Dorian snorted from where he was leaning against a support beam on my left. Roran and Rilen were on either side and had their arms folded. Aiko marched up to me.
“Kimber, please, you don’t have to do this. He’s a master swordsman.” He dusted his hand over my knuckles behind my back.
“I do,” I whispered, still watching him. “But I promise I won’t hurt him.”
“Hurt… Kimber…” He shook his head.
I turned and looked at Aiko for just a moment. “You know it wasn’t luck that took Savion’s head off, Aiko. You’ve seen me with the sword. Trust me?”
He glanced over at his father, still uselessly whipping the sword around. “Yes. I do”
“Step back,son,” Reo said, the derision clear. “Let’s let the young girl show me what she thinks she knows about the pointy knife.”
Aiko looked at me again.
I smiled softly. “Trust me, Aiko. I know what I’m doing.”
He sighed and went to stand next to Rilen.
Reo danced up into the courtyard, further under the moonlight. He was swinging the sword aimlessly in patterns that weren’t even good for warm-up.Fool’s patterns,meant to distract you.
I wasn’t going to be distracted.
“Are you ready, little one?” he asked.
“At your leisure,” I answered.
He nodded at my sword. “Take out your shiny blade. At least try.”
“My sword will come out when it’s ready. At your leisure.” I nodded at him again.
He brought his sword to a classic opening parry, but his stance was reversed. Lunging, he dropped the sword to waist level and drove toward me. I stepped into the parry because I knew he couldn’t get the point anywhere near me. The move simply had us switch positions.
Reo stared at me. Switching his feet into a different stance, I found myself wondering if each of his attacks were going to be slow and deliberate.
They were. I didn’t even have to pull my sword. Each was set up, and each of his hesitations allowed me to prepare to move in concert with him.
This was boring.
I unwound my scarf during one of his attacks and decided to make this a little more of a challenge for myself. Instead of just dodging, I started to use the scarf to catch and redirect the parries. It was an elegant trick my mother had taught me. She wasn’t anywhere near as good as my father with the sword, but her scarves were awesome protection against them.
It also made it look fancier and more difficult than it was. There were a few gasps from the women in the audience, but a glimpse at Dorian showed he was looking at his nails.
I laughed and lost track of Reo’s sword. I had to duck, roll, and come up on the other side, and because I had lost track of his blade, I pulled mine out and held it in defense.
“That’s what you get, girl.” Reo grinned and turned to the audience with a bow.
Roran shook his head. He wanted me to finish the contest. I had been waiting for one of them to say something about that. I switched my grip and Reo came at me.
Dirty fighting, just as I thought. Everyone was taught to fight dirty because that was what was called for on the battlefield: no finesse, just brute strength, and minimal skill.
I also doubted that Reo had seen the inside of a practice room in years.
So, to his dirty fighting, I parried, countered, and danced around his sword with the best of my skills. There was no keeping up with me. He quickly realized that he had chosen the wrong person to fight.
At several points, I smacked my sword against his in such a way to make it look like he was trying. He might have been; I couldn’t tell.
“Ilati,” Dorian called quietly. “Dinner is getting cold.”
