Chapter 5
*
Someone knocked on her door, but Liara finished arranging her belt before answering. They had supplied her with these pale gray tunics instead of her own black ones, but she would be damned if they made her lose her daggers as well!
Sure enough, when she opened the door, Kirstie's first reaction was to say in shock
"You're still carrying those?"
"Of course." Replied Liara, slightly amused by her vehemence, as she stepped out to join her. "I take them everywhere."
Kirstie surveyed them dubiously. "They don't look that bad, actually." She conceded. "They're a nice colour." She led Liara back to the dining room then, for breakfast.
After their meal, the bell rang for the start of lessons, and Kirstie took her out into the grounds for weapons training.
"What weapons do you know?" demanded the formidable Weaponsmaster, Bredan, when they entered the salle.
Liara, unintimidated in spite of the universal fearful respect people gave him, answered immediately. "I can shoot a bow accurately and well. I am proficient in unarmed combat, and I can use most edged weapons to defend myself."
The Weaponsmaster looked skeptical, and she had the feeling he would try to make a fool out of her - if he could. "Can you use those pretty little knives that you're carrying?" He asked her.
"Certainly, sir. They're my weapon of choice."
"Very well. Use them to defend yourself against my sword attack."
She drew both knives easily, and tilted one carefully so it reflected sunlight into his eyes. Bredan smiled in appreciation of this ploy, but merely moved aside. Liara waited as he drew his sword and took a fighting stance, holding her own weapons in a deceptively lazy grip. Bredan came towards her a swung a feint at her left side. She dodged it easily, but made no other move.
This process was repeated, with him swinging at Liara, and her merely deflecting, than refusing to follow up.
"What, are you battle shy?" He asked her at one stage in feigned puzzlement. "Why do you not attack?"
"You specified that I merely defend, Weaponsmaster." Liara replied.
"Defense is over! Now is the time for attack."
Liara smiled grimly. As she had hoped, he now thought her weapon shy. Defeating him would be easy. She danced across the floor and closed with him, making a controlled thrust which he jumped away from, startled by her sudden change in tactics. Then a deadly dance of blades - Bredan was good, though no match for either of her parents - before her final work.
Liara tripped, falling to the floor in a controlled tumble. The Weaponsmaster saw his opportunity and sent his sword slicing down to her head, in a move she could not stop -
Unless, of course, she had deliberately set the stage for this strike. Losing her feigned helplessness, she whipped her hands up, catching his sword between their crossed blades, before twisting her hands, sending Bredan's sword into a wall.
Then, before he could recover, she sent one razor edged blade straight for his chest, at an angle that would send her knife cleanly between his third and fourth ribs, reaching his heart.
The blade swept in its deadly strike, unalterable at its immense speed - and stopped, touching, but not even scratching his white tunic.
*
The salle, full though it was with Heraldic trainees, was full of echoing silence. Bredan stared in shock at the deadly knife still held steady by the astounding new trainee.
"Stand down, trainee." Bredan managed to say, still speechless with shock at her skill and cunning.
She nodded, and returned both blades easily to the sheaths that hung from her belt. The salle was filling with astonished murmurs, and she blushed slightly from the praise inherent in their tones.
"That was - well done." The Weaponsmaster managed. "Extremely well done! Could I please examine your weapons?"
She pulled one from its sheaf with her black-gloved hand and reversed it, offering him the hilt.
"Amazing!" He said as her hefted it experimentally. "A perfect weight and balance. It's a little overdecorated for my taste, but lovely work all same." He moved one hand as if to test the edge.
"Be careful, sir." She warned him. "The blade is sharp enough to cut through bone like butter."
He looked skeptical, but instead used his reinforced fighting gloves, pulling the strong leather over the blade. To his obvious surprise, the leather was cut in two with almost resistance.
"My, my," he said mildly, picking up the butchered glove and returning the knife to Liara. "You are full of surprises." He paused, then. "Do you happen to know the use of the sword?" He asked her curiously.
She squashed uneasy memories as she answered. "I'd really rather not use one, sir." She told him politely.
He picked out a practice sword and offered it to her. "I will teach you the sword." He told her firmly, and she took the weapon.
She held it in a slack grip, studying it unhappily, when suddenly memories overcame her.
. . . Brecke's foul blade ripping through her palm, infecting, polluting, the pain . . .
The blade clanged as it hit the wooden floor, and Liara backed away, her left hand clenched into a fist.
"I don't . . . like . . . swords." She forced the words out through clenched teeth, trying to calm herself out of the panic that had filled her with the touch of the weapon.
"Very well," Bredan said, confused by her sudden aversion. "You may go to the archery field."
Liara almost ran from the building.
With her gone, Weaponsmaster Bredan bent to pick up the sword she had dropped, and picked it up with care.
He had given her a blunt practice blade, but the sword he held was razor sharp.
*
Someone knocked on her door, but Liara finished arranging her belt before answering. They had supplied her with these pale gray tunics instead of her own black ones, but she would be damned if they made her lose her daggers as well!
Sure enough, when she opened the door, Kirstie's first reaction was to say in shock
"You're still carrying those?"
"Of course." Replied Liara, slightly amused by her vehemence, as she stepped out to join her. "I take them everywhere."
Kirstie surveyed them dubiously. "They don't look that bad, actually." She conceded. "They're a nice colour." She led Liara back to the dining room then, for breakfast.
After their meal, the bell rang for the start of lessons, and Kirstie took her out into the grounds for weapons training.
"What weapons do you know?" demanded the formidable Weaponsmaster, Bredan, when they entered the salle.
Liara, unintimidated in spite of the universal fearful respect people gave him, answered immediately. "I can shoot a bow accurately and well. I am proficient in unarmed combat, and I can use most edged weapons to defend myself."
The Weaponsmaster looked skeptical, and she had the feeling he would try to make a fool out of her - if he could. "Can you use those pretty little knives that you're carrying?" He asked her.
"Certainly, sir. They're my weapon of choice."
"Very well. Use them to defend yourself against my sword attack."
She drew both knives easily, and tilted one carefully so it reflected sunlight into his eyes. Bredan smiled in appreciation of this ploy, but merely moved aside. Liara waited as he drew his sword and took a fighting stance, holding her own weapons in a deceptively lazy grip. Bredan came towards her a swung a feint at her left side. She dodged it easily, but made no other move.
This process was repeated, with him swinging at Liara, and her merely deflecting, than refusing to follow up.
"What, are you battle shy?" He asked her at one stage in feigned puzzlement. "Why do you not attack?"
"You specified that I merely defend, Weaponsmaster." Liara replied.
"Defense is over! Now is the time for attack."
Liara smiled grimly. As she had hoped, he now thought her weapon shy. Defeating him would be easy. She danced across the floor and closed with him, making a controlled thrust which he jumped away from, startled by her sudden change in tactics. Then a deadly dance of blades - Bredan was good, though no match for either of her parents - before her final work.
Liara tripped, falling to the floor in a controlled tumble. The Weaponsmaster saw his opportunity and sent his sword slicing down to her head, in a move she could not stop -
Unless, of course, she had deliberately set the stage for this strike. Losing her feigned helplessness, she whipped her hands up, catching his sword between their crossed blades, before twisting her hands, sending Bredan's sword into a wall.
Then, before he could recover, she sent one razor edged blade straight for his chest, at an angle that would send her knife cleanly between his third and fourth ribs, reaching his heart.
The blade swept in its deadly strike, unalterable at its immense speed - and stopped, touching, but not even scratching his white tunic.
*
The salle, full though it was with Heraldic trainees, was full of echoing silence. Bredan stared in shock at the deadly knife still held steady by the astounding new trainee.
"Stand down, trainee." Bredan managed to say, still speechless with shock at her skill and cunning.
She nodded, and returned both blades easily to the sheaths that hung from her belt. The salle was filling with astonished murmurs, and she blushed slightly from the praise inherent in their tones.
"That was - well done." The Weaponsmaster managed. "Extremely well done! Could I please examine your weapons?"
She pulled one from its sheaf with her black-gloved hand and reversed it, offering him the hilt.
"Amazing!" He said as her hefted it experimentally. "A perfect weight and balance. It's a little overdecorated for my taste, but lovely work all same." He moved one hand as if to test the edge.
"Be careful, sir." She warned him. "The blade is sharp enough to cut through bone like butter."
He looked skeptical, but instead used his reinforced fighting gloves, pulling the strong leather over the blade. To his obvious surprise, the leather was cut in two with almost resistance.
"My, my," he said mildly, picking up the butchered glove and returning the knife to Liara. "You are full of surprises." He paused, then. "Do you happen to know the use of the sword?" He asked her curiously.
She squashed uneasy memories as she answered. "I'd really rather not use one, sir." She told him politely.
He picked out a practice sword and offered it to her. "I will teach you the sword." He told her firmly, and she took the weapon.
She held it in a slack grip, studying it unhappily, when suddenly memories overcame her.
. . . Brecke's foul blade ripping through her palm, infecting, polluting, the pain . . .
The blade clanged as it hit the wooden floor, and Liara backed away, her left hand clenched into a fist.
"I don't . . . like . . . swords." She forced the words out through clenched teeth, trying to calm herself out of the panic that had filled her with the touch of the weapon.
"Very well," Bredan said, confused by her sudden aversion. "You may go to the archery field."
Liara almost ran from the building.
With her gone, Weaponsmaster Bredan bent to pick up the sword she had dropped, and picked it up with care.
He had given her a blunt practice blade, but the sword he held was razor sharp.