Page 14 of Kilted Sins

As she and Duncan approached the training grounds, Enya saw that Cillian was already there, standing in the middle along with Archibald and several other men who were warming up before their sparring sessions. He, too, was wearing a partial armor, though he looked much more imposing than any other man who stood near him, what with his large frame and intimidating manner.

Though he always seemed to tower over everyone around him, he usually looked a little rough and rugged, especially for a laird, but the armor and the sword gave him a new air, one she had never seen on him before. It was as though he had been transformed into a true warrior, and for the first time, Enya saw why someone could fear him.

As she stepped closer to the training area, many of the soldiers turned to look at her, abandoning their tasks. For a while, Cillian remained engaged in the slow exchange of blows with Archibald, before he finally realized that the ruckus of swords around him had died down and he turned to search for the reason, his gaze instantly finding her and Duncan.

“What are ye doin’ here?” he asked and then turned to Duncan. “What is she doin’ here?”

“She wished tae watch,” Duncan said with a small shrug as he stepped into the large area. “Daes it matter if she’s here?”

Though Cillian said nothing, his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked at Enya, who simply took a seat on a log that had been lodged into the dirt near the edge of the training area and which seemed to serve as a bench. The dress she had chosen for the day was simple, a soft blue trimmed with lace and white thread, but mud had already gathered at the bottom hem after her short walk outside.

Surely, Cillian suspected the reason for her presence, even if he didn’t protest it. He didn’t need to say a thing for Enya to know he didn’t want her there, not when his gaze was enough to say everything his lips didn’t.

But even as she sat there, he quickly focused back on his opponent, Archibald, who seemed as patient as ever. Even with the sword in his hand, Archibald looked refined, as though it was more of a sport for him rather than a necessity to fight. The two of them quickly began to exchange blows once more, but this time, there was intent behind their movements.

Cillian and Archibald moved fluidly, as if they had done this hundreds of times before—and they probably had, perhaps ever since they were children.

“Is this what ye call fightin’?” Enya asked and though Archibald didn’t falter at all as he met Cillian’s sword, Cillian hesitated at the most critical moment, allowing Archibald to get too close. In his surprise, he still managed to parry Archibald’s blow, though he was anything but happy about the interruption. “This is hardly anythin’ more than a dance.”

As he delivered a blow that Archibald quickly blocked, Cillian took the time to glare at Enya over his shoulder. It was all he did, though, before he returned to his task, attacking and counterattacking, he and Archibald moving around each other with practiced steps. Enya had to commend his focus, at least; even when he was irritated, he still concentrated on the fight.

She would have to change that. Irritating him was not enough; she had to infuriate him until he had no choice but to falter or at least acknowledge her.

“Raise yer sword higher when blockin’,” Enya called and this time, Archibald and Cillian both lost their rhythm, falling into each other instead of managing to attack. Cillian pushed Archibald back with a growl as though he was the one at fault and then quickly attacked again, only to have Archibald side-step him and respond with an attack of his own, one that Cillian only narrowly avoided.

Archibald seemed irritated, too, Enya thought, though perhaps not so much because of her, but because of Cillian’s response to her taunts. Even so, it hardly showed in his expression, which remained almost serene as sweat dripped down his forehead and his nose, and his cheeks reddened with exertion.

Physically, Cillian was in no better shape. He, too, had turned red, his breath coming in quick, short puffs. Despite that, he was still fast, still putting just as much strength behind his attacks as he did when they had started.

Cillian didn’t take Enya’s advice and instead continued to hold his sword too low, making his defense more difficult for himself. Enya watched him in silence for a short while, trying to decipher his fighting style and analyze it until she could find something to critique, while at the same time giving him a false sense of security that the commentary had stopped. In that time, he and Archibald fell back into what seemed like familiar rhythms, dancing ceaselessly around each other with no one to interrupt them.

At least until Enya spoke again.

“Guard yer left side!” she said, pointing exasperatedly at Cillian. “Ye’re too used tae Archibald’s attacks! Yer nae guardin’ yerself!”

With a frustrated huff, Cillian put an abrupt end to the fight with Archibald, furiously wiping the sweat off his forehead as he glared at Enya. For a few moments, neither of them spoke, but then Cillian tossed his sword at her feet and then held out his hand, silently asking for another.

“If ye ken about swordfightin’ that well, why dinnae ye fight me yerself?”

Enya glanced between Cillian and the sword before her, weighing her options. Though she was trained with a sword, it had never been her weapon of choice—in fact, she had never enjoyed fighting and the harm it could cause, and had only learned enough to defend herself should the need arise.

She couldn’t back down from this challenge, though. Even if she couldn’t beat Cillian, now she had to at least try.

Cillian smirked to himself when he saw Thora grab the sword, he had tossed at her. He had known there was no way she would back down from this challenge and she proved him right the moment her fingers wrapped around the hilt and she stood to join him within the bounds of the training grounds.

Everyone else around them had stopped fighting to watch as she approached him, testing the weight of the sword in her hand. A part of him was glad for the audience; perhaps if he defeated her in front of everyone, she would stop challenging him like this.

Fer such a small lass, she can certainly wield a sword, though.

She held that sword with the ease and confidence of someone who knew their way around blades and that surprised Cillian. He had never seen a noble girl pick up a sword as nonchalantly as her or hold it with such trained skill. Did she know how to fight, he wondered? Did she know how to use a sword better than he would have guessed?

For a while, the two of them simply circled each other. Cillian didn’t want to be the first to attack, not when he didn’t know just how much strength Thora could put behind a blow. Though the swords they were using were dull, meant for practice, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t hurt her if he forgot to keep himself in check and despite all their differences, the last thing he wanted to do was to harm her because of a silly challenge like this. He’d rather gauge her strength first; let her deal the first blow so he knew what, precisely, it was he was dealing with.

That first attack didn’t take long. Thora rushed towards him and though she seemed to be holding back as well, Cillian only had time to deflect her blade because he was expecting it. She was fast, he thought, even faster than her small size suggested, and that could make her a dangerous opponent—at least for anyone who wasn’t as seasoned a fighter as he was. The one thing she lacked, though, was strength, and she was using her speed to make up for it.

With every movement Thora made, it became clearer and clearer to Cillian that apart from speed, she also had impeccable technique, a technique that was perhaps even better than his. His own fighting style was almost brutish, using most force to defeat an opponent, and whatever technique he had learned throughout the years, he had learned it through fighting with Archibald, who prided himself on being a technical fighter. Ever since they were children, their tutors had made a point of telling Cillian he could be undefeated if only he tried to match Archibald’s technique.

What they hadn’t realized was that Cillian would still grow up to be undefeated.