"Begin." Came the cry from Ser Aron Santagar, the Master of Arms at the Red Keep.
Jon gripped his sword tightly and advanced. Tyrek on the other side did the same. Jon waited. He knew that there was always a temptation to strike first, but experience was showing him that it was better to let the opponent make the first move.
There was a way the southerners held themselves in the sparring ring. Jon had noticed it when he'd seen the knights of the Kingsguard spar. Some of them like Ser Meryn Trant dragged their right foot, whilst others like Ser Boros Blount kept their left foot forward despite the attacks coming their way. The only one who didn't have some sort of identifiable tick was Ser Jaime. He was the perfect fighter.
Jon hadn't seen Ser Barristan Selmy fight, but he had overheard the King remark that even in his advanced age, the Lord Commander could disarm every single other knight in the Kingsguard. Jon wanted to see that happen. But he doubted he would.
Tyrek surged forward, his feet moving together. Jon raised his sword and blocked the other boy's swing. They held themselves in that position for a brief time and then Tyrek pulled back and moved backward. Jon waited. He kept himself balanced and kept his breathing even. Tyrek came again, this time angling at Jon's right.
Jon managed to get his sword to the area in time. There was a loud clang. But this time Tyrek didn't pull back, instead he pushed. Jon held fast. Tyrek was pushing hard, but Jon was older and stronger, he grunted with the effort, but he managed to push Tyrek away. This time however he decided against waiting and decided he'd follow through.
He bounded forward, the wolf in him singing. He swung one way and missed by a whisker, he then pivoted and struck hard on the right. Tyrek's sword came up just in time. Jon broke before the other boy could hit him and instead lured Tyrek toward him. He moved one way and then another, Tyrek following. When he sensed an opening, he ducked and dived and then smacked Tyrek on the face.
His friend grimaced. Jon pushed his advantage. Knocking Tyrek on the other cheek and then managing to get his sword to the other boy's throat. He grinned. Tyrek grinned and then they pulled apart.
"Again." Santagar called out.
Jon decided to strike first this time. He moved, the wolf in him giving him an advantage. He had Tyrek pinned back at the edge of the circle before either of them knew it. Tyrek was panting and yet Jon didn't feel tired. Instead, he moved backward, luring Tyrek toward him. However, this time his friend didn't take the bait and instead waited.
Jon's blood was up and whilst he knew that doing this was wrong tactically, his gut was telling him to move. He moved quickly and harshly, his sword a blur. Tyrek blocked three of the blows but the fourth one got him right on the cheek causing him to wince. Jon pushed ahead. Swinging until he'd knocked his friend's sword out of his hand.
"Again." Santagar commanded.
Jon stepped back but Tyrek came at him with ferocity. His friend swung and grunted. Jon had to use every bit of instinct to prevent himself from becoming a smudge on the ground. Tyrek hammered away, Jon found himself stepping further and further back until he was touching the edge of the circle.
He waited for surely the blow would come. But it didn't. Instead, Tyrek kept hammering away at him, trying to break down his defences. By doing so, Tyrek left himself vulnerable. Jon exploited that. He moved slightly, shifting his weight, whilst keeping his sword up to meet his friend's blows. In the gap between the attack, he moved forward, surprising his friend and causing him to stumble backward.
In that, Jon found an advantage. He brought his sword up and smacked Tyrek's sword to one side and then pushed his own sword against Tyrek's throat, for a third time.
"Enough." Santagar said.
Jon and Tyrek broke apart and bowed to one another and then to Santagar, they then handed their swords over to two servants who took them and would place them in the armoury.
Santagar came to stand before them both. "Tyrek you're too impatient." He said without preamble. "You need to wait for your opponent to make a mistake. You had Jon on the backfoot in that last bout but your desperation to get a result cost you."
"Yes, Ser Aron." Tyrek replied bowing low.
Santagar turned to Jon. "Jon, another good performance. But you must pace yourself. Sometimes you act too quickly. In a real fight that will cost you."
Jon nodded. "Yes, Ser Aron."
"Good, you're both dismissed." Ser Aron said.
Jon and Tyrek both bowed then walked out of the practice yard. As they did so, Jon caught the Crown Prince staring at him. Jon bowed his head but heard the Crown Prince snort. When he looked up the boy was gone.
"He never spars." Tyrek said. Jon looked at his friend, eyebrow raised. "The Crown Prince. He never spars. He watches others but never fights himself."
"Why?" Jon asked.
"His mother. The Queen refuses to let him do so. She's worried he'll get hurt." Tyrek said.
"But surely the future King needs to know how to fight?" Jon asked surprised.
"You would think so, but I suppose he won't have to. With you in his Kingsguard." Tyrek answered.
Jon blushed, but took the compliment all the same.