A/N Here's the newest! Hope you enjoy it! And thanks for all my reviews.
Chapter Four:
The official training began one week later. And to Tori's surprise, it was nothing like the training she had endured the week before. It was harder. And more intense by far. Derek and his squad broke away from the rest of the Own to train by themselves.
Derek's squad consisted of eight hardened warriors, two of which were from the original squad, the other six had been moved up from another squad within the Own. She had seen them around the barracks and during the previous training sessions and she had seen why they were chosen to be put in Derek's squad. She and another young man who looked to be about twenty were the only two completely new to the Own.
As of the moment, they were standing in a line, facing the outside ring of a very large practice court. The look she had gotten of it told her that it was big enough to hold three of the courts she had trained in earlier. She wasn't quite sure what they needed that much space for, but she was willing to give it a shot.
Derek stepped into the building that housed the huge area and stepped in front of the line of soldiers. He looked each one over, stopping on her, for she was the last in line. He didn't have a smile on his face.
"Run three laps!" he barked in a rough voice, one that brooked no argument. She was slightly taken aback at the tone, but turned to run with the rest of them. She tried to keep the pace nice and easy, but everyone was running faster then her and she could hear Derek calling them to stick together, so she sped up.
By the time the third lap started, she was sick to her stomach and sucking for air like a fish out of water. And the soldiers in front of her hadn't slackened their pace once. Only her sheer determination to not be left behind kept her going. When they stopped in front of Derek, her legs were shaking and she had to bend over to gain control of her stomach.
"Grab a practice sword," he barked again. She scrambled to do so, not sure if she could even lift the thing. Her arms were shaking in her exhaustion. "Form two lines!"
She did as he ordered, as did the rest of the soldiers. She got paired with one of the veterans. She could have groaned.
"Right line! One my count, hit the left side, the right side, then the front. Left side, on my count, block the left side, block the right side, and block the front! Side, side, front!"
The soldier, his name was Harlo, she thought, had no mercy. He struck with all his strength, it seemed, sending the ripples of his hit up her already quaking arms. It took more strength then she thought she had to turn them aside. Over and over, Derek called the count and each time, it was harder for her to turn them aside. Blessedly, he called for a switch and it was her turn to attack.
She had never been good at outright attacks, and her weakened state didn't help. But she managed to connect each time, even if he turned them aside easily. Her face creased in concentration as she watched his movements, forgetting her fatigue in her study. She wanted to make him work for it too, she thought, and began pinpointing the spots where he seemed weaker. She had been hitting at the base of his sword, where it was easier to turn it aside. She's have to fix that. The next hit she struck was at the very tip, and it threw him off balance by the slightest bit so when she struck on the next count, he had to work harder to turn it aside. She continued this, making him work harder each time, for she was hitting harder as her confidence boosted.
"On my count!" Derek called and she stopped. She looked up at Harlo and saw laughter twinkling in his eyes. "Right line, strike high the left side, middle to the right side, low to the left side! High left! Middle right! Low left!"
This continued for several more minutes, then it was her turn. By this time, all thoughts of exhaustion were gone and she simply did as instructed as best she could without thinking about it. Barely mid morning and she was already ready to drop.
When they were done with swords, Derek called for another two laps. She managed to keep up with everyone, but how she couldn't say. When the laps were done, he called for them to lie on the ground on their backs. When they were there, he explained that they were to cross their arms over their chests and bring their elbows up to their knees using only their stomachs as leverage. Crunches, he called them. When he began counting for the crunches, it was obvious she wasn't very good at them. Next he called for them to do pushups. These she was slightly better at, because she had some muscles in her arms, but she wasn't as good as the other soldiers.
When that was complete, he called them to stand around him while he spoke in a much softer voice. "We'll break for lunch. Drink lots of fluid and have a good-portioned lunch. We'll met back here in two hours, with horses. Have your bows with you. We'll do some mounted combat training. Dismissed."
Tori's shoulders relaxed as the order was given. Her body was trembling by now and she was ready for a break. She trotted off to the mess hall and ate. Domiar sat with her, as did Bradley and the redheaded twins. Harlo stopped to say hello to her, which surprised her because she hadn't thought he had liked her. He had had a scowl on his face the whole time. All too soon, the two hours were up and she had her horse gathered and in the training ring. She grabbed a practice sword and got into line with the rest of the soldiers. Derek arrived on his horse also and called for them to pair up.
Harlo approached her with a small smirk on his lips. He nodded to her and she nodded back. It seems she had made a friend within her squad. That delighted her. But her delight soon faded. She, it soon became known, stunk at that type of combat.
She could do it in her mind, could fight on horseback, duel with Harlo within her imagination. But when it came time to do it in real life, she just plain stank. On foot, she couldn't attack out right, and on horseback she couldn't either. All her defensive moves that she used on foot held no meaning on the horses back. Fighting from horseback involved many more things then just her feet and her sword. She had to use the horse, had to maneuver it where she needed it to go. She had to watch the other person's horse and his sword. There were so many different things to concentrate on. It boggled her mind and frustrated her, and with each swing and block she made, she became more and more clumsy. It really was a pathetic display.
She could have wept with gratitude when Derek called a halt for the day. She didn't know how much more humiliation she could take.
"Torick? May I speak with you?" Derek called as they shuffled their horses from the ring. She nodded and slunk over to him, her head down in shame. "I see you need some extra practice on this area. Is that right?"
"Yes, sir," she whispered, trying to hide the tremble in her voice. She hated the fact that it was there.
"When would you like to begin extra training? I'm free most afternoons after training. Does tomorrow sound good to you?" she looked up at him sharply, wondering why he was being so lenient about this. Or so nice. He had been barking out orders all day, and now he was asking her?
"That sounds good, sir," she said softly, looking up at him through her lashes, a habit that made her seem girly to him.
"Good, tomorrow it is then. I still expect you to keep up with the rest of the training though, so don't let this—"
"Derek!" a feminine voice called from across the ring. She looked up to see a girl, one that she had seen before, crossing the ring to them. "The boy's family has finally come and identified him. They're holding the wake tonight. They request that you—"
"Don't shout like a heathen, Mira!" Derek scolded, neatly cutting across his sister's words. Tori had no misgivings that he didn't want her to hear what was being said. "Soldier, you're dismissed."
She bowed to him and led her horse from the building. But she knew what was being said. Robert's family had come. He was being put through the burial ceremony. Tonight was her last night to make peace with him. She knew it was risky, but her heart ached for him. She was going to the temple and she would give him an explanation so his soul could find peace with the Gods.
Mira watched as the young man, boy really walked his horse from the yard. When she had first seen him, she had been struck with the thought that he was a very pretty boy. His silky blond hair had glistened with torchlight in the arena and his pale cheeks had flushed. His eyes, which shimmered green had held a sad look in them, one that touched her heart, called to her.
"Who was that?" she asked as her eyes followed him out the door until it closed blocking off her view of him.
"Torick. New recruit. He seems well enough. Why?" Derek looked at his sister, saw the dopey look in her eye and sighed. She was hopeless, he thought as he turned to grab his mounts reigns and began leading his horse from the stable. His sister may dream of becoming a knight like their mother, Kel, but she was also a hopeless romantic and always falling in and out of love with all the different people of the court.
"Oh. He's very handsome," she said, looking at him slyly, battering her eyelashes at him. "Want to introduce me?"
"What did you come for Mira?" he asked, exasperated, but amused at the same time.
"Father would like me to request for him that you keep a vigil at the boy, Robert's, ceremony tonight so as to apprehend any suspicious people, manly the person you suspect committed the crime. It's being held tonight, at the palace. He wants you there as soon as possible. And are you sure that you can't introduce me?"
"Thanks Mira, and no," he smiled, patted his sister fondly on the shoulder and left the building. He would take a knife with him, to the temple, just in case. The woman, Tori, if she showed, could be dangerous. Most would say he wouldn't need it, for she was just a woman after all.
But he had a feeling, way down in his gut that she would come. And he would get a chance to catch her and put her to justice. He could hardly wait.
Torianna slipped into the back of the chapel, her brown, nondescript cloak tight around her, the hood lowered over her face. She had tried to come earlier but Domiar had held her back with some tasks. Now, she wasn't alone. The whole chapel was filled with people, nobles and such that had known Robert or his family.
She felt nervous at the thought of being discovered. It had only been a week since the accident, but she had denounced everything she had known. Torianna no longer existed. Just Torick. If Torianna was alive, then there was a way for people to find her, for people to hurt her. Bringing her so blatantly into a crowd made her hands shake.
Almost every seat in the chapel was filled. She had to take the only available seat, which was in the middle section of the left side. She couldn't see any of Robert's family so she sat slowly, her head bowed as she prayed for his soul. The cleric came into the room and began to speak the ancient verses over Robert's prone figure.
It was halfway through the second verse that she felt several pairs of eyes on her. All of them filled with hostility. Her back stiffened and her murmured prayers became that much louder as the animosity grew. Soon, she was shivering from the force, but she couldn't back down now. They would realize how weak she really was.
The cleric's voice came to a rest. It was time for the people to walk to the body and give it their respects and final words. She rose with the rest of the people, her eyes searching through the crowd for the owner of the eyes, hoping to spot him before he spotted her so she could slip away unnoticed first.
Her eyes found him, but her chance for escape was lost. He was striding towards her, fury in his eyes as they focused on her chest. On the ring that rested on her chest. Never before had she laid eyes on this man, but she knew that he knew her, and she knew that that was bad. She shivered and with a cry that was wrenched from her throat unwarranted, began to push her way through the people to the aisle. If she made it there, she could make a run for it.
The last person blocking her way stepped to the side and she stumbled onto the clear aisle. But as she turned to leave, a hand grabbed her cloak, pulling it back, causing the hood to fall and her brown hair to spill free.
"Torianna!" cried a feeble, overjoyed voice that she knew very, very well. It passed over her ears even as dread hardened in her stomach. "We thought you were dead!"
Torianna turned so she could see the tear stained face of Robert's oldest sister Marianna. Her blue eyes, so similar to Robert's welled with tears before she buried her face in Torianna's course brown dress. She wanted so badly to push the little girl away and run, but she had lost sight of the man and she didn't know where to run, where was safe. Her body tensed, every muscle on the edge of movement, poised to run at the slightest provocation, as she searched the crowd that had gathered around her and the sobbing child.
The crowd parted to the side and a man stepped through. For one agonizing second of pure terror she thought it was the man that had killed Robert, but it wasn't. It was Robert's father, Josh.
Her nostrils flared as she sucked in air, her eyes glued to the furious man's face. She had never liked him before, and he had always hated her. It was the perfect combination of dislike. Josh had always thought Robert had been having an affair with Torianna. He had blamed everything that went wrong in Robert's life on her. She wasn't surprised when he blamed Robert's death on her too.
"You bitch!" he seethed storming forward and slapping her across the face, his hand open. The force behind the strike knocked her to the side and to her knees. Marianna whimpered as she clutched all the harder at her dress. The second strike knocked other completely to the floor.
Where are your skills now? She pleaded with herself as feet began pummeling into her back; she curved around the small child, shielding her from the blows. She could hear curses and screams and people yelling, someone calling to stop the violence. But none of it really penetrated the fog around her mind. Her senses were singing, and a strange sensation came over her.
Her senses reached farther and farther, reaching beyond anything she had thought possible, beyond her beyond the people ringing around her, past Robert's figure and through a door in the back, where the man she had seen before had gone. He was in a small chamber, bowing before a man whose face was shrouded in shadows. Beside him stood the black demon that had killed Robert. She shuddered but didn't pull back.
The man from the crowd was speaking now, in an accent she couldn't quite place. She had heard it before, but from where was escaping her memory. "I saw her, master. She was in there. But she ran into a crowd and I couldn't move in."
The man's voice trembled with what she recognized as terror. It seems she wasn't the only one who feared these men.
"But you saw her face? You know what she looks like?" the master, as the man had called him, had a strong voice, also with an accent, but his was stronger, more noticeable.
"Aye, master. I saw her face. And I saw the ring. It is as you said. It glows when it touches her skin. What manner of magic is this? How much do we have to fear from her?"
"Much my bower… very much. She is the…and with the sword… she must never find… or we will be doomed," she was being pulled back into her body, their words fading. She caught only small fragments of the last sentence before she was returned fully to her body, one hand fisted tightly around the ring at her neck, the other around the child who had ceased her tears.
Her body was stiff and taught with pain. She moaned as she tried to move, but her back was so mottled with scars she couldn't manage it. Silence, she thought as her eyes fluttered open, seeing many blurred faces, but hearing no sound.
"Tori?" the little girl whispered, looking up at the face of the woman who had protected her. "Are you all right?"
Torianna nodded and tried to stand, to move, but could only manage to whimper. Her ribs hurt with each breath she drew in, sharp pains through her middle. Her face burned from the open slaps, and her legs were cramping in there drawn up position.
"Someone, help her," she heard a plea from the crowd but wasn't sure who said it. Her vision was wavering, fading into black. The last thing she saw before she drifted completely away was Derek's face over her own, frowning as usual. She smiled faintly as her head relaxed against he ground, unconscious.
When she came too, she was alone in the healing ward of the palace. It seems the people who had captured her had deemed her to hurt to make an escape attempt. She sighed at her good fortune. She didn't know what they would do to her, if they would be kind, or listen to Robert's father, and she didn't want to find out either.
She stood slowly, fighting back the rush of dizziness that was followed closely by pressure and then a deep pain in the forehead. Her back ached, as did her ribs. But she was alive, and capable of moving.
The door opened easily when she turned the knob and with careful steps, she walked from the room, down the hall and out into the night. She hadn't expected it to be so easy, but now that she was this far, she wouldn't stick around.
Her feet carried her from the palace and out into the city. She would visit another healer and have her wounds completely fixed. She didn't want any sign of them left over for Derek to notice. Torick hadn't been at the chapel, so Torick couldn't have any bruises.
Suddenly, as she walked quietly down the streets, she was struck with a memory. A memory that wasn't her own. She stood still as her vision went green before clearing into a scene from someone else's life.
The woman stood from the bed, her tattered dress barely hanging from her shoulders. She didn't bother wiping the tears from her wet cheeks. To wipe them away would be to acknowledge the weakness within her. She wasn't weak, she was the strongest woman in the world. One man who thought he owned her would never change that. Couldn't change that. Never again would she allow herself to be so helpless.
She grabbed the ring, the emerald blazing at her touch, from the table beside the bed that she had hated so much. She slipped it onto her finger as she walked through the door and didn't look back. This, she thought, will be the sign of my freedom, and my strength.
A/N Okay, so that was it. What'd ya think? Huh? HUH? lol. I added in some more mystery, gave some subtle hints. There'll be more coming up. Oh, and don't ask me why no one was there guarding her. I won't tell. lol. Revie me!
Nubia