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Diving out of the way of his attacker Mat rolled across the hard barn floor and lept back on to his feet barely bringing his word back up in time to block another attack from his foe. This time mat saw an opening and struck out with his heavy broadsword into his openents chest. In his mind he could see the defeated man slowly sagging to his knees are blood dripped from his gaping mouth--
"Mat!" came a shout from the barndoor.
Mat jerked back into reality--he had not heard his father walking into the barn. His father was standing in the door way with the morning sun just peeking over the mountains behind thier farm. His dad, or Thom as as everyone called him, was in his middle age with a touch of gray appearing in his blonde hair. he was dressed in long loose pants with many pockets sewn into the sides to hold an assortment of tools or other necesitoes. He wore a green long sleaved shirt the buttons up in the front. He didn't look pleased to see what Mat had been doing.
"Mat, you know I don't like you playing these games" muttered his father, looking disaproovingly at the bundle of straw that Mat had shaped into a practice dummy. Mat didn't own a real sword like some of the guards in the town, brayerfield, that they often traded with. Mat had met a man who had let him hold his sword, and even taught mat a few basic fighting tricks. Mat had modelled his practice sword off of that mans sword out of the limb of an old oak-tree. Now looking at the straw dummy, battered from his previos activities towards it, and the wooden sword sticking out of it he felt his face turning red with embarasment.
"Its not games", said Mat defencedly, "I want to learn how to defend myself if we got attacked by bandits again". Last year the farm had been raided by a gang of out-laws; they stole some of the cattle, and destroyed some of his fasthers property. Mat though his father look almost torn for a second as he stared at Mat quietly.
"Perhaps it time you did learn how to use a sword. Yes, perhaps its past time--If I don't teach you how to use that sword properly you may injure youself and be of no use when I need you help with the barley crop". The face of his Father had taken on a harder, more determined look now.
"Y-you would teach me?" Mat was surprised, his father did not wear a sword like many of the men in the towns did, and had never confessod to knowing how to use one. Mats father look distant for a moment, a almost sad look in his eyes.
"I was not always a farmer, son", said Thom, running a hand through his hair in discomfort. "I once served in the kings army: int he Great Wat itself ". Giving ahimself a small shake he changed the subject, "I'll be right back, we'll start with your lessons in just a few minutes". he turned around and left through the barn door, leaving Mat alone in the Barn. His head was buzzing with questions about his father just then: why hadn't he told him he was in the army?, why did he suddenly decide to teach Mat how to use a sword when he had been so vehement about Mats 'practice' sessions before? It was not long though before his father came back into the barn, this time he had a rough wooden sword much like Mats. Gripping the wooden sword in his hands Thom grinned, an almost boyish look on his face, and relaxed into a ready half-crouch.
"So let us begin" he said.
* * *
For the next two weeks each day after they had finished the work that had to be doen around the farm Mat would find himself back in the barn, with his ather teaching him sword-play. Some times his father only talked--giving oral lessons that Mat was quick to remember and put into practice. Other nights his father would show him Forms with the practice sword, or had Mat try to attack him with his sword. It was the nights that these duals took place on that he was put most to the test. His father was a very skilled swordsmen, and Mat previos practice sessions with the dummy had done very little to improve his own skills. Everytime he would launch an attack his father would easily side-step it, or defelt it withh a decft flik of his wrist. Soon though mat noticed that his father was no longer as calm-looking as he had at the start of these practice sessions. he face soon took on a look of intense concentration and he was not as quick to predict where Mats next attack might come from. It was on the last day that his father would teach him swordplays that his father took him aside at the end of the day and told him proudly how mcuh he had improved.
"When I saw you training by yourself on that straw dummy I thought you would hurt yourself at any moment. You barely knew how to keep it from smaking you as you swung it around" Thom grtinned to take the bite off his comment. Mat knew the truth of it know though and grinned back at him.
"I was very bad back then," he admitted, "but with these last couple of weeks of practice I have improved more then I had in months of practice with the straw dummy". A