City of Bridges

Lessons

Everything hurt, but that was all right. She'd earned it. Stretched flat on the ground in the abandoned garden, Neda couldn't repress a ridiculous grin. Tierce probably thought she was crazy, but she didn't care. For the first time in her life, she felt like she was doing exactly what she was meant to be doing, and it was glorious. Bruised limbs and aching muscles were a fair price to pay for fulfilling a lifelong dream.

"We should go soon." Tierce was sitting on a half-broken bench nearby, tying up the bundle that held the wooden swords they'd been practicing with. Unfairly, he looked barely winded after their two-hour workout, and no sweatier than anyone else might in the middle of a hot summer afternoon. Neda, by contrast, felt like someone had sloshed a bucket of rancid water over her.

"I don't think I can move just yet," she had to admit. To forestall the inevitable apology, she quickly added, "Thank you for not going easy on me."

"It's the same routine your father used to put me through when I was just starting." He still sounded apologetic but added a word of encouragement. "You'll get used to it."

She laughed, remembering. "When you first came to Fleuracy House, you only left your room for lessons and meals. And you never talked. I thought there was something wrong with you."

He ducked his head and a wavy lock of his dark brown hair flopped over his face. "I was just exhausted all the time."

Tierce had been barely fifteen years old when he'd come to Corregal, all on his own. He'd spent two weeks haunting the Blade by day and sleeping in the alleys of Landslip before Neda's father, Sieur Eristan Fleuracy, had found him and took him into his household as a student. Though clearly grateful for the opportunity he'd been given, it had taken him weeks to settle comfortably into his new surroundings. Once she had gotten to know him a little better, he confided that, as the son of a traveling minstrel, he'd never lived anywhere longer than a month or two at most. It was no wonder it'd taken him time to adjust to living in an actual home.

She rolled over onto her belly and rested her chin on folded hands to look at him. "What's it like, in Batair?"

"Colder," he said. "And wetter."

"That's not what I mean. What's it like to live where women can be warriors? Are they different?"

"I don't know. I never really thought about it." He seemed to consider the question for a moment and then grinned. "My first teacher was a girl. Her parents were in guard service to the earl of West Tolk, so she thought she knew a thing or two."

"Did she?"

"She was ten. I was twelve. I think she just liked having an excuse to boss someone around." Neda couldn't help laughing, and his cheeks reddened with good-humored chagrin. "I don't think I learned much, but it was a start. I might not be here if it weren't for her putting a sword in my hands."

He stood and crossed the garden, bundle in hand, to where a shed slumped against the wall. The garden was oddly shaped, wedged between a rocky slope and sharply angled walls. As far as Neda could tell, it wasn't attached to any of the surrounding properties—there wasn't even a proper gate, just a narrow opening blocked by a few wood planks that Tierce had moved aside for them to enter. She had no idea how he'd found the place, but as hidden and forgotten as it was in the midst of the noisy smithies and workshops of the Hammeroad District, there was little chance that their training sessions would be noticed by anyone.

"We can leave these here for next time," he said, disappearing inside the shed. He was only gone a moment before he emerged again, dusting off his hands.

"Tomorrow?" Neda smiled hopefully, but now it was his turn to laugh.

"I doubt it." He gave her a wry, appraising look. "If you can move at all tomorrow, I'll be impressed."

Neda groaned as she rolled over to her back again, but even the promise of worse pain to come couldn't dull her happiness. The blue in the sky overhead was starting to deepen in color, a sign that the afternoon was starting to wane. Even in midsummer, night fell early in Corregal, tucked as it was along the gorge of the Cille river. She'd have to get home soon if she was going to wash and change in time for dinner.

"Just tell me it's worth it," she said as Tierce extended a hand to help her rise. "Am I any good?"

"You're the best student I've ever had." He said it with such seriousness that it gave her a moment's pause before she realized he was teasing her.

She aimed a kick at his shin that he easily avoided. "I'm your only student, you louse!"

He broke into another grin and pulled her to her feet. His hand was warm and strong in hers, and she could feel the rough places where he'd earned calluses from long hours wielding a sword. I'll have those someday, too, she thought to herself.

He did not release her hand once she was standing. Instead, his face grew serious again. "Neda, I promise you I'm not going to change my mind about any of this. But I think you should tell your father what we're doing."

With that earnest expression on his too-handsome face, Neda almost gave in to him. Almost. She could appreciate his concern. She was uncomfortable keeping such a secret from her parents, especially when there was so much risk involved. But she wasn't ready to give up her dream on the mere hope that her father might understand why she wanted it so badly.

"I'll think about it." She pulled her hand free from his and used it to pull the damp hair from the back of her neck. It wasn't quite a lie—she would think about it, even if she already knew what her decision would be. But Tierce seemed satisfied.

He motioned her toward the hidden entry. "You go first. We probably shouldn't be seen coming and going together."

Neda nodded in agreement. It wasn't just a matter of reputation if they were found out. There were laws in Corregal about women wielding swords. They were both taking a risk. She took a half-step toward the gate before turning back to him. "Thank you, Tierce. You can't know how much this means to me."

He started to smile, that sheepish little half-smile that was so adorable, and before she knew what she was doing, she leaned forward and kissed him. Not on the cheek, which might have been all right, but on the mouth. It was so fast that Tierce didn't even have time to react before she pulled back. She caught only a glimpse of his startled expression as she turned and fled.

She was through the gate and two streets away before she slowed down enough to chide herself. Foolish, she thought. Unkind. She knew how Tierce felt about her. He'd never acted on his infatuation, but she'd felt it. It was unfair to suggest that anything but friendship was possible between them, not while he still lived in her father's house. Even if she had spent a pleasant daydream or two entertaining the notion of just such a dalliance.

And hadn't his lips been just as soft as she'd always imagined they would be?

She gave herself a vicious pinch to force the memory from her mind. She had to pinch herself three more times before she reached home. At least one thing was certain, she ruefully reflected as she plodded up the hill toward the House. This was one impulse she couldn't blame on Evod.