THE FOLLOWING WEEK is a blur of activities which dispel Zakkai's notions of being a caged bird in the Rukisu base. To the contrary, if asked to fly the coop now, he will offer a stiff refusal. Every day unveils some new knowledge or deeper understanding of an idea he had thought himself an expert on.

For his first two days as an initiate, he primarily repeats sword drills under Elder Okafor's instruction. Using wooden weapons, the two practice rudiments of western-style swordsmanship. This ceaseless repetition of the basics proves irritating at times, but bit by bit, the diagonal slashes and sequences of attack become natural in the boy's hands. Footwork is fairly comparable between Zafanyan and Esrayan styles, though in the east, one will more often lean away from the fight, whereas these westerners prefer to lean into it.

Leaving these one-on-one sessions behind for the rest of the week, Okafor conducts the rest of his lessons in a group setting with the other initiates, ten of them in all. He lines them up in the practice chamber, demonstrates a concept, and orders them to imitate. Then he works his way down the row and critiques their execution. He seldom praises, though when he does, it is like striking gold. No, Okafor is a teacher whose satisfaction may also be known simply by him not saying a word.

Ever the analyst, Zakkai evaluates his fellow initiates over time. Rafi is clumsy, but eager to learn. Okafor spends much time correcting his form or fixing the angle of his blade, but once he does perfect on the instruction, he never reverts to his previous blunders. Jabari is aggressive and appears to learn faster, but often falls back on old habits. He vexes Okafor on many an occasion.

Ejike and Zakkai stand side by side on Okafor's own orders. They compete for their teacher's coveted praise, leering at one another all the while. Ejike is faster, but Zakkai is more precise. Zakkai's footwork always matches the instruction, but in mirroring the movement of their instructor's blade, he turns himself around at times. Ejike attempts at many points to add more steps to the drill they have been ordered to practice, only to earn a stiff reprimand.

As promised, Okafor also begins instructing Zakkai on blacksmithing, usually in the cool of either the morning or evening. Their first lesson, he learns little, as the elder simply has him carry a heavy sack of charcoal to the forge and afterward teaches him how to set the fire ablaze. It is Okafor and Rafi who do the work while Zakkai watches from the bellows, keeping the flame angry enough to make the metal malleable.

That first day, they create three spearheads, Rafi mostly using a pair of lengthy tongs to hold the workpiece in place over the anvil, and Okafor hammering molten iron into shape. Every time Zakkai leaves the workshop, his ears throb from the pounding noise, and his arms ache from working the bellows, but one day, he hopes to take Rafi's place as the assistant, at least.

On another occasion, Okafor brings Ejike into the mix. The task for the day is to fashion a hundred arrowheads. Again, Zakkai works the bellows and Rafi assists the master blacksmith. Ejike has been brought in to take the finished workpieces off the anvil to clear space, cooling each arrowhead in a vat of water before lining them up off to the side.

The fourth or fifth day of the week—as events begin to blend together at this point—Okafor fetches Zakkai to sharpen a batch of weapons. Three swords, a battle axe, a pair of daggers, and a strange weapon as long as a spear, but comprised of half shaft, half slender blade. It is a cutting implement, but lacks the heft of an axe and the maneuverability of a sword. Setting these weapons on a table in the corner of the practice chamber, Okafor observes the other students sparring with wooden swords, remarking that soon, Zakkai will be ready to join them.

Sharpening is quite a straightforward process. Okafor demonstrates on a dagger. He takes a sharpening stone, wets it, and drags the flat side of the blade across several times. Flipping it, he repeats the process, and using his thumb, he tests the result. Explaining that a properly honed edge should sing when he plucks lightly with his thumb, he scrapes a few more times.

When satisfied with the edges on either side of the dagger, Okafor instructs Zakkai on polishing, another easy operation. A very light sanding of the face with a leather-backed sanding sheet, and then he uses a cloth to apply a clear solution which restores shine to the metal, and according to the elder, also protects it from rust.

Zakkai first practices on the second dagger, slowly working through the steps until Okafor is satisfied, and then he picks up the first of the three swords.

"Careful with that one," he warns. "That is Great Elder Riuki's weapon."

The youth had already been admiring the sword, and this further knowledge only enhances that effect. Its broad blade bears a far darker hue than any sword he has seen before, and by the many nicks in its edge, he can see it has seen its share of action. The hilt is also stunning, a pair of sharply curved quillons jutting out like the horns of a buffalo and the hand hold wrapped in striking white leather, most likely cowhide. In the place of a pommel, a heliodor gemstone flashes golden light and forms a sort of spike at the end.

Zakkai breathes deeply. "Do you truly trust me with this?"

"If I did, I would have walked away," Okafor says with a smile. "Treat it with care, but you will do fine. After all, as a future Bladesman, your responsibility will be to maintain the weapons of all Rukisu."

"I had thought Bladesman and Rukisu were two names for the same group of warriors, but you seem to be making a distinction. Am I mistaken?"

"You are not. The Rukisu are comprised of five cells. The Bladesmen are one such cell."

Zakkai carefully drags the Great Elder's blade across his sharpening stone after dousing it with more water. "What are the other cells called?"

"The Queen's Guard, the Herdsmen, the Healers, and the Librarians."

"And how do their duties differ from ours?"

"The Queen's Guard is directly responsible for her protection, even though we all serve that function when called to do so. The Herdsmen maintain the royal flock, keep the Rukisu's horses cared for, and serve as our main cavalry unit. The Healers look after our welfare, and the Librarians are our scholars."

"We are the teeth of the Rukisu, then."

Okafor corrects the angle of Zakkai's sharpening movement. "In a sense, yes. All warriors one would be foolish to trifle with, but distinct in our domestic duties."

Zakkai nods in acknowledgement, but says no more. He continues sharpening Riuki's blade and then plucks his thumb gently on the edge as Okafor did. It emits a tinking sound but sings no song, so he moves to swipe a few more times.

"Let me see that," Okafor says, interrupting his progress and then testing it with his thumb. "This is sharp enough. I forged Riuki's weapon out of a heavier alloy. It will not ring the same, but the feel is right."

"I had thought my arms were simply weak, but that explains it. You built this sword, then?"

Okafor snorts, eyes growing distant. "I did, after he destroyed his old one attempting to pry his way into a detention compound. I promised then to create a weapon he could not break."

"He must have been rather ashamed of that blunder."

"Thankfully, Riuki can laugh at himself. Those were exciting times."

"How long have you known him?" Zakkai takes up the scuffing pad.

"Must have been thirteen ... no, fourteen years ago now. He took me under his wing and finally gave me a purpose in life. The only good thing I had done before then was learn to work with metal."

"That came in handy here, no doubt."

"Especially considering Riuki commanded the Bladesmen at the time and knew nothing of blacksmithing," Okafor says, shaking his head. "He was so useful on the battlefield that the queen kept him there. He never had a chance to learn the other half of his duties."

"How long ago did you take his spot, then?"

"Seven or eight years ago, must have been. When we drove T'kalla back to the north side of the river and the war ended, our previous Great Elder stepped down. The queen promoted Riuki in his place. I had been his second in command over the Bladesmen by that point, so I stepped up as well."

"Who is your second in command, then?"

"My first student, now-Elder Adewale Folabi. I will formally introduce you soon, but he is currently out on a scouting mission."

Now Zakkai perks up, having been starved of any updates on the situation to the west. "Are we at war, then?"

"The queen is moving slowly. The Kalguri are no threat to her, so there is no hurry. N'graza is being fortified with two battalions lead by the king and one of our Battlemasters. Elders Folabi and Mwangi are scouting out Mejanno to determine our optimal strategy to retake the city."

"Why have they kept you here, though? Would you not be best suited for the front lines, leading the charge against those savages?"

"The opinion of the council is that I ought to focus on raising up a new batch of warriors," Okafor says, slightly bitter. "The Rukisu are not as strong as they should be."

"How is that?"

"Those of us who have seen much battle are getting older. The younger Rukisu have come up in a time of peace. Many of them will perish when faced with a determined enemy. Riuki has every faith I know a worthy fighter when I see one, so I must cultivate a crop of them."

"Well, you know I will not disappoint you." Zakkai says, still sanding the dark blade.

"I pray not."

The youth considers finally questioning his teacher on the unfulfilled prophecy he has heard spoken of, but Okafor has further instruction on the sanding and polishing in front of them, and the opportunity is swept away. Riuki's weapon only emits a dull sheen, but its beauty is undeniable. If any weapon is unbreakable, it must be that one.

Focusing on swordsmanship again, Okafor spends the final two days of the week in dedicated instruction again. Zakkai yearns to execute his drills faster and train harder, but the elder insists he keep his movements slow and perfect each angle of attack. Speed comes with time, he says. Here and there, he allows a sparring match or two to demonstrate the techniques in action.

Then, on the last day of the week, Okafor concludes their lesson with thirteen words Zakkai has been impatiently waiting to hear.

"Well done. Tomorrow, I will allow you to begin sparring with your peers."