I surveyed the mass of people who were sword fighting in before me, When I saw 2 new faces I looked even closer having found what I was looking for.

The men were older, perhaps in their early thirties. Their bodies looked to be nothing but muscle. The movement made with the swords they held made it apparent that they were no beginners, but not experts either. One of the two, who was unnaturally tall, wore a smug look on his face, a look that you could never decide if he was born with his face like that, or he if had worn that snobbish look so often that it became permanent. He over exaggerated each of the movements, the constant swinging and swirling of his sword was meant to impress but really just gave the impression of arrogance.

I smiled to myself, I had found exactly what I was looking for; my daily challenge.

Eager to duel I started questioning Zard. "Who are they?" I asked nodding in their direction.

Zard immediately responded, "Knights from the country of Clatito. He pointed to the tattoo imprinted on their biceps. It was of a line roaring his mouth in shape of a C, the country emblem. Zard than continued, "They claim to be looking for their princess. But I believe they are fleeing from their country, which is rumored to be up in flames and under attack by the country of Buraned."

He looked at me cocking up his eyebrow "since they've been here they've done nothing but boast of their skills with the sword."

I smiled and raised my eyebrow in reply; my way of saying they were my targets. I left zard and walked straight toward the knights, I stopped when I was a few feet away from them and started to warm up. I could feel their eyes watching me as I started into my usual pattern dances. I was proven correct when the smug looking knight burst out laughing.

I turned to face him, now having the chance to give him a closer look. His orange hair clashed with the lions orange on his tattoo. His had palest skin I had ever seen, not to mention once again that he was unnaturally tall and gangly, and to top it all up he had a screeching laugh that sounded high and unnatural.

His knight friend who was short and the same orange hair and fair skin just stood there. He seemed to be the guy who got caught up with the wrong people and thought he was in to deep to get out. By reading his posture like the way he hung his head and stared at his feet, his every movement suggested "awkward" and "unsure".

Zard is to blame for my judgment of people, and my able ness to read body posture by how they hold themselves and act. Zard said it was critical to sum up your opponents personality because it's portrayed in how they fight. If they acted sure of themselves, they fought over confident, or if they acted unsure, they fought unsure.

The smug knight spared me one glance before sneering "A GIRL! A Girl with a sword? You have GOT to be kidding me! Go back to where you belong before I am forced to put you back in your place!"

Our country had granted Women equal right only about 10 years ago, during the reconstruction that had taken place after overthrowing of king Girvin. We were on of the few countries to allow such rights; the idea of equal rights was still considered blasphemy in many other countries.

The people near by us started to laugh over hearing the knight. My smile grew larger because I knew why they laughed. It was not as the knight believed, that they were actually laughing with him at this girl with a sword, but that they were laughing at him.

They all knew my daily ritual and what I was up to, they all had witness it many times, in fact at one time or another most were in his spot. I have been coming here many years practicing sword fighting, so I knew most of the people that came here, unless like the knights, they were from another town or country and were only visiting.

"What are you smirking at girl? You do not believe me? Come let's see what you can do with that sword, but don't start crying when I scar that face of yours. Although I don't think it can make it any uglier."

"I assume that is a challenge?" was my calm response; my eyes watching as a crowd begin to form around us, enclosing us in a circle of onlookers.

As it was common when challenging someone to a sword fight with most nobles and knights, he picked up his glove and slapped me across the face with them. Of all the traditions I hated this one the most. They used it because it was to embarrass their opponent and to injure their pride so they would accept. They all accepted the challenge when this happened, because they all had a lot of pride.

"It is a challenge, and don't you sass me, I'm worth more than you will ever be, and unlike you, I knew who my father was and I am not and will not be filth from the street. Come now, I don't have time to spend on filth like you, lets put you back in your place once and for all" he continued to taunt.

Anger now flamed inside me, adrenaline flowed through my veins, "I'm afraid that it is YOU who's going to be put back in their place sir benevolent knight."

I was about to take a step forward and launch into my attack when I felt a hand on my shoulder pulling me back.

"He does not know what he's in for Kie. Your cant faults him for his ignorance when so many hold his opinion. You challenge people like this everyday and he probably does so only once a month, if that. Don't ruin his pride to much; otherwise it will only be trouble. He will not let you alone until he disgraces you in any way he can. You know it's true, it's happened before. Make it a short one today." Brence spoke honestly and wisely as always, but his speaking was rare. I had come to realize that when he did speak, you listened.

I gave him a curt nod, so he knew I heard him and agreed. He withdrew his hand from my shoulder and I took a step forward, eyeing the haughty knight before me.

I noticed he was at least 1½ feet taller than me. I've had bigger challengers so I knew I had nothing to worry about when it came to his height.

"Five silvers that the girl wins," I heard Stevan bet the knights mate who was still remaining silent as ever.

I laughed silently, as my daily challenge was traditional, so was Stevan betting on me when I dueled them. Stevan knew it was easy to cheat money off of people who had not seen me fight with a sword before.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as the knight swung his sword at my head, I quickly blocked the blow and launched into attack. After going in a few circles I saw his weakness to block his left side (the side without a sword). I quickly jabbed toward his left and as he tried to block the blow I rotated my wrist knocking the sword from his hand, and held my sword to his neck.

The crowd groaned, they were disappointed I didn't do my usual teasing of letting the other opponent think they had a chance of winning and letting them become over confident. Once that happened I quickly disarm them, and they realize they had no chance to start with.

Don't think bad of me, I only did that when they deserved it I swear! But today I didn't do it only because Brence wished me not to, and when Brence talks, you listen, because he seldom speaks or tells you what to do.

I offered my hand to shake hands with knight, who chose to ignore it. I rolled my eyes and walked away.

"You're becoming over confident, soon you shall be like him," came Zard's voice from behind me.

I sighed inwardly knowing what was coming. When ever Zard thought I was becoming over confident he would duel me until I had no strength left. Zard is one of the few people I have never beaten, or come close to beating; it was going to be a long morning.

Later that day (after morning)

Hours late my muscles screamed in agony, sore from the brutal beatings and over use.

Zard had beaten me; in fact, he totally demolished me when we dueled. But I guess I shouldn't feel too bad, no one has ever beat Zard, that is, if they hadn't run after taking one glance at him. It was not that Zard was ugly, but rather that he was tall and toned with muscles; he has these yellow-green eyes that seemed to bore into you and to see everything that you wanted to keep hidden, such as all your fears, weaknesses and thoughts. He also had this long perfectly straight black beard that grew to the middle of his chest, and it was the only hair on his head (he was bald; his head is very shiny might I add). His face was a collection of scars and age lines. His appearance drew up the image of dignity, and intimidation. Most people were scared out of their wits to be around him and even more scared to fight him.

I can see why Zard was intimidating but for some reason I have never been intimidated by him, but not just by him though, but by anyone. Maybe that's not a good thing though, maybe I should be scared of Zard, so than I would stop taking these brutal beatings by him and his sword.

A bath was sounding pretty darn good right about now, in fact I'm going to go take a nice hot one in the bath house to ease my aching muscles.

As I started to limp, no, drag, myself to the bath house I heard my name being called.

"Kie wait up!" I sighed and slowed down as I turned to see Brence running up to me.

"I just wanted to say thank you for listening to me, knowing you it was probably hard to do so."

I listened slightly confused at first, than I remembered he told me to keep the challenge with the knight short.

"Couldn't you have told me this at the house?" honestly I don't know why he had to thank me right now, especially when the bath house was calling to me.

"Yea, but I rather not do it in front of the guys, especially Stevan; he would never let it go." He smiled his half smile bashfully, his extremely tan face glistening in sweat from the morning sun and workout. He shook the sweat out his curly deep dark brown hair that matched the color of his eyes perfectly.

I crinkled my eyes, gross, I thought as the sweat landed on me. "Good point. Stevan hates it when you ruin what could be a long sword fight. But I must get to the bath house, my muscles are killing me and I can hardly stand, I'll be at the house soon."

As I walked away I heard Brence call to my back, "You know, for someone who likes to lower others pride, you have a lot of it yourself."

I frowned slightly, Brence was right, but the thought was chased out of mind as my legs cried in agony as I continued to stumble down the path to the bath house.