The Reckoning - Book Two

Chapter Nine - Daella

I walk to the training grounds in the outfit Demwyn had sent to my rooms.

At first it had been strange wearing men's trousers and shirt and the looks Lyari and Saena had given me as they helped me dressed said they had thought the same thing. But the longer I wore them the more comfortable they felt, there was no corset, no countless layers of fabric and frills.

I could actually breathe without the feeling of being crushed and the soft black leather boots were more comfortable than any other shoes I had been made to wear. If nothing else good came from this experience at least I would keep the clothing.

"You're here." I see Demwyn wearing his black fighting leathers instead of the fitted suits he had been wearing since he was crowned.

"As agreed." I answer, followed by, "Your Majesty." I curtsy as best I can with my pants feeling awkward but holding the pose before standing.

He lets out a sigh. "If we are to do this, meet every day and train, then you can stop curtsying, and stop calling me 'Your Majesty', just Demwyn is fine."

I shake my head. "I don't think I can do that." I didn't want to get on a first name basis with this man.

He is King now. I could never have imagined calling his father Harwyn so why would this be any different.

He grits his jaw looking to the ground and I can almost see the regret in his expression, perhaps rethinking the entire idea to help me as he claimed.

"Very well." He replies with a tight mouth. "Have you ever held a sword?"

"No."

"Ever shot a bow and arrow?"

"No."

"Do you know how to hold a knife?"

"If I needed to cut vegetables then, yes."

"So you were never taught any kind of weapon? Not even an axe?" He asks.

"I'm a woman Your Majesty. I was taught how to keep a house and raise a family. My father and brother's cut the wood for our fire and hunted for our supper. My only task was learning how to be a good wife and mother." I answer. "Not that I would be good at either of those." I mutter to myself darkly and he sighs.

"Well it is different here, even though women are not allowed to fight they are taught basic skills. Many women know how to fire a bow and arrow, some can throw daggers." He tells me walking to a shelf of swords, scuffed and worn metal swords all line up against the frame and he chooses two wooden swords and walks back to me. "I am going to teach you how to use a sword first and see how you go."

He holds the sword out to me handle first and I take it, the weight of it is surprising and I am unsure of how to hold it correctly so I try my best to imitate his hold.

He watches my attempts before letting out a frustrated sigh and stepping towards me and physically moving my hand and fingers until he is happy with them before quickly stepping back.

"Most boys start learning sword fighting as soon as they are old enough to hold a sword, so when they come to me to start their training, it is to refine their skills, not start at the beginning." He says, and again I can almost feel the regret and the desire to change his mind.

"Did you train them?" I ask quietly, feeling the smooth wood underneath my hand, no doubt years of being held by different males having worn it down. I study the handle so I don't have to look at him as he answers.

"My brothers?" He asks and I only nod, staring down at the sword, not wanting to say their names, it had been difficult enough just to write them letters yesterday. "Yes, we had instructors as well but I was always there with them as they learnt what I already knew."

"So you're not completely out of your depth then." I say looking up at him and he only stares back perhaps trying to decipher if that was an insult or just an observation. I myself didn't know so he can think what he wants.

"Let's start with the basic stances, feet apart, left foot in front, you want to create a smaller target for your attacker." He begins, changing his stance and I copy, he only nods. I doubt there would be any praise in these lessons.

Then he begins showing different stances with the sword held at different angles, instructing and correcting as he goes, several times he has to physically move my arms and I always bristle at his proximity.

I can't help but be reminded of my lessons with the Mistress, at least there was no stick.

"Now I am going to attack you and I want you to block my attacks with the stances I just showed you. Ready?" He asks, sword raised.

I only nod in reply.

He moves slowly, holding himself back as he moves his sword in wide arcs, bringing it down against my own, the wood striking against mine as I go through each stance, blocking his attacks, one after the other. Soon my arms ache and my hands sting against the handle.

"Again." He says taking a step back.

"Again?"

"Yes, do you have somewhere else to be?"

I don't answer.

"Ready?" He asks and I nod once in answer.

We repeat the same stances. I block each of his strikes and he moves faster with each new series, his hits becoming stronger and my arms shake at the effort from blocking, I can feel sweat on my forehead and down my back.

I look at him as I stand trying to catch my breath and he looks like he has taken a leisurely stroll through the gardens. He stands tall, no sweat, no strain, but I suppose this kind of training would be nothing compared to what he is used to.

"That's enough for today." He says holding his hand out towards me.

I hand him back the sword and look down at my hand, red welts line my palms and I quickly hide it away.

"Your skin will get used to it in time, but you can wear straps if it's too painful." He says setting the sword back in their place.

"It's fine."

He only nods turning back to me.

"Well we are done for the day, you can go get changed and go on with your day." He says folding his arms over his chest.

I nod. "Your Majesty." I curtsy and turn to leave catching his frustrated expression as I do.

I smile to myself as I walk back towards the palace, happy to have found a way to get under his skin.