38. River, Meet Dam
"Nikos! Where have you been?"
"On my way here. Lovely to see you too, Avocato."
"You're late!"
"I'm early."
"Nikos!" With his usual disregard for personal space and a happy shout, Felice barged into their room. Grinning, he hugged Nikos from behind, duffel bags and all. "Welcome back! So glad you're here."
Coming to the only possible logical conclusion based on the evidence presented, Nikos sighed. Dropping his bags onto the bed Avocato had already made up for him, he asked, "What has he been doing now?"
"Driving us insane. He's all yours."
Avocato glared, but his friends were immune to him.
"Have fun," sang Felice, heading for the door. "Scream if you need help. We'll send FannFee."
Turning to his roommate, Nikos studied him for a moment, quite adept at reading Avocato's moods. Though possessed of immense self-control and therefore outwardly calm and cool, it was evident to someone who knew him well that Avocato was extremely agitated.
"Do you need to vent or beat something?" he finally asked, listing the available options.
Ventrexian to the core, he chose violence before reason.
"Beat something," Avocato said instantly, and after a moment's consideration, "then vent."
Nikos pulled off his jacket, in no way surprised this was his welcome. "Let's get changed and hit the gym."
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Since the workout was for Avocato's benefit, Nikos let him choose how he wanted to destroy and be destroyed. He opted for weapons once they got to the workout rooms. A few other cadets were there before them, so Nikos and Avocato found an unoccupied corner of the gym to warm up before moving on to beating one another with sticks.
Nikos used a tapered staff that was almost his height, while Avocato's weapons of choice were two sticks as long as his arms. Nikos was particularly deadly with a staff, and Avocato knew going in he would be hitting the mats on the floor a lot.
Perfect.
It was very true that after the past few days, he very much wanted to hit something. What was equally true, and typical of martial artists, was that he also wanted to be hit and pushed to his limits.
That Nikos was an accomplished martial artist surprised everyone in his class except Avocato. The lesson had been thoroughly driven home their very first week at the academy, even before Kedi had arrived. In an attempt to gauge how well trained the incoming class was, everyone in Squad 3 with any type of combat training had been lined up by height. They ended up with almost half of the squad in a line with Nikos at one end and Avocato at the other.
"The rules are simple," called their instructor, Binx. "First person step out, face the next. Whoever scores five hits first or downs their opponent moves on to the next person, and so on until they're eliminated. I want to see good control, no injuries, no claws or biting. Cadet at the end, what's your name?"
"Nikos, sir!"
"Cadet Nikos, step out and face the cadet to your left. Begin!"
It was a slaughter. Nikos ate Squad 3 alive, and it was glorious.
His style was unlike anything anyone present had ever encountered, even the instructors. Lighting fast, he flowed like water, circling to his opponent's blind spots, not allowing them a target by not being where they expected, always moving, moving, moving. He kept a deep stance that allowed him to shift in any direction and vary his height, and his kicks were low and direct most of the time, but he could also release a stunning kick to the head which Bix rated as effective as a takedown. The moment he faced Stergar, Nikos dropped straight down, spinning as he swept Stergar's feet from beneath him in one smooth shot that landed the arrogant young lord flat on his tail.
Four matches later, he did the same thing to Kitner.
By the tenth match, the cadets were supremely indignant and frustrated, especially those with long experience. Nikos should have been getting worn down, but little powerhouse that he was, he never slowed. They didn't know it and would have judged him harshly if they did, but this was the benefit of a lifetime working a farm and swimming. The cadets fighting him had varying levels of skill. The novices were eliminated before they could even start. A few landed blows, but everyone got far worse than they gave. Out of sheer vexation, some of the more skilled fighters tried to sneak in a cheap shot here or there, but Binx had sharp eyes and called them out, immediately forfeiting the match to Nikos. After the second attempt, they abandoned this tactic.
Avocato, by this point, had already decided this demonstration was one of the best things he'd ever seen and he was shouting encouragement to Nikos – one of only a handful of cadets to do so. Whatever this form was named, it clearly was not one of the noble arts familiar to most of the students present, and therefore they automatically felt it had no place here at the royal academy. It was almost the same thing as cheating. Many of the cadets – especially the ones who had already lost – bristled with resentment at being served by someone who was obviously not of noble birth. They had no basis to counter a style so different, so base. This was street fighting. This was dirty. Lowly. Absolutely beneath the dignity of an officer or anyone of decent bloodline. This was common.
But the real issue was, no one wanted to admit they were grossly outclassed.
Outclassed and spiteful.
And so they tried to reassure themselves as their senses of superiority and security were directly challenged by . . . by a provincial.
"I must learn how to do that," Avocato said out loud as Nikos spiraled down to sweep the feet from beneath an unsuspecting girl. A laugh escaped Avocato. He was at once awed, delighted, and thrilled – as much as at Nikos' obvious skill as at seeing Kitner and Stergar picking themselves up off their asses in less than five seconds.
Standing next to Avocato and watching with slack-jawed amazement, Binx answered, "You and me both, cadet."
"Avocato," said Belle in a mono-tone, one before him in line and next for the sacrificial altar, "you have to stop him. I know I can't." She shook her head in resignation. "Tell my parents I love them."
"This is unprecedented," Binx said as Belle, for all her size and strength, ended up at the receiving end of an elegant trouncing. He looked at Avocato. "Can you take him?"
He smirked in anticipation. "I can try."
"Match! Catch your breath, Nikos," said Binx. "Excellent performance." He gestured at Avocato. "Whenever you're ready, cadets."
A slow grin spread across Avocato's face as he stepped out of line to confront his roommate. Panting, well pleased with himself, and amused at how easily he'd taken out half the squad, Nikos looked up and up Avocato's towering frame, watched as he dropped into an uncommon, open-pawed fighting stance, and knew he had met his match.
"Fire Tail?" asked Nikos, trying to determine Avocato's style from his stance alone.
It was a good guess, but wrong. He gave a tiny shake of his head. "Temple Claw," he said, to the general shock of the cadets who heard. Temple Claw was the fighting style of the Royal Guard, and exceedingly exclusive. Only people with close ties to the royal family or guardsmen themselves were allowed to learn it. Avocato ignored their reactions and focused on his opponent. "You?"
"Saan-ko," Nikos replied.
It was a style he had not recognized, but he recalled the name from their first conversation. "After the river?"
Nikos smiled, pleased that he remembered, and made a small, graceful gesture. "Flow like water."
"Lay not a hand," Avocato responded with the motto of the Royal Guard, and attacked.
It was not a fair match. Nikos was winded, and despite his winning streak, had taken a beating. Avocato had been given a chance to analyze his moves from the start, and had an idea of what to expect, while it was obvious Nikos was unfamiliar with Temple Claw and its significance. Avocato had studied one of the most elite and lethal styles of fighting on a planet full of fighters. There was no doubt of what the outcome would be.
But Nikos made him earn it.
He launched a flurry of open-handed strikes, quick and direct and designed to put Nikos on the defensive. He could tell Nikos had never fought anyone his size before, and had limited experience fighting different styles. Most of the shots were blocked by hands, arms, elbows, and knees, and many of Nikos' blocks were as effective as strikes. Avocato knew he's be sore today, and probably wouldn't be able to move tomorrow. It was worth it to find so skilled a martial artist. He drove Nikos back, shifting every time the smaller cadet tried to circle to the side to keep Nikos in his sights and force him to fight straight-on.
A sudden kick to his face gave Avocato the opportunity he'd been looking for. It was a beautiful strike, one that would have ended a match or brawl, and it certainly ended Nikos. Avocato blocked upwards with his left arm, deflecting the kick to the side before he twisted his arm around Nikos' leg and pinned it tight to his side in one motion. Caught on one foot, Nikos realized what was happening just as Avocato moved forward too quickly for Nikos to compensate, spilling him to the mats amidst the cheers and jeers of his classmates.
"River, meet dam," Avocato said with a broad smile.
Nikos let out a breathless laugh as he was released. He flopped, spent. "Dam you, Avocato. How-how long have you studied?" he asked with open admiration.
"Since I was three. I want a rematch when we're both fresh."
"Definitely."
He hauled his roommate to his feet. "That was an amazing show. They'll never live it down. You have got to show me that sweep."
"Teach me your ways, I'll teach you mine," promised Nikos.
"Deal."
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And now, two years later, they were able to lay into one another with abandon. They had learned enough of the other's disciplines – including bits of the other three styles Avocato had studied besides Temple Claw – to have developed a fusion form, gleaning what worked for each of them. When it came to weapons, Avocato was unchallenged and unchallengable. He had an instinct for them, especially bladed weapons. Even with weapons completely unfamiliar like laser claws or power whips, he could intuitively figure out their best use in moments.
They sparred now, clashing weapons and bodies as Avocato worked out the stresses of the past few days. It was good to focus on something other than obnoxious first year cadets and their equally obnoxious class head. Getting past Nikos' defenses, even with two weapons, was a welcome challenge. It was worth a few cracks on the shin or the top of his bare foot to burn off this negative energy. They had been at it a while and were fairly winded before Nikos asked over the loud cracks of wood on wood,
"So – ow! What's eating you? Something happen at home?"
"No," grunted Avocato, pivoting to Nikos' rear. Nikos moved with him, not entirely successful in parrying the stick Avocato aimed at his thigh. "Family's good. I'm going to be the fourth heir in a few months, thank the Brightstar."
"Con-gratulations," Nikos ground out, struggling to keep up with the swiftly moving sticks and kicks.
"Took them long enough. Catomar has – oof!" As Nikos darted back, he hooked Avocato behind his forward foot, spilling him to the mat. Avocato lay back, panting, and finished, "Really come around since marrying Vana. He's positively tolerable these days."
He sounded positively confused by the change in his eldest brother. Nikos gave him a hand up and exchanged Avocato's sticks for his staff. "So, who's got you riled? Not Col. Cataloupe, surely."
So between blows, blocks, sweeps, and getting up from the mats, Avocato gradually told the whole story of Apritom's inglorious premier at the royal academy, including the conversation with Major Bitara. As was his habit, Nikos let him tell all before asking any questions.
"He asked you to drop a report after an assault and willful disobedience?" He thrust the sticks upwards, crossing them to block an overhead strike, then countered with a shot to the ribs. "Pretty sure that's Menti's sister, by the way. In front of the colonel? Is this major mad? Do you think it was something calculated?"
Avocato smoothly swept the attack away. "Now that you say it, it might have been. He tried to put me on the spot in front of our class head, and threatened to order me to do what he wanted, contrary to academy rules."
Nikos snorted, slowing to a stop. "As if the colonel would tolerate such conduct."
"As if I valued my integrity so cheaply. Another round?"
"No. Unlike you, I've been traveling for two days. I want to clean up, and eat."
"Oh. Sorry."
Nikos shook his head. "I wouldn't have suggested a workout if I didn't want to get my tail handed to me. Have you eaten today?"
Avocato's hesitation was answer enough, and a good explanation for his moodiness.
"Hmm." Nikos scowled. "Come on, Little Cato. We'll change and eat and make whatever tea your mother sent this time, and you can finish venting at me. Besides, I have news of my own to share. A rather interesting letter arrived while we were in the Far Reaches."
"Oh?" Avocato immediately sparked to the change of topic. "From a lady?"
"Yes."
"Cordell?"
"No."
"Her mother?"
"No."
"Cordata?"
"No!" Nikos sounded sufficiently horrified at the notion.
"In fairness, she'd send a letter bomb."
"Cato, stop. Even if you guess it, I'm going to say no. Food first, news second."
Avocato huffed. "You are no fun."
"I'm a great deal of fun. But right now, I'm hungry. And so are you."
For that, he had no argument.
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"Princess Apricot?!" Avocato beamed as he opened the letter Nikos slid across the table to him, his voice deliberately pitched so the nearby tables of first-year cadets would hear. Why not? If Nikos wouldn't show off a bit, Avocato would do it for him. "Writing to you?"
"Yes. It arrived with the usual paperwork for my scholarship. She asked me to check on the two students who got the Equatorial Returns Scholarship this year."
"Two? What happened to last year?"
"Last year's recipient fractured her leg in a thimbles match. By the time she was fully healed, it was past the cutoff date for starting classes, so the scholarship committee and the crown prince and princess decided to send two students this year, and let her keep the scholarship."
"My cousin is very generous in that respect. Where are they from? Do you know?" asked Avocato, still scanning the letter. A secretary had typed it, but Apricot had signed it, and it bore her seal.
"This year is from Korokoro by Lake Banaar. Last year is from Vel Igel on the Tobel River."
"Which tells me . . . mmm, nothing, but good to know, I suppose."
"Farming, hunting, fishing." He shrugged. "Same as Vel Pitten. Korokoro is at a slightly higher elevation, so the trees and birds are probably a bit different, but not much else."
"This is excellent," said Avocato, who appreciated what a coup this letter represented. Being remembered so well by the crown and being asked a favor by the next queen was something of a triumph, and he was determined to see Nikos exploit it fully. "What you need to do, my friend, is send her regular reports. Say, every other month. Let her and my cousin know how their protégés are doing and what they've accomplished. Bonus points if you can get them to send notes of thanks. Keep your name in her thoughts."
"You think? Is that too . . . forward?"
"Nikos!" Avocato whapped him atop the head with the folded letter. "Princess Apricot has, with her own hand, asked you for help. You cannot refuse a request from a lady. Especially this one."