Chapter 13
What you hear is the sound of your own breathing, heavy from having an opponent who pushes your limits, light when confronting someone of less skill, or balanced and steady when evenly matched.
Michael was breathing heavily, his total focus on his opponent, his vision both obscured and enhanced by the limited view through the tightly woven mesh.
It was in a word, exhilarating.
There are few places in life where you feel purely alive. Here, watching his opponent feign left and try to come in underneath his guard, Michael snarled, enjoying the primal feeling of life as he swung the thin blade of the foil in a quick arc, deflecting the attack and readying for his own was one of those places.
Aside from rowing, the other activity that consumed Michael's attention during high school and college was fencing.
As with rowing it was something that got put to the side as work, schedule and life began to take up more and more time. It's sirens call remained with him however, every four years he would make a point to catch the US fencing team during the Olympics, he would slip away and watch matches at UF when he could.
It was one of those private activities that were singularly his, that would allow him to escape and find a focus not attainable in the rest of his hectic life.
............
Two days had passed since his early morning swim.
Sunday evening he, with Tera in tow, were allowed back into his home and he set about getting ready for the week, highly aware of Tera always being within close proximity, always watching him.
Class didn't start for another week, but he had a few afternoon meetings with other faculty coming up and he wanted to check out the boathouse Valerie had mentioned to see if he could get some oar time.
Sunday evening was uneventful, although there was a...tension that Michael could not put his finger on. Tera had brought a small duffle bag, installed a few makeshift alarms on the windows and doors while he made dinner.
It was interesting and a bit...disturbing having a roommate. Michael had not lived with anyone since Sasha was killed; having Tera there brought up memories and desires that he was unsure how to deal with.
They had talked some, not an ongoing conversation more sharing bits and pieces of their lives through dinner. He learned of her time in the service, her recent "retirement" and the new position on Nigel's detail.
She did not press him for details of his life, she had read the dossier on him, knew about the crash that killed his wife and child, understood that he was here trying to move on and start over from that painful moment in his life.
The evening wound down quickly, both of them exhausted after a long, energetic and confusing day.
...............
The hard press of the rounded tip of the foil on his shoulder brought a smile to his face, 'damn, not concentrating,' he thought as the referee called point.
Taking off his mask he looked across at the young man who had been his opponent and walked over to shake his hand.
"Thank you for the match, it has been a long time, I appreciate you indulging an old man," Michael said jovially.
"Old...right," John said thinking that this "old man" was one of the toughest opponents he had ever had and he was thankful that he was "rusty".
Michael turned and found Tera watching him with a small smile on her face.
For the last two hours she had watched as he systematically obliterated everyone thrown up against him. In eight 15-point matches he only lost the last one and that by 3 touches.
It was interesting watching him fence, she had of course seen fencing before, but it was not a top tier discipline in the teams so she had only a passing knowledge. Now that he had found the Oxford fencing club she wondered if he would still return to the boathouse they had found Monday morning.
............
Tera was surprised to hear Michael up and around that first morning after the incident on the bridge. It was early, about a half hour before dawn when she heard movement from the upstairs loft.
Rising and stretching the kinks out of her muscles she called up to him "kind of early isn't it."
With concern in his voice he replied "Sorry to wake you, I've never been one to sleep the morning away, I usually run first thing to get the blood pumping."
She watched as he came down the stairs, thin workout pants, cross trainers, she noted the muscles and thick but not...unruly hair of his chest as he pulled the sweatshirt down over his head.
"Let me change, I'll go with you," she said, walking towards the bathroom.
"Are you sure your up to it, maybe you should rest today," Michael said about to continue until he caught the icy look she gave him over her shoulder.
"Hopefully YOU will be able to keep up Mr. Dane," she growled as she closed the door.
Shaking his head, Michael smiled, thinking it was interesting living with someone...lethal.
The run had been easy for both of them, as both of them did not want to "wear out" the other. They ran silently, matching each other's pace, lost for awhile in the simple act of being a living being, running through the pre dawn.
Michael pulled up in front of a small building about 2 miles from his flat. "Valerie told me about this," he said to no one in particular.
Tera looked at the small building more closely, numerous oars hung from the buildings exterior walls, some intact, others halved, all with dates on them. Tera walked closer running her fingers over the smooth lacquered finish of one of the older looking oars noting the date as 1912 "Dartmouth Regatta".
"When you win a race you mount the winning oar on the boat house," Michael said.
Tera started a bit at his voice, he was close, she could feel the heat from his body just behind her as he looked over her shoulder.
"My friend Valerie told me about this place, I use to row in college and had hoped to find someplace to rent a scull," Michael said, his hand settling naturally on her shoulder as he looked closer at the oars.
