Chapter 9-Guy: Masterless Sword

*thunk* *thunk* *thunk*

The steady sound of an axe splitting wood was the only thing that could be heard as worked right through the still heat of the day. And really, that was the way he liked it. The silence helped him focus on the rhythm of his work, the steady rise and fall of the axe replacing all other thoughts.

Lift. Place. Split. Clear. Lift. Place. Split. Clear.

So easy to get absorbed in such a simple task, to let the peaceful simplicity of the repetition just take over his mind. There was nothing there but himself, the wood and the axe. Nothing else to worry about, nothing else to think about. That suited Guy just fine. Thinking was one thing he tried to avoid these days.

There were so many things to think about. So many problems. The past, Matthew, Grant, his own stupid mistakes. And the future, what to do once he left the farm, what path to take, what his own goals even were anymore. The past was painful and the future uncertain, both could consume his thoughts in a moment without even knowing what to think about either one.

So Guy kept his mind in the present. There was a lot of work to be done on a farm, and many things had been left undone for quite some time. Like building up a proper supply of firewood.

The sounds of the axe continued to fill the air as the young man searched for serenity in the labor. Lift. Place. Split. Clear. Lift. Place. Split. Clear.

The old farmer frowned a bit as he came out of the cow's stable to the sight of his granddaughter watching the boy at his work. It's not that he had any dislike for the lad. Quite the opposite, actually. He was honest, he worked hard and he had a kind heart, it was hard not to like him. But old Fredrick had met his like before. the boy was a hero if he'd ever met one.

Walking up to Emily's side, the old man broke the silence, though he kept his voice low, "Boy's at the firewood again, is he?"

Without even looking at her grandfather, Emily nodded, "He seems so troubled. I wonder what he's thinking about?"

You mean you wonder if he's thinking about you, ya fool girl. Fredrick didn't have the heart to speak his mind to his granddaughter, but he couldn't just let her sit there and daydream. There was work to be done, afterall. "Gettin' about time to start dinner, innit?"

Emily flushed a bit and bobbed her head, "Oh, yes. I was just fetching some water for the stew." Before the old man could say another word, she ducked off to the well to get the water.

Letting out a sound that was half sigh and half grumble, Fredrick moved on to the chicken pen to continue his own work. He felt bad for the girl, but she was already set on getting her heart broken. Heroes don't settle down with farmgirls, afterall. No matter how many romantic wishes the farmgirl dreams up.

"Been two weeks a'ready, hmm?" Fredrick used his last chunk of bread to soak up the remaining broth from his stew as he spoke, keeping half an eye on the boy's expression as he brought up the uncomfortable subject. "I've heard you plainsfolk cin get sticky 'bout yer honor, but I reckon ye've got t' know ye've paid me back by now?"

"Uh..." Just as Fredrick expected, Guy didn't seem to be very happy to hear the subject come up. He'd been avoiding talking about that, or really any plans at all for the future for awhile now.

Rubbing his neck in a bit of embarrassment, Guy nodded, "Yeah, you're right. I guess you'll be wanting me to move on tomorrow?"

The old man didn't even need to look to the third seat at the table to know what his granddaughter's expression was right now. But the farmer ignored her for a bit and shook his head at Guy's assumption, "Ain't that, son. Keep workin' like ye 'ave been and yer welcome t' stay long as ye like." Looking up, he made eye contact with the swordsman, "But if yer gonna be stayin' much longer, I'd at least like t' know why? This ain't the life a man with yer skills dreams about. Have ye really nowhere t' be goin'? Are ye hidin' from summat?"

"Am I what?" Guy's expression and tone were somewhere between confused and angry at the question, "No, I'm not hiding from anyone. I'm not some kind of criminal or anything."

That reaction got a laugh out of Fredrick, "Calm down son, the law ain't the only thin' out there men hide from. But I git what ye' mean." Finishing his meal, the farmer let the silence grow a bit, giving the young man time to volunteer an answer on his own. But he only sat there uncomfortably, troubled with whatever thoughts were going through his head. Leaning back in his chair, he gave a nod to his granddaughter, "Ere'ones done, so clear the table, girl."

She looked angry herself, of course. Fredrick knew she would. But she was raised better then to make a scene and did as she was told, leaving the men alone in the room for a moment.

As Guy started to stand from the table, Fredrick motioned him to stay seated, "All that tells me is why yer not here, son. Ye still ain't said a thin' about why ye are. Do ye want to be a farmer, son?"

Guy shook his head, "Not really, no. I just...don't know where I should go next. I don't have any family anymore. Or any friends."

"None? There's ne' anyone out there who'd welcome ye? Yer a soldier, right? No old comrades who'd be glad t' see yer blade?" The farmer paused a moment, then took a stab at a guess, "Or is that th'life yer wantin' t'leave behind?"

The young man was quiet. Fredrick could tell he was thinking now, which was enough for now. Standing up from his seat, he grabbed his coat to go out and see to some evening chores. As his guest cast him a surprised look, the old farmer gave him a nod, "Ye don't have t'answer me this second. But think on it. And try mendin' the fence come morning, I think the woodpile's seen enough a'ye for a bit."

Guy turned a critical eye on the mended fence posts as he stepped back from the last one. Well, not overly critical, he was hardly an expert in the field of repairs. But it all looked sturdy enough, which was enough for him. He'd worked right though the heat of the day without pause to finish it before nightfall, and though he was now fairly exhausted he considered the effort worth it. The fence had been fairly bad, it's repairs just one more of the things that had gone undone here for so long.

Turning back towards the house, Guy was surprised to see Emily at the edge of the walk, seemingly waiting for him. He'd noticed her watching him before, of course. You don't live very long as a warrior if you aren't observant, a fact that the horseberries hammered back into his skull with a vengeance. He pretended not to notice, of course. He'd never been very comfortable around girls, and it wasn't like he didn't have enough else to think about right now anyway.

Of course now that she was standing right there in plain sight it would be a little difficult to pretend not to see her. So he just waited for her to say something first.

He didn't have to wait too long, as she took a few steps towards him, almost a bit hesitatingly. Guy wasn't an expert judge of people, but he knew what fear looked like at least and this wasn't it. Was she nervous? A girl nervous about talking to him? That's new, normally it's the other way. Put a bit off balance by the unfamiliarity of the situation, Guy nodded a greeting and broke the ice, "Oh, um, is it dinner time already?"

Emily nodded back, "Yeah, it's been ready a bit. Grandpa said to let you finish your work first, though."

Guy inwardly winced at just how well the old farmer had him figured sometimes. If he left the job unfinished it would have been bugging him the entire meal. "Um, right. Well, thanks. I'll head inside now."

He started to hurry past her toward the house, but stopped when she called out from behind him.

"Are you really leaving?"

Guy looked up at the sky in silence. He hadn't said he was yet, but he knew he couldn't stay here much longer. The old man really was right, this wasn't the life for him. He may have lost everything else, but he still had the sword. He still had his dream.

Turning around to face her, he nodded, "Yeah. Tomorrow, maybe the next day."

Emily's voice was quiet, but he could still hear her clearly over the still evening, "You don't have to go. Grandpa would never admit it, but there's alot he can't do anymore. I'm not really strong enough for men's work either, and it ain't like Brute can help us with more then scaring off crows and wolves. You'd make a good farmer, Grandpa could teach you everything."

A good farmer? Guy actually had to laugh at that idea, getting a strange look from Emily as he did. "Maybe I could, but I don't think I'd like it. I just...don't really care about the land like that. I give thanks to Mother Earth and Father Sky like all my people, but that's about it." Looking around at everything he'd done so far, he did have to admit that he picked it up faster then he thought he would, but it wasn't because he felt a calling to it.

"I work hard to pay my debts," he explained with a smile, "but this isn't what I want to do. I still have my dream."

"Your dream?"

"To be the greatest swordmaster in all of Sacae." Guy's hand went down to the blade he wore even while working on the farm. He didn't draw it, but simply ran his thumb along the familiar hilt, confirming what he'd already accepted. It felt natural, far more so then any of the farming tools he'd used over the past weeks.

Emily watched him with a mixed expression, "Are you really that good?"

"Not yet. I'm getting better all the time, but there are still people better then me. I have to keep practicing, keep fighting, until I've surpassed them. That's the Way of the Sword."

Her expression grew a bit darker, "Have...you killed people? Just to get better?"

Guy shook his head, "I'm not Karel. I've killed people, yeah...alot of people actually. But always for a cause. Either defending myself or protecting my...allies. I would never kill someone just to prove I was better. I'd fight them, sure, but to the disarm or first blood, never to the death."

"Why? Why is fighting so important to you?"

"I..." Guy was stricken dumb for a moment. Nobody had ever really asked him that before. Probably because he'd always been in the company of other fighters who just understood. He didn't really know what to say. Finally he just shrugged, "I don't know, really. It's just been my dream ever since I was little, to be the best of the best. The sword feels natural, like an extension of my arm, like I was born to hold it. And..." he paused. He didn't really want to say it. Saying it made it real. But he couldn't just ignore it either.

"And?" She prompted.

"And it's the only thing I have left."

Emily sighed, shaking her head, "Don't you get it? I'm trying to tell you that it doesn't have to be! It already almost killed you at least once! Do you want to die?"

Guy was a bit taken aback. Did he want to die? What kind of a question was that? "Of course not! That's why I have to keep improving, until there isn't anyone out there who can beat me."

Now she just stared at him flatly, "What kind of logic is that? Why...why don't you just put the sword down? What's so bad about settling down?"

Guy looked away. He wasn't completely dumb about girls, he could figure out what she was really asking. But...he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to give it up, to admit that he failed at his life's dream. He failed at taking care of himself, he failed at making friends, but he hasn't failed as a swordsman. Not yet.

As he stood there thinking, Emily moved closer, trying to catch his eyes, "We...I...really want you to stay."

"Call it pride."

She took half a step back, surprised by the words, "What?"

Guy smiled apologetically, "Why I can't stay. I've made a mess of everything else in my life, but I haven't failed at my dream. I have to keep trying, until I either succeed or I know I've lost."

They were silent a moment longer, before Guy turned to go back into the house, "I'm sorry."

He felt her eyes on his back as he went through the door. Unable or unwilling to say anything else, he didn't know.

"You got everythin', son?"

Guy nodded at Fredrick's question, hefting the bag of travel food they'd prepared for him, "Yeah. You didn't have to pack all this for me, you've already done so much."

The old man waved off his concern, "Ye've paid fer it well enough. Decided where yer goin' yet?"

"Caelin. Grant should still be there, I think. I should have stuck with him all along, but..." Guy scratched his head in embarrassment a bit. They'd already heard at least the very basics of why he'd gotten into the horseberries.

"Will you ever come back?"

Guy actually blinked at the question, the first thing Emily had said to him since they talked two nights ago, "Um...probably not. I don't know where Grant's headed, but it won't be anywhere peaceful like here. And...well, I can't promise I'll even survive, much less have the time to find my way back. I'll try if I can, but it's not very likely."

Emily bit her lip, choking off whatever response or argument she had ready. Guy couldn't really blame her, from her perspective what he's going to do must look really stupid. This is part of why he never really tried to make friends with people who didn't fight. Some things they just never understood.

Not wanting to draw out the goodbyes any further then necessary, he gave the big dog one more scratch on the head and one last wave to Fredrick and Emily, "Thanks again. I'd better leave now if I want to make it to town before dark. Bye."

As he turned and walked away, he heard the old man behind him, "'Member, straight south 'til ye hit the road, ye cin find yer way from there. Take care o'yerself, boy."

Without a response, the young swordsman started on his way to Caelin. What happened in Badon still hurt like nothing else that had ever happened to him, but the time on the farm had been just what he needed to remember who he was, and what he needed to do. The Way of the Sword was his path, as it had always been, and that was something that could never be taken from him. Not by Nergal's magic, not by Rath's scorn and not by Matthew's betrayal.

What he needed now wasn't friendship, but simple understanding and a worthy cause to fight for. Guy was never really good at coming up with his own causes, but he knew just the man who could help him. As the miles stretched on, he kept his focus, following the roads unerringly for the Caelin territory where he was sure he would find Grant...and with him, a purpose.