ALMIRA THORN- Knowledge of Another Kind. [Editing]

Chapter 3- Swords in Harmony

Tom stood on the far side of the room, his right hand clutching the sword and turning it in the candlelight. His eyes showing the spark of hunger that we both felt when the weight of the sword was clasped in our hands. From the age we could walk, our fathers laid a weapon in our hands. For years they taught us how to master every weapon, how to overcome every obstacle. But the one thing they never told us was why. As we grew older and our curiosity became stronger, they forbade us to tell anyone the skills we acquired. Especially me. If anyone found out a woman was holding a sword in her hand rather then a ladle, well, you can imagine the reaction it would get. So we keep our knowledge a secret and train from time to time together in this hall. It’s the only place that I love more than my home.

The tip of a blade tapping against the stone floors brought me back to reality again and back to Tom. I gripped the sword until my knuckles were white and took a deep breath. Letting the excitement show in my eyes, which earned me an even bigger smile from him. He was waiting for the first move.

"Ladies first" he purred.

"Well. When you put it light that,” My voice echoed across the walls as I started to stride towards him. Making my arm sway with the opposite leg as I made my way closer and closer towards him. I saw him take a deep breath and then finally start to run towards me with everything he had, his sword swinging with his arms as he kept grinning. As the gap closed between us I had my strategy and leaped. Swinging my legs up and over him as he leaned down for the attack he thought he was getting from the front. Check mate. I heard him curse under his breath as he realized the mistake and I landed in a crouch behind him. My sword rising as he turned and swung his own down. The metal clinked together like a gunshot in the silence of the room as I felt strength push his blade harder onto mine. I used my knee against the floor and pushed up with all my effort, pushing my way upward until finally he started to budge and I pushed his sword to the side. It swung and came for me again, I spun and blocked, rolling to the side, protecting my body as he swung again and again until sweat glistened on his forehead. The routine was becoming easier to figure out and finally, as he swung down, I moved to the side and brought my sword home. His eyes widened quickly before he managed to block and hold them together. The tables had turned and he knew it. I gritted my teeth and prepared for the next move when the familiar groan of the hinges sounded and the door swung open.

"I thought I’d find you two down here." He walked into the room and the candlelight shone on him. His tall body and muscular shoulders an exact model of his son's. His sharp facial features showed through with his pointed nose and strong jaw standing out on his face, down to his smile which lifted the lines on his face to his eyes. A brown that was dark enough to be black and something else that was not apart of Tom's face with black hair, much like a crows. He was wearing dress clothes that fit him like a glove. Showing off his body condition and his height perfectly. The top hat he had worn was swung under his arm and held there with as little care as if he did not even notice it’s presence. I snapped up straight and lowered my sword. Matching his smile with my own.

"Mr. Whitehill, I trust you're well?" my voice sounded distant and panting from the fight. I turned my head and found Tom stood next to me. Still smiling and glistening with sweat down his face. His cheekbones and jaw were identical to his Father's but his lips were fuller and his nose softer, making him seem boyishly handsome compared to the man on the other end of the room, with his breaths coming out quickly from the fight and forcing me to bite back a giggle. The sound of Mr. Whitehill on the other side of the room brought me back to myself and brought colour into my face as I realized how long I had been staring at Tom.

"Please Almira, call me Edmond. I am well thank you. The news of your father has struck a large cord for me though, an old and dearest friend. I am deeply sorry for what has happened.” He moved into the room until he was merely a few feet away, his size becoming more apparent as he strode forward.

 “Please stay for dinner, of course once you have finished training with my boy. I see you are still underestimated.” He laughed and looked at me, “Just like your father."

 He moved his gaze from me to Tom. Colour had crept into his face and he looked briefly at his Father and me. Still showing that grin that bared teeth and avoiding his gaze from the other side of the room.

"I never doubted her, father. She always finds a way to catch me off guard." He replied softly, his eyes never leaving mine as I felt even more colour creep up my face. Why was I getting so embarrassed? It was merely a compliment and yet the look he gave with it sent my heart racing like the King's horse. I swallowed, not trusting my voice to hide my emotions.

"There has been many times where it has been me that was caught off guard. You certainly are a challenge to meet" My voice sounded strangely calm and soft. His grin turned evil and made me laugh. It echoed and bounced along the walls and relaxed something inside of me.

"We’ll be up shortly." replied Tom. His tone seemed both annoyed and calm, telling me he was as disappointed at the sudden end to the fight as I was. Edmond nodded and walked out the door. Leaving us alone again but this time, I didn't want to be alone. I was afraid he'd seen my lingering looks and the colour in my face. What was wrong with me? I swallowed the worry and looked back to see him walking to the far side of the room, his footsteps filling the silence of the hall. I followed him up to where the weapons lay lined up, placing the sword still clutched to my side in both hands, letting my fingers spread across the blade and feel the chill of the metal, feeling its weight even out in my grip as it gave me comfort again. I didn't want to be parted with it, as strange as it was to be a comfort to have, but it was still one I adored.

"I know the feeling." came Tom from beside me. I looked up and he was staring at the sword in my hands.

" I don't know what you mean" I replied flatly, placing the sword in its little space between the other ones. Laying it in the exact spot it rests in everyday.

"Yes you do. The feel of a sword is like the touch of a loved one to you, as the feel of a shield is to me. You don't have to pretend you don’t care about it. I know other people would find what you feel awful. Loving something a killer should love but it's who we are. Nobody can change that."

"Why can't we change the way we feel?” I looked up at him and felt my eyes widen in a silent plea, “What’s wrong with me Tom?"

 I felt his arms around me and his face leaning against my hair, his breaths coming gently and soothing "Nothing is wrong with you, its not why can't we change but will we. You and I both know that we wouldn't trade this" He gestured at the table with all the weapons lying there, waiting to be used, to dance to the song of battle drums and I knew he was right. I wouldn't change this for anything. It was a freedom that I could say I had. No woman could have what I have in this hall. I hugged him back and let myself have that comfort for a moment before I knew I needed to be stronger.

"We should go upstairs. Your father won’t wait forever." I pulled out of his arms and avoided his eyes again. I heard him come up behind me and walk next to me as I headed for the door. Not saying anything as we walked out of the room and I gave one last look back to the beauty of the hall before the door swung shut with a thud and the symbols shone in front of me again. Tom locked the door and slipped the key into his pocket before looking at me and giving me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Before I could respond he hurried up the stairs and left me standing by the door.