Chapter 36 - the Foundling II
Shan was going about another ordinary day. Well not exactly ordinary by his lifetime standards of it. During a normal week, he would be at the Garden from open to close from MoonDay through FreyDay. That had ceased. He had been helping the instructors more and more lately, and it seemed his main gardening was nearing an end.
He would always be gardening himself his whole life, his mother assured him. But, this early phase of it was winding down. It would eventually end. When it ended completely? He would be gardening himself on his own from then on out. That seemed exciting to him. He could study any subject he could find wisdom on, or a person to instruct him, that took his fancy.
Mother also told him that he had been given a great gift. It was his responsibility the rest of his life to pass on as much as he could. If he had idle time, he was to spend it instructing at a garden anywhere, if only for one day a week… or even only for lunches. Just as the tavern-master's daughter instructed music on her lunch time.
Mother was very clear on one matter, however. If he were ever fortunate enough to have any real coin and land, enough that he felt he was wealthy and fortunate? He was definitely expected to do what his own Mother and Father had done… build a small building, and instruct by himself at first if he had to, until he could locate one or more others to aid him in the instruction of others.
He knew they were really his aunt and uncle, but to Shan they were his mother and father. Had no one told him, he would not notice any difference. A lot of other families, did not share his own family's sense of sharing the responsibility of raising children. A man was interested in his own children, and not other's. That seemed to be the normal custom around these lands.
Mother had smiled and explained that where she was from, almost everyone helped take care of all the children. At some times of the year, packs of children that were friends would stay in groups at each other's houses. If your father died, many other fathers around you would smile and be friendly, and take some interest in you. It would not take long for one of the fathers to become your guardian. Then, that family would treat you as if you were their own child.
Mother explained that many lands viewed children as little more than free labor, so that a larger farm could be worked and more profit made. Daughters were thought less useful, and they sought to marry them off as quickly as possible. Daughters were a slight burden. People actually argued and sometimes came to blows over bride prices. A man had to pay the father what the father wanted for his permission to marry his daughter. Basically, the prettier the girl… the higher her cost.
Mother explained it was but a couple out of many customs that were not her and father's customs. Shan was to follow her and father's customs, not others. As mother had pointed out… would Shan have preferred to sleep in the barn and eat table scraps with the dogs? Because in many lands, that was the custom when you were forced to take in a foundling. You fed them, you got work out of them, and you got rid of them as soon as you possibly could by declaring them an adult.
Mother always had taken great pains to explain to Shan, that such was complete nonsense. That it was the exact reason many lands were less civilized and more barbaric. As Mother always declared, how could the simplest of farmers not understand what to do with a crop.
The children were the crop. The next season's fruit. They had to at least be as smart and as capable and as healthy as both parents, and preferably better if only in some small way. That was where progress came from, and over time it bore the best fruits. The best crops.
Selling a daughter into marriage, for money, was the exact wrong thing to do. A man having a lot of gold and titles was no indication of his qualities. It was a matter of his birth and nothing else. What if he was fat and lazy and all but a dimwitted fool? What would become of the children they produced.
Then… the landed and titled noble that had bought the pretty daughter for a wife, simply produced fat and lazy children. Who went on to be the next crop of nobles. Which was exactly where turds in the pickle barrel came from, mother claimed. Poor breeding, no or bad gardening, and following poor examples with worse examples.
In such a fashion, absolutely no progress was ever made. To make progress over time was easy. Your daughter was to marry a man with wits, tall and strong, healthy, good character. This man's children would tend to be that way as well. The same went for the sons, they were to look for a smart, tall, healthy athletic woman to marry. Again, for the better children produced.
Mother could not fathom, how farmers didn't understand this basic concept. It was not as if the farmers just threw random seeds around the field. Whatever sprouted wherever, was what happened. Any plant that just happened to cross with another plant? No big deal.
Oh no, even the lowliest of farmers knew how to do it right. You saved only the very best seeds, from the few best plants. Those were the seeds you planted next year. Your crops were better year after year. You wanted taller wheat, stronger stalks on the wheat, wheat healthier and better able to withstand a short drought or any plant sickness that came around.
How could they not see they were taking more care with their wheat, than they were with their own children, who were going to lead the whole land in the next generation.
Mother had instructed him, and it made perfect sense.
'If you want winter wheat? Then plant winter wheat.'
Because, simply everyone knew what happened if you planted mixed wheat varieties. You had a field of nonsense. The plants cross pollinated each other and almost all of the resulting seeds next year? Looked like little more than wild grasses.
Fathers desired tall and strong sons with wits. Yet, they married short and pretty women, that were not known for their wits in many cases. How exactly were they expecting tall, strong, smart sons then? Even if they got lucky and had a tall strong son more or less on accident… how was a short and frail woman, with no wits and no education supposed to instruct those sons and train them? They simply couldn't.
That was the biggest crime, mother all but cried over it. Tall and strong men with wits, that had not been gardened properly. You had a chance to have a great onion plant, but instead? All you got was a wild onion.
These same people, the farmers. Took the utmost care selecting which horses to breed, which cows to breed, which pigs to breed. To get the best characteristics out of the next generation. If you desired taller, stronger, more aggressive horses? Those were the ones you bred! If you wanted thinner, faster, calmer, wiser horses? Then you selected for that!
'and yet these people wonder, why they are still little more than barbarians after all these generations.'
Mother said, it was entirely possible for a kingdom to actually go in reverse. To get worse with each generation. It only took one or two bad generations, then you were fucked for all time. Your people died out, were taken over, etc.
"Little brother… are you instructing the wheat then. Will you examine the wheat at the end of the week."
Gareen! He had stolen up behind him, because Shan was daydreaming. He teased him gently about it and reminded him that next time, he would easily know someone had been coming up behind him, if only he had chosen a better spot and direction to sit in.
Shan actually knew better, but he had not remembered to keep it in mind. Gareen just smiled, and said that was what childhood was for. To get those little mistakes out of the way now, when it was just a matter of fun to have it pointed out. Gareen gently reminded Shan, that a simple farmer with a pitchfork can easily kill the mightiest warrior if the mighty warrior is sitting with his back to the trail.
Gareen sat his bulk down next to Shan, and they turned to face the trail so they could easily see both directions if anyone was coming. The proper way.
"Well then Shan, what are we to do with all this new idle time, as your gardening is almost finished."
"Oh. I honestly had not thought about it much. I will certainly be more useful around our farm."
"Mother said to me… she has advised Father, that she thinks you are perhaps ready to be declared. Before you ask, I have no gossip from Father yet on the matter."
"Gareen. There is no idle gossip on your coming feast… tell me about that!"
"Pah. What is to tell? We will eat, we will drink. Father will have the men over. We will have all the great tables out for a feast. Mother and Father? Have even been bargaining on it."
"What would they bargain on?"
"You know that Father, when he was young, lived with the north-men. Above the corridor. Aye?"
"Aye! He lived and worked on top of the world!"
"The matter they were bargaining for… was Father wants to be entertained at the feast. As the other men will want entertainment. The men want to have a few goblets, and have sport with wagering."
"We will get to see real fighting?"
"Aye, but remember. It is fighting for sport. It is not a real fight. The men will not strike each other when a man is down and can not rise. During sport? Such is not honorable."
"Will Father be fighting for sport?"
Gareen smiled.
"I doubt. It is Father's own table. He sits at the head of his own table. Father will be entertained by the sport. As the other men will. Also, I overheard some other amusing gossip…"
"And what was that gossip?"
Gareen smiled again.
"We will have guests coming in. Perhaps many."
"The woodcutters, and the smiths, no doubt."
"Aye, them… perhaps some more…"
"There are others coming, as well?"
"Oh, aye. Men will be traveling. We will have a number of men father knows, from afar. They will stay with us for a time."
"Men from other lands in the kingdom ?!?!"
"Aye. Is there another kind of 'afar', then."
"Are any merchant big-men coming?"
Shan was still young enough to be excited to meet real Big-men, that wore their armor and weapons with them anywhere they traveled.
"I suppose some might be merchants, yet, the rumor is that we might even get to meet other stewards. You know that Father is the steward here."
"Aye. Father serves some Land Lord, who is always off on weighty matters for the North Star. Father often says that he does the work he does, so that the greater man he serves, has enough time to do as the high king requires of him."
"Aye, little brother. Do not we three brothers, shovel the pig shit… so Father can tend to his more important work, such being to oversee the woodcutters and the smiths, and other matters."
"We do."
"Now, let me examine your wits, little brother. Why is it so important that everything works as it does?"
"Well, you already observed that we shovel the pig shit, so that fath---"
"Nay, little brother. You are correct. Yet, I want you to flip the matter over. Start from the high king, and work it the other way. Down instead of up."
"Oh, all right. The high king, the North Star. He has the very wisdom of Odin himself, it is rumored. Yet, he is but a man. He can only do so much. The high king, is a rough and coarse fighting man. And so, the high king has a wise steward. A man of great reckoning. The steward can not possibly do all that the high king requires of him…"
"And so, the wise steward examines men. He appoints a man to each district of the kingdom. He is declared a 'lord', for the purposes of conducting weighty matters with men that run other lands, outside the kingdom. Each lord, then must have a high steward himself. The high steward, oversees the Meyers. Each Meyer, is the steward for a part of the lord's land."
"Now. Most importantly. Who does the High King himself serve?"
"The high king, I have heard it said… he declared that he serves the pickles. The pickles being the common men, throughout the whole of the kingdom."
"Good… and using the high king as the example that he sets… who then, does father truly serve?"
"Father says, in the end, he actually serves the pickles in his barrel he has been given to care for. Father says, a wise farmer actually serves his animals, and not the other way."
"And why is that?"
"Much easier when you do not have to deal with unruly animals. The animals follow you freely. Hoping for morsels. Why run after scared animals, then bargain with them constantly… when you can simply walk around, and perform less labor with ease."
"And… what of examples."
"The high king sets the example for everyone. He admits he is but a rough and coarse fighting man, and so he seeks the counsel of his wise high steward. Any man placed in charge should imitate his example."
"And what purpose does that serve?"
"The men serving that man, will follow his example. Which is the example the North Star sets out. This goes down the line. In the end, everyone should be following the example set by the high king, and his ways."
"Good. And so, when a man is in charge of anything. Whether he be in charge of a small farm for his father, or even a lord in charge of a whole district of villages… this man has the duty to set the example. It must be a proper example. Does not father himself set a good example for we three brothers to follow?"
"Aye."
"And you see how it works well. But, this is idle time now… tell me Peen, have you been giving any thought to girls?"
"Some. The other boys, the girls have more interest in them it seems, on account of them learning to fight. It seems to impress the girls."
"Does no girl show any interest in you, Shan?"
"Well… the girl that is my friend at the garden. The one I take lunch with at the tavern. She follows me everywhere."
"She attends the garden every day, as you did. How does she examine there?"
"She does quite well."
"I have heard, she does well in all the games. And the meadow tricks. A good dancer, as well."
"Oh, aye. She can run and swim with boys. She is tall and strong for a girl. Why, I even got made more sport of, on account of her playing touch stick a bit too rough with the boys, that were having too much sport with me. She got quite mad once, and threatened to sharpen her stick."
"She takes your part then, on no account for herself. That is more than I can say for most of those hairy little beasts that will not attend the garden regularly. The reason I bring this matter up, Shan, is the upcoming feast."
"What of it? And of her."
"Well… most of the men will have their women with them. Mother and Father were reckoning that you were old enough, we would invite her to accompany you, at the feast. Sit with you and such."
"Oh. That would be pleasant. Now that I am not at the garden hardly, I do miss my idle time with her. I think she would enjoy it as well. I swear, I believe her parents do not feed her well enough."
"You know, Shan… you are getting older. One day, you will have to choose a woman. Now, your little friend. She shows you great favor, even though the other girls do not. What if one day, you had coin and land, perhaps were good at fighting, and then many girls were suddenly impressed with you. Girls that before such, paid you no attention. Would those new girls, deserve your attention?"
Shan thought about it, but not for long.
"No, I suppose they would not."
"And, why not? Surely if such happened, would not many of them be considered prettier than your friend, by many others, perhaps."
"Others are free to reckon that as they may. Yet, I see the soil of the matter you bring up. If I did have a coin purse and some land… it would be but sweetbread attracting attention from new girls."
"Aye… the foundation of that matter, then, would be that she freely shows high quality, when there is no sweetbread to be had. No morsel. No reward. In fact, by favoring you as she does, she invites sport from the others for it, does she not?"
"Yes. She does…"
"And, by your own reckoning of the matter… do you not find her pretty enough for yourself? Enjoy her idle time to no end."
Shan thought about it.
"Aye. Keen point you make, Gareen. The Gentle People at the garden, instruct that the high king's example, was to show his best favor first to those that risked their very lives, and all they had, to help him start forging the kingdom. Because once he became petty king, and then finally the high king, he had no better way to account it."
"Aye. My keen point, as you said. Are we not all supposed to follow the example set by the North Star himself?"
"Aye."
"Well then, we had better invite her."
"A fine thought, yet, I am sure mother does not favor her mother and father."
"I am sure Mother can arrange to have what we want, and to not have what we do not want, at our table. Would you not reckon?"
Gareen smiled, and Shan smiled back at him. Mother did have a way with people. Gentle or otherwise, although it was obvious that she much preferred to be gentle.
"Gareen? While we are idle, may I ask you something?"
"You are my brother. There is nothing you can not ask me."
"Will I ever meet the High Lord."
Gareen chuckled.
"Which one? Each district has one."
"Nay, Gareen… our high lord. The Land Lord."
"Why do you wish to meet him? Although, I suppose you will meet him one day. Father has dealings with the man. He serves him in all ways."
"It would be such a novel thing, I suppose. To actually meet such a man."
"A man such as…"
"Gareen. Simply everyone knows of him. He is said to have perhaps the mightiest ax arm, in the whole of the kingdom. And his war hammer, as well. They say of him, that many men can not even lift his greatest ax and hammer. And, of those that can? Few could even wield it. I would be the envy of all the boys, were I to have seen him, if even from afar. I have heard, he never even gives audience."
"He is a great man, that is true. As you well know, he serves the North Star personally. He deals with the high king as often as other great men deal with but the wise high steward. His duties keep him away. He is always on command work."
"I wonder what his personal land holdings are like…"
"Father told me, that he keeps a small land holding in the High King's own personal district. That the Lord and the high king? Are known to drink fine-mead, and to favor high dice, for their idle time. When they get the chance for such."
"On account of both the high lord and the high king, are both rough and coarse fighting men, no doubt."
"I would suppose. It is said, that men such as that? The men that led the 'Great Tempering' of the kingdom when it needed done. They had to take many trophies. Many people are… well, they fear such men, as well as respect them. As you well know already, most people favor having dealings with the wise steward. That he is a man of great reckoning, and that there is not a more pleasant man to be around. The high lord is the same, I would imagine. People respect him, yet, they fear him greatly. Like all of us, the high lord follows the high king's own example, and has a steward. So the pickles can come freely to him. With no fear."
"Was not Father in the battles of the Great Tempering? Yet, he is a Gentle Man, and a steward."
"Well, Father does not talk about those times much. Father says that times of peace and plenty, are much more important than short periods of great battles. We all know what Father says of such."
"When it is time to fight, you must fight. When not? It is more pleasant to tend to a small farm."
"You see, until the high king set the example, most kings would… enjoy people showing fear, and groveling. The North Star? Was the first king that does not require the pickles to grovel before him. In fact, they say he can not stand such. That is why the high king sets the example to follow, to have a wise steward that is pleasant. Both common and pleasant. Pickles find it easier to deal with other pickles. So, a pleasant steward is the best way."
"The North Star, really does not care for nobility much. He calls them turds."
"Aye, he does. Now then, are we to waste this entire fine day, talking about the comings and goings and ways of great men? Or perhaps, we should see what I brought for us to play with, in this large sack."
"What did you bring, Gareen?"
"I suppose, were you to open the large sack, you would then know, would you not."
Shan Peen opened his brother's sack he had carried up with him, and was amazed to find it contained swords and daggers. Two long touch sticks, as well.
"Oh, Mekall and you, are going to practice. I get to watch!"
"Nay."
"I have to leave, then?"
"Nay."
and Gareen was smirking.
"You jest, then!"
"No jest, little brother. Mother and Father gave Mekall and me leave of it. We are to begin to teach you how to fight."
Gareen stood up. Took a sword in his hand. Swished it a few times. Then he turned on Shan with it.
"Now, little brother. Mind… my… blade. This is no stick. It has a fine edge, and it has a sharp point. I want you to pretend you have dropped your stick, and are staying away from my stick… my metal stick… alright?"
Shan nodded. He backed up, got ready. He eyed his brother's sword just as he eyed any other stick in games. You were to never take your eyes off of it, nor turn your back on it.
Gareen started slowly at first, then gradually sped up his attacks. Shan was amazed it was as easy to avoid the sword as it was to avoid a stick in games. Gareen had already shown him, that Shan's own game sticks were the exact same length as the swords. They balanced much the same as well.
Shan was smiling and occasionally chuckled. It was no big deal after all these years playing games, to simply turn your body and let the stick swish the air near you. All his footwork he had learned over the years playing outside the garden. It was identical. He quickly had fun with it, and would cartwheel away from Gareen lunging at him or cutting at him. He started showing off a little, simply leaning back as the swish that was meant for his head or neck cut the air a few inches in front of his face.
They sat and took a break. Gareen was grinning a happy smirk, and Shan was beaming.
"So, young Peen… do you still think you will be into your first grays before you learn to fight properly?"
Shan shook his head no. Then reached out and hugged his much larger, much older brother.
"Thank ye…", he whispered into his muscular breast.
"All is well, but you flatter me on no account, little brother. I have taught you nothing, that you did not already know. Wooden stick… metal stick… you can kill a drunken fool with a stick you pick up and sharpen by rubbing it on a rock. Unarmed and running from a fool chasing you? You can simply stay ahead of him, break a stick off a tree, and it will likely be pointed just enough to do the deed well. Yet… it is nicer to have the proper tool with you."
"Why… did no one tell me?"
"Why, is on account of two things. One, little children do not need to get angry over childish nonsense, and kill each other over nothing. That is the way of drunken fools, and dimwitted beasts, not the ways of men that have even half of their wits about them. Two, it is actually easy to learn to fight, as you now see. What is hard is knowing the proper time to fight, and more importantly, the proper time not to fight."
"Am I now allowed to…"
"No, you are not given leave to fight yet. Only Father can give you that leave. That was his command, and I can not counter it. I serve father, in all ways. I was given leave to show you how to fight… I was not given leave to allow you to fight."
Shan seemed to be thinking. Gareen smiled.
"Previously, it bothered you that you thought you could not fight. Are you now bothered by knowing how, but not having leave to do so?"
Shan smirked.
"No, I do not think so."
"And, do you feel better? Simply knowing you can, even though you are not allowed to yet."
Shan nodded affirmatively.
"All right. Now give me that wooden chest piece, and we will slowly see you start to do what I was doing. Start very slow, and do as I did. First show me the stroke you are going to use, then you do each stroke the same but a little faster each time…"
Shan was amazed how good Gareen was at this, when Gareen suddenly showed him a new trick, that never happened at garden play with the touch sticks. He was poking straight in for the chest piece, when Gareen suddenly turned left instead of right as he had been doing each time. It caught him off guard, and Gareen deftly grabbed his wrist as he was leaning in and yanked him off his feet and all but tossed him. Had him pinned to the ground with his thick thumb, like a bug on a pin.
"As you see, little brother… fighting and playing are two different things."
They were still practicing, and Shan was intent on his lesson… when Gareen started smiling. Then more. Shan furrowed his brow, what was it…
All he heard was...
"Ha!"
And before he could recover from wondering what the hell was happening… Mekall had him bound up in his long arms from behind. Gareen walked up and poked him in the heart of the chest piece. With his finger.
"As I just said, little brother. Fighting for real, is very different from practicing. When it is not for sport? You need to look out of the corner of your eye, without taking your main eyes off of your opponent. I stand like this…"
And Gareen showed him how he could then see just out the corner of his eye, to see a tiny blur of movement coming up.
Mekall was way more devious at these cheating tricks than Gareen was. Gareen would kick a rock at him then rush him. Kick loose dirt into his face, then thrust and tap his chest plate when his eyes had dirt in them. Once, after taking a break? Mekall must have palmed some loose sand, and tossed it in his face. Another time? He had palmed a rock, as he had ducked and recovered back upright.
Shan was impressed with his older brother's impressive array of devilish tricks. They assured him, there was plenty more where that came from.
Mekall had Shan's favorite trick, though. Mekall dropped his sword in front of him. He had held it out in both palms, and dropped it flat. When Shan went for him, he simply kicked in the dirt under it and up in the right spot. Then the sword flew up and into his hand without him even looking at it.
Mekall explained. If you do that, to a dishonorable beast? He will rush in, with no thought of defense, because you are unarmed… and you are not. Also, it was a great way to recover from being disarmed. Mekall continued:
"Now you see another reason why the both of us were playing the word hurt game with you. You thought it was just so you could learn to ignore the hairy beasts having sport with you? It was, but… you can not allow yourself to lose your helmet over words. Not just to avoid a fight, which is always a wise thing if you can… yet also so that you do not get angry and do something foolish."
"Aye, and I would add to Mekall's instruction? If you need to bait a man to fight for some reason… or you want to try to make him do something foolish, or tire himself out? Simply make him mad with words. The words mean little to a man of reckoning, yet, to a hairy beast? He will lose all calm, and his heart will beat like a drum and drain his energy very quickly. You can easily beat a much better opponent? By making him mad, and keeping him mad. You tire him out? Then you can win easily."
Shan was beyond impressed. Impressed surely with how he all but knew how to fight already, yet, impressed further at all the devious tricks these two had up their sleeves.
"Oh. Which of you then, was it that taught mother to keep those tiny knives up in her robe sleeves?"
Both looked at each other, puzzled. They obviously didn't.
"Must have been father that taught mother that trick then…"
Then? Both older brothers looked at each other and started guffawing, and all but bending over laughing.
"Father did not instruct us on swordplay, little brother. It was all mother's doing. It is our family secret, by the way, that mother taught father to fight well with a sword."
"Little brother… how many times must you have heard mother say it over all the winters of your life? Do not confuse gentle with weak. Being quiet and polite? Will lead many fools in this world, to take you lightly. Let them think such… they will not be prepared for you then. An enemy not prepared, is an enemy already beaten."
"Can I learn a dagger?"
"Did you not spend your childhood playing touch and go? You learned to pick a man out of a group, rush out, and plunge a dagger into the weak points between armor pieces. Use yer helmet, little brother."
"I suppose you will next tell me, that all these winters spent running from the boys who would grab me up and all have sport with me at once? Is yet another way to fight."
Shan was being highly sarcastic, yet, Mekall said:
"You have your mother's sharp tongue, little brother. For your wits, then…"
And, to Shan's amazement? Mekall started simply listing all the dangerous tactics running from enemies gave him already.
--- you are one of the best runners in the whole village because of it
--- you can not kill, what you can not catch
--- if you can not catch a man, how can you possibly escape from him if he comes for you
--- if you are clearly outclassed? Run from him, until he is winded. Then, you can kill him easily when he is exhausted
--- a man who fights a little, then runs, and is chased? Can lead a group of enemy into a deadly ambush waiting on the trail
Just when Shan thought it was over? His devious older brothers explained what the sweetbread game taught. It was two fold, at least. For one, you could lay a trap for your enemy, and easily bring him to you. And, now that he knew that, he knew to watch out for such a trap.
Mekall ended the lesson with a plum. He explained that you fight with this, tapping his own head with the sword, and not with this, holding the sword out. His great reckoning was his true deadliest weapon, not the sword or the stick.
"Mother has quite the temper, she will take a man's oath at knife point, at the drop of a bad word…"
They both smiled at each other.
"How many times has father explained to you, that when in the woods? You need eyes in the back of yer head, so as to not accidentally walk between a mother bear, and one of her cubs. All mothers are protective of their young. Mother was just given claws when she was young."
They finished up by a short time of both brothers trying to touch him with one of the sticks at once, and he was to avoid them with nothing in his hand. It was so he could stay alive long enough on the battlefield, until help fought its way over to him. Or, facing superior numbers? He could 'entertain' two men at once if they were not terribly skilled.
It allowed a small band of properly trained fighters? To easily take on larger forces with confidence.
When they were done for the day, Mekall and Gareen both walked away several paces, and took Shan's oath. At point. He was not to divulge that he was learning to fight. To anyone. He was to keep running from the bigger boys that chased him, at least for now.
They made sure Shan understood. Shan had attended the garden every day it was open for at least ten winters straight. The hairy beasts barely attended even irregularly. Shan had benefit from all those uninterrupted years of the 'games' the bigger and older boys discarded as feminine and childish. He had done the same, by diligently getting good at the meadow tricks, and the dancing. He had five times the training and experience all those hairy fools had, if not more.
Even more importantly?
None of the fools even knew he could fight, let alone realized that he was better prepared for it than they were.
They both reminded him on the walk back home.
He would bargain with the lead animal. Once.