Dojo Darelir, the School of Xenograg the Sorcerer

One Weapon Fighting Against Two

After a brief ritual salutation, Marangan’s student came at me. He was using two sticks, wielding them in a series of complex patterns that made it difficult to judge potential angles of attack. I engaged my opponent cautiously, then backed out of range again and again as I assessed his skills.

Most times in the Japanese arts, you’re going up against a single weapon. They have a preference in Japan for the commitment this engenders. But, of course, it also tends to create a flaw in your training. After all, the old samurai carried a long and a short sword. What if an opponent used them both?

There are varieties of double-handed weapon systems in the Japanese arts. Miyamoto Musashi was famous for his nito style, using long and short blades simultaneously. And you occasionally run up against people in a kendo dojo who use it today. As a matter of fact, Yamashita would sometimes insist that I watch these people and train with them. Not to adopt their style—”the road to perfection is steep enough carrying one weapon, I think, Professor”—but to learn how to combat it.

And what had I learned? Basically that if you’ve got one weapon and the other person has two, you’re in for a rough ride. And the only way to beat them is to use an attack that is so precise, well timed, and focused that it cuts through the cloud of uncertainty that the opponent has created. And that’s not even it. You have to feel the opponent’s pattern in your gut and then when it happens—if it happens—your response snaps out like an electric spark, almost independent of your control.

You just have to hope you don’t get pounded to death while you’re waiting for the spark.

Tengu, Chapter 15