Page 46 of Heart of Shadows

“Hmph. Hardly as interesting as your escapades.”

“Oh, I suspect that isn’t true.” He grinned, his merry, twinkling eyes fixed upon her. She looked away, pushing down the flutter in her stomach.

“There’s not much to tell.” She recounted her life in recent years with Betta, but kept the years before that she never spoke of to anyone to herself. No one would want to hear of the young waif who survived on scraps of charity and waste, who came from goodness knows where and whose earliest memories were of the dull ache of hunger and the cold of no bed. She did not like to often think of it herself.

Aedon was silent for a moment once she finished. “Well, then, I suppose our company is much more pleasant and thrilling.”

“It wouldn’t take much,” she muttered darkly. For a moment, she was back in the dingy, stinking inn with its undesirable patrons. He laughed at her scowl, and bent to retrieve some of the wood. She gathered the rest and returned to camp behind him.

“Did this arse make you carry all that? Let me help you with that,” Brand said to Harper as she returned to camp, shooting a reproving glare at Aedon, who ignored him as he built the fire. Brand rose from where he had been playing chatura with Ragnar.

“I’m all right. I’ve got it.” She dodged out of his way and dumped the wood on the rocky shelf by Ragnar. “Is that enough?”

“That’ll do.” He did not lift his eyes from the board for more than a second, absorbed in the game of strategy.

Aedon lit the fire with a thought and in moments, fuelled by magic, it burned merrily, just as the air cooled around them and the heavens opened. They huddled under the overhang out of the driving rain and glad for the fire, though there was no meat to go on it that night and they had to make do with more jerky and some sour fruit Ragnar had found that day.

Separated from all of them, Erika sat as immobile as a statue with her back to the rock. Harper could not help but wonder what had happened to make her such an inhospitable character.

The rain stopped before darkness fell, taking the chill with it. Harper watched the stream run by before them, lost in the babble. She startled as a shadow fell over her.

Erika stood before her, holding out one of her blades. “I’m cold and stiff. We can start your practise now.”

Harper scrambled to her feet and took the blade. Her arm fell involuntarily, just as it had the last time, unused to the weight.

“Hold your blade upright,” said Erika, irritation biting in her voice. “And watch your feet. Stand with them farther apart, one slightly behind the other. Your balance will be better.”

She darted forward to slap Harper on her thigh with the flat of a blade.

“Ow!” said Harper. “I wasn’t ready.”

“Always be ready. And move your feet. Don’t stand still.”

She darted forward again. Harper dodged backwards, but not quickly enough, and she grimaced as her heel jarred against an errant tree root. Her feet felt like bricks, her legs wooden. Erika rapped her again. It smarted.

“Try and attack me. Maybe your attack is stronger than your defence.”

She reddened. Erika thought her defence was bad enough, and it was clear she did not think her attack would be much stronger. Harper dashed forward, her arm sailing through the air, but travelling a different path than she intended with the weight of the blade. Erika easily knocked it aside. She turned and gave Aedon a look that said, “really?”

“We all have to start somewhere,” Aedon murmured.

Erika huffed. “This is going to take a lot of work.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose between a forefinger and thumb. “Right. We’ll go again. Perhaps this might help. Think of a fight much like a dance. You dance with your opponent back and forth, teasing them, pushing them, leading them on.”

“I can’t dance,” mumbled Harper.

“Of course you can’t,” said Erika through gritted teeth.

Erika demonstrated manoeuvres with Brand, moving with exaggerated slowness. Each time, Harper had to copy them against Erika, movement perfect. Even that felt like too much. Every movement was so alien to her. Muscles she did not even know she had were forced into action and complained thrice as hard for it, until she trembled with tiredness. This was awful. Shame and disappointment burned in her chest, and her throat clogged with thickness that threatened to brew angry tears. The grand tales made this sound so glamorous. Reality was far from it. Swordplay was intolerable. It was hard, loud, and impossible. Harper’s patience had worn out, and it seemed so had Erika’s.

“I think we’re done for today. If you remember half of that, well, you might not get killed immediately.”

Great.

“One final thing. Stand just like that with your feet in… Yes, that position. Hold your blade out, as if you’re facing off an attack. Stay there.”

“Until when?”

“Until darkness has fallen and you can see the stars above you.”

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