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True to his word, and Lillium's initial request, Qui'tilla was not able to get up when she came to. It took her a full week before she could walk again and another month before she could do so without a limp. When that time came, Jarlnian was still incapable of holding a weapon. Lillium had tried to withhold the healing powers available from the Del'Axle priestesses, but Matron Reinela had stepped in and made sure that her son got the treatment he needed. Jarlnian would make a full recovery, she was told, but not for a while yet.
When Qui'tilla was able to walk normally again, she approached Matron Reinela. "How is my son?" Reinela asked as Qui'tilla bowed before the matron's throne.
"He is able to feed himself now. He will be ready to walk within a week or so. He will not be able to hold a weapon for another weak. Full recovery is not expected for another three months."
"That is not why you have come," Reinela knew.
Qui'tilla shook her head. "I can do no more with him."
Reinela looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"What do you need to know to teach a kobold?" the weapon master said, repeating an old drow saying.
"More than the kobold," Reinela responded, completing the saying.
"This kobold knows as much as I do and probably more. Any further time I spend with him will not improve his skills beyond what they are. If anything, he will be teaching me."
"But it has not even been a year yet. Have you gone through all the weapons with him?"
Qui'tilla shook her head. "As soon as he holds a new weapon in his hand, he will know more about its use than I in mere hours. There is nothing more that I can teach him that he can not teach himself."
Lillium was in the corner of the room, listening to this conversation with great interest. "Then it is settled," she called from the corner of the room as she walked toward the throne. "If he has learned all there is to know as a fighter, then there is nothing left for him but to study under Cirrel. Del'Axle's chief mage can surely keep him busy for more than six months."
"He has not learned all there is to know," Qui'tilla said gruffly to her mother. "He has learned all that I can teach him."
"Cirrel will not teach him," Reinela said just as gruffly. "The next time you suggest that Jarlnian should be a wizard will be the last time you speak in my presence." Lillium grew pale under the direct rebuke. "Do you understand?"
Lillium nodded and backed away. Reinela turned back to her granddaughter. "What about Krol? Could he teach him?"
Qui'tilla tried not to laugh out loud. "Matron Mother, Krol can not last thirty seconds against me, and I can not last ten seconds against Jarlnian."
"But Krol fights with a different style than you? Correct?"
The weapon master nodded. "Your secondboy uses a single rapier and a lot of acrobatics."
"He can teach this style to Jarlnian?"
Qui'tilla nodded. "He can. It will be a short lesson, but he can teach it."
"Then he will do it, and I will be there to watch it. Let me know when my youngest son is capable of fighting again, and I shall bring his older brother to the gym with me."
Qui'tilla bowed. "As you wish."
***
Jarlnian stood tall in the Del'Axle gym facing his brother.
He had had a lot of time to think about things during his six months of recovery and had come to a very certain conclusion: he did not like Lillium. As he had pondered this, he realized that it was not Lillium he disliked as much as what she stood for and what drove her. It came down to Lloth.
Jarlnian knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could beat any one of his sisters as easily and completely as he had taken down Qui'tilla. In his eyes that meant he was more powerful than they were. He knew that they had priestly powers that could assail him, but he felt that he could deal with physical pain, and anything that attacked the mind he could fight against.
Regardless of how often he proved himself, he would still just be a male. Now, to keep him from beating up any more females, they were going to parade males in front of him. Fine. He would play their game for now. He would jump through hoops for them as long as it got him to the Academy where he could finally feel important and respected.
In the room with the two Del'Axle males were three other females looking on. Qui'tilla was there of course, and Reinela had promised to show up. Lillium was also there. Jarlnian did not know why his oldest sister would want to watch something she so despised, but one look at the whip hanging from her waist told him enough.
"So I am to fight you," Jarlnian said to his much older brother.
Krol pulled a rapier and nodded. It was not his normal weapon, for that was highly enchanted and was fit for killing and not practice. Instead he held a dull practice weapon that Qui'tilla had provided for him.
"Let's get on with it then." Jarlnian could see immediately that this would be different than his previous fights. Krol's quickness and dexterity matched his own, if not exceeded it, and his attacks would come from a very differently shaped weapon. Krol let Jarlnian attack first.
The younger brother stepped forward and swung in a lightning fast "Z" cut, changing directions sharply and not allowing Krol a chance to get through. His rapier would be blown out of his hands if tried to block the attack and instead rolled under it. Krol came up close to his brother and jabbed up at his groin.
Jarlnian brought his hilt back close to his chest and swung down with his weapon as if he were attacking his own feet. The two-handed sword knocked the smaller weapon away before it could hit home, and Krol rolled with the block, moving to Jarlnian's side.
The upright Del'Axle continued the swing of his weapon and brought it up over his shoulder as he turned toward his rolling brother. It looked like Jarlnian meant to chop him like wood, and Krol barely scampered away. He would not escape that easily, and the huge sword changed direction again, slicing in a horizontal arc.
Krol ducked just under the swipe and then rolled back to his left as Jarlnian changed directions again and angled the weapon down. He corrected his miss, and jabbed out at the nimble scout. Again Krol was able to avoid the attack, jumping over the low thrust.
Jarlnian tried to knock him out of the air, but Krol quickly levitated up, and then dropped back down as the blade passed underneath him. Thinking he finally had an opening, Krol jumped forward, but had to retreat just as quickly as the huge sword came back in from above.
"Are you going to fight or just dance?" Jarlnian yelled at his brother. Other than his initial thrust, Krol might as well not even be holding a weapon.
"I dance or I die," he came back. "You will break every bone in my body with that stalagmite you are swinging."
Jarlnian stopped for a moment and analyzed his choice of weapon. It was a powerful sword, capable of dealing a lot of damage. He could put the strength of both his arms and shoulders into each swing, but it was not very nimble. Jarlnian could move the weapon as fast as anyone, but quickness was another thing. He was quick, but Krol, with only a light rapier, was quicker.
"Very well," Jarlnian said and tossed the sword aside. He walked over to the wall and spent a short while picking out a smaller one-handed sword. He swung it back and forth in front of him in a short series of swipes and jabs, appreciating the speed and quickness of the light weapon.
Krol's eyes lit up as Jarlnian walked back in front of him. He knew this was the first time his younger brother had ever used a weapon other than the broadsword, and he could not possibly be fluent with it. Krol took the initiative first this time.
Jarlnian reacted quickly swinging his weapon in tune with his brother's. He was not so much blocking the attacks as he was attacking the blade. This became obvious when Krol feinted left and spun right. Jarlnian's blade hit only air and he had to get it back to block the attack from his left. He positioned it perfectly vertical, the tip pointing at the ground.
Even as Krol's rapier lightly grazed the block and the older fighter spun back left, Jarlnian knew he had erred. The block had been good, but it had been stationary. Now as Krol spun around attacking from Jarlnian's right, the younger fighter could not get his blade back in time and took a solid hit to his ribs.
Krol jumped back after making first contact smiling broadly. He cast a confident look back at his mother as if to say, "Shall I go put him back on the web I got him from." But Matron Reinela was not looking at her secondboy. Instead she cast a worried look at Qui'tilla.
The weapon master paid neither of them any attention and shouted at Jarlnian. "You're using the wrong-"
"I know! I know!" Jarlnian replied before his teacher could finish. "I used the wrong parry. I'm not an idiot."
Lillium had been waiting for something like this and pulled her weapon. She would teach him to talk disrespectfully to a female. Reinela put a hand on her daughter's shoulder, holding her back. "Leave him be."
Jarlnian winced as he flexed his bruised side but he would live. He turned back to his brother, far angrier with himself than at Krol. "I will lick your boots clean every day for a year if you can touch me again."
Krol smiled at the wager, not seeing the fires that had come on in brother's eyes. "You're on." He rushed madly at Jarlnian, swing his weapon in a spectacular flurry. With one hand tucked behind his back, Jarlnian stood his ground and spun his sword in front of him as if he had practiced for years with the weapon.
Jarlnian knew he could probably not do this well against Qui'tilla yet, but he had just picked up the weapon, and he was learning fast. His sword danced about so quickly, predicting right where Krol's strikes would fall, that he found he had plenty of time between parries. Instead of attacking, he wanted to continue working on his defense, determined never to be hit again.
"Faster!" he cried. "Attack faster!"
Beads of sweat formed on Krol's face as he went through every attack routine he knew, jabbing and swiping, cutting and slashing at his younger brother, but he never came close. Jarlnian gave a sudden yelp and jumped forward. Krol was startled and leaped back. This gave Jarlnian the break he needed, and he switched hands, now holding the sword in his left.
"Again!" he called. Now Krol had the fire in his eyes. He was being made fun of. He knew now that his first hit had been the result of a stupid mistake by Jarlnian, and it was a mistake he would not make again.
Jarlnian fell behind early, and had to take a step back, but after his left arm followed Krol through all his attack routines once, he was able to keep up just fine. Slowly he began to advance on his brother. Krol knew he was defeated. It was only a matter of time.
Jarlnian picked the next attack and blocked the swipe high on the blade, barely catching the tip of the weapon. This caused Krol's hilt to swing ahead of his weapon, exposing his hand. Jarlnian snapped his sword down, cracking the knuckles of his opponent and making him drop his weapon. The younger brother brought his weapon up quickly to slap Krol in the face and used his free hand to grab his cloak.
Jarlnian yanked Krol forward, stepping to the side and tripping him over an outstretched leg. As he fell, Jarlnian conked him on the head with his hilt, sending him sprawling. Jarlnian turned away and bowed sarcastically toward the watching females.
Qui'tilla wanted to applaud but feared a retaliation from her mother. Her student had gone on the offensive for but a brief moment, and the result was a disarmed Krol who lay flat on his face. Jarlnian walked up to her. "Well?" she asked.
"It feels unbalanced," he replied, swinging the sword in front of him.
"The weapon?" she asked, though she was pretty sure she knew what he meant.
"No, the whole one-handed style."
Qui'tilla nodded. It had looked unbalanced to her as well. Still, she wanted to make sure Jarlnian knew why. "What do you mean?"
"With the other sword, I was able to use both arms and shoulders when I fought. Each attack incorporated my whole body, and I felt like it was just an extension of my arms. It was very easy to keep my center of balance between my feet.
"With only one weapon, I feel like I'm leaning to one side all the time. My off foot is not supporting my weight evenly. If I try to even it out, I loose strength and speed with my weapon."
"There are two ways to fix that. One is to change your stance. Turn your body sideways with one foot in front of the other. That way both of your feet are in line with your weapon. But the way I suggest you fix it is by getting another weapon."
Jarlnian looked down at the one in his hand. "Is there something wrong with this one?"
Qui'tilla looked at the crude practice weapon. "Well, yes, but that's not what I meant. Hold two weapons."
Jarlnian's brow furrowed at this. "Won't I get tangled up in them?"
Qui'tilla smiled. "Not you. Not you. It is the traditional style of a drow warrior to use both hands. That means they either wield a two handed weapon, as I do, or use two weapons."
"If that is the traditional way, then why does ..." he turned to look at Krol who was busy dusting himself off.
"Because your brother and all other fighters in this house are not traditional drow warriors."
The two of them walked over to the weapon rack and picked out another sword. Jarlnian held the two weapons. They were comparable in weight and length. He swung them about his body, and they collided uncomfortably twice, causing him to drop one.
"It will take some getting used to," he said as he stooped to pick up his dropped weapon.
"Yes," she agreed. "It will take a lot of practice."
"When do we get started?"
"Right now."
***
Qui'tilla brought drow after drow to face Jarlnian. She knew that none of them could ever match up to him one on one, so she did not even try. She pitted two, sometimes three, fighters against him at once.
After only half an hour fighting with two weapons, he was more skilled at it than Qui'tilla. The weapon master was not a specialist when it came to two weapon fighting. She did not need to be. She was the weapon master for House Del'Axle. Therefore, she had very little to teach Jarlnian when it came to attack routines and maneuvers.
Though he lacked technique, Jarlnian's form was outstanding. It had to be in order to fend off three fighters at once. His blades whirled about his body in a dizzying display, creating an impenetrable shield around him. Every time an attacker tried to slip in, a blade was there to bat it aside, seemingly from out of nowhere. Jarlnian had tremendous vision and his head whirled about as much as his blades, seeing everything around him.
Soon Qui'tilla had him fighting females again - four of them. They each held a different weapon, and Jarlnian had to work to fend off a staff, a mace, a sword, and a flail all at the same time. Above all, he was not allowed to hit any of them, but they were trying their best to hit him.
Lillium made it a point of hers to always be in the gym when Jarlnian fought females. When he fought against males, he would fend off their attacks until it got boring and then in the blink of an eye, his parries would turn into strikes and all his opponents would be stumbling backwards holding a bloody or bruised something. When he fought females, he needed to stay in his defensive posture for the duration of the fight.
His style was unique among drow. Most are drilled with technique and attack maneuvers from the time they pick up a sword until they leave the Academy. Jarlnian had none of that. All he had was a dizzying, 360-degree dance that could turn from defensive into offensive in the blink of an eye.
On the surface it was called "swashbuckling." Those fighters who lacked real skill and training, but did have exceptional coordination used it. It was more of a show than any type of fighting. The swashbucklers attempted to lull their enemies into a state of awe and hesitation at attacking such a skilled fighter. Invariably, a bowman would take out these stunned fighters, leaving the swashbuckler free to twirl about to his heart's content without ever having to do any real fighting. Jarlnian's style might be wrought from lack of technique, but it had nothing to do with lack of skill.
And so three more years passed. Jarlnian had fought against everything House Del'Axle had to throw at him, and he had passed all the tests. Now he stood in front of Matron Reinela, only a week from going to the Academy. He had many bumps and bruises, and Qui'tilla though it best to give him a week off.
Jarlnian had seen the stack of equipment when he had entered the room and now smiled as his mother gave it to him. "These are also gifts," she said as she presented him with a vest of finely crafted chain, two drow swords, and two jeweled scabbards. "Use them for the glory of House Del'Axle and Lloth, and you shall keep them."
Jarlnian drew each sword, examining its weight and balance. With these weapons alone, his skill nearly doubled. He strapped them to his belt and stood proudly before his matron mother.
"You have lived within this house for twenty years, and it has been a very important twenty years for House Del'Axle. The houses ranked above us envy our position as fourth house, and I feel an attack of some sort will come within the next two decades. You have the chance to be instrumental in House Del'Axle's continual existence and dominance. If you put your blades to good use fighting for this house, you will be rewarded."
Jarlnian listened to the charge, and bowed to one knee in front of the throne. "I will do my best, Matron Mother."
Reinela motioned for him to rise. "Now, before you go off to the Academy, do you have any requests? Do you need anything? Do you wish any additional weapons? Perhaps you are in need of some more equipment. Have you had your eye on any particular common female within the house?"
"I have a question," Jarlnian asked solemnly. "If you would answer it, that is all I need."
Reinela raised her eyebrows at this. "Very well, ask your question, and I shall answer it."
"Who is my real mother?"
The audience chamber held Lillium, Goria, Herlina, Qui'tilla, Krol, and Matron Reinela and each were shocked beyond belief. Lillium and Goria were the first to respond to this blasphemous outburst by their brother. They flanked Jarlnian, slightly behind him, and they each drew their whips.
Every male they had ever beaten had always stood there and taken it. Jarlnian was not so inclined. He had expected their attack, and as a result of their immense surprise, neither struck with much precision. His arms snaked out faster than the serpent-headed whips and grasped each below the branching before any of the heads could strike home. With a quick snap of his arms, he disarmed both high priestesses and tossed the whips into the corner of the room.
Matron Reinela stood from her throne, her face flushed with rage. "How dare you!!!"
Every female in the room started to draw their melee weapons, but with one look at the new swords hanging at Jarlnian's hips, they knew that in these close confines, without the restriction of not being able to strike a female, the skilled drow warrior would make short work of them.
Throughout this commotion, Jarlnian remained calm and poised. "You asked me if I had any requests, and you said that you would answer my question. I have fought against this entire house, and I know that I am a kin to none of them. I knew this from almost my first days as a page prince, but I kept my mouth closed and have served you and your house loyally. Now I will continue to do as I have done and as I have promised to do. I will go to the Academy and represent our house to the best of my ability without a second thought, regardless of your answer. But I must know."
Reinela's face slowly turned into a grin, and she motioned to her daughters and weapon master to stand down. Thankful they would not have to engage this drow in battle, the Del'Axle females returned their weapons to their sheathes.
"Very well," she said with a sigh. She sat back down in her throne and stared at her son. "Matron Baenre."
Jarlnian's entire body went limp. This would have been the time to attack, but Reinela held her children in check. She was almost glad that he had asked. "That's right. You are the third born son to Matron Baenre, matron mother of the first house in all of Menzoberranzan. Twenty years ago two of my sons, Krol and Trenian - the son whose place you took - followed three of your true sisters to a spider colony east of the city.
"There your sisters sacrificed you to Lloth, giving your infant body to the spiders. My sons, your new brothers, rescued you from the web of the very queen of that colony and brought you back to our house. Unfortunately, Baenre's sacrifice demanded a third born son, and Trenian volunteered to save your life."
Jarlnian absorbed this story with his jaw on the floor. His head was spinning. He had been sacrificed by his own mother! Not only that, but his mother was Matron Baenre, the most powerful drow in all of Menzoberranzan!
"For as much as you have been beaten by your sisters for being a male, remember that you were originally sacrificed because of it, and we rescued you. If ever in the future you question where your loyalties should lie, just remember that."
Jarlnian finally closed his mouth and bowed once more. "Thank you, Matron Mother," he managed through a parched throat, "for your honesty and mercy."
With that, Jarlnian was dismissed to his chambers where he did not sleep for days.
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