Chapter 5: Training

Chapter 5
Training
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“You call that running fast, Bampot,” cried Donovan as he outraced Kieran on the sandy covered track. “You are just not top caliber material. I don’t care what Fergus says or feels about you. I see nothing special about you. You shouldn’t be in the Aongus Cathal program, or in CuChulainn House, or maybe even in the Ardal Cathal program. I’m not sure that you even belong here at Samhain.”

It wasn’t that Donovan merely beat Kieran in a footrace, which Kieran couldn’t believe since he was the fastest runner in his school at home, but that he beat him by several lengths, and he didn’t even appear to be giving it his all. Even with a hot sun beating down on them Talbot had not even broken a sweat. After five full days of criticism and being told that he was slower than expected and weaker than expected, and that he had poor instincts and inadequate agility, Kieran was feeling the overwhelming effects of demoralization. His body felt tired in the morning when he woke up and continued to feel tired all day. And he had another day’s worth of torture tomorrow with only Sunday as a day off. At Cape Elizabeth he was considered a great athlete, maybe one of the top high school athletes in the state, but now he was considered slow, weak, and incompetent. It was a lot to get used to for him. His emotions, as well as his mind, had trouble accepting that he was not even average.

“You have grown up allowing your muscles to do just enough as they needed to do in order for you to get by. Most humans can use only 20-25 percent of their muscles abilities because their bodies couldn’t take using higher without the muscles and body ripping itself apart. The brain regulates the muscles usage to make sure there is no damage, but we are not normal. An Ardal Cathal can use fifty, even sixty percent of their muscles capabilities without stress on the body, and an Aongus Cathal can use sixty to seventy percent of their muscles capabilities without stress to the body. Do you know that a Tiarnan can use up to ninety percent of their body’s muscle capabilities without stress? Your muscles have accepted using 20 percent which is foolishness. Our physiological systems are such that we even live longer than normal humans. It is your inherent laziness combined with the limitations you have imposed on yourself, which hold you back. Didn’t you ever feel that you could run even faster if you wanted?”

“No, not really,” said Kieran in a gasping voice.

“Your muscles and you are lazy to the point of making you weak. Your muscles have never truly been pushed to their limit, have never felt what it feels like to work at peak condition with your mind not thinking about obstacles or limitations, but working freely and at their fullest. You have never broken through your muscle’s barriers. And worst of all, you also think too highly of yourself, so that you are unable to see that you can break through your muscles barriers,” Donovan lectured to him.

“I…uh…uh…I don’t think highly,” he inhaled some air trying to get as much oxygen to his lungs as he could, “of myself right now.”

“Yes, you do. And you don’t deserve to think that highly of yourself. Follow me,” he said disdainfully then walked towards the obstacle course.

Kieran lifted his head, which he had been trying to place between his knees. His whole body ached from work and creaked from tiredness. At dinner last night he didn’t even have the energy to talk to Liam, who rambled on and on about his lessons with Sian Boru. But all he could do was eat his Shepard’s pie, drink his pomegranate wine then crawl off to Cuchulainn House and his bed to sleep knowing full well that he’d have to get up at six in the morning for more of Talbot’s torture.

Maybe he might have thought of himself as something special just a few days ago, but now he felt as if he was third rate, not even second rate, a has been before he even turned 18. Donovan was headed back to the obstacle course that had destroyed his body all day yesterday. At his top speed he could perform this obstacle course in no less than twenty minutes, which made Donovan scowl and shake his head. He told Kieran that an average Aongus Cathal could perform this obstacle course in fourteen minutes flat, an Ardal Cathal in fifteen minutes, and the best do it in ten minutes, someone once even did it under nine minutes, then he proceeded to question why Mallory had enrolled Kieran in the Aongus Cathal program. It must be because of your father, Talbot decided.

Kieran couldn’t believe that anyone could do that obstacle course in that amount of time. It was just too formidable, too difficult, even for an Olympic athlete. First you had to run 300 yards then jump over a water pit that was twelve feet in length. Next up he had to pick up a large round stone which weighed somewhere between 250 and 300 pounds, carry it nine feet, not roll it, to a six foot marble stand and place it on top of the stand then return and to that to another stone. After that you had to run at full speed through what appeared to be a jungle gym made of thorn branches where you had to duck, jump, and step aside the branches or had the thorn rip your skin. His arms and face today were covered in bandages as a reminder of just how hard it was to get through the jungle gym without a scratch. Next up you had to climb up a slippery rope as fast as you could until you got to the top of a tower that Kieran estimated as four stories high then cross of rope to the other tower than climb down.

Donovan told him to run as fast he could across the rope between the towers, to trust his skills and his balance and to run instead of walking across at such a slow pace, but Kieran was afraid of falling to his death and told him this. Donovan Talbot merely laughed and said that fall wouldn’t kill a real Aongus Cathal. Was he that weak, Talbot asked him in a voice filled with scorn. This made Kieran start to believe that Talbot was insane. How could he fall four stories from a rope and not be killed? Even if he had his father’s bloodline, he was still human. Maybe everyone on this island was insane, he considered.

After the towers he had to run 400 yards to a pit which was half a football field long where you could only cross by running across pole tops that were no more than six inches wide. If you slipped, you fell hard on either onto one of the poles or in the pit which had a layer of sharp stones laid on its bottom. Once past the pit you had a long run to your final obstacle, a series of hoops set at varying heights, some which were at least eight feet, which you had to dive through, roll and dive through the next hoop until you got to fifteen foot wall that you had to get over without a rope or any other help, then ended with a long mile long sprint around the outside of the course.

On top of all this Kieran had to put up with Donovan yelling at him and using slang, like wean, bampot, nappies, and prat, which he had no idea what they meant. He had thought two a day football practices were difficult, but this was torturous and he was sure he’d never be able to do a single one of these tasks up to the level that Talbot thought they should be performed. Yet, he also was bothered by the fact that his father had performed these tasks once upon a time better than him. His father had not alone performed them, but had done them so well he had become a Tiarnan. Kieran didn’t like to think that his father was better at something than him.

“Donovan,” the familiar voice and accent of Father Mueller cried out.

Donovan Talbot stopped walking towards the obstacle course and turned to see the pudgy priest walking towards them. He waved at them in a friendly way with his right hand and carried what appeared to be a picnic basket in his left hand. Kieran stopped, also, and again lowered his head between his knees. He had been at this for strenuous, gut churning hours and needed a rest. Father Mueller finally caught up with them.

“Donovan, I vish to talk to Kieran for a little vhile,” Mueller said calmly.

“Of course, Father, I’ll be glad to let you have him for as long as you need him. It doesn’t seem like I am getting through to him,” Donovan responded.

“I thought ve could have lunch,” Mueller said in his thick German accent to Kieran. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m not sure,” Kieran answered honestly.

“Vell, we shall see. Follow me,” Mueller told him then started walking towards an area of shade provided by a grouping of trees. Kieran gladly followed him relishing the chance to get away from Talbot.

Father Mueller sat down with his back up against a tree with rough bark. While he unpacked his picnic basket, Kieran dropped down on the grass in front of him in what could be described as a sloppy attempt at the lotus position. Placing down a small cloth, Father Mueller placed two apples, two wrapped sandwiches, two brown bottles of something to drink, and two small sweet cakes down on the cloth.

“Zo I take it dat you are having a difficult time mit Donovan,” Mueller gently stated.

“Uh huh,” was Kieran answer as he picked up an apple and took a bite. It was sweet, chilled, and juicy. After several hours of running through Talbot’s paces, he was more hungry than he thought. His stomach began to make a low grumbling noise.

“Ahh, you are hungry after all,” Mueller commented sounding pleased with himself.

“I guess so, sir,” replied Kieran.

“Call me Vater Michael or just plain Vater, or even maol, if you wish, though I prefer Vater. It reminds me that I am in accord with the Holy See in my duties here.”

“Okay, Father.”

“Zo, difficult vork, huh, this becoming an Aongus Cathal, becoming a warrior of the Bene Lumen est very hard,” Father Mueller asked taking a bite of his apple.

“I don’t think I can handle it, Father. It’s too hard for me. I’m not good enough to do this stuff like he wants,” admitted Kieran sounding truly depressed.

“Really,” Father Mueller said with amusement then handed him one of the wrapped sandwiches. Kieran unwrapped it. It was a roast beef and spicy mustard on freshly backed bread. He took a big bite of the sandwich and started chewing it. Father Mueller then handed him one of the brown root beer bottles.

“It is real root beer brewed by our school’s brewery from the best and freshest ingredients,” Mueller told him.

Kieran twisted off the cap of the bottle and took a long drink of the root beer. It was sweet, cold, and invigorating, nothing like any root beer he had ever drunk in his life. This root beer actually seemed to give him energy, not from too much sugar, but from something natural and good for you.

“Have you ever vorked zo hard before in your whole life,” Father Mueller asked him.

Kieran thought about it. Working out for football, getting in shape, he worked hard, but not that hard, not so hard that he felt empty at the end of the day. He ran and lifted weights. And during two a days and regular football practice he worked hard, but never this hard. He had never done this much work over a five day period, or pushed himself this hard or this far and not accomplished what he wanted to accomplish.

“No, Father.”

“Yet, you are able to handle it. Donovan throws everything at you, but you handle it. All tings considered dat est impressive for someone who vas never trained to do dis. I think if one of your teammates vas here, they vould not be able to even stand up right now I think,” he pointed out to Kieran.

Kieran thought about it. Could Tommy Foley spend four straight hours getting his hump busted by Talbot, who was worse than any coach he had ever met, or could Clyde Simmons do it? No, they probably couldn’t do it. But Kieran had been able to do it so far.

“No, probably not, Father,” he answered.

“You are stronger than you realize, Kieran, much stronger than you realize. You are more capable than you know and you must learn to trust that you are more capable than you think,” Mueller told him.

“But, Father, I don’t think I will ever be able to do as well as Talbot tells me I should be doing,” Kieran said honestly.

“Dat est Mr. Talbot, Kieran. He est your tutor.”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Talbot,” Kieran repeated.

“Mr. Talbot expects much from you because he understands vat it est vat you must do. Shall I tell you something about, Mr. Talbot,” asked Mueller.

Kieran took another bite from his sandwich. It tasted good. His stomach appreciated the fact he was feeding it. He nodded in the affirmative.

“Vell, Donovan Talbot vas a highly thought of Aongus Cathal student. Many thought he vould become a Tiarnan, even he thought dat. Master Diaghilev pushed and pushed him, pushing him to break your vater’s own records in the obstacle course…”

“My father has the obstacle course record,” Kieran interrupted the priest sounding as if he couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, he set it. I believe the time is 9 minutes und 19 seconds.”

“But… but… that is impossible. I’m doing it in 20 minutes and 3 seconds.”

“Est your vater so much better than you, Kieran,” asked Father Mueller.

“I… no, he isn’t better than me,” answered Kieran not wanting to admit to himself or anyone else that his father was better than him at anything.

“No, he est not. Now back to Donovan Talbot. Mr. Talbot, never broke your vater’s record, but he came close and vas vell respected. Vhen it came time for the Tiarnan test, which est very difficult and dangerous, though, he failed. No one could believe it. He could not believe it. He failed because he did not believe in himself as much as he thought he did. Because of his failure Mr. Talbot thought he vas less of a man than he truly vas. He lost faith in himself and vhen dat happens you are never able to be as goot as you should be. Losing faith in yourself stops you from fulfilling your true potential. Don’t let your inability to do as Mr. Talbot says make you lose faith in yourself, Kieran. Trust that you have great potential to fulfill and let things take their course,” Mueller told him.

“You know, Father, I’m not sure that you aren’t a motivational advisor instead of a spiritual advisor,” Kieran said as he started to feel slightly better about himself because of what Father Mueller said.

“Well, Kieran, the spirit occasionally needs to be motivated, as well as moved,” he said with a sly smile. “Now let’s enjoy our lunch and forget about our troubles.”

“Father, can I ask you something?”

“Surely.”

“What is a bampot,” he asked wanting to know the meaning of the word which he couldn’t even guess at because it was so unfamiliar to him.

“A bampot,” Father Mueller repeated. “I gather you are having trouble with some of the slang you hear coming out of Mr. Talbot’s mouth.”

“Yes, I am. I won’t ask him what it means because… well, just because, but I’d love to know.”

“Well, a bampot est a person who is clumsy or an idiot, or a clumsy idiot. I believe it is a Scottish slang. Has Mr. Talbot called you a bampot?”

“No,” answered Kieran not wanting Mueller to tell Talbot to take it easy on him.

“Of course he has. He est the type dat would call students dat because he expects zo much from them. You know vhy he calls you dat?”

“Because he has low self worth,” Kieran answered.

“No, because you are probably a bampot on the obstacle course. Twenty minutes, Kieran, Gott in hiemel,” he said then started to laugh. For a split second Kieran felt insulted then he realized Mueller was right. He was a bambot on the obstacle course and he joined Father Mueller and laughed. Although he didn’t want to be here, he was damned if he remained a bampot in Talbot’s opinion.

In the small forest Sian Boru and Liam strolled along with their eyes such allowing nature to guide them, to warn them of problems, to stop them from hurting themselves. She told Liam that by doing this exercise he should trusting in nature and nature would return that trust. Coming to a stop by the sound of a small pond, she opened her eyes. Liam continued to walk until he was beside her then he stopped and opened his eyes.

“Tell me what you just felt,” she ordered.

“I…I…it’s almost impossible to describe. I felt as if nature was talking to me but it wasn’t in any language I’ve ever heard, or one that even exists. It’s a language without words but with feelings instead. I mean I was going to step in a hole and suddenly I knew not to put my foot down in that spot, so I didn’t. Then I felt around in front of me with my left foot and I felt the rabbit hole that I was going to step it. I knew it was there because nature told me,” Liam explained.

“Excellent,” she said with a smile. “In less than a week you have already met nature and offered it your trust and it has accepted your trust. That is wonderful, Liam. It usually takes a potential, conjurer weeks upon weeks to get to this point. Nature trusts you.”

“Really, Ma’am,” he asked.

“Really. I am afraid that I have made your first few weeks of school into a bore for you, though. When classes begin you will already be ahead of your housemates and classmates, and I expect that my tutoring will keep you ahead of them the whole year. But my job is not to make life easy for you, but to get you to fulfill your potential. How did you enjoy this exercise?”

“It was wonderful,” said Liam, “I never realized how much nature had to offer. Yes, it is beautiful and scary, but I never realized it offered more.”

“Of course you didn’t, you lived in the modern world. You lived in a world that believes science’s job is to decipher nature, to understand it, and surpass it. Your scientists want to raise themselves above nature. God, or the Gods if you are druid, have given us nature to learn from and to partner with. Scientists do not look to partner with nature, to befriend it.”

“What does nature have to teach us besides partnering with it?”

“Liam, nature holds cures to illnesses, solutions to problems such as poverty and good health, but you cannot take those cures and solutions from nature and expect nature to respect you and offer you more. No, you must ask nature for its help and be surprised at what it offers you in return. Besides asking for the wind to stop, did you know that I can ask for a lightening bolt to strike someone or something? Or that I can ask a tree or a patch of grass to grab an animal or person for me and hold them? Nature’s powers are great.”

“Really, you can do that,” he said in surprise knowing seeing what a conjurer could do if probably trained and in communion with nature.

“Yes, really. I have asked flood waters to not take a town; I have asked the sky to rain when people needed it; I have asked nature for a cure to insomnia and it has offered me a plant or an herb to take; and I have asked nature to protect someone I loved who was in trouble and it did.”

“How did you protect this person,” asked Liam not in a voice that told her he would not be denied.

Thinking of his mother and how she died at the hands of Baal, he wanted to know all the ways to protect those he loved. Sian Boru looked as if she was considering how much he should be told about this person and what she did. It had been many years ago and that someone she loved, and still loves, didn’t know just how much she loved him.

“All right I will tell you, but this is a secret between student and teacher and in druid tradition that is a bond not to be taken lightly. A druid priestess and their private students are bonded together, they become family and family never betrays each other. Do you believe that, Liam?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I won’t tell anyone any secret you share with me,” Liam said.

“Good. Werecreatures, such as a werewolf or weredog, can be very dangerous to deal with for conjurer. Since we trust nature and nature trusts us, our instincts tell us that we can deal with these human animals by reaching out to their animal half, their natural half. I have many times asked a wolf for directions when I was lost and it has supplied me with them, but these creatures are abominations of nature, not nature. These creatures are unnatural, not natural. We classify them as abominations. A weretiger, one of the most powerful and dangerous of these werecreatures, attacked me and this man while we were seeking a high priest in India. This weretiger took us by surprise because at the same time we were attacked by the weretiger, we were attacked by a real Bengal tiger.”

“Couldn’t you communicate with the real tiger and stop it from attacking you,” asked Liam.

“No, unfortunately, I couldn’t stop it. It was under the power and influence of this weretiger. The man I loved saw that I was unable to communicate with the tiger so he broke off his battle with the weretiger and tackled the tiger as it leapt for me. Taking advantage of this the weretiger was about to attack the man. I could not let this happen because he saved my life and I loved him. I had to stop the weretiger, even if only for a few seconds to let …. this man got his feet under him, so I reached out with my powers and joined with the tiger part of this half man half tiger. It was a foolish thing to do since such an abomination has a willpower that conjurers are unable to influence, yet I did it. It was horrible. I felt its fury, its bloodlust, its hate, and its evil nature. I was almost overwhelmed by these feelings, these truly unnatural feelings. But it stopped its attack because of me… my presence trying to reach out to its animal half caused it pain, made its hatred grow even greater towards me than towards the man. I gave this man just enough time to kill the tiger, an unfortunate act, then he pulled this weretiger off of me right before it ripped open my jugular and drove a blessed saber right through its heart.”

“Did the weretiger bite you,” Liam asked.

“Yes, it did,” she answered with a smile impressed that Liam thought of the importance of the bite.

“Didn’t that make you a weretiger?”

“If treated within three days, a werecreatures bite can be counteracted, though certain effects are left behind. Yes, the bite polluted my blood, but, luckily, the priest we were seeking was a powerful charmer. He was able to brew a potion of herbs and plants to remove the beast’s pollution from my blood. The effects that are left behind, though, I have learned to deal with,” she told him. “To protect someone I love I am willing to die, Liam. This is something you must know because as one of my special students and son of my dearest friend Siobhan, you are someone I love.”

Liam was touched by this. He never had a woman in his life, who had said that to him; never had a woman who acted as a motherly substitute for his own deceased mother. There was a void of female caring and understanding that he had grown up without. No soft arms cuddled him to sleep when he was upset or rocked him to sleep when he woke up in the middle of the night feeling deserted. His father tried to fill that need, but he never really felt that comfortable with emotions or empathizing. He specialized in fixing booboos and problems and lecturing his sons on how to overcome an obstacle.

Sian Boru, the mighty and aloof druid priestess, loved him, though. She told him so, told him that they were bonded as druid priestess and special student, and as the son of her close friend. He wasn’t sure how to react to this, other than to give her a hug. Stepping close to her, Liam put his arms around her waste, drew himself close and hugged her. Sian Boru hesitated for only a moment but then she returned his hug. Strongly and warmly, she returned his hug. They stepped apart.
“Thank you,” Liam said softly.

“You’re welcome, Liam,” she replied. “Now let’s return to your trust exercises with nature. You show a true empathy, but that is not enough. You must trust nature enough to join with it. Next week I hope to teach you how to start communicating with nature, so that you can request something and nature will answer you. You see nature is always speaking to us, but few of us can understand its language.”

“Ma’am, what happens when you force nature to do something it doesn’t want to do,” he asked.

Sian Boru looked into the eyes of Liam for a moment. He thought she was searching for something in his eyes, a clue to his thoughts or maybe insight into his soul, then, suddenly, she patted him gently on his left cheek.

“Liam, if one of us decided to force nature, to manipulate it, then we would be opening ourselves to true evil. We posses the power to force nature to bend to our ways, Liam, but if we chose to do that, if we chose to use those powers wrongly, then we cease becoming nature’s partner. When we cease becoming a partner, we become a master. That is wrong. Only God, or the Gods, depending upon your beliefs, can hold dominion over nature. To attempt to become God leads to evil because God is the supreme power. Liam, you should never want to posses the power of God because we cannot handle that much power. Look at humanity we become corrupt with less power.”

“Ma’am, have there been Bene Lumen who have become corrupt,” Liam asked.

“I am afraid there have been,” she answered.

“But have there been Illuminatii who have turned away from evil,” he asked.

“Liam, none of my special students have ever asked me that question before,” she stated then took a moment for some introspection. She thought about the question for a these moments as Liam quietly stared at her. “There was one that we know about, a vampire, but only the Council of Guaire, Mallory, and very few others know all about him. He is unique. He is the exception to the rule.”

“I’d like to meet him,” Liam said.

“You have a lot to learn before you do that,” Sian stated.



From the outside the building looked as if a giant black marble had been cut into two pieces and one semi-circle piece was placed by a beautiful lake and it had a doorway craved into it. On the inside this black marble mausoleum was where the body of Arthur laid. Brian CuCullen stood quietly in front of Arthur’s white marble tomb which had but one single Celtic word craved on it: Ualgarg. An Ualgarg was a famous and fierce warrior. It was a succinct, though incomplete, description of the man who laid in that tomb. On one side of the tomb in the black mausoleum stood a statue of Merlin, not unlike the one that stood in Mallory’s hallway. Like in life Merlin stood beside and watched over his favorite student. On the other side Excalibur stood stuck in a boulder that had been rolled into the tomb. There it was to stay, unused and trapped by the stone, until removed by another Arthur, another great hero and Tiarnan.

Standing at Arthur’s tomb, his Druid Dolmen, in prayer was a pilgrimage all Tiarnan, Aongus Cathal, and Ardal Cathal took when they came to Avalon. It was more than a sign of respect, it was a request for strength. When he first arrived back on Avalon, Brian CuCullen fought tradition eschewing a trip to the tomb of Arthur. Deep down he felt as if he wasn’t worthy of being in Arthur’s tomb, in the tomb of a man who had given his life standing up to evil and following the code of the Tiarnan. The code of the Tiarnan was a simple one: Never surrender to evil, never retreat from evil, and never succumb to evil. He had retreated.

The Lady of the Lake Una Boru, the eldest of the six Boru sisters, had convinced him, though, that Arthur deserved his respect more than he deserved to feel self loathing or self pity. So Brian CuCullen found himself doing his duty, paying his respect, and standing in front of the Arthur’s tomb. He felt a slight shiver go down his spine. Because the mausoleum was made of black marble, it always felt a bit chilly inside of it. Another shiver went down his spine. But this one wasn’t because of cold, it was because someone was watching him.

“CuCullen, are you done gathering hay,” asked Master Mifune in his Japanese accent that was now slightly changed by years of living on Avalon.

Master Mifune was a mystical samurai who lived on Avalon as one of its protectors. His skills and powers as a warrior were respected by all who knew of them and him. Over thirty years ago he refused an opportunity to become a Tiarnan in order to live on Avalon as a protector. Today his task was to sharpen the skills of Brian CuCullen.

“I am done here, Master Mifune,” replied Brian and turned to face the aging, but not old samurai, who was dressed in red as a protector of Avalon.

“Good. We may begin our work,” he said with his strong lined faced looking Brian up and down then he turned and left the mausoleum with Brian following him.

Out of the mausoleum the sun shone brightly and warmed the earth. Not too far from the black marble Dolmen to a fallen warrior was a clearing by the edge of the lake. In the background Brian CuCullen could see a view of the forests and mountains of the Cumbria area, since Avalon was now located on the waters of Windermere Lake. When Arthur fell Avalon relocated from its original spot near Glastonbury. Mifune pulled his katana, his samurai sword, from its sheath and took a warrior’s attitude. He waited for Brian to attack him, as he wanted to find out how much work they needed to do to get him back into form.

Brian CuCullen wore his specially made hybrid sword in its sheath across his back. The sword was forged and designed by Francis Timlin, whose family had made weapons for Tiarnan for eight generations. Its blade was a cross between several different styles and blessed by four maols. The hilt was a lightweight version of a broadsword, the blade combined the sharpness, weight and strength of a katana with the metal of Calibur metal. The secret of Calibur was known to few. Of course, few knew that Calibur metal was only found on Avalon, yet most everyone knew the name of one famous sword that was made completely from Calibur: Excalibur.

Instead of immediately taking a warrior’s attitude, Brian pulled his sword from its sheath and twirled it about testing its weight and balance in a series of elaborate and showy swordsmanship. Once he was satisfied he stopped these flourishes and took his attitude, which was a unique combination of many fighting styles.

“I see you still are a bit of a showoff,” stated Mifune in a voice that let him know that he was not impressed.

“Master Mifune, it is more of a habit than showing off when I wield my blade.”

“What is the difference?”

“A habit can be broken, but showing off is a weakness that can be exploited,” he answered.

“I hope that is true and it is only a habit then,” said Master Mifune.

The two men charged each other and exchanged seven blows and passes, then they backed away from each other. Mifune raised his katana almost above his head and charged Cucullen, who took this opportunity not to charge but to do a forward roll in the grass passing just under Mifune’s blade and coming up behind him. Once standing he slashed at Mifune who parried his blade without even turning around. Then Mifune turned and took a defensive attitude.

“That was a habit I take it,” he asked derisively as if to tell Brian that he expected that move.

“So I am predictable in my movements and actions to you,” Brian said.

“You have fallen back on that which worked for you in the past. You must be constantly evolving as a warrior. You must never be satisfied with your skill.”

“Thank you for the lesson,” Brian CuCullen said with a hint of anger in each vowel. Even though he was rusty, he hated being lectured by the old samurai. Yes, Mifune was a master swordsman, but he was one also. Or, at least, he used to be one.

“You are welcome, Tiarnan,” he said.

“Am I that rusty,” asked Brian.

“Not so much rust, though, you have forgotten that your sword is part of you, an extension of you. It is not merely a weapon to use; it is part of your soul, part of your body. You need to regain respect for your weapon and for your self.”

The words were true. Again the two men clashed with their blades exchanging slashes, blocks, and parries until they once again backed off of each other. Brian CuCullen was breathing heavily, winded from their exchange. Mifune did not seem to be winded or tiring, though. He stood with his katana now resting at his side but slightly away from his body.

“Difficult work,” asked Mifune gruffly.

“Tiring work for someone who hasn’t trained in many years like myself,” Brian replied.

“I think you have forgotten that surprise is the greatest weapon a great warrior can have. Surprise is the one thing an opponent cannot study or train for,” Mifune stated.

With his left hand Mifune quickly grabbed his wakizashi, his small blade, from its place on his belt and threw it gracefully and fluidly at Brian CuCullen. The blade flew quick and true and it was only because of the quick reflexes that CuCullen blocked the wakizashi sending it off towards some trees that were some distance away. Coming up quickly to take advantage of CuCullen being out of position Mifune slashed his katana at Brian, who barely got out of the way of the samurai’s blade.

Brian CuCullen’s maroon robe now had a long rip in it from Mifune’s blade. In a desperate move Brian did a backwards roll then bolted to his feet and coming up in a defensive attitude. Mifune closed in on him and began to strike vigorously at CuCullen, who blocked each and every blow. Brian could tell that each stroke of Mifune’s blade was not meant to exercise him but to draw blood. The old master was intent on teaching the Tiarnan a painful lesson.

After one hour and thirty-five minutes of nonstop, arm tiring, graceful blade work, Mifune finally backed off. Brian felt his lungs burning as if he had just run a very long race at top speed and his concentration had been tasked to its limit. It had been a long time since he had exerted himself to this level. Even Mifune appeared to be slightly winded after this difficult exchange.

“You are still a talented opponent, CuCullen, and I believe you will be able to return to form. I am satisfied with your work here today,” Mifune stated nodding his head as if he agreed to his own statement.

“Thank you,” said Brian trying to take in breathe without seeming to need to do it.

“I would say that three weeks of training under me and you will be able to return to your duties as a Tiarnan, and you may even be a better swordsman then you were before,” Mifune stated then elegantly placed his katana back in its sheath and straightened his kimono.

He strode forward his sword hand extended. Brian sheathed his own blade and took his hand and shook it. After the two men stopped shaking hands, Mifune gave Brian a gentle hug.

“After we retrieve my wakizashi, I have some honey wine, freshly made rice, vegetables, and fish waiting for us. We can eat, regain our calm and energy, and talk,” Mifune said.

“Sounds tempting.”

“You have been here two days, did you think that you could avoid me forever, Tiarnan,” asked Mifune.

“Not avoid you, but to put you off until I was ready to face you. I am aware how unprepared I am to resume my duties. And I know that it is your duty to prepare for the resumption of those duties. My apprehension is based on my inadequacy.”

“Good answer and that is a good start for now,” he said as the two men walked towards the trees. “In three weeks you will have worked harder than you have been worked in ten years. I will once again make you the best Tiarnan among the seven, one of the most talented Tiarnan of many generations, and then I expect you to remain the best for many, many years, though not as many as Fergus.”

“I was never the best Tiarnan,” Brian said.

“You were the best in many, many generations, Brian. You were a great warrior, an ualgarg equal to Takeda Shingen, or even King Arthur. If you had not left your duties, you would have been worthy of a tomb such as Arthur’s or Takeda’s. But there is still time for that. You have many years left in you to prove yourself as great as them.”

“Your compliment is unnecessary.”

“No,” Mifune said, “I tell you the truth. But they would never have deserted their duties like you did, Brian CuCullen. They would never have allowed love to make them weak. Love is best when it makes us stronger. You were selfish, Brian CuCullen, over Siobhan’s death. She was loved by many, she made many of us stronger from having known her.”

Brian CuCullen didn’t say a word in protest because Master Mifune was correct. He had allowed his love for Siobhan to make him weak instead of strong. And now he had to make up for that mistake.

“Love definitely has made you stronger, Master Mifune. Una Boru is almost as beautiful as her younger sister Sian, though not quite,” Brian noted letting the master know that he had seen the way he looked at the Lady of the Lake.

Out of the corner of his eye, Brian noticed that Master Mifune’s cheeks had slightly blushed. For most people it would have been almost unnoticeable, but a slight blush on the old master was as noticeable as fireworks on a clear night. Mifune’s love for the Lady of the Lake was a secret which everyone knew about. Because of her exalted position, though, she could never take a husband. This meant Mifune was forever an ardent and loyal protector but also an unrequited lover who was forever faithful and loyal. He turned and looked at Cucullen.

“You notice much, maybe too much, my friend. But that is what made you a great Tiarnan. You must find love again. You are too young to be without it. And love can keep you young and strong,” he commented.

“I’m not sure about that.”

“I am,” Mifune said with a bit of humor in his voice.

“How come I have the feeling that you are laughing at me somehow,” Brian commented.

“I could have been a Tiarnan. I also notice things that others do not notice.”

“Like what?”

“Like there is a woman around who still loves you after all these years, a woman who has never stopped loving you, and a woman that you may still love, if you didn’t feel such guilt over your wife’s death,” he said.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, and I don’t want to know. Let’s keep guess work to ourselves for now,” Brian said with his cheeks turning slightly red.
“If you say so, Tiarnan. But I think you know who I am talking about.”

They continued walking towards the tree to look for the samurai’s smaller blade. Was love still possible, Brian CuCullen asked himself, or did he even want to find out?