Book 4, Chapter 27: Spring Blossom
Outside, the snow was melting, nearby creeks and rivers were full, and children raced twigs and small pieces of wood in the rivulets running through the cobblestones. The air was crisp and cool and fresh and I loved every moment of it.
Soon, we would be at war.
Outside the castle proper, but near the walls, Morry and I faced each other, in full plate mail, swords drawn. He thrust toward my left shoulder. Our blades rang out as I raised mine above my head, striking his in the process and moving it off target.
“Nice, Princess, very nice. I’ll make a swordswoman of you yet.” Morry backed up, lifting his visor. We were dripping sweat, despite the cool air. “Again, but this time from a position of weakness. Point your sword at my feet.”
“That’s hardly fair.”
“When’s the last time you thought life was fair?”
I pointed the blunted tip downward as he’d requested. His sword held imposingly over his head, a strong position. If I moved incorrectly, I was getting bashed. We used blunt swords and Morry was not a forgiving teacher. But I was younger.
Instead of stabbing, I shoulder rolled forward into his left foot, smashing my hilt just above his ankle, his sword hitting the ground behind me, his body falling backwards. I leapt onto his stomach, stabbing the sword into the ground beside his head.
“I . . . I got you! I can’t believe it!”
Morry grabbed my wrist holding the blade, tugged, and suddenly I was thrown onto my back, armor clinking, sword flying away. “Don’t get cocky.”
I lay there, staring at the blue sky and little fluffy clouds passing slowly overhead. “I think that was the first time. Like, ever.”
He looked annoyed as he knelt in front of me. Then he lifted up his visor, a smile broke onto his face, and he pulled me up into a sitting position. “That was good, Princess. Instead of fighting my strength, you went for my weakness. Very good.”
“Morry! If my eyes don’t deceive me, you are smiling.”
“I am not.”
“You are!”
“I don’t know how to smile.” He stood, pulling me up by my arm.
I danced around him, waving my hips around as if to hip hop, “Who beat you, who beat you, who beat you? That’s right, me!”
“I believe we will end our training session on your win.” He kicked his sword up from the ground into his hand.
“Really? You’re not going to have me try again and bash me with your sword?”
“Ending now, you’ll be overconfident next time and I can bash you without feeling guilty.”
“Uhm. I’ll just have to temper my excitement at HAVING BEATEN YOU! Woohoo!” After another triumphant jig, I went and picked up my sword.
Somehow, he managed a scowl with hints of happiness on his face and hit my behind with the flat of his blade, “Off you go, Princess, to your meeting with Etienne.”
“Yeah, Etienne.” I sighed.
“Oh? Is there something you want to tell me?”
“It’s just that, today, he wants to show me the scars. I mean the inscription. The damned symbol Bechalle cut into my back. He wants to go over it with me.”
He fully took off his helmet, sweat in his hair, face back to looking as grim as ever, “Princess, if you’re not comfortable seeing it, I’m not sure you should.”
“You’re worried I won’t be able to contain the magic? A repeat of my trip to the tower?”
Not saying anything, he tilted his head, raised his eyebrows.
“I’m better, I think I can control it now. That’s all I’ve worked on, really, for the last few months! Well, and a little cork blasting.” Burning stuff, and creating mini-tornados, but I left those unsaid.
“Unless he’s figured out what it means, I’m not sure why he needs you to see it.”
“I don’t know. He’s preparing to leave for the conclave, the wizarding school, whatever that is. They apparently have a library of these kinds of symbols. Maybe there he can figure it out.”
“Still.”
“He thinks I have unconscious knowledge of it. He, ah, believes my . . .” I paused at this time, unsure of what to say, unsure why I began this reveal in the first place. I just couldn’t shut up.
“Princess?”
“The weapons I had the smithies create. He thinks I got the knowledge of them from Bechalle’s ritual. The symbol.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Yeah, I, uh, thought up that stuff before. From reading, mainly.”
“I’m not sure you want to subject yourself to such a viewing. In front of Etienne. The last time you confronted the late duke’s memory . . .”
“Right. Yes. I burned up everything in the room. I’ve been controlling it, Morry, the energy. Pretty well, I think. Faster, too. I can shoot, I mean send, little lasers, uh, blasts much quicker now. And control the energy output better. How powerful they are, I mean.”
“If you can handle it, good. It would be bad for Etienne to see a display of what you can do.”
“Yeah.” I placed my own training sword on the rack. “I think he’s scared. Worried, I mean, worried is the right word maybe. I’m lucky he’s good at keeping secrets or they’d all be scared. All the mages. If the grand magister comes back-”
“We’ll deal with him.”
I hoped he was right, but I didn’t know how we’d manage that. Grand Magister Tye was beyond powerful. I’d need a dozen mages to protect me. But they wouldn’t, they’d side with him. I shook my head to clear these thoughts.
“Thank you for training with me today, Sir Morrentz. It was a pleasure.” I bowed.
“The pleasure is mine.” The big man bowed back. “You’re still getting taller.”
“I know, I know, it’s a pain.”
“Developing a woman’s body. A strong one.”
“Only thanks to your rigorous training.”
“No. Your dedication. Few soldiers train as often and hard as you do.”
“Yeah, yeah.” We left the courtyard, the sun heading up into the sky, yet before noon. “Straight body, straight mind.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Oh, a long time ago, from another teacher.” I found the exercise helped me control the magic. The same principles applied to martial training as magical. Drive. Focus. Intensity. I hadn’t had an uncontrolled outburst since the tower, though it was a constant worry of mine.
He laughed, “Long time ago? You’re fifteen.”
“Almost sixteen!”
“Not for a good six months.”
“You be quiet.”
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