After we’d been traveling for seven days, Captain Marrok surprised me. Some of the guards were performing self-defense drills, and he invited me to join them.
“We could use the practice against that staff of yours,” he said.
I agreed, showing the men some basic defense moves with my bow. While they used their wooden swords, I demonstrated the advantages of having a longer weapon. My participation in the practice drew Cahil’s attention. He usually showed no interest in the training sessions, preferring instead to talk to Leif about his quest to conquer Ixia, but now he approached to watch.
“Wood against wood is fine for practice, but wood against steel is no contest in a real fight,” Cahil said. “A sharp sword would reduce that staff to splinters.”
“The edges are the sword’s danger zone. The trick is to avoid the edges,” I said.
“Show me.” Cahil drew his sword.
The thick blade extended about three and a half feet from the hilt. An impressive weapon, but heavy. Cahil would need two hands to wield it, slowing him down.
I concentrated on the feel of the bow’s wood in my hands, setting my mind into my mental fighting zone.
He lunged forward. Surprised by his quickness, I jumped back. Cahil held the sword one-handed, and I found myself on the defensive. He had some skill with his weapon, but not much. When he swung the massive blade, I dodged, stepped in close, and struck the flat of his sword with my bow. The next time he swung I hit his hand. When he lunged, I kept my bow horizontal and brought it down on the flat tip of the blade, deflecting the weapon toward the ground. My counterstrikes wouldn’t disarm him, but all the while, I kept moving, forcing Cahil to chase me.
When he grabbed his sword with both hands, I knew he was beginning to tire. It was just a matter of time before he made a tactical error.
Our match lengthened. His men cheered for him, urging him to take me out. They didn’t notice the sheen of sweat on Cahil’s forehead, or hear the rasp of his breath.
Soon enough, he swung too wide. I ducked in close, and tapped my bow on his ribs. “Have I proven my point?” I asked, dancing past his next attack.
Cahil stopped. “It’s getting late. We’ll have to finish this later,” he said. Sheathing his sword, he marched off to his tent.
Practice was over. His men were quiet as they put away their equipment.
I sat by the campfire, waiting until Cahil had a chance to cool down. Captain Marrok sat next to me.
“You proved your point,” he said.
I shrugged. “With a lighter sword, Cahil would have won.”
We stared at the flames in silence.
“Why does he carry that sword?” I asked Marrok.
“It was the King’s. We managed to smuggle it south with Cahil.”
I studied Marrok. His face had that worn leather look of a man who has been around for a long time and seen it all. I realized his skin was tanned from the sun and wasn’t a natural pigmentation. “You’re from the north.”
He nodded and gestured to the men. “We all are.”
I studied the men. They were a mixed crew of dark– and light-skinned. And I remembered that, before the takeover, the border between Ixia and Sitia had been just a line on the map, and people from both countries mingled freely.
Marrok continued, “We’re the soldiers who weren’t important enough to assassinate, nor willing to switch our loyalties to the Commander. Goel, Trayton, Bronse and I were all part of the King’s guards.” Marrok shoved a twig into the fire. Sparks flew up into the night sky. “We couldn’t save the King, but we saved his nephew. We raised him, and taught him everything we know. And,” he stood, “we plan to give him a kingdom.” Marrok barked orders to the men, and then headed to his bedroll.
Weariness settled over me. My eyes grew heavy and I dragged myself to my corner of the dark tent.
Just before I fell asleep, the tent brightened. I felt a presence near me. My eyes snapped open. Cahil loomed over me with his sword in his hand. Anger pulsed from him in waves.
Chapter Nine
I stood slowly and stepped back from Cahil.
“You humiliated me in front of my men,” he said in anger.
“You asked me to show you how a bow could defend against a sword. I was only doing what you wanted.”
“It wasn’t an honest match.”
“What?”
“Leif said you used magic during the fight. That you made me tired.”
I suppressed my anger and looked Cahil straight in the eye. “I did not.”
“Then what did?”
“Do you really want to know why you lost?” I asked.
“Do you really have an answer?” he countered.
“You need to get off your horse and run with your men. You don’t have the stamina for a long fight. And find a lighter sword.”
“But it was my uncle’s.”
“You’re not your uncle.”
“But I’m the King, and this is the King’s sword,” Cahil said. His brows creased together. He seemed confused.
“So wear it to your coronation,” I said. “If you use it in battle, you’ll be wearing it to your funeral,” I said.
“You believe I’ll be crowned?”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“I would have beaten you with my bow. That sword is too heavy for you.”
“I always win against my men.”