Page 83 of Beds and Blades

She smiled. Then she reached for a slice of the ham.

“So,” I said. “Why am I going to need a lot of fuel today?”

“Scipio took me aside this morning.” She pulled off a piece of bread. “If you’re going to live here, you’re going to become one of us. Which means training. Starting today. You’re going to learn to ride a horse.”

Her eyes met mine.

“He also told me about the weapons work he started with you,” Varia continued. “I am going to continue that. Every morning. He wants you able to handle yourself.”

“I like the sound of that,” I said.

Varia smiled as if she had expected this answer and was pleased to have been right.

“Finish your meal,” she said. “You’re going to need it.”

***

Before she left, Varia set a folded set of clothes on the end of my bed without explanation or ceremony.

Unlike the rest of the outfits that were delivered to me, this outfit was clearly designed for combat.

Leather, of course—a sleeveless structured upper piece with cross-torso straps and buckles, fitted leather pants, knee-high laced boots, fingerless gloves. The standard kit for a female warrior at Outpost Ely, scaled to my dimensions.

I held the upper piece against myself. The shoulders were close, but the body sat slightly loose at the waist and chest.

Varia would have filled this out correctly. I did not. The leather sat against my body waiting for the current occupant to catch up.

I put it on.

The leather was cool at first and then body-warm within minutes, molding slightly to whatever shape it found. The straps crossed my torso. Each buckle was placed where it would actually be used rather than where it would look impressive. The boots laced to just below the knee with the snugness of something designed to stay on in rough terrain.

The fingerless gloves left my fingers free while protecting my palms. I was beginning to understand that the palms absorbed the most punishment when you were learning to grip something you had never gripped before.

I was ready for my training.

***

I found Varia in the training yard.

She had a practice sword in her hand, and she was running through a sequence alone. Her dark hair was loose around her face in the morning air.

She stopped when she saw me.

“The shoulders will fit in three months,” she said. “The waist in four. Sooner if you commit to the sword work.”

“Good morning to you too,” I said.

She smiled.

“Horse first,” she said, turning toward the stables. “You cannot fight from an animal you cannot control. And you cannot control an animal you are afraid of. Are you afraid of horses?”

“I have a healthy respect for horses,” I said.

“That is a way of saying yes,” Varia said. “It is fine. We will fix it.”

The horse she brought out was a bay, dark reddish-brown with a black mane. I made eye contact. He regarded me with the patient, slightly skeptical expression of someone who had been through this before and was reserving judgment.

“His name is Velox,” Varia said.