Wilhelm stood at ease in the gym at his lab. He'd been in the lab for days and realized he'd been ignoring his physical needs. After eating and cleaning himself up he decided he could use a good sparring match with Shankar. It had been some time it was best he not let his skills get rusty. Especially if he wished to continue visiting the gear.

 

His jacket and waist coat hung from pegs on the wall. A stiff leather vest over a canvas shirt had replaced his usual stylish clothing. In his hand was a black shafted cane with a silver wire wrapped grip. He stretched slowly and got ready. Across from him Shankar walked in and gave a small wave before tossing his coat and vest onto a chair. Soon after his shirt followed. A quick look reminded Wil all to well of just who Shankar truly was. The scars crisscrossing his body told much more then any words he ever spoke.

 

It had been right after he'd left America that he'd first met the man he called Shankar. They'd met when he'd toured India and decided to spend a week in Delhi. In the market he'd seen him for the first time. Very few would stand near him and a wide berth was offered him. He was not an impressive looking man. No larger then many of his compatriots. Something about his eyes though reminded him of the soldiers he'd met during his time in the army. The ones who had done their duty but would forever be haunted by the memories of that duty. Wil seen him several times before running into him at a market stall and introducing himself. Though they talked several times there was no hint of who Shankar was. It wasn't until Wil noticed the distinctive knife Shankar had at his lower back that he began to understand. Shankar was not just another Indian but was indeed one of the feared Gurkhas. The indomitable warriors of Nepal that no regiment wished to see against them. The stories of the bravery and ferocity were legendary.

 

It was close to the end of his week in Delhi that Wil asked Shankar what it was he did. All he would say was that he had left his last employment but finding another had proven difficult. Realizing the worth of the man Wilhelm hired him on the spot to work as his man. Butler and servant. Bodyguard but only in the most desperate of situations. Shankar agreed. While he was friendly it was clear that Shankar would do things his own way.

 

It had been over a decade since that day. Still he valued Shankar's presence. The man was indomitable and never blinked an eye at any of Wilhelm's work. He'd proven himself time and time again. He kept the house immaculate, cooked quite well, and had, more then once, been instrumental in keeping Wil safe. He had also made sure that Wilhelm's skill with blade and pistol never wavered by insuring weekly practices.

 

It was then that their practice commenced. Shankar wielding a simple fencing blade while Wil pulled the blade free from the shaft of the cane. It took all of Wilhelm's skill to defend himself from Shankar. The man's attacks were fast and highly accurate. He could change the angle of attack as fast as a thought. Blocking and swatting away the strikes kept Wil on his toes. Using the blade as well as the shaft he had to continue to move and try to circle as Shankar kept up his attacks. It was only for the briefest of openings that Wil would attempt to strike. Quick thrusts or slashes in hopes of turning the tide. None came close to striking as Shankar would dance away as if he were practicing some complicated waltz. Using both shaft and blade Wil would advance trying to get inside and still he got no where near the target. The game ended with the quickness it had started. Shankar had leapt forward, drawing his kukri with his off hand to swat both blade and shaft to the side and giving a quick thrust to the chest of Wilhelm.

 

Wil laughed heartily and nodded. He clapped Shankar's shoulder with a grin. "Yet again I fall to your skill Shankar. Thank you my friend!"

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