She tapped the back of Uly’s ankle with the sword and made him jump. Uly resisted looking down, but waited to see if he felt pain. He didn’t, so apparently she hadn’t cut him.
“No point in getting your tendons cut so you cannot walk. Boots also need to fit right. You cannot slide around in them and fight well. Footwear should not be too heavy, but should grip the ground well. Always wear protection here.” She slipped a hand between his legs and cupped him. Her grip was solid. Uly stared down into her dark eyes while Ryanac’s chuckle sounded in his ear. She still didn’t let go of him. Tressa hadn’t touched him intimately for several weeks. He doubted they would ever be lovers again. Their relationship now was one very much of friendship. It suddenly occurred to him to wonder if Markis even noticed. Her grip tightened, drawing his attention back to the moment. “Even women wear such protection if they know anything about fighting. These parts are vulnerable and tender. It does not do well to get kicked in them or have someone grab you.” She gave him a slight twist. He nodded to indicate he understood the warning, and she let go.
“Another way to tell if a fighter knows what he or she is doing is by their choice of weapon.” She looked at Ryanac.
“If you’re choosing a sword, then once grasped by the hilt, the point should just touch the ground.” Ryanac demonstrated. “However, just because you face an opponent with a sword that is longer do not assume he or” ‑‑ he glanced at Tressa ‑‑ “she does not know how to use it. They may have picked up a discarded blade if necessary. It may hinder, and you can use that. Just don’t rely on it. Don’t take anything for granted.”
“Watch a smaller fighter’s stance.” Tressa moved in front of him, her feet apart, one foot leading, knees slightly bent. Her rear foot angled away from her body. She held her upper body upright. She made leaning movements first one way then the other, but stayed erect the whole time. “Try it.”
He copied her. His weight felt centred in a direct line to the ground.
“If your opponent leans forwards, try to take advantage of it. It will throw your adversary off balance and slow movement.” She then went on to demonstrate the differences in how a shorter opponent would hold a sword. Gradually, Uly realised that this lesson was teaching him how to look for weaknesses. As Ryanac said, he could not rely on anticipation, as any movement might be a ruse, but that did not mean he should ignore the probability either.
“Someone of my height should work on a good defence, but that does not mean stand there and take every hit. He or she will, when taking the offensive, choose the moment carefully.”
“The biggest problems small fighters face is in moving backwards,” Ryanac added.
Tressa looked at Ryanac with a considering look, and then shifted her gaze back to Uly. “He’s right. I would move in an arc, never in a straight line. Fighting someone as large as Ryanac” ‑‑ she ignored his derisive snort ‑‑ “I would use my speed, and keep the curve tight. He can snort all he wants. That is how I got past his defences.”
“Plus I wasn’t taking you seriously.” He bowed his head and spread his hands. “What can I say? You had me.”
“If the fight were real, I would have injured him, if not killed him.”
A shadow seemed to flitter over Ryanac’s face, though it came from within.
“Shall we teach him what points to aim for?” Tressa asked.
“Let me.” Antal at last interrupted. He gave Tressa a small bow. “Good fighting, my lady. I was glad to witness it.”
Uly moved his gaze from one to the other, and back again. Antal’s grin was for Ryanac’s benefit, but the young man refused to look at him. Ryanac was too easy to bait sometimes, but not often. You just had to take advantage of it, and the idea that Tressa had bested him, if only in play, was too good to waste.
* * * * *
Kilan and Harton fell into step with Markis. Kilan looked eager, questioning, and a little fearful combined. Thankfully, though impetuous, he could curb his tongue at the right time. They moved towards the royal suite, but then set off down a side corridor to another private area. Finally, they came to a small door. Markis turned to Harton.
“Make sure no one enters. No matter what you may or may not hear, that also applies to you. Ryanac is the only exception.”
Harton nodded. No hesitation or curiosity showed on his face. He had served Markis’s father, and he had now promised to serve him. Markis couldn’t have been more grateful.
Inside the room, Markis told Kilan to stay where he was. He drew a key from his pocket, entered another room, and there opened a secret compartment in a heavy piece of furniture, removing a book. When he returned to the outer room, he was pleased to see that Kilan hadn’t moved. He set the book on the desk and opened it. Leaning on his knuckles, he looked at his brother, waited for his gaze to wander from the book to his face, and said, “I have something to show you. Prepare for your first lesson.”
* * * * *
Uly had gone through much of this before, but he went over it again now, practicing the basic strikes that would allow him to win almost all his fights. Of course, his opponent would likely know these moves too, and the fight he lost might be his last. He was beginning to feel slightly queasy.
During the last few months, Ryanac had trained him in most forms of weaponry but even now, weeks into Uly’s training, he would snap out the most unexpected questions, testing Uly’s memory. Now Ryanac asked Uly to list the most vulnerable areas of the body. Uly replied and as he spoke, Ryanac and Antal took turns interrupting him, adding to his knowledge.
Hamstring disables, torso for death. Then use stabs and slices to the arms and legs for injury, blood loss, and to slow them. If you managed to cut away several fingers, hands or arms, of course, the person had trouble fighting back even if the shock of it didn’t disable them directly. Despite advising protection against blows to the legs in general, Ryanac, Antal, and Tressa warned injuries below the knees were not uncommon with axes that could cut through most armour. The words circled in his mind.
Antal told him stories of people with head injuries still killing several more before they succumbed. Ryanac told him that, on the Kimber Pass, he had found a man with both legs severed. It had happened simultaneously, one stroke. He was just describing how a cut to the face, particularly above the eye, could result in blinding an opponent with blood when Uly threw down the sword and walked away.
He only moved a few paces before he fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands. He stayed that way until he felt a hand at the nape of his neck. From the size of it, it could only be Ryanac. He lowered his hands. Tressa and Antal were gone. Ryanac crouched beside him.
“It’s fine, Uly. I’m not asking you to hurt anyone.”
“You are, though.” Uly looked up at him.
“I told you, I’m teaching you in the hope that you’ll never have to use the knowledge.”
“I understand that, but…” He didn’t know how to explain, or maybe he just didn’t want to. Ryanac waited for several seconds.
“Speak truthfully.”
Uly didn’t answer. Something had changed between them. He felt close to the man, physically and emotionally as never before. “Last night, you spoke of love, and today you talk of killing in the same voice.”
“You know how many men I have killed?”
Uly shook his head.
“Neither do I. I refuse to keep count of it. I’ve only done it in times of war, to defend my people and Markis. I even refused to fight once. I didn’t agree with one particular campaign, and I still believe Markis’s father was wrong that day.”
“What happened?”
“I should have lost my rank. They should have dismissed me. Sent me home to work on the farm and possibly face charges. If a…certain captain of mine… Well, let’s just say if we hadn’t been friends, and if he hadn’t understood part of me would die if I had to fight that particular battle, I wouldn’t be where I am and who I am now.” His voice grew softer. “We Sw
ithin talk well, but like any nation, we’re only as good as those who rule us. Markis’s father wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn’t the best either. I bided my time and waited for the day Markis would take his place. Even if I couldn’t be part of it with him, I longed for that day.”
Ryanac stayed crouched, silent for just a moment before continuing. A gentle breeze stroked Uly’s face and stirred his hair. “The one battle I was proud to fight was at the Kimber Pass. We fought off a savage race that would kill children in their beds, but I took no pleasure in it. I did it because it needed doing.” He turned his face towards Uly. “That’s what I’m asking of you. I want you to know how to fight and stay in practice. I wish on the comet you will never need to use it, but I would not have you defenceless, unable to protect yourself or those you love.”
“You’re telling me to kill someone, and I’m afraid if that time ever comes, I’ll let you down.”
“No, Uly. That’s not possible. I can’t tell you to kill. I do know if you ever need to, it will be in self-defence or protecting someone you love, but I can’t make that decision for you. I just want you to know how if you have to protect yourself. I want you to have the choice.”
“What if I don’t make the choice? What if I freeze?”
Ryanac sighed. “The greatest warrior can freeze. I can’t predict what will happen any more than you can. I don’t believe it will, though. I believe your street smarts will kick in. You’re a survivor, Uly, and that includes protecting those you love.” Ryanac stared at him a few moments. “Enough for today.”
Uly nodded his agreement to both counts. “You understand why I feel ill?”
Ryanac studied him a moment, and then nodded. “I believe so. Do you want to tell me, though?”
For some reason, Uly did. He needed to say it aloud. “I don’t feel sick from the thought of hurting someone, though I feel that too. I feel sick from the thought that I now believe I could, if I had to, if they drove me to it.” Uly raised his head and gazed at the sky. “Some days, I don’t feel like me anymore. I look in the mirror, and I don’t recognise me, but it goes deeper than that. I’m different. I’ve changed.”
“You think that’s a bad thing?”
Uly looked to the other man. “Isn’t it? Am I still the person Markis fell in love with?”
A smile tugged at Ryanac’s lips. “Uly, you are very much that person. You’ve always argued that Markis is a good man. Well, so are you, and even someone forcing you to do something bad for the greater good won’t change that. Don’t you feel it’s about time that you accepted that?”
As much as Uly was grateful to hear Ryanac’s words, he still had doubts. Maybe he’d changed so much, and that was what kept Markis from asking him to wed. Maybe none of this was Ryanac’s doing.
Chapter Ten
“We told you we’d teach you the Swithin way,” Markis said, laughing. He grabbed at his queen and dragged her onto the balcony, waving at the people below. Tressa squealed and tried to pull away. When he wouldn’t let her go, her hands fluttered upwards to cover her naked breasts. Markis wouldn’t let her do that either.
“It’s nothing to us. They’ll consider it weakness.”
Her eyes blazed, but he stared her down. They weren’t having sex, the day was too hot for it, but they were as good as naked due to said heat. They seldom got such days as this, and Tressa and Uly appeared grateful to hear it. Usually the winds from the valley cooled the air. The cliffs protected Swithin country from the heat of the desert, but some days the air grew still, and if it did this during the summer, they had the occasional day like this where the heat was oppressive. Markis had warned them they might get a thunderstorm later. On such a day, most Swithin went about practically naked, covering only so much as to protect their skin from the sun. Being inside, Markis had donned nothing. He had intended to put on some light undergarments, but Ryanac refused to wear anything. Feeling that Tressa would feel more awkward with the large man being the only one naked, Markis had joined him in his nudity. Uly wore loose-fitting trousers, silk, tied with a cord at his waist. Tressa had appeared fully dressed. Both of the Swithin men had tried to talk the others out of their clothes. Uly had finally given in around midday, realising there was nothing sexual in it. They were all too listless. Tressa had remained adamant for another hour, then wilted. Finally, she had allowed Markis to coax her out of her top.
He had been trying to get her out of the rest of her clothes by playing and teasing. He couldn’t understand why a woman so highly sexed worried about nudity, especially when the three of them regularly saw her body.
“It is just not done,” Tressa had snapped. “People do not walk about naked, not even in front of those they have sex with.”
According to Tressa, she saw the four of them being naked together in the bedroom as an entirely separate issue. The absurdity of her statement got the best of Markis. He didn’t know quite how it had happened, but they had ended up in a chase. The day was too hot for running, but seeing Tressa flee from him had stirred something in his blood. They had run out of the main part of the suite along the private corridors to the main section. They had passed one servant and one guard. Antal had stood there gaping. Busy wondering whether the sight of the king chasing his queen surprised Antal, or their state of undress, it failed to register in Markis’s mind that Tressa had taken a wrong turn. For a woman trying to hide her nudity, she had done a poor job of it.
The balcony was a high one, thankfully, and the square it overlooked small. Those below were persons assigned to the palace and not members of the general populace. Still, the same rules applied. If Tressa made an issue of their nudity, they would notice it. If she ignored it, so would the people below.
“Just nod to them, Tressa. Wave. Then you can go back inside.” To her due, she did as Markis asked. Aware of Uly at his back, standing out of sight, he reached out a hand. The pause grew so long he began to believe Uly wouldn’t take it, but finally those long, slim fingers slipped into his. Markis pulled him to his side. Together, the three of them gave a bow to the crowd. He let go of Tressa’s hand, and she managed to make it look not too much of a scurry as she disappeared into the palace.
Turning, his arm around Uly’s waist, the sight of a face caught Markis’s eye down in the crowd. Most of them looked happy to see Markis with his family. Some acted disinterested ‑‑ they saw the king and his consorts on a regular basis, and the day was unbearably hot ‑‑ but there was one baleful eye among them: Stargazer. Markis knew how Stargazer felt about him. It wasn’t as if the old man hadn’t stared at him so hatefully before, and yet something was different. That hate encompassed not only him but Uly as well. If Markis didn’t believe it impossible, he would have sworn he could feel what the old man was feeling right now, but that was ridiculous.
Even as he denied the idea, the comet moved inside him. The space between him and Stargazer shortened. Part of him separated, as though he could become some disembodied thing. The sensation wasn’t unlike how he sometimes felt when his mind, spirit, or awareness entered the abyss. This time, it was more horrid even than that, for he sped down towards those milky eyes, entered the old man, caught just a glimpse into his mind…and then jerked back violently, slamming into his own body. The skin prickled at his neck, and it was all he could do not to scan the surrounding rooftops. He could only hope Stargazer remained unaware of what had happened, and from the way the man continued to stare, Markis could only surmise this was the case. Trying not to hurry, he moved Uly towards the door. The young man went willingly but tensed in his embrace, a direct result of sensing the anxiety that now thrummed just under Markis’s skin.
Once they were inside, Ryanac shut the door. This was such a strange thing to do on such a day that Markis and Ryanac stared at one another. Uly’s gaze flicked back and forth between them.
“Why didn’t you come outside?” Uly asked Ryanac.
Markis was grateful one of them had broken the silence. Tressa had fled, probably deepe
r into their suite, but he couldn’t think about that right now. Markis was trying not to shake. He felt sick. He was aware that Ryanac knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t explain right away. He needed to catch his breath. Ryanac’s gaze finally slid to Uly.
“The public wouldn’t mind Markis and me fucking, but they would mind seeing me out of armour. I’m supposed to be his guard.” His gaze came back to Markis’s face. “That was a stupid thing to do.”
“I know that now.”
“We nearly paid a price for such carelessness and overconfidence once before.”
“I don’t need you to remind me.” They had grown complacent. Believing themselves safe on Swithin land had nearly cost Antal his life and would have cost Uly his if Antal had not thrown himself in front of him. Antal had survived because Markis had healed him with the power of the comet. Some members of the council, especially Stargazer, had not only hidden the knowledge of this healing power from him, they regarded it as forbidden. Markis only knew of it because he had asked Uly to steal a book from Stargazer, who too many saw as just a harmless old man, the same man he had just seen down in the square. He sighed. “I’m not used to feeling unsafe on home ground.”
“I know.” Those simple words held significant weight. “Now do you care to explain what just happened out there?”
Uly looked from one to the other. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
He deserved an answer. They both did. Markis didn’t want to voice his thoughts, though. Once spoken, he couldn’t take the words back. Ryanac and Uly just stared at him, waiting. He finally said the name, but he phrased it as a question aimed at Ryanac. “Stargazer?”
The guard didn’t question why Markis reached this conclusion but gave it some thought first. Then he gave a slow nod. “It’s possible, but tell me why you think so.”
The Swithin Chronicles 3: The Comet Cometh Page 14