“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Griff said, as we walked around the side.
It was the fighter I had been watching earlier. Her dark hair had begun to gray, and she kept it braided tightly back, her skin browned from being out in the sun day in and day out. Ignoring the silver in her hair, she appeared to be not that much older than me, but I had learned to be cautious with judging ages. She was dressed in worn leathers that had clearly seen better days and was strapped with weapons. I quickly lost count of how many daggers were around her waist and legs.
Griff introduced me to Kaia Guerin, general in the army and head swordmistress.
I held out my hand, and she clasped it in a firm grip, her skin calloused from years of holding a sword. Her brow furrowed slightlyas if she was trying to place something before saying, “Well met, your highness.”
“Just Lexa, please.”
An approving smile stretched across her face. “Well met indeed, Lexa. I fought alongside your aunt and your parents.”
I shoved down the questions that her casual mention of my parents stirred up as I mentally adjusted her age up quite a bit.
Her look was appraising. I don’t know if she was looking at my fighting leathers or the way I carried myself, or something else entirely, but she jerked her head at the practice blades. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Griff unstrapped the crossed swords on his back, setting them aside, and lifted two practice blades.
“You?” I croaked. “I’m fightingyou?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Scared, Princess?”
I scoffed with a bravado I didn’t feel. “Hardly. And my name is Lexa.”
Our hands brushed as I took one of the practice blades from him, an exchange of power zinging my arm.
He moved to the center of the ring and crooked a finger at me.
I hefted the practice sword, learning the weight of it, trying to ignore the sight of him. He was an imposing figure standing there, all in black, from the close-fitting shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to show his forearms, to the tight pants and tall boots broken in from all his training. He stood relaxed, his sword held loosely in his hand, handling it with an ease that made it look like an extension of his arm.
I had to ignore the thumping in my chest, the dryness of my mouth, especially if I wanted to win. And I did. Or at least, I didn’t want to embarrass myself. If I was being honest, I knew there was no way I was going to win against him. But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.
Cautiously, I brought my sword upright and approached. Wecircled each other, and I heard Cormac’s voice in my head.Search for any weakness. Let them make the first attack. You will learn the most in those first few seconds than you will in the rest of the fight.But he clearly had the same thought because he simply waited, biding his time. At this rate, we’d be here all day. I would have to do something. He had the distance on me, given his height, but there was a possibility I was quicker.
I darted in, feinting to the right before reversing at the last second and going left. Our practice blades met with a clang and sparks flew. Breaking apart, we circled each other. Again, he waited until I made a move. I rushed in again with another flurry of strikes and counter strikes.
I was right! I was quicker than him. What I hadn’t counted on, though, was that he was a teleporter. And right as I decided to attack, he disappeared. I spun around in the nick of time to block his blade from an overhead shot. But I had made a grave mistake. He was significantly stronger than me, and bearing down from above like he was, I was fighting both his strength and gravity. I disengaged, letting him use his momentum to stumble forward, but he caught himself almost immediately. As he attacked with a flurry of blows, I realized I was wrong. There was no way I was quicker than him. I could barely keep up, barely track his movements.
I took a wild stab and kicked out, luckily sweeping his legs out from under him. He fell to the ground in a controlled movement. I had no idea how he pulled the next move, but I found myself falling, landing on him heavily. Without skipping a beat, he flipped us over so I was pinned under him. I felt a blade at my throat, but I also had one at his. Stalemate.
I was breathing heavily but I couldn’t blame it all on the exercise. Griff’s hips were pinned to mine, our heads mere breaths apart. I wiggled involuntarily underneath him, watching as his eyes grew dark.
I heard clapping as Kaia strode over. “I haven’t seen Griff have a blade pulled on him for a long time.”
He flexed his hips down on mine, seemingly a reflex.We stared at each other for a moment more, before he let out a breath and rolled off me. I lay on the ground, willing my pulse to drop.
He stood fluidly, barely having broken a sweat, and extended a hand to haul me up. I took it, the jolt coursing through my arm, leaving tingling in its wake. All of the work I’d done to lower my pulse went out the window as he held my hand for a moment longer than necessary before slowly letting go. I discreetly stepped to the side, putting some distance between our bodies.
“Next time, though,” Kaia continued, “don’t hold back on her. You do your princess no favors if you make it easy on her.”
That was him going easy? Well, shit.
“And to properly motivate you, if you go easy on her again, you’ll be facing off against me. It’s been some time since I’ve had the chance to wipe the floor with you, boy.”
He laughed, a surprisingly lighthearted sound from him. “Anytime you want, Kaia. Name the time and place. I’m ready for you.”
She approached me. “You did well today, girl. But we will make you better. Report back tomorrow morning. And every morning after that.”
Griff handed me a waterskin, a slight smile still playing on his lips as though he’d thoroughly enjoyed our bout. In all my years of sparring with Cormac, I’d never been this exhausted, both physically and mentally, after a fight. I was seriously going to have to adjust my expectations.
