2
GATHERING FORCES
The weight of the sword in her hand was as familiar as the sun shining on her face. She welcomed the feeling of it, letting the blade slice through the air with practiced precision. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't training to ease some panicked worry or convince herself that she was contributing to the cause. She was training because she wanted to; because people truly depended on her.
“Like this?” a young man questioned, clumsily holding his weapon.
Flora gave him a gentle smile and repositioned the sword in his grip.
“Try it now,” she suggested.
He did as she asked and within a few seconds, she could already see his confidence growing. Something close to pride bloomed in her chest as she watched him explore movement with the blade. It was an odd thing to consider herself a teacher on par with Errik, Liam or even Chief Rolland. She had spent years admiring them, looking up to them and their skill level. On more than one occasion, she had given them the same look of gratitude that the young man offered her now. The thought had her nodding and then turning away bashfully.
The feeling followed her as she wove through the training field. She recognized nearly every face she passed. She had grown up with many of them. A good many of those now looking to her for guidance were people she once looked up to as a child. Men twice her age and size studied her with awe as she taught them different fighting maneuvers. They headed her orders as though she were some great lady of the clan, rather than the orphaned fighter she was.
“I think they are ready for the next move,” Connor told her, striding towards her with one hand in his pocket and the other on the hilt of his sword.
Just as she did, he studied the crowd, taking note of who needed a bit more help and who was doing well. She was more grateful for his aid than she had let on. While she put up a confident and self-assured air for the sake of the village, she knew she was out of her depth when it came to training an entire army. At least Connor had the benefit of having been properly trained within an army. He had his fair share of experience in training others, too, and he didn't seem too concerned with teaching someone older than he was. Of course, he didn't share her history with the villagers, so it made it a bit easier for him to correct those who needed it.
“Aye,” she answered at last. “I think they are.”
With a nod, Connor called for the attention of the field, creating a makeshift stage in the field with the others circling around him and Flora. She cleared her throat and steadied her nerves, knowing that she needed to speak calmly and clearly.
“I want all of ye to find a partner. Today we will be working on a defense move,” she announced, waiting only long enough for the field to pair off. “We have spent a fair amount of time learning how to attack yer opponent, but it is more important that ye ken how to defend yerself and others. Of course, ye all ken how to protect yer bodies and ward off attacks, but the bestway to defend yerself is to disarm yer opponent. Take away his chance at attacking ye, and ye have much better odds in winning the fight.”
They all nodded their heads, taking in every word she said with intense focus. And for good reason. The information she was giving them could be the thing that saved their lives, or the life of a loved one in the not too distant future.
“Face yer opponent and raise yer swords.” She looked to Connor to do as she said, lifting his sword until they clashed in the air in front of their faces. “To disarm him, spin your blade to the right and take a step forward. As ye move, hook yer arm over yer opponent's sword, trapping it under yer arm.”
Flora moved slowly as she demonstrated the move.
“With their sword stuck, take yer sword and press it into their wrist. If the pressure on their hand does nae force them to let go, the edge of yer blade certainly will.”
Connor let go of the hilt, leaving his weapon sticking out from under Flora's arm. She took a quick step back while pulling his sword out to point at him.
“Shall I show ye again?” she suggested after seeing the still confused looks on the faces of the crowds.
Handing Connor his weapon back, she nodded, and their swords met in the air once more. She moved through the motion slowly once, twice, and then sped it up.
“Now ye try,” she commanded.
She waited, allowing them all enough time to practice the move a few times each. Some needed a bit more time, but it was time they couldn't spare.
“Show us in a real fight,” a voice called out from the back of the crowd.
With a cheeky grin, she looked at Connor and cocked an eyebrow.
“Are ye sure that ye are unbothered by the thought of losing yer sword to a woman in front of the entire village?” She teased in a low voice.
He chuckled, loosening his shoulders with a devilish look of his own.
“Who says that I will be the one to lose a sword?”
With that, their fight began. She made sure to move her feet and body through the moves she had already taught the villagers, while throwing in a few others she wanted them still to learn. Connor was a worthy opponent and didn't bother holding back his strength. She took it as a compliment that he fought her as he did any other man.
They danced around each other until her forehead beaded with sweat. Still, her smile remained. Every now and then, she would catch glimpses of the enthralled expressions of those watching. That moment morphed into one beyond learning a survival skill, but of enjoying the show. She was harkened back to the days when she looked up at the great warriors of the Lost Valley as they fought and trained between themselves. She understood now the weight that Rolland had carried for so many years, sharing bits and pieces of it with Liam and Errik, as they worked tirelessly to prepare the next generation of warriors. He had always known the day would come when the clan rose up against Campbell, and it was because of his efforts that she was able to prepare these villagers for the fight that lay ahead of them.
A pang of grief rippled through her, giving the fight a bittersweet taste. Wanting to end it, she sidestepped Connor and moved like lightning through the disarming move she had just taught the crowd. She didn't stop until Connor's own sword was aimed at his head, hers poised at his throat. His chest heaved with the effort it took to catch his breath. A bead of sweat rolleddown his neck, gleaming in the afternoon sun. No one moved. No one even seemed to dare to breathe.
