After a few days, Asilia was finally permitted by Kane to partake in some physical activity. Perhaps this was more to Kane's benefit than Asilia's, for having the two members of stubborn royalty in the infirmary was a challenge. Neither sibling had the patience to rest and heal.
Asilia's recovery moved faster than Arthur's- which was to be expected considering his injuries. Asilia began helping the two healers in the infirmary and worked in the kitchens doing simple tasks. At Asilia's request, Kane and Raven scrounged her a pair of loose leggings, a tunic, and a belt. The thigh-length pale yellow tunic had been someone's old nightshirt, but Asilia had roughly embroidered brown vines along the collar and hems to make it more her own. It was not a pretty job; Asilia had no decorative talent with needles and thread, but it was hers.
Bedivere would visit Asilia daily to chat about her past and plans for the future and hear how she was adjusting. When the rebellion leader learned of Asilia's experience with metal, he assigned her to join Rubio in maintaining the small armory the group had accumulated over the years. Asilia enjoyed the task of sharpening blades and polishing metal and came to appreciate the companionship of the younger squire. Only a year younger than Arthur, Rubio joined the rebellion after the King denied his wealthy merchant father new trade permits for refusing to participate in the transportation of enslaved people. Like many wealthy merchants who simultaneously lost their permits, Rubio's family fell into deep poverty.
Goosefat never visited.
A week later, Asilia was finally permitted to begin training again. Rubio and his mentor Percival joined her and Wet Stick daily to help Asilia regain her strength and help the two friends further their skills. Percival and Asilia were evenly matched, and Asilia enjoyed their friendly sparring. Rubio had yet to best Asilia, something Asilia noticed was beginning to bother the younger man.
Back Lack occasionally joined the group but had never been an avid sword fighter. He had an excellent knack for strategy and logic and an insane talent with a bow and arrow. Blue even began training with the group. Percival was a good teacher for the boy, showing him basic punches and tackles and familiarizing him with a wooden sword. Arthur was still prohibited from participating, and Kane even barred him from the training grounds to stop any funny ideas. Consequently, their days would conclude with Blue bouncing off the walls, sharing with Arthur what he learned and what he observed.
"So I hear the boy has been enjoying his time," Bedivere commented across the kitchen work table. Peas were on the menu tonight, and Bedivere joined Asilia in the repetitive task of shelling the legume.
Asilia smiled. "Knights and rebels surround him. What little boy wouldn't?"
Bedivere softly chuckled. "I'm sure our fighters are also enjoying the new set of ears to listen to their tales of exaggerated glory."
"Naturally," Asilia said teasingly. "I'm sure I've heard some of your stories amongst those that Blue has regaled. Exaggerated glory, you say?"
Bedivere's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Eh, perhaps."
Asilia laughed.
"It is good for him to listen to your stories," she added. "It helps distract him from everything that has happened." Her joy turned slightly bittersweet.
"Which stories raised you?" Bedivere asked.
Asilia's smile became melancholic. "Well, one benefit to growing up in a brothel is that the stories were always plentiful," she explained. "Mermaids, shapeshifters, figures of the night–every person has their fantasy."
"And how are you finding yourself, Your Highness?"
Asilia waved a hand at him. "Please, Bedivere, just call me Lia. And I am doing well. A bit stir crazy, however." She continued working on the peas. "The caves are cozy, but I miss the sky," she admitted.
Bedivere nodded in understanding. "Yes, of course. Even I find the stone oppressive at times," he commented. "You know you are permitted to venture outdoors, Your Highness?"
"Lia," she quickly corrected. Then, with a face of surprise, she added, "I did not know that. I suppose I assumed we had to be underground. You know, secret organization and all."
"A logical conclusion," he agreed. "However, these parts of the woods are relatively unknown. The patrolmen now know who you are. If one stays nearby and doesn't draw too much attention to oneself, anyone is free to enjoy the sunlight. Including you, Your Highness." This time, however, he added the royal title with a bit of mirth.
Asilia giggled. "Well, I'm glad my royal heritage allows me outdoors," she jested.
"You should enjoy the sunshine this afternoon," Bedivere offered. "One of our men predicts winds will bring rain tomorrow."
"Perhaps I will," Asilia affirmed. "It would be a lovely change in scenery."
Once her morning chores were complete, Asilia found herself in the forest surrounding the cave system. Asilia breathed deeply, feeling the fresh air cleanse her lungs exhilaratingly after so many days of being cooped up indoors. With her blade at her side and her sharpening tools in her pouch, she strolled through the trees until she came across a small creek. A perfectly placed log made it the perfect site to sit and enjoy the open air.
After getting situated and comfortable, Asilia let her mind quiet as she took the whetstone to her blade. The only things occupying space were the birds' songs, the creek's trickle, and the metallic rasp of the repeated motion. The sun gently filtered through the trees, dappling Asilia's skin. Hair had already begun escaping her braid and tickled her ears in the soft breeze. After much chaos, finally, some peace.
Her time with Jorgen did not leave her a master of the blade. The work produced by his shop was always shortcutted, half-done, and quick. Nonetheless, Asilia learned. Years spent pounding metal by the furnace made her strong; her curiosity and determination to learn how to make her blade made her smart.
She would spend the few hours she wasn't working for Jorgen in the shops of great masters, offering herself as a cleaner. In the shadows, she would study and take notes to apply to her craft.
Getting the metal for her blade had been another challenge. The price of the material alone had always been exorbitant, but in addition, most suppliers only sold to well-established smithies. No one would even look Asilia's way when she inquired to purchase some herself. Wet Stick would pressure Asilia to tell Arthur, for he would get his hands on the goods in no time with his connections, but Asilia was stubborn. She wanted the blade to be hers solely.
Eventually, Asilia managed to get the metal to be purchased by Jorgen's shop without Jorgen knowing. The final hurdle was finding the time and space to make her sword. However, this ended up being the easiest obstacle of them all. Jorgen was so disorganized and such a drunk that Asilia rarely had to worry about getting caught.
The blade she now sharpened was simple. No adornment crested its hilt. It was not perfectly balanced. The pommel was malformed and far from the perfect sphere she attempted to hammer, but it was hers. Years of training by herself and with George and his men had made the sword an extension of her arm.
"So this is the blade that left Rubio with his tail between his legs," a voice called out, startling Asilia from her task.
From the direction of the caves, Goosefat Bill was approaching with his sword and stone.
"You startled me," Asilia said, her eyes glancing up at the elder man and hands returning to her work.
"Forgive me," Goosefat stated before sitting beside her on the log and beginning to sharpen his blade.
"And it wasn't this blade that embarrassed him," Asilia smirked. "It never left its sheath. My daggers were enough."
Goosefat chuckled.
"No wonder Percival thought it so odd that Rubio was taking it all so personally," Goosefat chaffed.
"He shouldn't take it personally," Asilia said. "He is a strong fighter. I happen to be too stubborn, and his companion was too daft."
"Ah yes, Seamus," Goosefat mulled. "Unfortunately for him, he has since been moved to kitchen duties. However, it appears to be better suited for his skills."
Asilia nodded. "Good," she stated. "His heart is in the right place. He just lacks discretion. He will still contribute to the cause, and this place will be much safer."
"May I?" Goosefat asked, his hand gesturing towards her sword.
Warily, Asilia passed him the hilt. It was her sword, yes, but she knew it was not perfect and worried about how Goosefat would receive it.
Goosefat confidently took the blade and took a few expert swings. The whistle of metal sang in the air.
"It's a very good weight," Goosefat commented. "But it is unbalanced."
Asilia hummed in agreement.
"There's too much mass where the hilt meets the blade," she explained. "No matter what I did, I couldn't get it to thin out without warping the width."
"You made this?" Goosefat asked, surprised.
"Well, I tried to make it," Asilia said. "But I couldn't balance it right, and the pommel is a monstrosity."
Goosefat nodded as his eyes studied the sword.
"I'm impressed," he admitted. "Making a sword is incredibly difficult. All masters have devoted decades to their craft. I could never create something half as good as what you have here."
"Unfortunately, working for a smithy making cauldrons and wagon parts does not translate well to blade craft," Asilia responded.
"You worked at a blacksmith's then," Goosefat said, handing Asilia back her sword. "That is hard, grueling work."
Asilia shrugged. "I like the work. It makes me feel strong."
Asilia went back to sharpening her blade, and Goosefat stood awkwardly to a side.
"Might I join you?" Goosefat finally asked, gesturing to the space on the log next to Asilia.
Without looking up, Asilia shrugged. "I don't own the log. You are free to sit wherever you would like," she answered.
"Thank you," Goosefat said. He joined Asilia, and the two worked in silence for some time.
"I've never heard of a woman taking the post," Goosefat chirped. "How did you find your way there?"
Asilia internally sighed. She didn't have much patience left for the man beside her.
"I essentially forced a man to hire me. He was a horrible drunk and never aware of his surroundings. His business was so poor, he had nothing to lose," Asilia bluntly stated.
"Was he a good mentor then?" Goosefat asked.
Asilia couldn't hold back her guffaw. "Not. He was a horrible man," Asilia answered. "He barely paid me, didn't do any work, and took all the credit."
"So you taught yourself everything?"
Asilia dunked her stone in the creek.
"Well, I did my best to teach myself, at least. I spent my days off just watching actual bladesmiths work their craft. None of them would ever take me on as an apprentice. Not considering my background," she explained.
Goosefat nodded in understanding. "Of course, you couldn't risk anyone recognizing you as the Princess of Camelot."
Asilia stopped what she was doing and stared at Goosefat incredulously.
"No, it was because I am a woman who was raised in a brothel by whores," she stated bluntly.
"Ah, yes, of course," Goosefat stammered, flustered. "Social barriers, and what-…not."
His ears were tinged pink with embarrassment.
Asilia rolled her eyes. She was tired of Goosefat's forced conversation.
The sounds of stone on metal and the breeze in the trees enveloped the forest once more.
"How about you show me?" Goosefat asked.
Asilia raised an eyebrow. "Show you what?"
"Your skill," he answered. "A bit of parrying would be quite fun, don't you agree?"
Asilia thought for a second before standing up.
"Alright," she conceded, "but only until three swats or disarmament."
"Naturally," Goosefat agreed.
The two made their way to a nearby clearing, their swords unsheathed. The polished edges glinted in the sunlight.
"I've meant to talk with you earlier," Goosefat chattered. "About your life… and everything. Do you still handle a bow?"
Asilia shrugged. "A little. Didn't have a teacher, though. Back Lack has the skill, but he can't explain jack shit about archery. I chose to stick with the sword."
Goosefat smirked. "Well, if I had been your teacher, you would have stuck with the bow."
Asilia twirled her blade in her hand to readjust the grip. "Maybe if you had been there, I would have been a lot of different things," she commented evenly.
"Well, let's see what you've got then," Goosefat declared too eagerly, trying to lighten the mood.
The two squared off, swords ready for one of them to make the first strike. Asilia moved first with a quick jab to the shoulder. Goosefat deflected with ease.
"Come on, Lia," Goosefat playfully taunted, "show me what you are really made of."
Asilia's next strikes came faster, the blade whistling in the air on a few of the swings. Goosefat matched her blow for blow, his face widening into a proud grin. "Good, good," he said. "Not that I expected anything different." And then, with a casual laugh, he added, "But I can tell I didn't train you. You fight quickly and in bursts. Maybe I can teach you some of my more technical skills."
Asilia found herself feeling incredibly frustrated at Goosefat's words. Of course, he didn't train her.
"No," she said flatly, her voice low, "you didn't train me."
Goosefat chuckled, oblivious to Asilia's tone. It only made Asilia more frustrated.
Asilia launched a new series of attacks with a renewed intensity. Her strikes were more brutal, faster, and far less measured. Goosefat's amused grin dimmed as he focused more on the match at hand. The clang of metal had long scared away the birds in the trees. All that was present was their bladesong and labored breathing. Neither fighter was successful at landing a hit.
"I see you are keen on proving yourself, Lia," Goosefat grunted between blocks and blows.
"Catching up for lost time, I suppose," she snapped in reply.
Goosefat's face twisted in confusion at Asilia's tone. He hadn't noticed anything prior that would indicate a change in mood. Perhaps she was getting frustrated by the lack of progress in the spar.
"We've been needing fighters like you and your brother for quite some time," Goosefat said in an attempt to compliment Asilia's skills once again.
He then swung his sword forward mightily. Asilia raised her sword to block, but the force pushed her back.
"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" Asilia bitterly snapped. "Just in time for my brother to die for a cause that wanted him to stay trapped in a harsh city until it was convenient for them."
Goosefat's rhythm faltered for a heartbeat at Asilia's words. The break was enough for Asilia to force him backward and earn her first swat to the older man's shoulder.
"One," she counted.
Still shocked, Goosefat could not give his customary snarky reply. Instead, "Oh" was all that left his lips.
Asilia attacked again. Soon, their swords were locked with a loud screech.
"Lia, you know staying where you were was his safest option," Goosefat reasoned. He pushed forward, forcing Asilia back.
As Asilia recentered herself following her stumble, Goosefat was swinging again, and all Asilia could do was defend rather than parry. The two broke apart and circled each other once more.
"I'm sorry, Lia," Goosefat said. "I wish I could have done more."
"Aye, I wish that as well," Asilia grunted as she lunged forward and swiped at Goosefat's shoulders.
The speed and height of the strike meant that Goosefat had to block awkwardly. Asilia took advantage of the weak defense and attacked again, this time at Goosefat's hips. She successfully landed her second swat on the former knight's side.
"Two."
The two went back to circling one another.
"I would dream of the day you would come for us, of the day we would leave the city," Asilia recalled. "It feels silly looking back at it all."
No sooner had Asilia finished her sentence than Goosefat pushed forward with enough speed to force Asilia to fight on the defense yet again.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there," Goosefat said regretfully between attacks.
Asilia scoffed. She refocused her energy on the match. Soon, a few dodged attacks and successful blocks were all Asilia needed to return to the same level as Goosefat.
"A lot has changed since we last met, I see," Goosefat stated, attempting to lighten the air and his guilt. "I'm proud of the strong fighter you become."
Asilia hmphed. She knew she was being immature and petty, but she wanted to be angry. After so many years, she just wanted to be angry for a god-damn moment.
Asilia's blade met Goosefat's with force, but her swings grew less precise, her energy shifting to something else. Goosefat–finally perceptive–saw the change in her movements.
He stepped back, lowering his sword slightly. "Lia–"
Asilia struck again.
"You know, I'm not truly upset about you being gone," she said between breaths. Another strike. "I figured out how to care for the both of us."
Her blade clashed with his, but she wasn't trying to land a hit anymore.
Goosefat exhaled as he deflected a half-hearted swing, stepping back again. "That relieves me more than you know–"
"Our ladies, goodness, they are everything to me. They gave us a roof over our heads, put food in our bellies. We managed," Asilia interrupted, dropping her stance altogether. "I didn't appreciate it at the time. I was too focused on leaving."
The fight was over, though neither had spoken the words.
Goosefat lowered his blade. "It's understandable to want to leave."
"Oh, be quiet, Goosefat," Asilia snapped. She turned away, running her free hand through her sweat-damped hair. "I'm not looking for comfort. Just let me be angry."
He didn't move, didn't try to reach for her. The fight had drained much of her fury, but her heart still burned in her chest, words demanding to be spoken. She turned back to him, her breathing uneven.
"You promised me that you would come back for us, that you would keep us safe." She took a steadying breath, but it did nothing to quell the ache in her voice. Her eyes burned.
"I'm not angry that you never came. I'm angry that I believed you." Her voice wavered. "I spent every day waiting for years. I couldn't be grateful for the life I was living because I was too busy looking over my shoulder, waiting for a promise that never meant anything."
Goosefat swallowed, his features pained. "Lia–"
Asilia shook her head, gripping the hilt of her sword like a lifeline, her face hot.
"You made a promise you couldn't keep. And I hate it because I've done the same," she painfully rasped. There it was–the truth that Asilia was trying to hide from. Just like Goosefat, she was doomed to fail.
Goosefat's expression shifted. At first, he was confused, but understanding took over his features as he saw the pain marring her visage.
"Seconds before my father was killed, I promised him I'd keep Arthur safe." Her voice was almost hollow. "But every morning, I wake up knowing that one day, I will fail. I won't be able to keep him safe." Asilia exhaled, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.
"My last memory of my father is a promise I will inevitably break," she murmured.
Goosefat finally stepped forward, his voice gentle and sword on the ground. "Asilia, you cannot think so lowly of yourself."
Asilia's eyes flicked up to meet his, and for the first time in their conversation, there was no heated expression on her face.
"Isn't that what keeps up going, though?" she mused, her voice heavy with cynicism. "Promises we know, deep in our hearts, we will never fulfill, but we devote our lives to anyway?"
Goosefat hesitated. His brows furrowed, and his jaw tensed. He took another step forward.
"That's a cold way of living in this world," he answered.
Asilia gave him a knowing look. "It's how you and I live."
Goosefat's breath hitched, and for a long moment, they just stood there, the space between them filled with millions of unsaid things. Then, finally, Goosefat let out a tired, wry chuckle, running a hand down his face.
"I suppose you are right."
Asilia huffed, the anger finally draining out of her. "I know I'm right," she grumbled, but her words held no snark, only quiet acceptance.
Then, with a shuddering breath, she let her sword slip from her grasp. She didn't hear the blade hit the earth as she stepped into the gap between them and wrapped her arms tightly around Goosefat, pressing her face against his shoulder.
For a moment, Goosefat didn't move. Then, with a deep, weary sigh, his arms came around her just as fiercely.
Their embrace was heavy–heavy with years of loneliness they carried apart when it was meant to be shared. But it also held something else—proof that, despite everything around them, they were still here, standing.
"I'm so sorry, Asilia," Goosefat whispered, his voice rough.
Asilia shut her eyes and gripped him tighter.
"I know," she breathed. And for now, that was enough.
After a few moments longer, the two went back to the caves quietly. There was no need to discuss what had occurred - they had an understanding. Running her hand along the cave walls, Asilia unconsciously led them to the training grounds. As they got closer, the cheers and clashes indicated that a good spar was underway.
The tunnels opened up to the training ground caverns. Sure enough, a small crowd had gathered to watch Percival, and Sir Bedivere have a go at it.
Asilia scanned the rabble and scowled when she saw Arthur sitting along the edge. However, her scowl turned into a smirk when she noticed Kane sitting beside him. Wet Stick and Rubio were also near the pair. She sneaked through the small crowd until she was standing next to her brother. Goosefat followed.
"I see you have a babysitter, Artie," Asilia teased.
Arthur side-eyed his sister, clearly annoyed. Kane tried to hide a cheeky grin.
"Haha, hilarious, Lia," Arthur drawled sarcastically.
Asilia knelt beside her brother and ruffled his hair.
"Well, someone has to keep you from leaping into a fight," she grinned, "and I am glad our lovely friend Kane has risen to the occasion."
Kane rolled his eyes humorously.
"Oh, please," he said. "The only reason we are here is because I couldn't trust him not to sneak around. At least now I can grab him by the neck if he tries to do anything idiotic."
Arthur sheepishly shrugged.
"What can I say? I am a horrible patient," Arthur joked.
"Somehow, that does not surprise me," Goosefat quipped.
The group laughed.
"So, who's winning?" Asilia asked.
"They're playing til three hits," Wet Stick explained. "So far, Percival got two, and Bedivere has none."
Asilia nodded.
"Alright, and who's winning here?" she asked, gesturing to the group.
The four of them stared at her blankly.
Asilia scoffed. "I know you have bets placed. Who might win big?"
"Well, the virtue of bets could be questioned, but-" Kane stammered.
"Arthur bet on Bedivere. The rest of us said Percival," Rubio interrupted. "In fact, Kane was the one who introduced the bet, contrary to his 'virtuous' words."
Kane blushed guiltily.
The group laughed again.
Goosefat flipped a coin to Rubio. "Add me in favor of Bedivere."
Wet Stick stared at Goosefat like he had two heads. "You want to bet on Bedivere now?! When Percival already has two hits, and he has none?!"
Goosefat's eyes sparkled. "I know my friend well enough to feel good about my wagers-"
Suddenly, the crowd erupted in cheers and groans. The group whipped to face the center, and their eyes widened when they saw Percival on the ground and Bedivere smiling smugly, his arm outstretched to help his friend.
"What!" Wet Stick sputtered. "He won!? How?! When?! We only turned away for a few seconds!"
Goosefat chuckled. "What can I say? Bedivere always wins."
"Come on, Percival, you lost me some coin!" Kane called out.
Now upright and dusting himself off, Percival shrugged.
"What can I say?" Percival responded. "The old man still has it."
"Again! Again!" the crowd began chanting.
Both Bedivere and Percival shook their heads at the request.
"Please, I can't lose my pride twice in a row," Percival laughed. Then, his grin turned mischievous. "However, there is someone I would like to see in the ring with our esteemed leader."
With his sword outstretched, Percival gave a dramatic twirl before pointing at the group. To no one's surprise, Arthur began to get up. Kane and Asilia were quick to drag him back down.
"Don't you dare, Percival," Kane warned. "He doesn't need your goading."
"Oh please, I know our sweet Prince is still under strict rest orders," Percival clarified. "I was thinking about our lovely Princess instead."
A chorus of ooooo's came from the rabble at Percival's proposition. Asilia rolled her eyes.
"Only if Sir Bedivere agrees. After all, I fear two fights may be too much for his joints," she replied cheekily.
Oooo's went round the group once more. Everyone's attention turned to Bedivere, awaiting his response.
With a fancy twirl of his sword, Bedivere playfully gestured toward the ring. The rabble cheered.
This will be fun, Asilia thought as she made her way to stand across from Bedivere. Around them, mumbles from onlookers placing bets could be heard.
"Come on, Lia, show him how it's done!" Wet Stick cheered.
Asilia twirled and gave Wet Stick a wink. She noticed Arthur looked… concerned, to say the least. She sent a confident smile his way.
"I'm excited for this," Bedivere told her as they readied themselves. "I've been waiting to assess your skills."
"Aye," Asilia agreed. "This is going to be fun. Let's give them a show, shall we?"
Bedivere beamed like a child.
"Three hits, just like before!" Bedivere announced to the crowd. "Are you ready?"
"Are you?"
Swords arched through the air before meeting in a clang reverberating through the cave. Asilia smirked as she saw a flicker of surprise cross Bedivere's face. With a twist of her arm, she pulled her sword away and struck again.
"You're stronger than you look," Bedivere commented as he blocked her jab.
"I'm used to it," Asilia grinned.
Bedivere laughed.
"I'm sure you are," he said.
He then swung his sword forward mightily. Asilia blocked, and the force pushed her back. Before she could recenter herself, Bedivere was swinging again from the left, and all Asilia could do was defend rather than parry. The two broke apart and circled each other once more.
"Good, you're quick, strong reflexes," Bedivere observed.
Asilia smiled at the praise from the experienced fighter.
Asilia lunged forward and swiped at Bedivere's shoulders. The speed and height of the attack meant that Bedivere had to block awkwardly. Asilia quickly took advantage of the weak defense and charged again, this time towards Bedivere's hips, and successfully landed a swat on the knight. Cheers erupted around them.
"One for the Princess!" Percival called out.
No sooner had Asilia landed her hit that Bedivere was already pushing forward with enough speed that Asilia was on the defense for quite some time. Metal singing was heard far and wide, and soon, a small crowd grew. From her peripheral vision, she noticed Blue seated with Arthur and Kane.
Bedivere's attacks were relentless, each swing and jab testing Asilia's endurance and skill. But while in her life Asilia was brash, with the sword, she was patient. Asilia focused on her breathing and maintained her defensive stance, waiting for the right moment to counter.
Asilia saw an opening when Bedivere's swing exposed his side for a split second. With a swift movement, she sidestepped and aimed her blade at his ribs. Bedivere managed to block, but the force of Asilia's strike pushed him back a few steps.
Both Asilia and Bedivere had matching grins on their faces despite their exhaustion.
Asilia pressed her dominance. She launched a series of quick, precise attacks, driving Bedivere back. She could hear the rabble begin to chatter as she met the experienced warrior blow for blow.
Asilia pushed harder and soon found another opportunity. With a great lunge, she swung at Bedivere's chest. Bedivere deflected the blow, but the force of the impact sent shivers down their arms. Bedivere responded with equal might, getting Asilia's shoulder before she could adequately defend.
"One for Sir Bedivere!" Percival called out.
Their audience roared as steel clashed against steel. Asilia danced around Bedivere's blade, her movements fluid and swift. Bedivere, however, had proven to be an immovable force, his sword swinging in powerful arcs that would have sent lesser opponents sprawling.
She lunged, aiming low, but Bedivere anticipated her move. She redirected her swipe and counter with a brutal downward swing. Asilia barely managed to spin away, kicking up dirt in her wake. What Bedivere had in experience and might, Asilia could meet with endurance and speed.
Once again, the two clashed in the middle in a fury of blades. The tide of the fight continuously turned, with neither party managing to land a second hit. The crowd responded to their exchange with cheers and groans, never leaving the cavern quiet. Even Arthur got involved at one point, shouting a frustrated "Get him, Lia!" when, for a fourth time, Bedivere managed to block her attacks. Both fighters were drenched in a layer of sweat.
"Not tired yet, Princess?" Bedivere huffed between parries.
Asilia scoffed. "I could do this all day, old man," Asilia replied playfully.
"Oh, I know you could," Bedivere chuckled. Then, with an expert flourish, he disengaged his blade.
"I propose a draw, Princess," Bedivere declared, lowering his sword to his side. Like Asilia, he was breathing heavily with a sheen of sweat on his face.
Asilia beamed. She could tell she had impressed the knight.
The crowd murmured in disappointment, clearly hoping for there to be a victor.
"Rubio!" Bedivere barked.
Startled, Rubio jumped up from the stump he was seated upon to watch the spar.
"Finish this fight with Princess Asilia for me, would you?" Bedivere nonchalantly ordered, gesturing towards the floor.
"Of course, Sir," Rubio stammered as he awkwardly approached the middle of the circle.
Asilia smirked as she caught Bedivere's wink as he walked to take the spot where Rubio had been sitting. The crowd complained about the fighter change.
"Not the flubbering fool," someone bemoaned.
"Come on, Rubio, stand strong, boy!" Percival called out.
"You think he'll do well?" Asilia heard Goosefat quietly ask Percival.
"No," Percival laughed. "I don't even know if I could do well. I just hope he doesn't fall flat on his face this time."
Well, what better time to help Rubio's image then, Asilia thought as she stretched while waiting for Rubio to settle himself.
"Are you ready?" Asilia asked.
With a curt nod, Rubio puffed out his chest and forced a snarl on his face.
If Asilia hadn't planned on helping Rubio's reputation, she would have laughed right then and there. The poor lad looked ridiculous. But no, instead, Asilia smirked once more and readied herself.
Rubio struck out first, choosing to jab at her torso rather than swing. With an upward sweep, Asilia deflected the blow and then redirected her blade to swing back toward him. At the last second, Rubio raised his sword to deflect the blow, forcing him to stumble back sloppily.
With a grunt of exasperation, Rubio lunged forward once again, this time swinging his arms up to bring them back down powerfully. Asilia raised her blade to meet Rubio's with a loud clang. Her stance did not falter as she batted his sword away and darted forward, resulting in the flat part of her sword smacking against Rubio's thigh. She then pulled away and began slowly walking the perimeter of the circle.
"One for the Princess," Bedivere proclaimed.
"Oi!" Rubio exclaimed.
"You know she's much stronger than she looks, Rubio," Percival counseled his mentee from the side. "Swings of brute force aren't going to get you anywhere."
Asilia watched as a dark shadow of frustration etched across his face. She knew she would have to guide him to give him a fighting chance.
"Rubio," she called out, her voice firm, "focus on your footwork. Balance is key."
Rubio's face looked confused momentarily, wondering why his opponent would give him advice.
Asilia fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"Like this," she huffed. She recentered herself in the form George had drilled into her countless times.
Rubio nodded. He adjusted his stance, grounding himself more firmly. This time, when Rubio charged, his movements changed noticeably. He was more measured and controlled.
He feigned to the left, and Asilia stepped to counter, but he quickly switched his direction, catching her off guard. His sword connected with her side, the flat of the blade tapping against her lightly. Asilia grinned inwardly.
"One for Rubio," Bedivere announced.
"Good, Rubio!" Percival encouraged. "Keep thinking on your feet."
Rubio's confidence grew with his mentor's praise. He pressed his advantage, and his attacks became more intentional and faster. Asilia let herself appear increasingly off-balance, giving him small windows to exploit. She deflected each of his blows but allowed him to drive her back step by step.
Finally, Rubio caught her sword arm in a lock, disarming her with a quick twist. Asilia let her sword clatter to the ground, raising her hands in surrender. Most of the rabble groaned in disappointment. Her friends cheered at Rubio's improvement, Percival being the loudest of the bunch.
"Well done, Rubio," she said sincerely.
Still in shock, Rubio awkwardly nodded as some mates ran into the ring to cheer for him.
Happy with the attention focused on Rubio, Asilia stood by her brother again. She leaned on the wall, then quickly decided she was tired of being upright. She let her back slide down until she sat on the cave floors. Arthur wouldn't stop staring.
"Lia, Lia, Lia, that was incredible!" Blue beamed as he bounced off the walls.
"Agreed," said Goosefat. "I don't think I've ever witnessed Bedivere calling a draw. Consider it a win."
Asilia sighed as her exhaustion caught up. "Well, had to give them a show."
Then, redirecting her attention to Blue's bouncing, she added, "Now go with Goosefat to congratulate Rubio. He has been working with Percival to teach you. Give him thanks."
Understanding Asilia's desire to have a moment without the energetic boy, Goosefat beckoned Blue to join him in the middle of the ring. Kane followed.
"Alright, you can stop staring at me like I have purple warts across my face." Asilia voiced. "Spit it out, whatever has made you so… you."
Arthur kept staring, and Asilia got ready to give her brother a light smack on the head.
"Didn't know you had that in you," Arthur finally said. "Must say, I am impressed. Thought Wet Stick was being Wet Stick when he said you took down close to twenty Black Legs the night of the burning."
"Hey!" Wet Stick protested. "I'm right here!"
Asilia pushed the hair stuck to her sweaty forehead away. "Well, to be fair, I did not fight all those Black Legs at once," she huffed.
Arthur laughed. "I should've known when Goerge said he was teaching you to protect yourself, he meant teaching you to master a sword," he said.
Asilia and Wet Stick joined Arthur's laughter.
"Of course, what more would you expect?" she teased.
Arthur shook his head in sarcastic disappointment.
"I'll have to see for myself what you can do," he proclaimed.
Wet Stick's eyes widened. "Come on, boss, you just saw what she can do." Asilia just smirked at Arthur's antics.
"Nope, not good enough," he bantered. "You and I should go up next so that I can really test you."
Asilia stared up at Arthur with a raised eyebrow. Wet Stick matched her expression.
"Kane has not yet cleared you to do anything strenuous. You can bet your arse that I am not about to spar you," she said in case Arthur was being serious (which wouldn't have shocked anyone).
Arthur's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Oh, I see. You're scared of your itty-bitty brother embarrassing you," he goaded.
Asilia laughed, playing along. "Oh, believe me, I'm not scared. If you want to tease me, tease me for being tired and lazy, not scared. I want some food and drink after all of that."
"Well, I'm sure that can be arranged," Bedivere chimed in as he approached the trio. "You did well, Princess," he added.
"Please, just Lia," Asilia said. "And thank you. You are a fun opponent. We should do this again sometime soon."
"Perhaps," Bedivere replied. "But I didn't come here just to congratulate you and offer you food. We have intel that things are moving quickly. I want us to have a strategy meeting tonight," he said to them.
The mood shifted as they were reminded of what was to come. Vortigern would not go quietly. If anything, the spars of the day showcased how likely they were to survive in their struggle to reclaim the throne. It was a chilling reminder that some would never see a crown grace Arthur's head.