The Blades

Chapter Five

November 3rd

I was awake before Bayah had come knocking and decided to lay in bed under the warm covers as the cold November air was beginning to cling to the stone walls of the Sanctuary like moths to a fire. It was unbearably cold this morning and most of the assassins had ditched the flexible and revealing clothing for something warmer like I'd done.

Bayah knocked on my door and entered, as always, without waiting for a response, "Good morn—oh, you're awake," she smiled but she honestly looked dejected since she couldn't cheerily wake me for the day, "Hmph, well get up and get dressed. It's the sword fighting and healing trials today." She lit my oil lamp with the box of matches on my bedside table.

"Are you gonna go easy on me?" I asked hopefully, giving her my most innocent smile to try and convince her.

She laughed shortly. "Not on your life."

"But it is my life!" I said.

"Just get up." She rolled her eyes, smiling lightly to herself.

I crawled out of bed and began to change as Bayah turned away to allow me privacy. She handed me a small loaf of bread as she always did and led the way through the tunnels. My heart was pounding in my ears as my nerves got the better of me.

In Commons, she stopped at a blank stretch of the wall by the fireplace and ran her hand across the smooth stone. Her delicate fingers located a small button that blended perfectly into the wall's texture. The wall slid away to reveal a darkened passage and stairs.

We stepped through the entry and made our way down the hall. The stairs opened into a small room, lit by a single torch on the wall with a door on the right-hand side. An opening was directly opposite the stairs and I couldn't see what was beyond it, as it was pitch-black.

Bayah went over to the wall and pulled down a lever with a small grunt. At once, the room ahead was thrown into the light to reveal a large arena with sand-covered floors. On the right side seemed to be an observation deck to watch over the area. An iron portcullis separated the tiny room Bayah and I was in and the arena itself.

She turned to me, "This is it. I believe in your abilities but I won't go easy on you so try not to mess up," she teased, punching my shoulder lightly. The scar from where she'd stabbed me that first lesson had healed and was now a faint white sliver. I saw her eyes and she smiled. I could tell that she was remembering that lesson fondly.

"What will I have to do?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"It's just like practice," she told me, "You get a weapon and you basically have to make Flax submit. Or kill him." She grinned.

"I don't get to fight you?"

"No," she gave a slight pout, "it would be too easy for you since you know my style of fighting. Flax volunteered this time."

As she spoke, someone clapped a hand on my shoulder and I turned my head to see Flax, "Yep! I'm not going easy on you either." He gave me a dramatic wink.

"Erm, has anyone ever died in the trials?" I asked. This echoed my other question when I asked if anyone had died in training.

"Just one," she said matter-of-factly, "but he was an idiot and fell on his sword so he wouldn't have lasted long." Bayah looked out at the arena, hands behind her back and rocking back and forth on her heels nonchalantly.

"How did he manage to get that far?" I asked. I didn't believe that he'd made it through months of training only to collapse on his own weapon and die.