The Golden Fool (Tawny Man, #2)

by Robin Hobb

‘Enough!’ I thought he intended for us to pause and breathe. Instead, he lowered the tip of his blade to touch the ground and announced, ‘I think that you have come back to what you used to be. Whatever that was, Tom.’ ‘I don’t understand,’ I said after a moment of watching him blowing. He dragged in a deeper breath. ‘When first we began to whet our blades on one another, I felt you were a fighter trying to recall what it was to be a fighter. Now you simply are. You’ve stepped back into your old skin, Tom Badgerlock. I can keep up with you, but only that. And full glad will I be to continue to sharpen my skills against you. But if you want a true challenge to your skills, or someone to teach you something new, you’ll have to look beyond Wim now.’ And then he transferred his blade to his left hand and stepped forward to clasp hands with me. I felt a surge of warmth throughout my whole body. It had been years since I had felt a glow of pride such as that, and yet it was not for myself, but that this veteran fighter saw fit to honour me with such words. I went from the practice courts still bearing every problem that I had brought there with me, but buoyed with the idea that perhaps I possessed the wherewithal to face them.