Book 6, Chapter 12: Swordplay
Leaning over to Cresida, sitting beside me in the makeshift stands, I said, “They’re leaving too much distance between them, the fighters. That’s why they’re only tapping each other’s swords. Too young, I think. Scared to engage. You see? There! The defender stepped backwards. He needed to move in on that attack, into his opponent.”
Below us, two young soldiers faced off against each other. Wearing chainmail armor down past their knees, they each hit at each other with swords. Because they wouldn’t step into combat range, they were mainly attacking the other’s weapon.
With furrowed brows, Cresida gave me a glance like I was explaining quantum physics. Then she stood up, and cupped her hands around her mouth, “Lady Sarah here thinks she can best any of you!”
“What the hell! Sit down, stop!”
The two fighters stopped, the circle of men watching and cheering them on froze, and everyone turned in our direction. The fighter on the right saying, “Come again? Ma’am?”
“The good Lady Sarah here,” she gestured at me, “would like to give you a sword lesson.”
Through tight teeth, I said, “You bitch.”
“It’s not a game for ladies!” shouted the one on the left. They all laughed.
A slightly taller, slightly older man, perhaps in his early twenties, strode out from behind the circle of his peers, spread his arms open, palms flat, saying, “Oh, but you must show us how it’s done, fairest lady.” More laughter.
Against my will, I found myself blushing out of embarrassment. And red with anger! Under my breath, I said, “You absolute bitch.” Then, ignoring her smirk, I stepped off our makeshift stand, and went over to the boys. It wouldn’t be a problem to beat any of them. Who here but me had wrestled with the gods for fun? Yet I didn’t want to expose myself, nor make a spectacle to be questioned about later.
The blond man was tall but not overly muscular, probably in his late teens or early twenties, handsome, smiling. He pulled out a large broadsword, and his voice was full of jest, “Would my lady care for this small sword?”
Trying not to roll my eyes or cock my head, I said plainly, “It’d be too heavy for me. Give me something a short man would carry. You!” I pointed at one of them, roughly my own height, and his smile dropped, “Perhaps your sword.” My anger was fading, but the annoyance was growing. I couldn’t show off or make a scene, though I was already making a scene, but, sigh, damn.
“Too heavy! She’ll beat us with a twig!” Lots of annoying laughter.
It was very tempting, and I didn’t know if I could resist. I took the smaller sword, walked into the center, held it point toward the ground in front of me, waiting.
The blond-haired man cocked his head. “Are you ready?”
“At your leisure.”
He walked toward me casually, circling around to my left. Only an idiot would do that, lift their feet up like a normal canter, each step precariously off balance. Or a man who feared nothing from his opponent, a little girl.
Knees slightly bent, I pivoted, facing him. Took a deep breath. Waiting.
He breathed in, arms tensing, about to raise his sword and I walked forward into his shoulder before he could, allowing his weight to throw me off balance. Stumbling backward, I dropped the sword to a chorus of laughter.
“Ah,” he said, bending over and picking it up, passing it to me handle first, “perhaps you’d like to try again? Come! This time, I’ll let you swing the first blow.”
Fully red in the face, despite messing up on purpose, I took it from him. “I . . . I thank you for your kindness and courtesy. You’ve taught me enough.” Pulling up the sides of my dress, I gave him a curtsy, then turned to the man who lent me his sword. I passed it back flat side toward him, and said, “Thank you, but I’m done.” I then ignored all the jeers and laughter, the endless smirking from Cresida, and left the practice area without looking back, wishing and wishing I did entirely the opposite.
***
At first, all I could think about was besting the blond over and over. Stepping on his foot, giving him a shove. Sweeping his leg with the sword and laughing as he hit the mud. Cutting off his sword arm when my thoughts took a turn for the worse.
A part of me wondered if I was wrong. Maybe I couldn’t fight. It was, after all, a new body. Less than a month old, reborn when I exited the Divine Trap and returned to this place. Lacking a man’s strength, lacking training. Maybe I was just telling myself I could fight, trying to make myself feel better for all I’d lost.
Damnit.
Only one way to find out, but the doing so seemed foolish. I was foolish. Should have kept my mouth shut. Cresida and I were not friends.
I stopped, clenched and unclenched my fists. Counted to ten. Took deep breaths, focusing on the now.
Wandering aimlessly through the camp, putting foot in front of foot, was bringing my mood back to normal. I realized, nearing the command tent, that this was actually an excellent opportunity. To get away from Cresida, do a little spying.
I couldn’t dig her for information. Despite being the captain’s wife, she didn’t know anything. That much was clear.
After a couple days of travel, we’d finally set up our large tent – or, watched soldiers set it up for us – yesterday evening. Prior, we’d just used smaller canvas tents, so putting the larger, heavier one up meant this was the army’s new staging ground.
And our more permanent housing was empty of her husband this morning. He’d stayed elsewhere. Probably most of his time away was at the command tents, but who knew? Maybe he had a lover on the side. The point was, he didn’t confide anything in her, Cresida and I couldn’t build rapport, and so my time was wasted with her.
Unless I enjoyed brushing hair, helping her into dresses, airing out the bedding, dumping out chamber pots, and bearing the brunt of her pettiness.
Horses were standing outside the tent, tied to a pole, and a guard milled about. He winked at me as I walked past, and I smiled back. No wink for him, he was missing teeth. After leaving him behind, I made a large circle, came around to the tent from the back. It wasn’t nestled against trees or anything, so I was standing in the open, or at least, between a bunch of evenly spaced-apart tents, but no one seemed to pay any attention to a little girl kneeling down and playing with rocks.
I listened.
“It’s taken a turn for the worse, I’m afraid,” said a man’s voice I was unfamiliar with. “The Laemacians have withdrawn their army and are constructing fortifications.”
“Then they fear this Eastern military?”
“It would seem so. It is the larger of the two and, I’m sorry to relay this news, they have divided in two, with one army now between us and the Laemacians, heading this way. The other fast approaches from the east.”
The captain’s familiar voice, “Have we sent messengers to them? Do we know what they want?”
Greaves suddenly stomped up to me, giving me a start. “Lady, have you fallen? Allow me to help you up.” It was a young soldier, brown eyes and thick hair to match, a smattering of cute freckles on his cheeks, offering me his hand.
I took it, trying not to look guilty. “Uhm, thank you, sir.”
The young man gave me a smile. A nice one, all teeth were present and gleaming, and in the right positions. “I thought you did rather well in the training circle.”
Heat rose up in my face, I looked down, “Ah.”
“For not having ever used a sword, that was excellent. Dweez shouldn’t have pushed you down.”
“Dweez? The blond kid? He didn’t . . .” oh, but I wanted to scream! I clenched my fingers into my left fist, and said, “I fell. He’s big. I just fell.”
Patting my hand – his were warm – he gave me a pleasant smile, “I’m not teasing you. Your footwork was good.” He gave me a knowing look, nodding, “You used to fight with your brothers? I think you could be dangerous with a little training.”
“Dangerous, huh? With just,” batting my eyes at him while thinking taking his weapons, I said, “a little training? And you are offering me lessons?”
“Why, I don’t even know your name! I’m Tonquin, but you may call me-”
“-Tonk?” I tried to step back, but for him holding my hand, not believing that I’d actually found someone named so poorly.
He looked less amused, “Quin. Tonk is what people like Dweez call me.”
“Ah. I’m an awful person. Very sorry, Quin. Listen, I, uhm, I’m a little busy.” How to tell him I didn’t care for his high school drama? Bullies, mean girls, handsome saviors, all this could just go away!
“Busy eavesdropping?” Pivoting on his left to pull alongside me, he tucked my arm into his, leading me away. Speaking in a conspiratorial voice, he asked, “And what did you learn, fairest lady?”
He’d probably have left me alone were I only seven and playing with rocks, but I guess I wasn’t as clever as I thought. Ah, well, crap. “We’re about to be trapped between two armies. They don’t see a way out of it. And they don’t know why this army is heading for us.” And I hoped, I really, really hoped, that I didn’t know the reason, either, and that reason wasn’t me.
His voice remained upbeat, “What you don’t know, and what I can tell you in secret, though you still haven’t told me your name and it pains me to remain so ignorant, is that we’re meeting up with the Laemacian army. Theirs is a force to be reckoned with! I’m told they brought no less than fifty war rhinos.”
“Yeah. No, that’s not happening. The other army’s already cut them off and the Laemacians are shoring up, digging in, that sort of thing. They’re not coming to help us. At least, for now. Uh, Sarah. Call me Sarah.”
He paused. “Call you Sarah? I’d rather call you by your real name.”
“That’s all you’re getting.”
“Are you sure about the Laemacians?”
“You pulled me away before I could learn more.”
He looked back at the command tent, paused walking, which forced me to stop, then stepped forward again, forcing me to continue, then looked at me, and said in a lowered voice, “If you’re information is accurate, we’ll know very soon.”
A war horn tore through the camp, signaling for immediate readiness. Men stopped what they were doing, other men emerged from tents. The quicker ones immediately began to pack their belongings, don their armor, check their weapons.
We froze, standing still. Unlinking his arm, he turned to face me, eyes wide open, but saying nothing.
Raised my eyebrows, but no smile for him, “I sometimes hate being right.”
“I’d best escort you back to your tent.”
“I know the way. Probably better for you to join your regiment.”
“I would have, my lady, I would have enjoyed more time with you.” He pulled my hand up to his lips.
Against my better judgement, and entirely not meaning to, I felt flustered, my eyes fluttered, and I said, “Don’t die then and that can be arranged.” I gave his hand a squeeze and watched him run off. Probably the nicest young man I’d met so far amongst this army and I regretted not giving him a cute smile.
A part of me hoped I didn’t see him again for exactly that reason.
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