Downfall of the Curse

by Deborah Grace White

  Lady Yasmin placed her sword carefully on a nearby bench and pulled out the same dagger she had produced in Lucy’s room the night before.

  Without a word, Lucy removed her own weapon from its sheath and adopted a fighting stance. She was vaguely aware of Cody, watching her critically from the sidelines, his arms crossed over his chest in a characteristic gesture. But her attention was focused on her opponent, sizing up the taller, stronger woman as they began to circle.

  Lucy attacked first, slashing out swiftly toward Lady Yasmin’s blade arm. The Thoranian countered the swipe easily, taking a step backward as she blocked Lucy’s blade. Recognizing it as a feint, Lucy stepped back as well, raising her blade to intercept the subsequent lunge from her opponent.

  “Nice,” said Lady Yasmin, flashing an appreciative smile before once again adopting an expression of great focus.

  Lucy didn’t respond, determined not to become distracted. Her eyes skimmed over Lady Yasmin, looking for an opening, then her blade flashed out again. Steel locked on steel, the older woman’s superior strength coming into play as they pushed against each other. In a sudden motion, Lady Yasmin disengaged her blade.

  Lucy didn’t hesitate, raising her other arm and letting her metal arm guard take the force of her opponent’s attack. Despite the fact that they were using real blades, Lady Yasmin wasn’t holding back. Lucy took it as a compliment.

  With a grunt, she brought her arm down, throwing off the other knife as she moved her feet in a semi-circle. Cody was now in her line of sight, but she didn’t take her eyes from Lady Yasmin.

  With lightning speed, she stabbed her blade toward the other woman’s torso, trusting in her opponent’s obvious skill to prevent an injury.

  Her instinct didn’t fail. Lady Yasmin countered the attack, and almost before she knew what was happening, Lucy found herself being driven backward. Her dagger flashed frantically, staving off the older woman’s repeated attacks, but she knew her opponent had the advantage.

  Lucy didn’t stop to think, shifting her weight to one leg as she dropped into a crouch, and thrusting the other leg out in front of her. She had her foot between Lady Yasmin’s feet before the other woman knew what was happening. Sweeping her leg out she succeeded in throwing the older woman off balance, although it wasn’t enough to bring her down.

  Lucy sprang to her feet, ready to pursue her attack, but Lady Yasmin recovered quickly enough to counter the lunge. Lucy disengaged her blade neatly, but could see no opening to renew her assault.

  “That was good, Lucy,” said Cody unexpectedly, stepping forward. “But you left yourself vulnerable here.”

  The two women lowered their blades, both of them breathing hard as Cody critiqued Lucy’s performance.

  “That was a neat trick with your foot,” said Lady Yasmin when Cody was finished. “I haven’t seen that one before.”

  “In that case, I’m impressed you stayed on your feet,” said Lucy ruefully. “I can’t count the number of times I ended up on my backside when Cody decided to teach me that one.”

  Cody chuckled. “It was good for you to be humbled. You’d just entered that unbearable phase of youth when you thought you knew everything.”

  Lucy gave Lady Yasmin a long-suffering look. “It’s awful having a trainer who’s known you since infancy.”

  “Yes, your lot is very hard,” said Cody dryly. “Now swords.”

  Lucy groaned internally, but she knew better than to protest. Lady Yasmin had much more reason to complain about Cody bossing her around, but she didn’t seem to mind, retrieving her sword readily enough.

  Lucy took the sword Cody offered her, one she had frequently trained with. He obviously had been expecting her this morning, or he wouldn’t have brought the blade. It was far too petite a weapon for him to fight with.

  She raised the sword in front of her, running over the footwork in her mind. Her dagger always felt like an extension of her arm, something she could control and manipulate with ease. But swords were harder, clumsier.

  Lady Yasmin made no move to raise her weapon, eyeing Lucy’s thoughtfully. “Would you like to try one like mine?” she asked. “I think you’ll find it easier to manipulate.”

  Lucy lowered her weapon, regarding her opponent’s sword with interest. She hadn’t immediately noticed, but Lady Yasmin’s blade was not like hers. Not only did it look lighter, but it was curved, forming a slim crescent.

  “Is that what most Thoranian swords look like?” she asked curiously.

  Lady Yasmin shrugged one shoulder, inclining her head to Lucy’s weapon. “We train to fight with that type of blade as well.” She tossed her weapon lightly from one hand to the other. “But this is a more popular choice. You should try it.”

  She retrieved another weapon from the wall, similar in size and shape to hers. Lucy took it eagerly, noting with pleasure that it was as light as it looked.

  Lady Yasmin wasted no time, instructing Lucy on the differences in this type of sword fight. She was a capable teacher, and in no time at all she and Lucy were attempting a practice bout, watched critically by Cody.

  They fought in silence for a couple of minutes, sweat standing out on both their brows. Lucy very quickly warmed to the new weapon. Lady Yasmin was as capable a teacher as Cody, and her instructions soon had Lucy getting a feel for the blade. She felt the familiar rush of pleasure that came from success in training. She could become good with this weapon, she was sure of it.

  But proficiency was still many hours of practice away. The bout required Lucy’s full attention, and it took a moment for her to notice that Cody had moved away, challenged to spar with some Thoranian man whom Lucy hadn’t met.

  She tried not to become distracted, but she couldn’t help feeling relieved that Cody wasn’t going to be criticizing her fighting later. She returned her attention to Lady Yasmin, losing herself in the familiar rhythm of thrust, deflect, retreat. In spite of her exhaustion, she could feel the energy coursing through her limbs, that buzz that only a truly challenging fight could bring. And it certainly was a challenging fight. Even with her full focus, and the delightful lightness of the weapon in her hands, it was only a matter of minutes before the older woman succeeded in disarming her.

  Lucy smiled as she conceded the match. “I like this blade,” she said, turning it over in her hand to examine it more closely. She sighed. “But even so, I don’t think the sword will ever be my strongest weapon. It’s a shame, because it’s so common. I don’t know about here, but in Kyona, most men wear swords as a matter of course. I mean the wealthy ones, obviously,” she clarified, still breathing heavily as she stretched out her stiff arms.

  “It’s the same here,” acknowledged Lady Yasmin. “Although archery is also favored by many.” She watched Lucy for a moment, a small smile on her face. “You’re better than you think you are, you know. You hold yourself up against an unfair example. Cody is an extremely good fighter.” She glanced at the man in question, now fully engaged in his own bout on the other side of the room. “You’ll probably never be as skilled with a sword as he is, but by general standards, you’re a very good fighter. And you picked up the subtleties of that new blade incredibly quickly.”

  “Thank you,” said Lucy, looking at Cody as well. “Cody’s been pushing me hard for years, so it’s nice to think it’s paid off.”

  The noblewoman smiled. “You’re fortunate to have such a dedicated teacher. I never had that advantage. Thoranians aren’t as uptight in their expectations as Balenans, but it’s still uncommon for women to spend as much time learning to fight as I have. It’s taken a fair bit of determination for me to reach this level.”

  “I can see you have gone to great efforts,” said Lucy, eyeing the other woman with respect.

  Lady Yasmin acknowledged it as she replaced her weapon. “Your training gear is interesting, by the way,” she added. “Greater mobility than mine, but you’ll get hot fighting in that material in our climate.”

  “I already am,” said
Lucy ruefully, trying to surreptitiously sponge sweat off her neck. “I’m not used to the heat here, or in Balenol. The air is so heavy.” She eyed the other woman’s outfit jealously. It was more closely fitted than the clothes Lucy had previously seen her in, but still not as tight as Lucy’s own training clothes. Although the fabric was a bit heavier than general Thoranian garb—presumably for modesty on such form-fitting garments—it was still light compared to Kyonan clothing.

  Lady Yasmin chuckled. “The humidity does take some getting used to. My home, in the north, is much more arid than here, where we’re so close to the jungle.” She sighed wistfully. “You can really breathe out there, close to the sea.”

  Lucy looked at her curiously. “Why do you spend so much time here in Thirl if you miss it so much?”

  Lady Yasmin’s expression became serious at once, and she cast a glance around them before responding. “Because there’s trouble brewing here, and no one else seems to be doing anything to prevent it. Lucy…” She hesitated, and Lucy nodded encouragingly.

  “It’s all right. Why do you think I’m here? There’s no audience now, you can speak freely.”

  Lady Yasmin regarded her shrewdly. “Your mind is as sharp as your blade, Luciana,” she said. “I did want to speak to you alone. I know you didn’t like me asking about the nature of your connection with Rasad.” Lucy opened her mouth, but the other woman held up a hand, forestalling her.

  “And I’m not going to ask you about it now. I’m not going to ask you to tell me anything. I’ll talk, and you can make of it what you like.” She took a deep breath. “Rasad is up to something, I’m certain of it. But I don’t know the extent of it, and I’m never going to find out through direct means. He knows we’re suspicious of him, and he’s a careful man. But he’s taken you under his protection, in some form or another. You might have a chance to discover things that we can’t.”

  Lucy frowned. “Are you asking me to spy on Rasad and report back to you?”

  “I didn’t say that,” said Lady Yasmin quickly. “I just said that you might have opportunities we don’t have.” She looked troubled as she again glanced around to make sure they weren’t being overheard. “I’m not asking you to tell me anything. I’m just…encouraging you to be smart about who you trust, and not to waste any chances you might have to gain information. What you do with any information you learn is entirely up to you.”

  Lucy was silent, thinking over the noblewoman’s words. “Look,” she said at last. “I think you overestimate my position with Rasad. I doubt I’m going to be able to—”

  “Good morning ladies. I see my idea of a quick training session before breakfast wasn’t exactly original.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The familiar voice made Lucy jump, and she turned with some consternation to see Eamon emerging from behind one of the smooth stone pillars. She relaxed as she took in his open posture and friendly smile as he looked at the two women. Nothing could more surely convince her that he hadn’t overheard that they were speaking about Rasad, and Lucy’s level of relationship to the Thoranian advisor.

  “Your Highness,” said Lady Yasmin, dipping into a curtsy. Eamon inclined his head to the noblewoman, but his eyes were on Lucy. She dipped into a small curtsy as well, partly for appearances, but mainly to hide the flush on her face. Eamon had been in official meetings all the previous afternoon. The last time she had spoken with him, she had ended up daydreaming about their kiss in the forest. It was hard to look him in the eye.

  “Early morning is a popular time to train here,” Lady Yasmin pushed on, coming to Lucy’s rescue. “Before the heat of the day sets in.”

  “Very sensible,” said Eamon pleasantly. “Although I admit I wasn’t thinking about that. I just thought this might be my only opportunity to get some exercise in, since I’ll be in meetings most of the day.”

  “Yes, I heard that trade negotiations started yesterday,” said Lady Yasmin politely. “How was the afternoon’s meeting?”

  “It was more of an opportunity to meet one another than an actual negotiation,” said Eamon. He gave a sudden chuckle. “Some of the advisors showed more interest in Valoria than in Kyona. I would be alarmed if I wasn’t pretty sure I know the reason.”

  Lady Yasmin gave him an inquiring look, and he chuckled again.

  “They asked Prince Kincaid and Princess Jocelyn a lot of questions that were only very loosely connected to matters of trade. I’m fairly certain they were trying to find out how much truth there is to the stories that Kincaid and Joss went traveling across the kingdom with a dragon.”

  Lucy hid a smile as she remembered the hopeful speculation of the Balenan noble girl who thought that the Kyonans had come to offer some kind of dragon alliance to their southern neighbors. It seemed a similar rumor was circulating in Thorania.

  Eamon’s voice turned thoughtful. “Dragons are pretty widely recognized in the North Lands now. But I guess here in the South Lands, where no one has actually seen one, the rumors might feel removed enough for people to doubt if they’re true.”

  “Yes,” said Lady Yasmin, curiosity burning in her eyes. “Not everyone believes the stories.”

  “Well they’re true,” said Lucy emphatically, thinking of her unnerving dream encounter with the dragon-ruler. “And,” she turned to Eamon a little indignantly, “while Joss and Kincaid may have been the ones to most recently travel with one, Valoria can’t lay claim to the dragons. It was your parents and my father who first rediscovered them, and it’s Kyona that has a centuries-long connection to the dragon colony.”

  “True,” agreed Eamon, seeming pleased at her possessive way of speaking of their kingdom. “But I didn’t like to bring that up, since I’m still trying to figure out whether that will make Thorania more or less eager to increase diplomatic relations with us.”

  Lady Yasmin looked a little awed by the conversation, but she smiled at the prince’s light-hearted tone. “I suppose that depends how friendly the dragons are.”

  “They mostly keep to themselves if the truth be told,” said Eamon absently, his eyes on the weapon still in Lucy’s hand. “That’s an interesting sword.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “But I thought you preferred your dagger, Lucy.”

  Lucy smiled in spite of herself. “You have a good memory. But I can be versatile.”

  “I know it,” said Eamon, returning her smile. “And it has been a while, hasn’t it? When we were talking about training together yesterday, it made me realize just how long it is since we did.” He frowned slightly. “Months, maybe more.”

  “A couple of years, actually,” said Lucy dryly. He really hadn’t noticed. And she thought she’d been so successful in rewriting her reputation at court.

  “As long as that?” Eamon said, startled.

  “No time like the present,” prompted Lady Yasmin, who had been watching their interaction with a measuring expression. “Luciana and I were just finishing up, anyway.”

  “No, it’s fine, Lady Yasmin,” said Lucy quickly, her face more flushed than ever. “There’s no need to—”

  “Come on, Lucy,” said Eamon, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Don’t be scared. We can spar with daggers instead of swords, if you like, so that you won’t be completely crushed by me.”

  Lucy gave a gasp of outrage, unable to help rising to the bait. “How generous of you, Your Highness. With such an offer, I’ll just have to overcome my fear.”

  “Excellent,” said Eamon, shedding the light jacket he was wearing. Any jacket was ridiculous in this heat, but it was probably part of his ceremonial garb. His non-sword arm was still neatly bandaged—reminding Lucy of the knife wound she had almost forgotten about, given how smoothly he seemed to be recovering from it. She knew him better than to suggest he shouldn’t be sparring because of the injury. And it must have been shallower than it had appeared at first, because it didn’t seem to be limiting his movements much.

  Lucy didn’t give him time to warm up. With the jacket off, the st
rong lines of his chest could be seen all too clearly through his training tunic. She hadn’t seen him in such casual clothing since they were much younger, and she figured a quick offense was the best way to avoid getting distracted by how much more muscled he seemed to have become.

  She discarded the borrowed sword and produced her dagger in a flash, advancing on him before his own weapon was out of its sheath.

  “I see you don’t plan to fight fair,” Eamon said, a grin on his face as his blade appeared in his hand as if by magic. The clang of metal bounced off the stone walls as he deflected her thrust.

  “Never,” Lucy said, grinning back in spite of herself as she retreated a couple of paces. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lady Yasmin move away, joining Cody who had just finished his bout. Returning her attention to her own fight, Lucy hid a smile. She suspected the older woman had intercepted Cody intentionally, as a favor to Lucy, and she was grateful.

  The two combatants circled each other carefully, measuring with their eyes. There was a reason Lucy didn’t want Cody, or anyone else, watching their match. Fighting Eamon wasn’t like fighting anyone else. It was genuinely difficult not to become distracted, both by the necessity of letting her eyes rove over every inch of him looking for an opening, and by the awareness that he was examining her whole figure in just such a way. Lucy had once been good at tuning out her emotions in order to fight smart when sparring with the prince, but it had been far too long, and she was out of practice.

  And somehow, in those intervening years, he had gone from the romanticized focus of her girlish fancies to a man, fully grown and undeniably captivating, even when she was annoyed with him.

  He lunged forward with lightning speed, and she pushed her wildly swirling thoughts down ruthlessly, letting instinct take over as she defended against the attempt on her fighting arm.

  She twisted her blade in a complicated flick she had perfected through hours of practice with Cody. To her own surprise, she succeeded in making a shallow slash across Eamon’s blade hand, the prince not drawing back quickly enough.