Two Masters (epic progression fantasy)

Chapter 14: The Stave

With a quick shout, Shifra swung her shield upward, shoving Master Atin's stave away. She followed through with a jab from her own stave, holding it under her left armpit. He grunted from the impact, her strike pushing his shield into his chest.

She grinned.

It had been several days of practicing since that conversation with Qadi. She had a few bruises from her distractions. She knew Qadi felt her lessons were a waste of time. Most other politically minded women didn't bother with such training, instead focusing on their studies to pass the Exams of Rule.

Despite the logic of Qadi's arguments, Shifra still couldn't help but enjoy being good at something. Her knowledge of and affinity with saurians was better than most, she could hold her own at healing and philosophy, but here...

Here, she excelled.

She swung her stave toward Atin's shoulder. He ducked, raised his shield, and spun. She stepped as well, keeping him from flanking her left. Shield to stave. As he taught her.

Their weapons hit again. Testing each other.

She tightened her grip on her stave, feeling the fine texture of the carved pole beneath her fingers. It didn't weigh much, but oak was solid enough to break bone when its tip moved fast enough, all the mass and force of the wild, powered by the strength of her twisting body.

A familiar pang of guilt hit her. She'd read of war. Her father had talked about it plenty. Men died. Families were destroyed. She shouldn't enjoy this as much as she did.

Master Atin struck low with his stave. Shifra swung her shield down, knocking Atin's strike away. The force of her shield hitting the padded floor of the dojo gouged a deep mark.

Master Atin raised an eyebrow at her. "Is something bothering you?"

Shifra felt a confusing rush of curiosity and frustration. She realized she was glaring and shook it off. "Yeah."

Master Atin stepped to the side, he feinted a shove with his shield then struck again. She half blocked it, the side of the strike grazing her hip. Despite the padding she wore, it still hurt.

She winced at the strike, angry at the growing bruise her distraction had earned her.

"Well, are you going to tell me about it?" Master Atin said, almost as an explanation for the strike.

Shifra shoved his shield and struck. First low, then high, then low again. He blocked each, but she was getting closer to hitting him.

"No," Shifra said.

She got back into the fight, shoving her frustrations aside. They danced in the chamber, moving swiftly, gauging, striking, stepping. Master Atin was more than twice her weight in pure muscle, Shifra's only chance at anything resembling competition was her speed. Master Atin was one of the top spearmen in Ateya, just behind her father.

She struck at his chest, and he blocked with a grunt. "Are you sure?"

He made a few successive rapid strikes, one of which grazed her shoulder and the other of which almost knocked her stave out of her hand. She huffed in frustration.

"No," Shifra said. Breathing hard. Her distractions rushing to the forefront of her mind, "Honestly? I'm trying to figure out how to stop Yishai from strangling our country."

Master Atin frowned and looked over his shoulder. No one else was in the dojo. Omrai paid for her to have private lessons. She took the moment to strike, striking at the side of his helmet. He reacted instinctively, raising his shield and stepping aside. The attack had come very close. He half-stumbled, frowning at her. She smiled.