Okay sorry about the delay to all my loyal readers but I have my cousins down for the week and they have to take precedence. Anyhoo, here is the next chapter. Action time!

Watcher

The Lord of clan Sheelal opted to go and practise with his guards instead of sharing food with his family, something he could not do in any regards anyway. It was a sad fate that his ability to eat and feel and taste had all been denied him. The best way for him to sidestep all of this was to avoid being in a situation where his lack of "appreciation" for food would not be remarked on. So it made a nice change to be able to go and fight for a change.

As always the battle had put him in good humour and high spirits. As he returned to the house he noticed something. His eldest, the boy who had mocked him the previous evening, was sparring with an elder warrior. This should be somewhat interesting. Without letting himself be seen Grievous slipped into his shaded porch of the house and kept his eyes peeled.

The battle was short sharp and fierce. The boy swung his sword in an arc that was just not fast enough. Pathetically easy for someone like the master who countered with a swift blow which knocked the sword out of the boys hand before sweeping around, clipping his ankles with the flat and dumping the boy on his back! The boy winced in pain and struggled to stand. The swordmaster sighed.

"My apologies Master Sheelal, but your work is not up to standard. You will need to practice more than this if you hope to progress."

"How can I if I don't have anyone to practice with!" the boy spat out the words with a vehemence Grievous could sense would be anathema to any beast which crossed his path.

The swordmaster seemed to show some regret when he said, "It should have been your father teaching you these things, not I. He was a master of both sword and gun, a true warrior! Alas that he is gone. We will not see his like ever again."

As the boy rose he threw out an angry string of mutters which quickly gained volume until they were audible. "My father is dead and gone and is therefore of no further use to me. Again!"

He rushed the master again. A fatal flaw Grievous noted. Only get angry if you were one who could channel anger, and it took years of training to be able to do that. A head on charge was simply likely to earn you a humiliation at the hands of the master. As happened. It was like seeing the movement of one of his guards, the flawless mechanical execution of a pre-programmed response. The boy went down again. The master sheathed his sword and patted the boy on the shoulder and walked off.

For some time the boy stood quietly and looked around him. He seemed to be close to a moment of despair. But then, in a moment which impressed the watcher, he regained control and steadied himself. Drawing his sword he adopted his ready stance and began the forms and the flows of the swordsman. The watcher was certainly impressed and it occurred to him that this boy in front of him was perhaps worthy of his respect. Another thought occurred. It should have been him who was there teaching his boy.

The sword curved through the air with swift strokes. The young Sheelal held it in both hands as he swung with a much precision as was possible for a youngling of his age. He needed too get better fast. If he didn't it was quite possible that he would no longer be eligible for entrance into the Kaleesh ranger squads that his father had been the instigator, creator and leader of. But until he could be good enough with a blade, that idea was of no use.

"You're grip is slightly off."

Fort a moment he couldn't remember where he had heard that voice before. Then he remembered. The voice belonged to the one who had tried to strangle him the other night.

"I don't need your instructions! Leave me!"

He continued his practice. Even so he could still see out of the corner of his eyes that his father was still there and still watching him.

"What do you want?"

"I can help you if you want to learn."

"Not from you!"

"Well if you think you are good enough then do you want to face off against me?"

The boy snorted in derision. Grievous picked up one of his staffs and took up a martial position, used for fighting with a shoni spear.

"Let's see if you are as good as you think you are."

How many of you hate me now that I cut off the fight midway but there you go. I want to have time to run over it and work it out properly. It will be up soon.