Blood of the Righteous

Martial Lessons

The staff swung down towards Eleenia's shoulder with stalwart force. She raised her own staff just in time to block it. The wooden clack of the staff echoed in the small empty room. Glancing downward at her opponent's knees, she attempted a counterstrike. Her attack was easily deflected and her opponent touched her lightly on her thigh, then again quickly on her upper arm.

"El! How many times do I have to tell you? Keep eye contact at all times! You are practically shouting what you are going to do next!" The girl shook her head and smiled.

Eleenia leaned on her staff, panting for breath. "I'm sorry, Janelle. I'll try to remember." Eleenia inhaled deeply to steady her breath.

"It's okay. Felix was ready to pull his hair out after telling me the same thing time and time again."

El continued the sparing match. Over the last three months, she and Janelle had become very good friends, along with Holle MacLeod, the Caledonian girl. In addition to her lessons three times a week, El was teaching Janelle how to read and write. Two months ago, she had bought Janelle a writing kit and a blank journal to practice her writing, and she was impressed by how quickly she had picked up a basic reading proficiency. Janelle was by no means dim witted, she just completely lacked an education.

It was cute to watch in a way, El thought as she deflected one of Janelle's thrusts. Janelle was so swelled with pride when she didn't need to Pigeon Post delivery boy to read her a message from her brother Felix.

Sensing Eleenia was starting to become lost in thought, Janelle bypassed El's defenses and gave her a light swat on the arm.

"Come on, El, focus!" Janelle lightly tapped Eleenia's staff. "Come at me again. To truly learn to heal injury, you must first learn how to cause it," Janelle said with a mischievous grin.

Eleenia looked at her dubiously. "Oh, thank you for that bit of wisdom."

Janelle laughed and swung her staff in an overly-exaggerated arc, giving Eleenia time to ready herself and deflect the blow. The two exchanged strikes, parries, and counterstrikes for several minutes. But once again, as it always seemed, Eleenia began to tire. Janelle took a step forward, forcing Eleenia back. Stepping on the hem of her dress, Eleenia stumbled, dropped her staff, and began to fall backwards. Janelle skillfully stopped herself in mid-swing. She quickly grabbed on to Eleenia's arm and steadied her.

Eleenia grabbed Janelle's arm, regaining her balance. "Thank you," she panted.

"It must have been a man who invented dresses," Janelle said, shaking her head. "Those things are useless, designed by someone who hated women and wanted us to be uncomfortable."

Eleenia was still in the midst of catching her breath. "I see... you don't let... it bother you..." she said, motioning at Janelle's doe skin britches. "Some men would... find that... indecent."

Janelle shook her head in disgust. "Only pig-headed fools like your brother and the rest of those over-fed sycophants in that damned University." She threw her staff to the ground with a clatter. "What do they know? They sit on their high and mighty roosts looking down their noses at any that actually have to work for a living, or step even slightly outside of their view of what the world should be!" She spat in disgust on the wooden floor.

"And who's side with they fight on? Would they ask the Caledonian or Gylinian Holy Defenders to attack their own people?" Eleenia lowered her gaze and shook her head, sighing in frustration. "You know what? Forget it. I won't have this same argument with you again."

"Because you know I am right!"

Eleenia sighed. "The worst thing about ignorance is its insistence," she said under her breath.

Janelle gasped at the last comment. "Ignorance? Let me tell you something! If these damn 'holy' defenders would get off of their collective duffs and do something, this war could be over within a matter of months. How many people have died because of their inaction? How many thousands? How many widows and orphans has this war made?" Janelle flopped down and crossed her legs, leaning against the wall. She put her head in her hands. "How long before I see my father or Felix?"

Eleenia suddenly regretted what she had said. Setting her staff aside, she sat down next to Janelle and put her arm around her.

"I'm sorry," she said. The muscles along Janelle's back were tensed, but she was not crying.

"El, you're nobility. You can't understand what it is like. You just can't! You grew up in a castle with servants. You have gold, and you know where your next meal is coming from. I'm sure not everyone in the church is self-serving, but I've heard terrible stories of what goes on."

El hugged her tightly. "Oh, come on. The judicial board was fair to you that time you and Holle were brought before them. You two didn't seem to have any problem receiving the restitution."

"Had I known that I was going to be hounded day and night by that weasel-like bean-counting scribe about 'not tithing and giving the church its due', I would have thrown it back in their faces. Besides, if it weren't for you, I would have probably been flogged or hanging from the gallows... or worse."

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have gotten yourself into that mess in the first place."

Janelle chuckled. "And after all that happened, your brother still has a problem with you learning how to defend yourself."

Eleenia arched an eyebrow and glanced at Janelle. "Oh, now he's 'your brother' and not 'your pig-headed brother?' Starting to have feelings for him?" She giggled as she nudged Janelle in the ribs.

"Please, don't make me laugh. I have enough of a stomach ache," Janelle said in a deadpan voice. "If it makes you feel better, then your pig-headed brother still has a problem with you learning how to fight?"

Eleenia shrugged, still chuckling. "He is learning to live with it and starting to realize that he won't always be there to protect me. Especially if I decide return to home in a few years. Or four if I choose to pursue becoming a master healer."

"He should already realize it. Even with you still being here, he hasn't always been able to protect you."

"That's why God sent me you," Eleenia said smiling.

Janelle rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You know, the next time he protests, just remind him about what happened at The Scholar's Inn King's Table tournament."

"I always do. And speaking of that little incident, let's have a look at your arm."

Janelle sighed and rolled up her tunic sleeve. El ran her finger lightly across the scar that ran from her wrist to her inner elbow.

"Have you been putting the vorkus-root ointment on it?"

"Yes," Janelle said tiredly.

"Hm. Looks like this scar just isn't going to fade."

Janelle shrugged as she pulled down her sleeve. "So I have a scar. I don't care. You should see how many my father has."

"Well, you're not exactly a mercenary captain."

"Not yet," Janelle said, smiling. "Not yet." She rose to her feet and retrieved her staff. "Well, if we keep sitting around chatting, you'll not get your three silvers' worth today. Defend yourself! And remember your eye contact!"

El used her staff to push herself up. Janelle immediately set upon her, and the sparing lesson resumed.