Chapter 100: The Accident

"You what?" Zorrik said, his eyebrows creeping up.

They were two days into the sailing, and like Ra'Jeem before, Perrin had spent most of it throwing up. But now, he'd gotten used to it and was back to his old self.

"We want you to train us," the young man repeated.

"I thought Zulee was already trained? And you have your spear."

Perrin nodded. "It's more for tossing at someone, and we both know I can't do that very well. I'd probably just lose it."

Zorrik couldn't argue with that.

"And I know some Zytherian skills," Zulee added, "but I want to learn the ways of the Assassins too."

Zorrik smirked at the young men, who seemed to think a two week sea journey would be enough time to learn what had taken him decades to master. After a moment, though, he shrugged. What else did he have to do?

"If I'm going to teach you," he said, "you have to learn all of it." He raised an eyebrow and looked over at Perrin.

"Meditation?" the young man said.

"Exactly. And?"

"Forms? We never got around to forms," Perrin reminded him.

"Well, we will now. Learning them on a moving boat should be a lot of fun."

"Can we start with weapons, though?" Perrin asked, and Zulee nodded his agreement.

Zorrik sighed. "Yeah, alright. You're both too old to start training the proper way anyway."

"I'd really love to try and scimitar like Ra'Jeem's," the young man enthused.

Zorrik chuckled as he looked through the weapons locker. Then he tossed Perrin a wooden short sword.

"How about we start with this?" he quipped.

The young man looked at the practice sword, a little disappointed, but nodded.

Zorrik found another one for Zulee and then let the two of them spar as he showed them the correct stances and techniques. At first, neither of them were much to look at, but after a few days, they got the hang of it and started to improve. The Zytherians and Assassins began to take notice as they improved. They started on forms first thing in the mornings, and the other Assassins came up to join them.

Perrin and Zulee were intimidated at first, surrounded by expert men and women, but with a little encouragement and practice, they quickly improved in martial arts forms as well. It didn't hurt that the Assassins weren't used to sailing, and weren't in perfect form either.

In the end, Zorrik was grateful for the distraction and realized he was glad to have students to teach again. He'd figured that the Assassins would be through when this was all over, but watching his comrades practice made him wonder if they couldn't find a new purpose.

Unfortunately, Perrin didn't take to sailing as well as meditation and sword play. Zulee patiently instructed him on the sails and figging, which were a simple, two-sail setup. Despite his cleverness and wisdom, though, Perrin's brain couldn't get the hang of it.

The further south they sailed, the sparser the jungle became until it finally gave way to a treeless, rocky grassland. As far as anyone knew, no one lived there. Some of it had been explored, but there were few sources of water, and high cliffs made it inaccessible from the sea.

The air was growing hotter, and the seas calmed, a bad combination that made for impatience and short tempers. As Zorrik stood at the bow, hand on the rigging to steady himself, he heard a commotion behind him. He sighed and turned to see an Assassin berating Perrin. He rushed over as the big Assassin yelled in the young man's face.

Zorrik pushed him back and said, "What's going on here?"

"This young pup is trying to get us killed," the Assassin growled.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize," Perrin said.

"What are you two talking about?" Zorrik demanded.

"He untied the wrong rope," the Assassin answered and pointed up at the sails. "It's a good thing there's a knot caught in the winch or the sail would have come crashing down on us."

Zorrik nodded. "Well, we'd better retrieve that rope before the knot works its way out. Perrin..."

The young man looked up at him and then at the rope. "You want me to go up and get it?"

"It's your mistake, isn't it?"

Perrin gulped and nodded, and then hesitantly walked over to the rope ladder. He grabbed it, making sure it was taut, and then stepped on the bottom rung. Slowly, he climbed up into the rigging. It seemed to take forever, and the higher he climbed, the faster his heart beat.

When he finally reached the winch, he stopped to try and catch his breath. He could see that the knot was still holding, so he looked down for instructions. He regretted it immediately. He felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him, and he clung to the rope ladder.

"It's okay, Perrin. Just breathe," Zorrik called out.

The young man nodded and closed his eyes, trying the meditation techniques he'd been learning. It worked, and he felt his heart and breath slow. As he relaxed, though, the wind suddenly picked up. The boat lurched, his hands tore free from the ladder, and the knot slipped out of the winch.

"Look out!" Zorrik cried, and everyone on deck scrambled away from the falling sail.

"Hold on, Perrin!" he yelled up as the young man swung with the rocking boat.

Perrin yelled for him to hurry, only hanging on by a foot, tangled in the ropes.

Zorrik scurried up the ropes, while the other sailors gathered sail and rigging on the deck. When he reached Perrin, he carefully helped right him, and the two of them held on tight and caught their breath.

"Are you alright?" the Master Assassin asked.

"I think so," the young man answered with a nervous laugh. "I'd rather not do this again, though."

Zorrik ruffled his hair, and the two of them carefully climbed back down to the deck.