By THLaird Colyne
Stewart
For one reason or another, Thorfinna and I had b een putting off getting authorized in armoured
combat. First we got sick, then we got busy, then I didn’t like my gorget, and
so on. This went on until this March, two months after my original
authorization goal (Berus ’ Bar Room
Brawl in January). Finally I said to myself, “Just get it done.” So this
Wednesday past (March 13) we went to Skeldergate
and Berus (with the assistance of
Streonwald and Eogan) ran us through a practice authorization process.
We were both nervous for days leading up to the
practice, but once it started we were fine. Our standard sword and shield work
was still good (Thorfinna’s is very good), though our off-hand was not great
(mine is worse). Thorfinna found fighting on her knees difficult, while IO seem
to be getting pretty good at it. We both walked away from the practice
exhausted, but confident we could pass. (I also walked away with a bruise in my
right armpit and a fist-sized one on my left hip. My tendonitis was bothering
my elbows as well. Usually when they act up I take a few weeks off to rest
them, but I didn’t want to push back my deadline again.)
The night before War College
I couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t nerves, it was one of my frequent bouts of
insomnia. So Saturday morning when we headed out I was tired and groggy.
We were one of the first people to arrive, and
seeing baron Cynred, asked him if he would fight us in our authorizations. (You
must fight someone you have never fought before.) He agreed, which made us both
happy, as it would mean more to fight our Baron than anyone else I can think
of.
We immediately suited up and were the first
people in armour. I was practically bouncing up and down in anticipation.
Finally we moved into the gym and Sir Ed the Red inspected our armour. Mine passed fine,
but there was a gap between Thorfinna’s helmet and her gorget. Luckily, Earl
Sir David had some thick leather which he used to block up the holes.
Then Ed said, “Colyne, are you ready?” and I
stepped into the middle of the gym. Ed and the other two marshals (Berus and Streonwald, coincidentally enough) were
off to the left, Cynred in front of me. To the right, all along the wall, was a
score of fighters, including knights and Barons. Most important though, was the
presence of Mahault, Berend, Wulfgang and Jean-Margaret who had come out to
support us. It meant a lot to have friends there rooting for us.
The first part of the authorization was
sparring, calling out all blows but not acting them out. So if I got hit in the
head, I said, “Good head,” but didn’t have to drop dead. This is to make sure
that I am accepting blows that I should b e,
and not hitting my opponent too hard. I did alright, though Cynred hit me more
often than I hit him.
Then we both dropped to our knees and continued
sparring. In this we were, as I recall, fairly even. Already though my lack of
rest was showing. I was getting very tired and my elbows were throbbing.
Next we fought off-hand. I had to put my right
hand b ehind my back and fight with
my left. This is to make sure that you can block and through with your
off-hand, and not bring out your other hand to defend yourself on instinct. I
had no strength in my left arm anymore, and Cynred kept getting past my guard.
He hit me once in the side of the knee (an accident, as knees are not legal
shots) and three times on top of the bruise Eogan had given me on Wednesday!
This almost dropped me to the floor. Ed called for a break and I walked about
for a bit, Baron Sir Vali calling me over to offer advice and encouragement.
When we joined again I was still lethargic, and Cynred tried to goad me, to see
if I’d get frustrated and angry. (If you loose your temper during an
authorization, you fail, as you have proven that you are not safe.) I threw a
few clumsy shots, maintaining my calm (really, I was too tired to loose my
temper, even if I was angry). Ed told me that my off-hand needed work, but it
was good enough.
As I switched b ack
to my normal gear for the last part of the test, Wulfgang told me that my hand
was bleeding. I looked down and saw blood freely flowing off my left hand. I
grunted, then thrust it into my shield-gauntlet and walked
b ack out onto the field. (The half-gauntlets I was wearing
are made out of plastic, and have no give, so my knuckles had rubbed themselves
raw.)
As I stood waiting to fight Cynred in a
simulation tournament round, Berus
came over and asked me what my SCA name was. I looked at him funny and said,
“Colyne.” Apparently everyone had always called me Colyne when he was around,
so he thought it was my mundane name. He walked b ack
to the other marshals and I guessed I was probably going to authorize.
Sir Ed then ran us through a Tourney opening as
we bowed to the Crown (in this case, Sarnac Ba’adur), our inspiration (my sweet
Thorfinna), and each other. Cynred and I then met in a flurry of blows, both of
us legging each other at the same time. We dropped to our knees and our swords
flew again and suddenly he cried, “Yes!” and fell dead.
We climbed to our feet, patted each other on
the back, congratulating each other on a fight well fought as Streonwold
announced that I had authorized. All the other fighters present were kind
enough o applaud.
(Berend later told me that it was the first
time he had ever seen two Dwarves fight.)
Thorfinna went next and she made me look like
an ox. She flew threw her authorization in minutes. Unfortunately she didn’t
kill Cynred in the Tourney round, but she easily passed, and her shield work
was praised b y many. (When Cynred
killed her at the end, she had to demonstrate how to die defensively. That is,
to make sure your ankles aren’t crossed, and to curl into a foetal position, covering
your body with your shield.)
I did something then that was kind of jocky,
but I dabbed b lood from my knuckles
(both hands were bleeding now) onto her tunic and my tabard.
I was too tired and sore to really feel relief
or jubilation and even now am filled with a feeling of disbelief. I gathered my
things, managing to whack the Prince in the elbow with the door on my way out
of the gym. (When I later saw him carrying a giant Hercules club I was glad he
didn’t carry a grudge.)
I stripped off my armour and changed, finding
that my hip bruise was now the size of my extended hand and deep black, and had
a smaller cousin lower down; another spotted the side of my knee.
After the other authorizations were done, the
fighters went to classes and a fighters moot, while we Chreaggers went out into
the sun. Mahault had b rought her
armour so she and Thorfinna sparred while the rest of us lounged and talked.
While we were outside Brandt arrived and
someone (I think it was Mahault) said we should pretend I didn’t pass. So
instinctively I threw the water bottle in my hand against the wall and stomped
inside.
As Brandt joined the group he asked what was
wrong and was told that I hadn’t authorized b ecause
I had lost my temper. Apparently, Brandt’s face fell in and he chased me down,
patting my back and consoling me, telling me there was always next time.
I couldn’t help smiling as I told him everyone
was joking. His face went blank for a second, then, as I said I had passed, a
great smile broke out as he crushed me in a hug.
We spent the rest of the early afternoon
hanging out together, Brandt joining in the sparring.
By the time the other fighters came outside,
Thorfinna was spent and we went home and slept and slept.
We’re still sleeping.
It was tough, but one more hurdle has been
crossed. (I just have to get my shield work as good as Thorfinna’s, so I don’t
get hit on that hip anymore!)
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