"He's alot stronger than he looks."
"I noticed," he said, wiping a line of blood from his maw. "Those were not just the Ways. I saw a great deal of the Dance in your style. You have done well to combine them into a single form. With your speed and power, I'm surprised that you rely so much on defense."
"I just prefer defense," Tarrin shrugged. "I was trained to fluster an opponent, then take him down when he loses his temper."
"An acceptable style," he said with a nod. "But you should also learn to know when to use more aggressive techniques. Some opponents won't lose their tempers."
Tarrin nodded. Jegojah had been almost icy in his control, and it was he that goaded Tarrin into losing his temper. And Tarrin paid for it, dearly. "I usually don't have to go that far," Tarrin said. "If I get too aggressive, I-" he cut off, looking at the Knights. "Let's just say that I'm Ungardt enough."
Binter nodded. "Berzerker," he said. "We have them in our own race."
Tarrin gave him a curious look, but said nothing. "Let's work on that," Binter said. "Come at me with a more aggressive technique. Don't worry about hurting me."
"Alright. Are you ready?"
"Let's begin."
Binter turned out to be an excellent teacher. After working with Tarrin for about an hour, he began to break down the Were-cat's technique and style, and began working with him to perfect it. Tarrin also realized that, though he got in some lucky shots because Binter was unfamiliar with Tarrin's unique abilities, Binter was by far the better warrior. He taught Tarrin several Vendari moves that relied on raw physical power, power that Tarrin possessed. He helped Tarrin improve his style when fighting with his claws, developing Tarrin into using a flowing, sweeping form that allowed him to rake and slash with impressive speed and precision. Binter had his own claws, and he knew how to use them. And Tarrin gained alot of experience in fighting a much larger opponent. He knew that the larger the opponent, the more of a target his knees became. Binter reinforced that, literally teaching Tarrin how to take down members of his own race. "The larger they are, the more dependent they are on their knees," he preached. "We have had alot of experience against Ogres and Giants, and attacking their knees and hamstrings is the most effective technique."
"Ogres? Why would you need to fight Ogres? They're rather peaceful for Goblinoids."
"They are over here. In Wikuna, they are very, very agressive. The Giants aren't quite so aggressive, but sometimes a rogue Giant or two comes down from their lands to raid." He looked up at the cloudy sky. "It's getting late. Her Highness is nearly finished with her classes, and I have duties to perform." He approached Tarrin and then touched his chest, his muzzle, and then reached out with his huge hand. "You are a warrior of honor," he said formally. "I greet you as a man of respect."
Tarrin wasn't quite sure if it was proper, but he mimicked the Vendari's movements, and then he clasped Tarrin's paw when he offered it. "And you are a warrior of greater honor," he said in reply. "Any who ask of you will hear that I hold the utmost respect for you."
"You have proven yourself to be worthy of honor, Tarrin of the Were-cats," Binter told him. "You will be accepted by our fire if you ever ask for hospitality."
"How did you know I was a Were-cat?" he asked curiously.
"You forget who I am tasked to defend," he said with a smile, a smile that seemed cold with those dead black, expressionless eyes.
"Oh. I didn't realize she talked about me."
"She talks a great deal about you," he told him. "She is quite taken with you and your Selani sister. I have never seen her so genuinely fond of others."
"I'm very fond of her. Though I have no idea why," he added in a slightly rueful voice. "She can be very obnoxious sometimes."
"Yes, but you see what is inside, not what she shows to the world," Binter said with a steady look. Tarrin stared at him. Did he know Keritanima's secret? "I must be going. I enjoyed our match."
"So did I," he said. "Be well."
"Honor to you," he said in farewell, picking up his hammer and then striding away on his long, powerful legs. Leaving Tarrin to wonder at how much he really knew. Binter seemed a very intelligent Vendari. Maybe he had penetrated Keritanima's disguise, and merely said nothing, because it was against his honor to do so. Bodyguards had be as discreet as they were capable of defending their employer, because they saw a great deal of their employer's private life. If Binter felt it against honor to speak about Keritanima's private life, he simply would not do so. Even if ordered to by Keritanima's father. And he would gladly die before speaking what he felt honor bound to withhold. That was the Vendari way.
Keritanima surely knew how to pick effective companions, Tarrin mused. With Miranda to act as her decoy, and Binter to act as her champion, she was very deeply entrenched.
He wondered idly what was taking the Council so long. His demands weren't that complicated. They should have at least sent someone to talk to him by now.
"Allia should be getting out soon too," Tarrin said to Ulgen and Faalken. Darran had wandered off to help as the cadets practiced thrusting with wooden replicas of swords. "I'd better go."
"Don't mind me asking, but why aren't you in class?" Faalken asked.
"I'm on strike," he said calmly.
"You're what?"
"I'm on strike," he repeated calmly. "I won't start going to classes again until they meet some of my demands."
Faalken gave him a wild look, then both he and Ulgen began to laugh. "I've never heard of that!" Ulgen snorted between bouts of laughter.
"Tarrin, I knew you had guts, but to make demands of the Council! That takes serious-"
"That will do," Darvon said bluntly as he approached.
"Yes, Lord General," Faalken said with an outrageous smile. Tarrin saw that Faalken was feeling plucky. Why he was crazy enough to pick on Darvon was quite beyond him. Tarrin bowed as the aged leader of the Knights reached them.
"You're looking good, Tarrin. You ready to give up on the Tower and take your rightful place over here?"
Tarrin chuckled. "I may not be far from it, my Lord General," Tarrin said. "I've grown tired of the way they treat me, so I'm on strike. I'm not going to another class until they treat me with more respect and consideration."
Darvon gave him a wild look. "You are serious?" he asked.
Tarrin nodded. "I want the same treatment as all the other Initiates. They were so serious about that when I was a Novice, and now they pin me in here with that Ward and treat me like a prisoner. Well, I'm tired of it."
"It's a dangerous game you play, Tarrin," Darvon said seriously.
"I can handle it, my Lord General," Tarrin replied. "They really can't do anything to me. What are they going to do, ground me? Put me in chains?"
"They'll give you serious punishment."
"Who's going to deliver it?" Tarrin asked pugnaciously. "They'll have to do it when I'm being very unfriendly. I don't think there's a Sorcerer in the Tower that doubts how physical I can get if they upset me, and whoever tries to exact that punishment runs a serious risk of losing his guts."
Darvon gave him a serious look. "You walk down a dangerous path, cadet," he warned. "The Council can get very nasty when they put down insubordination."
"It's no more dangerous than their path. They can't handle me like other Initiates, my Lord General. I'm alot more dangerous than the average Initiate. I'm not asking for anything outrageous, and my ability to inflict damage on the Tower is already very much understood. The choice of how things happen after this is theirs."