Dragon Clans Bk. 01 Pt. 13

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The continuing adventures of Michael Dane.
5.7k words
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Part 12 of the 33 part series

Updated 10/23/2022
Created 09/15/2008
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Vjax
Vjax
946 Followers

Chapter 13

What you hear is the sound of your own breathing, heavy from having an opponent who pushes your limits, light when confronting someone of less skill, or balanced and steady when evenly matched.

Michael was breathing heavily, his total focus on his opponent, his vision both obscured and enhanced by the limited view through the tightly woven mesh.

It was in a word, exhilarating.

There are few places in life where you feel purely alive. Here, watching his opponent feign left and try to come in underneath his guard, Michael snarled, enjoying the primal feeling of life as he swung the thin blade of the foil in a quick arc, deflecting the attack and readying for his own was one of those places.

Aside from rowing, the other activity that consumed Michael's attention during high school and college was fencing.

As with rowing it was something that got put to the side as work, schedule and life began to take up more and more time. It's sirens call remained with him however, every four years he would make a point to catch the US fencing team during the Olympics, he would slip away and watch matches at UF when he could.

It was one of those private activities that were singularly his, that would allow him to escape and find a focus not attainable in the rest of his hectic life.

............

Two days had passed since his early morning swim.

Sunday evening he, with Tera in tow, were allowed back into his home and he set about getting ready for the week, highly aware of Tera always being within close proximity, always watching him.

Class didn't start for another week, but he had a few afternoon meetings with other faculty coming up and he wanted to check out the boathouse Valerie had mentioned to see if he could get some oar time.

Sunday evening was uneventful, although there was a...tension that Michael could not put his finger on. Tera had brought a small duffle bag, installed a few makeshift alarms on the windows and doors while he made dinner.

It was interesting and a bit...disturbing having a roommate. Michael had not lived with anyone since Sasha was killed; having Tera there brought up memories and desires that he was unsure how to deal with.

They had talked some, not an ongoing conversation more sharing bits and pieces of their lives through dinner. He learned of her time in the service, her recent "retirement" and the new position on Nigel's detail.

She did not press him for details of his life, she had read the dossier on him, knew about the crash that killed his wife and child, understood that he was here trying to move on and start over from that painful moment in his life.

The evening wound down quickly, both of them exhausted after a long, energetic and confusing day.

...............

The hard press of the rounded tip of the foil on his shoulder brought a smile to his face, 'damn, not concentrating,' he thought as the referee called point.

Taking off his mask he looked across at the young man who had been his opponent and walked over to shake his hand.

"Thank you for the match, it has been a long time, I appreciate you indulging an old man," Michael said jovially.

"Old...right," John said thinking that this "old man" was one of the toughest opponents he had ever had and he was thankful that he was "rusty".

Michael turned and found Tera watching him with a small smile on her face.

For the last two hours she had watched as he systematically obliterated everyone thrown up against him. In eight 15-point matches he only lost the last one and that by 3 touches.

It was interesting watching him fence, she had of course seen fencing before, but it was not a top tier discipline in the teams so she had only a passing knowledge. Now that he had found the Oxford fencing club she wondered if he would still return to the boathouse they had found Monday morning.

............

Tera was surprised to hear Michael up and around that first morning after the incident on the bridge. It was early, about a half hour before dawn when she heard movement from the upstairs loft.

Rising and stretching the kinks out of her muscles she called up to him "kind of early isn't it."

With concern in his voice he replied "Sorry to wake you, I've never been one to sleep the morning away, I usually run first thing to get the blood pumping."

She watched as he came down the stairs, thin workout pants, cross trainers, she noted the muscles and thick but not...unruly hair of his chest as he pulled the sweatshirt down over his head.

"Let me change, I'll go with you," she said, walking towards the bathroom.

"Are you sure your up to it, maybe you should rest today," Michael said about to continue until he caught the icy look she gave him over her shoulder.

"Hopefully YOU will be able to keep up Mr. Dane," she growled as she closed the door.

Shaking his head, Michael smiled, thinking it was interesting living with someone...lethal.

The run had been easy for both of them, as both of them did not want to "wear out" the other. They ran silently, matching each other's pace, lost for awhile in the simple act of being a living being, running through the pre dawn.

Michael pulled up in front of a small building about 2 miles from his flat. "Valerie told me about this," he said to no one in particular.

Tera looked at the small building more closely, numerous oars hung from the buildings exterior walls, some intact, others halved, all with dates on them. Tera walked closer running her fingers over the smooth lacquered finish of one of the older looking oars noting the date as 1912 "Dartmouth Regatta".

"When you win a race you mount the winning oar on the boat house," Michael said.

Tera started a bit at his voice, he was close, she could feel the heat from his body just behind her as he looked over her shoulder.

"My friend Valerie told me about this place, I use to row in college and had hoped to find someplace to rent a scull," Michael said, his hand settling naturally on her shoulder as he looked closer at the oars.

While Michael was not consciously aware of the simple gesture he made while looking at the Harvard oar, the same was not true for Tera.

It wasn't so much the setting of his hand on her shoulder, it was a purely instinctual act on his part, it was the form this simple natural act took on that startled her.

It started low below her shoulder on her upper back, three fingertips making contact gently with her, sliding smoothly up, more of his fingers pressing into her, and then his palm coming to rest on top of her shoulder, and as a grand finale those three fingertips now resting lightly between her shoulder and collar bone gave a small squeeze when the operation was complete.

Tera simply stared at the oars not seeing them, thinking back she had trouble finding another moment where she felt so much from a simple...natural gesture.

Michael moved off, around the corner, Tera looked after him, feeling both his absence from her side and the loss of contact with him, she was...stunned by the void.

"Closed, damn," she heard him say as she walked around the corner to see him looking at a small sign on the door.

"They won't be open for a few weeks, not till after the term starts," he said to her, his hangdog look made her want to hug him, she fought the impulse.

They started their run again, another mile then back the way they had come, as they ran he told her about his first scull, of the manatee, of loving the water. By the time they returned to his flat she was even more intrigued by him than she had been and this confused and bothered her to no end.

The rest of the day had passed quickly, trips to the school, finding Michael's classrooms, getting his assigned faculty office, 'suspiciously close to Valerie's,' Michael thought with a grin.

Then dinner out at a small pub and back to the flat for an early slip. Well at least for Michael it was an early slip.

Tera had trouble winding down it, had been an odd day shadowing someone during a "normal" day. Use to more volatile environments hanging around Oxford with Michael left her in an unusually restless mood.

She had checked in with Nigel twice, he confirmed that there was a loose team of three staying in the background just in case but Nigel told her that, at least for a few weeks, Michael should not be in harms way.

Nigel had called Michael once telling him it would probably be a few weeks before they were sure all of the cell members were in hand and thanking him for allowing Tera to stay with him to ensure his safety.

Lying in the dark Tera thought of the other phone calls during the day.

Four times Michael had called Valerie.

Each time the conversations were short, seemingly routine questions about the school, the job, location of things, he had told her of the boathouse being closed, etc. Each time she could see the change in Michael, the softening of his demeanor, the easy smile afterwards, Valerie was, by Tera's estimation, a very lucky woman.

Tera drifted to sleep that night with her hand on her shoulder, her thoughts filled with the feeling of Michael's touch and how it would feel if his touch had real intention behind it.

............

The next morning was more of the same, an early morning run, back to the flat then off to the university.

"Would you mind doing me a favor," Michael asked as they stood in the large classroom where his first year intro class would be held.

'Hehe, if you only knew,' Tera thought to herself.

"Sure, what do you need," she answered.

Looking at him she knew that he was a young girls wet dream today.

Wearing a heavy corded white turtle neck sweater, sleeves pushed up, black jeans and boots, if he dressed like this the young women in his class would be distracted to a fault.

"I would like to give my introduction speech and a live critique would be great," he said moving down to the lectern.

"Go ahead teach," grinning with her answer.

She was surprised by his passion; over the next 30 minutes she learned of his grandfather, his love of buildings, his desire to make grand spaces that inspired people. He spoke eloquently about his favorite buildings, railed against a few he thought were overrated and gave an outline of what he hoped to impart during the term.

As he finished she found herself sorry it was over and hoped that she would be required to guard his body into the term to see what came next.

The soft applause startled her as she stood and turned in one smooth motion assessing for any possible threats.

What she found was a young man and woman standing at the back of the auditorium clapping lightly.

"I wish you had been here in my first year, I might have stuck with architecture," the young man said with a joking inflection.

Michael walked up to the couple smiling "Well, I'm sorry we missed the opportunity, I'm Michael Dane, I'll be teaching the intro course this year for first years, this is my friend Tera," Michael said motioning to the woman who was now at his side.

"I'm James this is my friend Catherine, we didn't mean to intrude but heard someone in here and wanted to see what was what," James said.

Michael was more interested in their clothing than their reason for being in the class. "Your fencers?" Michael asked with an enthusiasm that was not lost on any of them.

"Yes, we are both members of the universities' team, do you fence?" James asked.

"I use to, a lifetime ago, any chance there is free fencing sometime during the day that an old hack like me could come to?" Michael asked hopefully.

James smiled "Every morning from 6 till 8," he said giving Michael the information and wishing him well as he and his girlfriend left. Both were impressed with the yank and wondering if they could audit the class.

"We have some shopping to do," Michael said to Tera with a definitely happy tone.

It didn't take long to find the small shop on Sutton Ferry Ln. just off campus that supplied the needs of Oxford's fencers.

It was like all such stores that cater to a very limited clientele, small, well stocked, with employees who were passionate about the world they called home.

"Good day can I help you," the voice said before the door chime had finished its light melody.

The man must have been in his late 60's, healthy and stout for a man his age, he gave off an aura of subtle power that was not easy to miss.

"Good afternoon, I was hoping to look at some of your foils and gear, I am new in town and haven't fenced for years but am looking to get back into it," Michael said, walking over and shaking the mans hand.

"Excellent, I am sure we can help you, the foils are over there on the wall, jackets, gloves, masks at the back," the man said looking over Michael and Tera with more than a passing interest it seemed.

Tera stood back and watched as Michael moved over to the foils, taking his time looking them all over, occasionally taking one down to get the feel of it in his hand, spinning small circles in the air with others, two found their way onto the counter as he moved back to the racks containing the jackets.

While Michael had been busy with the Foils, Tera had been watching the shop owner. He had an odd look in his eye as he watched Michael and then went to the back of the store, disappearing through the office door muttering something to himself.

Turning back to Michael she was surprised to see him taking off his thick sweater as he slipped into a fencing jacket. He pulled the front zipper closed from his waist to his neck and fastened the collar then moved to the gloves, finding one that he liked he put that on as well.

The masks took a bit longer, but finally he placed one on his head, hiding his face behind the black mesh, moving and twisting in place she watched passively, understanding that he definitely understood what he was looking for.

After placing the new found pieces on the counter he picked out two pairs of black slacks that looked as if they would fit tight 'I wonder what his ass will look like in those,' Tera mused to herself before pulling herself back from the thought.

The last thing was a black oblong bag obviously made for fencing with a large wide bottom and thin top, which would accommodate the mask at the bottom while providing the height required for the swords.

Just as Michael picked up this last, the man came back from the office carrying a folder.

"Ah looks like you found everything you need," the proprietor said as he moved behind the counter.

"Yes you have a wonderful selection, everything is so much lighter than I remember must be new materials, I was really surprised by the masks, its almost like not wearing anything compared to the old ones," Michael spoke animatedly, obviously pleased to be in a new, yet fondly remembered environment.

A pensive look passed over the shop owners face and then resolved as if making a decision.

He hesitated only a moment before picking up the glove and saying "I have an embroidery machine in the back, if my memory serves you preferred purple thread for your inscription."

Michael was shocked it showed momentarily on his face and then shifted to a self deprecating smile "I didn't realize you were a fan of ancient history" Michael said looking at the shop keeper with a good natured gaze.

"Not so ancient," the shopkeeper replied "My name Sam Crofton, it's a pleasure to meet you," Sam said extending his hand.

"The pleasure is mine," Michael said taking the offered hand in a bit longer shake than the first.

"I saw you at the NCAA finals, I was a coach at the time and had brought over several fencers to watch the best the USA had to offer, I was surprised when you didn't go to the world championships or the Olympics," Sam said as he opened the folder he had been carrying and pulled out a magazine.

On the cover was a picture of a much younger Michael holding his foil and helmet in one hand, shaking hands with some official with the other; the caption read "The best fencer in the world?"

Tera was surprised to see that Michael actually blushed when he saw the magazine.

"That was a long time ago, other things were more important and I had to make a choice, I don't regret not pursing it further but I am excited to get back into it as a hobby," Michael said staring at the picture with a wistful far away look.

"Hobby," Sam snorted, "that's like Bill Gates saying he is going to start another software company as a hobby."

Michael blushed deeper as Sam offered him a pen. "Would you mind, I would love to hang this with the others," he asked as he took the glove and headed back toward the office again.

It was a surreal moment for Michael, a life left long ago came crashing into the now with a force that surprised him, for several moments he was lost in those times, all those matches, all that training, two individual sports that he had excelled at, was it the right choice to let them slip away...unanswerable questions...he was happy with his life choices, happy for those he had shared his life with.... happy that Valerie and Tera were now very present in his life.

Tera...her easy inclusion as necessary in his life now caused him to look up sharply into the eyes of the woman next to him.

The intensity of his gaze shocked Tera, just as she was about to say something, his eyes softened and he smiled his lopsided grin, a light blush passing over his cheeks as he turned back to the magazine and signed it.

To Sam, a kindred Spirit, Michael Dane.

Tera and Michael wandered around the store a bit more, he grabbed a few t-shirts she looked over the foils and gear with more attention, both lost for the moment in their own thoughts.

Sam returned and rang up the purchases, he thanked Michael for the autograph indicating that it would be hung on the wall behind him, which held various pictures, and magazine articles all signed by the fencers they were about.

Before sliding it into the bag Michael took the glove and looked at the inscription, his thumb played over the three embroidered lines, remembering the first glove he had them placed on.

"What is it," Tera asked in a low voice close to his side.

Sam noticeably leaned closer hopping to hear the response as well.

"Well..." Michael began cautiously, he was not one to share details like this as they could very easily be construed as egotistical or just plain strange, but it had been a long time, there could be no harm.

"My grandfathers family came to the US from Norway, one day when I was little I was playing in the attic and came across a bag full of stones. On the stones were symbols, when I asked my grandfather about them he told me they were runes, an ancient written language used by the Vikings. I always enjoyed their...mystical feel...so I learned a bit about them. When I started to fence I wanted something on my glove as a...focus...before a match, I chose to do it in runes so others wouldn't think I was being...egotistical." Michael finished, his thumb still playing over the threaded runes.

"And," Tera asked impatiently noting Sam was nearly leaning over the counter listening to Michael.

Laughing Michael continued, "The first line says HONOR, the second COURAGE, the last VICTORY." The blush was back on his cheeks in full force.

Sam let out a breath smiling, Tera looked at the lines and slashes in dark purple on the wrist of the glove wondering just how many times it was raised in victory.

Michael thanked Sam for all of his help promising to come back again and that perhaps sometime they could have a match.

Sam thanked him profusely for the autograph yet again and said he would be happy to watch Michael fence but he had no desire to face him across anything other than a countertop or perhaps a pint.

The walk back to flat had been quiet. Upon returning Michael called Valerie to tell her about his impromptu lecture and that he had met a few fencers that he may want to have a match or two with.

Vjax
Vjax
946 Followers
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