Cal’s boom of laughter raises a few birds from their morning sleep. Their annoyed chirps sound over our heads as they fly towards the river.
“I’m going to have to tell him you said that,” Cal grins, “he’ll find it amusing.”
I try to envision any look of amusement on the Discerni’s face but come up short.
“You look good this morning,” I reply instead.
Cal nods in agreement. “I think the whole group took it easy last night, except for that little Warrior spitfire. She drank pretty well for her size but not nearly as good as you.”
Alanna.
There’s only one person in our group who could be considered a little spitfire.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
I nod and move into a bracing position.
“Good,” he grins, angling his fists to my face, “let’s start with hand to hand and then you can show me this new blade of yours...”
When I first started my travels for the King I had no desire to become a fighter like Cal. There was no raging call for me to physically train my body, nor was there any dying need to handle a weapon. In fact, when Cal approached me on our first trip, I politely declined his offer. It wasn’t until he offered again that I accepted, and that was only because the King had pressed the issue. Zander explained that I needed to know thebasics of self-defense for my travels, regardless of how safe we both felt his Kingdom was.
Therein started my morning lessons with Cal on all our travels. He taught me the basics of hand to hand combat and then gradually progressed into how to use a dagger. I quickly came to appreciate his guidance and even started to enjoy the feel of my body becoming more able and honed. I now had a stomach that didn’t need bindings to flatten it down, as was expected in the Queen’s Ladies in Wait, and my arms and legs strengthened with small muscles from all the hard work I put in.
I also enjoyed the small level of comfort the trainings gave me. It was good to know that I could hold my own if a bad situation ever arose. There was one night when a drunken stranger had surprised me in an alley in Brierman last year... I never found out his intentions, whether he just wanted to talk or attempt something more sinister, and instead tucked my foot under his and flipped him hard into the ground, sending him to an early night’s sleep.
That feeling was euphoric, knowing I could defend myself in the most basic way, and it kept me coming back to Cal day after day while laughing at my previous ignorance.
“Let’s see the new one then,” he huffs as the two of us wipe our foreheads.
I reach down my thigh and grab the weapon hiding under my boot, handing it Cal and nearly forgetting its size.
His eyes widen. “This is a damn fine blade, Alex.”
“It is,” I smile at the green agate, “but it’s much heavier than I’m used to.”
Cal nods, fingering the balance with precision, “I think this should be your combat blade, not a throwing blade.”
“Combat blade?” I laugh, “Ancients, Cal. Do you expect me to go to war?”
“Close range blade,” he corrects quietly, “something you can use against another that isn’t your fists.”
“Will you teach me?”
“We’ll start today,” he grins and hands the weapon back, “if you think you still have the stamina.”
“How are you even questioning that?”
Cal chuckles and moves around to my back, his big arms circling mine from behind as he adjusts my stance.
“Do you feel that?” he asks, dropping his palm to press into my core, “hold this position in defense. Make your body remember this stance.”
“It feels foreign,” I answer honestly.
“As did the first month when you began with me.”
“True,” I grumble, committing the pose to memory.
Cal nods again and moves to my front, his hand instantly darting to my fingers as he properly angles the dagger.
