Arc 7: Chapter 2: Spar and Parting
“Well, it is rather inconvenient.” Emma stepped back from her sparring partner long enough to adjust a lock of black-brown hair that’d escaped her bun. My squire swiped her sword up in a smart salute and her opponent mirrored the gesture. “And in winter of all times. Where did you say we’d be going again?”
We were in the Fulgurkeep’s training yard, a sort of quarry dug out from the rocky island’s face. Sheer basalt walls and the soaring spires of the enormous castle complex rose around us, dizzyingly high and giving me the impression of standing in a ravine. A light, slow snow drifted down from the gray sky.
I leaned against the side of the yard’s storehouse, watching the young woman fight. Emma Orley would be nineteen in only a couple of months, and a year of training and battle had taken all the soft edges off my nobly born apprentice. Though she wasn’t tall or burly, Emma had developed lean muscle and the vicious speed of a she-lion to complement her talent for fencing. Her older opponent had to take a minute to find their breath, giving us a moment to speak.
I said nothing. Emma glanced at me, a crease forming between her eyebrows.
“I will be departing for the south just as soon as I’ve settled some affairs here in the city,” I said. I’d considered waiting for this conversation, but decided it best to be done with it. “You won’t be going with me.”
Emma blinked at me, her amber eyes showing a momentary lack of comprehension. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then spat out a vicious curse as her fencing partner used her distraction to deliver a jab.
“I’m sorry,” Emma hissed as she beat back her opponent. The two started to circle. My squire continued to speak to me even as her distinctly avian eyes tracked her partner. “I’m not sure I heard you right. It sounded like you just said I won’t be going to the south with you, but I must have misheard.”
There was a dangerous edge to her voice. I sighed, releasing a plume of frozen breath into the coastal air. Myrice risked taking her eyes off Emma long enough to throw me a questioning glance.
“I’ve already spoken to the Emperor. My obligations to the Accord can’t just be abandoned, and this is why the lance was built in the first place. You, Hendry, Lisette, and Penric will still be going to Mirrebel not long after I leave. Duchess Faisa has already made travel arrangements, and you’ll be expected at her nephew’s palace before the end of the month.”
Emma didn’t say anything at first. Ser Myrice narrowed her eyes and ducked into a sudden low cut, the striking serpent to my squire’s bird of prey. And just like a canny bird Emma hovered out of the way on light feet, jumping to dodge the strike to her ankle and slashing out. Her blunted sword caught the Gorgon on her shoulder blade, eliciting a hiss of pain.
I’d asked one of the veterans why the two women weren’t wearing padding or any other protection. Both only wore simple trousers and tunics belted with rope, their arms and feet left to the rough mercies of the winter air. The tired man had just sighed and shaken his head, leading me to guess this wasn’t unusual for the pair.