Page 63 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
Out of pride or stubbornness. Or both.
“You need to bend your knees more when you deflect.” I nodded at Geryll, who nodded attentively, as he always did. “Keep them locked and straight and a blow will send you flying back. Try again.”
They both gripped their weapons tighter, bowing toward each other.
It was almost like they were looking in a skewed mirror.
Both dressed in dark leather trimmed with fur armor worn only around our parts, Geryll had a few inches of height on Nadya, but she had built more muscle.
He’d started shaving his hair off completely like me, while she preferred to only shave the sides of her hair, a thick blonde braid falling down to her waist.
Both orphans under my protection, but under very different circumstances.
Durym, Geryll’s father, had been one of my best lieutenants, taken too soon from us by an unknown disease which had eaten his stomach and liver. All the healers had been able to do was numb his pain enough that Durym could speak and plead with his dying breath that I take care of his son.
Nadya had been found less than a year later by the scouts patrolling the rim of our crater, lost, hungry, and so close to feral I feared she might take a bite out of them. Geryll, in his quiet,unassuming way, had been the first one to make her talk, and they’d been inseparable since.
Brother and Sister in the Blood Brotherhood.
Almost twins at eighteen years old, with only a few short months between them.
At least we suspected.
As fierce as Nadya wanted to be, her eyes turned unfocused and glazed over in the rare occasions she’d talked about her upbringing. An orphan all her life, she’d been raised in the freezing monk temples just outside Frostfall Reach, the Clan’s impenetrable stronghold, where snow was water, roots were food, and praying to the old gods was mandatory.
Nadya had refused to step foot in any temple or take part in a ceremony, religious or not, since she’d left that place, instead channeling whatever fury she’d accumulated in those long years through fighting.
And right now, she wanted to kick Geryll’s ass harder than usual.
Nadya flung Francisca at his feet, so close to the floor, I was sure the blade would impale the wooden planks.
Instead, it raced through the air, heading straight for his ankles. Luckily, Geryll was quick. He heaved Warcleaver and jumped, narrowly avoiding the blade. The ax impaled itself in the wall behind him with an unforgiving thump.
A thick sheen of sweat gathered on both their foreheads, their heavy breathing a testament to their dedication.
“Good.” I uncrossed my arms and gave them both a curt nod, something I’d come to realize they cherished after each successful training session.
I was barely seven years older than them, but they looked at me for guidance and praise, like a true big brother.
They all did.
When I’d inherited the fortress throne, I’d agreed to take on its responsibilities as well, both savory and not.
“That’s enough for today, you both need your rest,” I said as Geryll fought to place his shield back onto the weapon rack.
After what had happened at Sanctua Sirena, we needed to be ready for everything.
“If the First Daughter doesn’t kill us in our sleep.” Nadya yanked her ax out of the wall and twirled it into her belt. “She might be killing someone as we speak. She’s more dangerous than those trolls you keep telling us about.”
My eyes sparked as a smirk pulled at the corner of my lips. “No, she’s too busy arguing with Sylvester at the moment.”
And it sounded like an argument nobody wanted to have. Especially my raven, who barely tolerated anyone other than me and, occasionally, Geryll. But I’d asked him to watch over The Huntress, so he did. He’d probably sulk and nip at my hair when he returned, though.
Sylvester was temperamental.
“That does not sound safe,” Geryll said. “Perhaps Nadya’s right. You could have leftsomeguards in the hallways if she’s so dangerous.”
That would have defeated the purpose.
