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want you to hit each of those dangling sheets of metal, then get out of the way as quickly as you can.”
    “Okay,” the man replied.
    Seh heard five distinct
clangs
, and the moment he saw the man’s shadowy form hurry off to one side, he sprang into action. He rushed forward, swinging his iron-tipped spear in a wide swath, smashing three of the pots in dramatic fashion on the first pass. He felt the satisfying
thunk
as the clay vessels exploded, and registered the distinctive
hiss
of sand flying through the air.
    He keyed in on the faint tones emitted by the two remaining metal sheets, and he went after them with all the focus of a kung fu master. He thrust the speartip at one of the pots, shattering it. Then he pulled his spear back as though to smash the remaining pot, but instead snapped his right foot forward, shouting, “Ki-ya!”
    It was a direct hit. The ball of his foot connected with the final pot, and the pot erupted, sending a shower of hardened clay fragments and sand in every direction as the metal sheet dropped to the ground.
    Seh landed on his knees for show, his spear held high over his head. He jumped to his feet, bowed quickly to the line of men, and began to dust himself off.
    Several of the recruits murmured their approval. The joker scoffed. “I’ll be sure to remember this lesson if I’m ever blindfolded and attacked by a troop of killer flowerpots.”
    “Is there something you would like to discuss?” Seh asked the joker.
    “Yeah,” the joker replied. “I want to know why you are wasting our time. Breaking pots serves no purpose.”
    “That is not true,” Seh said. “Those pots are the same diameter as a human head, and they are hung at different levels to represent opponents of different heights. The force required to shatter one when it is filled with sand is the same amount of force necessary to crack a human skull. It is important practice.”
    The joker laughed. “Pots don’t fight back, young man. People do. People also move around. A person would simply get out of your way.”
    Seh clenched his teeth. “Would
you
like to try it?”
    “Attack some harmless flowerpots?”
    “No. Attempt to get out of my way.”
    The joker’s tone grew serious. “Are you saying that you want to fight me, boy?”
    “I prefer the term
sparring,”
Seh said. “Unless you are afraid, old man.”
    “Old man!” the joker roared. “I’ll show you!”
    Seh heard the man’s heavy boots begin to pound across the ground in his direction. It did not surprise him that the joker acted so spontaneously. In fact, he had been counting on it. Embarrassing this man here and now would earn Seh the respect of the entire group.
    Seh sank into a deep Horse Stance and gripped his spear with two hands, holding the wooden shaft parallel to the ground with the metal tip facing forward. He held the shaft’s center balance point tight in his left hand at waist level and positioned his right hand near the blunt back end.
    He had no idea whether the joker had a weapon, but was certain that he would prevail as long as his opponent did not carry pistols. Seh heard metal unsheathed, and from the sound determined that the man possessed a broadsword of moderate length. No problem.
    The joker continued his charge, and when Seh could hear the man’s intense breathing, he knew that his opponent was close enough.
    Seh struck. He kept his left hand locked and thrusthis right hand downward in a large half-circle. This caused the tip of the spear to rise up in an opposing half-circle, heading directly for the joker’s face. The joker chopped down at the spear tip with his broadsword, just as Seh expected he would, and the broadsword made contact with the spear tip, redirecting the spear tip down toward the ground.
    As the spear tip continued its downward motion, Seh thrust it forward, accurately visualizing the spear passing between the man’s legs. Seh clamped the spear shaft in his armpit and rolled to one side, yanking