The Arcanist (32 page)

Chapter Thirty One

“All right, I want you to run through the first dance please.”

Kyriel sighed quietly as she asked her pupil to show her what she'd learned over the previous days. Though she knew the young woman would have improved, she also knew that that was only because she'd had absolutely no skill before. It was actually impossible for her to get any worse.

At least it was warm and sunny, a perfect day for training Kyriel thought as she put April Severin through her paces with the sword. But she suspected there would be a lot of rain to come before the girl showed any true skill. She'd obviously never picked up a blade before in her life. The same though was true of most of the women in the temple.

Tyrel did not welcome them to her for their skills in battle. Her goals in welcoming them were much more complex. She didn't need an army. She needed a people. And she would use all of their skills, political strength, economic power, intelligence, connections, education and knowledge to wield them in her war. A war that despite the obvious concerns of her pupil's brothers, did not involve spilling blood.

The hamadryad wanted to bring about a new world. One where men and women were treated equally. Where there were no rich and poor. Where everybody ate, everybody slept under a shelter and in a warm bed, and there was no unfairness.

Make that the hamadryads. They all had the same goal. And it did seem a worthy goal to Kyriel, if a little unrealistic. In fact it seemed to her to be a day dream. People simply weren't like that. They didn't believe in equality. Those who had power or wealth always sought more. And that was before you considered the impact of emotions like anger, fear and hatred.

“Left … spin and dodge … thrust.” April started reciting the movements as she made them just as Kyriel had asked her to.

But while she knew what each step in the dance of blades should be, it didn't seem to help a lot. She was off balance a lot of the time, over extending in places and she didn't seem to have any true understanding of where the tip of the short sword was. There was a lot of work to do Kyriel thought.

“How was that?” April smiled at Kyriel when the first dance was done, no doubt thinking she had done well.

“A little improved but with still a great deal to do. You were off balance during the spin. You twisted your back too far for the side swing, forcing you out of position. Your lunge was too high. This is a dance but not a court dance. You aren't trying to impress people. You're trying to stick the tip of that blade through the heart of your opponent.”

“Now let’s try it again please, and concentrate on keeping your balance.”

“This would be easier if my other arm wasn't strapped to my side!”

“Of course it would be!” Kyriel groaned a little. She'd heard that very complaint so many times over the years and she was utterly sick of it. “But life isn't meant to be easy. This is about learning the short sword. It's about the feet and your balance. About moving easily, dancing in and out of the circle of battle. It's about the eyes and always knowing where your blade is. Now again please. Five times.”

April went through her dance again, reciting the steps out loud each time and little by little Kyriel thought, she was improving. But whether she would ever be good enough to call herself a swords-woman she didn't know. There would be many years of effort required before then. And though she didn't yet know it, a lot of those years would be spent with her strong arm tied to her side as she learned the shield. That would upset her. People adapted more quickly to having their weak arm tied than their strong one.

It didn't help that she was old to be training. In her home land Kyriel had been learning these steps and moves when she was eight. April was in her mid twenties. Everyone knew you picked things up faster when you were younger. Especially physical skills.

On the other hand she thought, there was something comforting about a land where children weren't taught to fight. Something that screamed peace at her. She liked that even if she doubted this land would survive long against an army of her people.

“That has to be better.”

April smiled nervously when she'd finished her five dances, no doubt thinking she was doing well. Perhaps she was even hoping that she was done for the morning.

“A little. Now the second dance please. Half a dozen times.”

Kyriel watched as April went through the second dance, studying her form, and was less pleased. There was no doubt that April had improved. But that improvement had only served to reveal the weakness in her legs. She didn't bend and stretch enough. Her movement was limited. And whenever she went too low in a crouch she found herself trapped. April was going to need to do some physical training as well, and somehow Kyriel suspected, she was going to complain a lot when she found out how tough it would be. Still, it had to be done and it was best she found out sooner rather than later and so she told her the unfortunate news.

“I could do better with pistols.”

“Pistols are one shot. What do you do after you've fired it? Ask your opponent to wait while you reload?”

“Not Edouard's pistols.” April wasn't giving up. She was starting to realise just how much work lay ahead of her in terms of learning to wield a blade.

“Your brother's weapons are impressive pieces. But you're barely strong enough to lift one let alone fire it. Now the third dance please. Six repeats.”

Kyriel was firm with her. She was firm with all her students. She had to be. And though April was reluctant she did as she was instructed. By the end though she was starting to breathe a little heavily.

“Did your mother make you do this?”

“Yes.” Kyriel answered her, not that bothered by the question. It had been a long time ago and she scarcely remembered her mother any more. “When I was eight she put me through all my paces in the dances. Before she was killed.”

“She was killed? In battle?” April's eyes grew wide.

“No. She was executed by my father.” It was strange how she could say that so easily Kyriel thought. As if it was nothing. But it had been a long time ago and it was the truth. “Now I want you to show me your forward lunges please. Fifty at least, left and right. Step and lunge and remember not to extend too far with the blade.”

“Your father killed your mother?” April sounded horrified. Most of the people in this land were when they heard. But still she did her lunges as asked.

“She was a war bride, given to my father's house as a hostage. Ten years later when her house broke the truce and attacked, she was put to the sword. It had to be done.”

But privately she suspected her father had always wanted to. He had been ashamed of her mother. And it had been necessary for the house. She had only given him daughters. He could not run the house forever with only daughters. He'd needed a son. His next wife had given him one.

“That's monstrous!” April sounded outraged. But then this was a soft land and people wouldn't do such things here.

“It is the way of my people.” Kyriel shrugged. It was nearly twenty years in the past. Well past the time when she should be thinking of such things. “Now I want you to put all three dances together, one after the other. Six repeats please.”

April was silent after that as she went through her drills and Kyriel was glad. The woman needed to concentrate. But she was learning. Slowly. She was paying more attention to her feet and her balance. But it was too much to ask that the silence continue indefinitely.

“You fled your home rather than be given as a hostage?”

“Yes.” Kyriel wasn't surprised that she knew that. It was common knowledge in the village. “It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“I fled because I was to be given to House Permian and I knew my father had plans to attack them within the year. As soon as their combined strength defeated House Argos. I was a coward and I did not want to die. Another fifty lunges please.”

“That doesn't seem like a mistake to me.”

“When I fled my younger sister Staria was given instead. She's dead now in my place.”

It hurt saying that. It hurt a lot. But again it was the truth and it had to be spoken. It had to be accepted. Staria had died in her place because of her cowardice. And though nearly five years had passed, that pain remained with her. As strong now as it ever had. It would remain with her for the rest of her life.

“By the Seven!” April sounded appalled. “And I thought Simon was evil!”

“Advance and retreat now please. Fifty repeats and remember to keep that sword straight this time.” Kyriel knew she wouldn't. Her arm would bend at some point. April simply wasn't strong enough and the sword weighed too much. It was only six or seven pounds, but on the end of an outstretched arm that was a lot. Still, it had to be done. April would just have to build up her muscles.

“You know you are much better off being away from that. I would much rather have no father than that father.”

That was true Kyriel thought. At least the second part. But as for the former, she wasn't so certain. She had betrayed the house and now she was hunted. She would be hunted for the rest of her life. There would be no peace for her. Her father would never forgive her for her disloyalty. Neither would she. At least if she'd done as she was told her sister would be alive.

But for the moment she had a larger concern. Her youngest sister, Valia. While her father was thousands of league away, Valia wasn't. She had guessed where she had fled to, or rather how she had fled. The local temple had told her where. And then she had chased her across the world.

Why?

That was the question that plagued her. Why had Valia chased her half way across the world? Was it vengeance she sought for the death of Staria? Did she seek a return to honour for the house by killing her? Or was it for some nobler purpose? A reunion of sisters? Kyriel had no idea. But she doubted the latter. If her purpose had been a good one she could have simply gone to the local hamadryad's temple and portalled here. She hadn't, instead choosing to take a long and dangerous journey over sea and across land. That did not seem like the actions of someone with only good wishes in her heart.

Now what she did know was that Valia was somewhere inside Theria. Or she had been when the coup had begun. That was the last report she'd heard about her before everything had gone wrong. Now she could be anywhere. She could be dead. Or injured. She could be a slave forced to work for these accursed veiled soldiers and their priest as they built their temple. She could be out there somewhere, hunting her.

There was a reason she trained with her blades every day.

And there was a reason that she expected her students to train just as hard. They could find themselves in a situation that was just as bad. They had to be prepared.

“Be that as it may April, if one of your family does try to sacrifice you, you need to be ready. You need to be able to fight even in your sleep if you have to. So let’s run through all three dances again half a dozen times, and this time with vigour. And then I'll teach you the fourth dance.”

“Fourth?!” April sounded shocked. “Just how many of these dances are there?”

“A hundred and eighty three – with the short sword. Seventy six more with the light shield. And once you've mastered them all we'll start with the duelling.”

There was no point in hiding it Kyriel thought. No reason to cover the bitter truth with honey. Her student had to know what she was getting herself into by agreeing to train. And she would train.

“Now can we begin please.”

“Fine!” April got in the first position, sword at the ready. “But while I do that why don't you tell me about Edouard.”

“Edouard?” Kyriel was confused, but also a little alarmed as she thought she knew what her student was hinting at.

“Seven bells! You really are bad at this! Do they not teach you anything of subtlety in Edin?” April began her dances.