Aqen looks alarmed. “I don’t know what to say to him.”
“You don’t have to say anything. You can just listen to what he has to say. And if they’re things you don’t want to hear, you can end the comm.”
“That...actually sounds pretty good.”
“I’ll set up the comm whenever you want. Just let me know.”
He nods, looking pensive. “Maybe when my shoulder heals. Not yet.”
“So did Nik say whether I’m allowed to leave the room?” I ask, pointing at my toes that are still carefully behind the line of the doorway.
That drags Aqen’s grin back out in the open. “He said you can go anywhere you want if I go with you. Well, except outside. If you want something outside, I am to get it for you while you stay in the airlock.”
I chuckle. It must have been excruciating for Nik to grant me so much freedom, and that makes the back of my throat tickle with emotion. He is always being forced to do things he hates, and he does them anyway because he tries to do what’s right. He has so much honor and strength, and I kinda love the guy for it even when it makes him a jealous dickhead.
“Let’s go to the pits,” I suggest, knowing that’s where Aqen wants to go anyway.
“You want to watch me spar?” he asks eagerly, practically dancing down the passageway.
“You’re not supposed to spar until you’re healed,” I remind him, gesturing to his arm in the sling.
“Jara set up one-blade matches so those of us with an uninjured side can still fight!” he practically crows, capering along beside me like he can’t bear to walk in a normal way, he’s so excited. Colors swirl all over his skin. “He modified training so we can continue to learn even with our injuries. He said it was your idea.”
I smile to myself. That wasn’t exactly my idea. I mentioned maybe holding extra classes so the injured apprentices could catch up, but I meant once they were completely healed. This is a more Irran solution, one where they could individualize their learning, and clearly it has energized and motivated Aqen. He’s like a big rainbow grasshopper, leaping down the passage. I have to hurry to keep up.
The pits are busy, full of apprentices leaning on the rail around the fighting rings where mostly-naked warriors are paired off. Some wear bandages and slings, but they’re all focused on improving themselves and gaining skills. They’re probably going to be standing beside me when I face the priests, I realize, ready to fight with one arm or an injured ankle or healing burns. Just because they’re not at a hundred percent doesn’t mean they’re not ready to make a difference.
I turn to Aqen. “Teach me how to fight.”
His eyes go wide and wary. “Jara Nik—”
“Would want me to be able to defend myself,” I finish for him. “Just in case it comes to that. I know I can’t go head-to-head with a highly trained Irran warrior. I just...don’t want to go down without a fight.”
He sighs and gestures to the weapons rack. “Choose a blade.”
I bounce on my toes. “Thank you! You won’t regret it!” I select a practice sword and quickly realize it’s way too heavy for me when I try and lift it from the rack. I choose a long wooden dagger instead, one of a pair. It has a nice weight in my hand, like it’s an extension of my arm.
“That is for two-handed fighting,” Aqen says, offering me the matching one.
I shake my head, laughing. “Let’s start with one and see how it goes. I don’t want to accidentally hurt someone.”
Aqen rolls his eyes. “You won’t.”
“Maybe I’ll be a natural,” I protest.
“No one is a natural. It is a learned skill.” Aqen motions to someone in the pit, and a female warrior jogs over to the rail. Like the males, she’s naked, the only nod to her gender that she’s wearing some leather panties instead of a cock strap. Her chest is as flat and muscular as the rest of them, so I guess there’s nothing to hide.
“Hi,” I say, angling my head to meet her eyes. She’s shorter than Aqen, but she’s still over six feet tall. I hold up my free hand. “I’m Delphie.”
“Y’len,” she returns, smiling, and presses palms with me. “I have heard of you. Nice to see a female face around here.”
“She wants to learn some self-defense to prepare for the hostage exchange,” he says to her. “I thought you could spar, and I’d advise from the rail.”
She eyes the dagger in my hand and hisses. “You should pick someone else. I’m restricted to single blade.”
“No, that’s perfect,” I assure her. “I don’t think I can manage two.”
“Two is easier,” she insists.
