The Practice Sword Rattled Within My Grip, My Hand Still Aching After the Last Round. It

Chapter One

The practice sword rattled within my grip, my hand still aching after the last round. It was a good ache, one that spoke of progress and time well spent. My mind tallied up the precise areas of soreness, remembering the cause of each one.

The attacks came on quickly, each strong and varied. I blocked, then parried, successful but feeling my muscles tremble a warning. I was nearing my limit. My arms were burning, fingertips sporting new blisters. All the talcum powder from my gloves had run down my arms. It made the reddish tone of my skin look pink.

Jacob's gritted teeth told me he was frustrated. His muffled growl spoke of a rising anger. It was likely directed more at himself than me. My parry had sent his blade wide, so he jumped back quickly, creating some distance just in time to avoid my blunted weapon. He was taller than me, but just barely and couldn’t depend on reach in his defense.

I didn't hesitate to follow, sending out quick thrusts that were mostly feints. Part of me still didn't know how to close an attack. The knowledge was there from long bouts of reading and practice. Despite that, use of the information was fickle and elusive. It was the second week I'd shown enough improvement to prevent Jake from 'killing' me, so our fights kept ending in a draw. I couldn't kill him either.

Just surviving was getting old. The desire to win burned me in a way that was new, in a way that seemed irrational. When weapons practice had started it'd been a tedious bore. There were forms to remember, harsh exercises, and painful lessons. Surviving was enough of an accomplishment. Despite that, I'd almost quit, but I wanted to prove my capability.

I had to, really. The training had been a huge orchestration on my part. Father hadn't wanted me to learn the sword, calling it useless for a princess. I couldn't stand the idea of proving him right. All the barons of Galania did that for him.

Truth be told, maybe I never would use the skill in a real fight, yet recently I'd broken through some barrier of self-awareness. I could feel the power in the ability, understood more and had to depend on memorization less. It made winning feel like a tantalizing possibility. At first I was just glad that I could fight back without being soundly beaten. Now there was a chance of more.

Jake eyed me warily, edging to my left, "Come on then, let out that eagerness I've been seeing."

Reacting to your opponent's taunts isn't generally advisable. They would expect that, or so Jake always recited. However, he knew me and was growing used to my style of fighting. I had never reacted to his stupid taunts, stupid and boring. Jacob taught by the books, and even his curses were lifted from the pages. Usually, I was reserved, defensive, I would hold back and watch.

So, I changed. This time I darted forward with a loud cry, intent on broadcasting a false attack. I leaned left, then couldn't help but grin at the flash of surprise in his eyes. It was gone so quick I almost believed it imagined, but I had to believe my offensive had taken him off guard.

His sword rose in reaction to my false-intentions. The moment hung still in my mind, frozen in that rushing clarity that comes from surging adrenaline. I could hardly believe he'd made such a foolish mistake.

I saw the opening as if it were a beacon, some part of my brain gesturing madly, "There! There! Attack!" My blade twisted, arm whipping forward to reverse my previous motion, slapping the sword's "edge" at Jacob's turned hip. His armor was just open enough, and I felt the hit reverberate from my arm to shoulder.

And at that same moment I flew backwards, a gauntlet-driven punch knocking the wind from my lungs. Caught completely off guard, I tumbled onto my side and rolled to a stop. Panicked, I scrambled away, thankful that I'd kept my sword. Standing in a hurry, the courtyard spun into focus as my mind cleared.

Dust filled the air within the dark circular walls. It slowly dissipated to reveal one of the tall castle towers against a backdrop of blue sky. We were in the western yard, a side space for inconspicuous guests to enter and guardsmen to train. The tightly-fitted tiles beneath our feet were in drastic need of being swept after a recent dust-storm from the eastern deserts.

Jacob stood where I'd hit him, pulling the armored faulds from his waist and rubbing his hip. I realized that his sword was already sheathed. "You got me," he said, grimacing, "Hard to admit, but even that punch wouldn't have kept me alive. Not after the bite a real sword would've ripped open."

The tension left me, muscles wavering. My body was very tired, and it was a struggle to sheath my own sword smoothly, "Truly, that would've been a killing blow?" The victory felt hollow. It would've led to survival, sure, but it wasn't the clean finish often recorded in books.

"Well enough it was," and he crouched, thudding into a seated position, "I'd be overrun in a battle, finished off by time or a caved in skull." He stretched his neck back while peering at the endless fire at the tower’s top, “Ald, I have tending duty today. I don’t want to climb all those stairs.”

His tiredness surprised me. I still thought him indestructible. When we'd first begun practicing it felt impossible to even hold a sword. "Such a noble death," I grumbled, "Falling into the mud, stepped on by worn boots." A column helped support my weariness as I wiped sweat from my brow.

He scowled, glancing away from his distraction. "Noble death," growling the words, "No such thing, just death, plain and dirty." His gaze settled on me, "What is the first rule of a true fight?"

I rolled my eyes, repeating the answer yet again, "There are no rules in a true fight. When two opponents face each other, winning is the only rule worth subscribing to. Otherwise, you die."

He nodded, "Good, now remember it for real this time. If you go out into the world expecting people to treat you fairly, you'll be dead blinding quick. The borders will push back eventually, they always do."

I frowned, feeling my expression tighten. He could be so moody, at times coming off as cold and foul. Time had lent understanding. Somewhen, he'd been hurt. Jacob trusted little, cared little, and seemed to enjoy even less. His company could wear thin quickly, but his knowledge was worth the ire. "Father sealed the borders and created a unified Galania. It would be madness were any of our neighbors to attack."

"Yes," said Jacob, "And the King accomplished that peace through a brutality that only proves my point. He did not follow any rules of battle. It was effective, but grudges have long memories."

My emotions swirled in opposing directions. I supported my father's rule, but disliked him as a person, "Is this to be the lesson for today? Borderline savagery?"

He waved me away as he started to get up, "No, I think you've earned a break." Jake struggled upward with the use of the practice sword, "Aldyor be blessed, these years of training are now bearing fruit. You did well today, now go. I'm done with you."

My body wanted to collapse. I was glad I wouldn't have to sit down for more book studies. That would've been a recipe for having to listen to Jake drone on about death and pain and the triumphs of father as a tactician. That would be incredibly tedious, and besides, I really wanted a bath. "Ah, well, thank you for the lesson. As usual, you were masterful." A bowing sort of nod was my goodbye, and my step was quicker than I would've liked as I turned away. Risking more lectures wasn't worth grace. I moved into the hall, grateful when I was out of view.

The castle still slept, always a relief when I would wearily return to my room. There was peace in the streaming beginnings of sunlight filtering through long empty halls. Without Jake there, I let the limp I felt show, let myself extend each stride to stretch out the soreness in my calves. Swordplay was my training's primary purpose, but it also included conditioning that left my body weak.

Guards were out making their rounds, the only presence while dawn still lingered. I nodded to them, though I did not expect an answer. Though I knew them all by name, father’s orders were for strict discipline in Eyreso's military. The entire kingdom was run with discipline, either to the rule of law or for the faith of Aldyor. That tight expectation of order could chafe.

Rounding the corner into my room's hallway, there were a curious number of servants already rushing from one room to another. That was unusual, but maybe some attending Baron was paying a visit. I usually sat in on council meetings, and did not look forward to more dry speeches on which barony needed which allocation of imports. Let the merchants send their goods all down the Trade Road with abandon; deliberations on tariffs could be maddening in their tediousness. Still, politicking was a necessary evil: the civilized way to power.

Thinking nothing more of the servants filling the halls, I opened the door to my room. After all, whatever was going on, I'd learn about it from the king himself soon enough.

Chapter Two

Fortunately I had made sure to schedule a bath after every practice session so it was waiting as I walked into my quarters. Aylee, my lady-in-waiting, was pouring a final bucket of water into the large tub set into a corner of the room. Reflective granite tiles of black and gold flecks created a pocket area for bathing, and eventually I planned on having walls added for privacy.

Aylee glanced up as I approached, breaking into a smile as she saw that it was me, “You certainly look happy. Did training go well today?”

I couldn’t help but respond with a grin, “It was the best day yet! I managed to win the last round!”

Her expression went blank, eyes wide. She was stunned! A moment later, Aylee’s hands shot up and she made a small squeal, “Amazing! Simply amazing! And you were fighting Jake, yes?”

I nodded, pleased by the excitement over my accomplishment. I hadn’t wanted to react to it, still didn’t want to. It wouldn’t do to become proud, “Yes, and every round before ended in a draw. So…” I let myself trail off, wanting her to finish the boast.

"You didn’t just win the round, you won the day! Oh, congratulations, milady! This is simply wonderful!" She moved quickly to my bath, pouring the bits of soap and scents in as she spoke, "Try and tell your father, maybe it’ll convince him that the expense has been worth it."

My grunt dispelled her smile at that, “I have won a battle, but not that war.”

Aylee bit her lip, looking to the floor with a kind of pained expression, “Aye… I suppose that’s true. It’s likely he’d say you’ll never use it in a battle, yes?”

“Yes, I think so.” I perched on the tub’s edge, beginning to undo the tight bun of my hair needed while fighting. It was heavenly to release that tension from my scalp, “That about sums up his thoughts on my training. You know him as well as me, I think. Still, I would not want there to be warring and battling, even if it were a way to prove the usefulness of my hobbies.” I set aside the purple ribbon that’d bound my hair, “Peace is hard to come by, and far more valuable than my desires.”

She gave a small sigh, “Wise of you to say, and I wish more thought that way. The council sounds off on the regular about honor and valor, enough so that some grand conquest seems eminent.”

“That,” I said, letting her help in pulling off my boots, “Is because some measure honor and valor by the lands you conquer. Father has done well to maintain peace, but there will always be someone that wants the borders to expand.”

Aylee set my footwear to the side, “Yes, I’ve heard such talk far too often for it to be an idle idea. The kingdom of Galania is strong right now, possibly at a peak of wealth and power. I’d say the king’s policies are working just fine.”

I smirked, “And many would say that a peak is the perfect place for falling. Some of the council members have spoken at length to that very effect. Do you know, some have implied that father is a coward?”

Her eyes widened and she made a choking sound, “What!? Did he leap across the table and throttle them where they stood?”

“No, of course not,” I said, laughing at the idea, “He controls himself too well to respond to idiotic taunts. Everyone knows he fought gallantly in the border disputes. His accomplishments as a prince were far greater than any of the barony lords, and they have had a lifetime to prove themselves.”

“Yes, it’s too bad he reserves use of his anger behind public view.” Aylee picked up my training boots. They left a small smudge of dust on the rich red carpet, good sign for them to be cleaned and checked for repair, “The council could use a reminder of that temper. Maybe it would inject some sense into their decisions.”

Dipping my fingers into the bath, I tested the water and found its temperature perfect, “I doubt anything in the world would gift lords with more sense. What a blissful fantasy that would be.”

She stepped back, pausing at the doorway, “Will there be anything else, milady?”

Smiling, I waved her away, “No, no. Thank you, Aylee. You are always a darling.”

Undressing was an act of shedding bits of practice armor. The majority hung from a strap around the back of my neck, supported by a belt that cinched at the waist. Additional parts belted to the back of my knees and around the waist. Underneath I wore training garments, a bland dress not even as long as my knees and dark tights. The outfit had been one of the hardest parts about starting my training, but wearing armor bits made it less indecent. Such concerns were also the reason for such an early time for training. The castle knew of my practice, but I didn’t want to showcase an appearance unfit for my station.

I stepped into the bath and luxuriated in the spread of warmth that the waters brought while sinking into their depths. It was a custom-built extravagance that I’d persuaded father to get for me. Mother had heard about it and soon they had their own version in the royal bedchambers. Before that, we’d both had to go down the hall to a bath that was far too large to keep heated and too deep to touch bottom. Castle Eyreso had been built with four floors of expansive space and high ceilings. Heading anywhere outside of my room for private matters had seemed ridiculous.

My mood soured a little on thinking of that project. It’d ended well for me, but convincing dad had been quite the pain. He was incredibly stubborn and it had nothing to do with the costs. In fact, I was pretty sure we’d saved money since we stopped trying to keep the larger bath full and staffed. A dozen servants had maintained the ridiculous bathing room, but now it had been converted into a gallery to accept Song Swans. That had helped father come around, but the whole project had become ‘his idea.’ He had spoken quite eloquently about having a more private space than the rooftop aviary for messages.

Frustrated, I slapped at the water with a grunt of anger. A nearby candle caught some of the splash, sending up a winding trail of smoke. Flicking away a tuft of suds from my kneecap, I took a deep breath with eyes locked on the scraped skin on my leg. “Every fight teaches us something,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes at the recitation. It was one of those obvious lines of wisdom Jake liked to repeat. Then he’d recall the text, a book obviously titled by a dullard, Philosophy of the Direct and Indirect Strategies Related to Conflict. Of course that would lead us back into the classroom, a room that felt more confining after each day.

Still, that particular line of wisdom, however obvious, was good to keep in mind. Dad had taught me, again and again, that I had to fight for every last scrap of freedom. He had my life planned out, but I’d learned to get around that. If I made enough noise, struggled with all my heart, and gnashed my teeth, eventually he’d give in. Then it was his idea, and his plan that changed, and suddenly I was doing what he wanted anyway.

A faint streak of jealousy crept out for my younger brother. Tarnus had been sent to the eastern border of Galania to learn battle and sailing. There were always pirates and brigands to fight on the seas leading to Taendragor. I wouldn’t mind seeing the ocean, let alone try a hand at fighting against relics of the sea.

I felt the first hints of a chill in the water, reminded that I hadn’t really scrubbed off any of the morning’s grime. My thoughts turned to cleaning up rather than boiling over, but I kept chewing on the idea of father’s obstinance. He had taught me, I realized, that control was mostly about keeping up the right appearance. My struggles with him were never seen by the public. They just saw his daughter going along with new ideas from the king.