang aside. Arren spun and punched hard into the small of John’s back. John brought him down with a kick.
But Arren didn’t stay down. They continued fighting until a group of women arrived for their combat training an hour later. Arren’s dark skin gleamed with sweat. His breath came in deep gasps. Beads of perspiration hung on John’s brow and the back of his neck. His arms and chest were slick with sweat. His muscles felt hot and almost fluid. The intense exercise had reminded him of training in Rathal’pesha. It had felt good.
John offered the gathered women a greeting hand sign. Most of them returned the gesture reflexively. Tanash grinned at him. Arren signed for the women to fall into their practice formation. John left the training hall and headed toward the private baths.
He stripped off the flimsy red pants and poured a bucket of cool water over his body. Then he soaped himself and rinsed with a second bucket of water. He leaned against the tiled wall and closed his eyes. He waited to feel the cold whisper of the Gray Space against his naked skin.
Normally Ravishan arrived just a few minutes after John locked the bathroom door. But today he didn’t appear. John frowned at the empty space of the bath. He studied the air for any distortion, but there was nothing.
John had come to the bath an hour later than usual. He wondered if Ravishan had gone to look for him. John waited. The last beads of bathwater clinging to the hair of his legs and arms dried. There was still no sign of Ravishan.
If anything had happened to Ravishan in the Gray Space, John had no idea how he would get him out. How would he even find him?
John pushed his hands against the tiled wall as if he could somehow reach through them into the Gray Space. The incised surfaces of little glazed leaves bit into John’s fingers. He could feel the silica and suspended minerals. He sensed miles of stone and soil. But the Gray Space eluded him.
In Rathal’pesha where the earth and air seemed scarred, it had seemed easy to recognize the Gray Space. He had been able to see the lines it carved into the surrounding world. He had followed them to Ravishan. But now John realized that he had never seen beyond those faint lines into the Gray Space itself.