Read Online Fable: Edge of the World by Christie Golden - Free Book Online
Authors: Christie Golden
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merciless arc, Laylah screamed and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Laylah,” said Page’s voice, calm and slightly annoyed, “we agreed that screaming was not the right thing to do.”
“Actually,” Laylah said, her voice quivering slightly as she opened her eyes and picked up her dropped weapon, “when you think about it, it would be a fine thing to do.”
“No, we discussed this,” Page reminded her, grinning a little. “Scream at the
start
if someone attacks you, and you’d like help. Then fight your enemy off until help arrives.” She went to the sideboard and poured water from a crystal pitcher for herself and her friend.
Laylah took a few gulps, then said, “You’re right, of course. I panicked. I’m sorry.”
“I’m glad you recognized it,” said Page, squeezing Laylah’s arm warmly. “That’s why we’re doing this. The more you practice and get familiar with coming under ‘attack,’ the more you will become used to the idea. If something ever does happen, then you won’t be paralyzed by fear.”
The two women were dressed in shirts, trousers, and boots. Page had said it was easier to learn the movements without the encumbrance of skirts. “Although once I had to fight in a formal costume,” she said. “That was interesting.”
“Oh?” asked Laylah. “Against whom?”
Page made a sour face. “Your husband and I were pitted against a variety of opponents by one Mr. Reaver.”
Laylah was startled. “What? He never told me. I knew thatMr. Reaver wasn’t very popular because of his cruelness to his workers, but … he tried to kill the king?”
“He did,” said Page. “He has entertainment rooms in all of his houses, where he and his twisted toadies can watch as some hapless prisoner is pitted against balverines, sand furies, and … other things.”
It was clear that Page didn’t want to talk about it, so Laylah let the subject drop. For now. The revelation had deeply distressed Laylah, and she wondered how many other things her husband had kept from her.
“Well,” said Laylah, “at some point, I probably should try to fight in a dress. I mean”—and she tried to lighten the moment—“someone trying to kill me isn’t going to wait until I change into trousers and tie my hair out of the way.”
“An astute observation, Your Majesty.” The two women turned to see Captain Timmins entering, giving his hat and walking stick to Barrows. “Mind if I see for myself how Page’s tutoring is going?”
“Not at all,” said Laylah, though in truth she was uncomfortable with the idea of sparring with Timmins. He nodded, shrugged out of his coat, and handed that, too, to Barrows. He strode to the row of weapons hanging on the wall, examining them carefully. Laylah looked down at her scimitar. Thus far, it was the only weapon she had practiced with.
“Ah, here we are,” said Timmins. He turned around and Laylah saw that he had a dagger in one hand and a short sword in the other.
“
Two
weapons?” she asked.
“Why not?” said Timmins, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You may well be the target of an assassination, Your Majesty. You do realize that, don’t you?”
“Of course she does,” said Page before Laylah could answer.
“You can’t content yourself with simple swordsmanship,” Timmins continued. His voice was hard. “You need to be prepared to defend yourself with a pistol on the bedstand, the knife you use to slice cheese for a snack, a figurine you can break and use to gouge out eyes, even your own body. Do you understand this?”
Laylah, taken aback by the flurry of words and the seemingly angry tone, nodded.
“Then have at me!” Timmins cried, and charged.
Laylah had thought sparring with Page had been difficult and challenging. She realized now that Page had been going easy on her. Timmins attacked with lightning speed and strength, shouting words at her she was too overwhelmed to even understand. A scant few seconds later
“Laylah,” said Page’s voice, calm and slightly annoyed, “we agreed that screaming was not the right thing to do.”
“Actually,” Laylah said, her voice quivering slightly as she opened her eyes and picked up her dropped weapon, “when you think about it, it would be a fine thing to do.”
“No, we discussed this,” Page reminded her, grinning a little. “Scream at the
start
if someone attacks you, and you’d like help. Then fight your enemy off until help arrives.” She went to the sideboard and poured water from a crystal pitcher for herself and her friend.
Laylah took a few gulps, then said, “You’re right, of course. I panicked. I’m sorry.”
“I’m glad you recognized it,” said Page, squeezing Laylah’s arm warmly. “That’s why we’re doing this. The more you practice and get familiar with coming under ‘attack,’ the more you will become used to the idea. If something ever does happen, then you won’t be paralyzed by fear.”
The two women were dressed in shirts, trousers, and boots. Page had said it was easier to learn the movements without the encumbrance of skirts. “Although once I had to fight in a formal costume,” she said. “That was interesting.”
“Oh?” asked Laylah. “Against whom?”
Page made a sour face. “Your husband and I were pitted against a variety of opponents by one Mr. Reaver.”
Laylah was startled. “What? He never told me. I knew thatMr. Reaver wasn’t very popular because of his cruelness to his workers, but … he tried to kill the king?”
“He did,” said Page. “He has entertainment rooms in all of his houses, where he and his twisted toadies can watch as some hapless prisoner is pitted against balverines, sand furies, and … other things.”
It was clear that Page didn’t want to talk about it, so Laylah let the subject drop. For now. The revelation had deeply distressed Laylah, and she wondered how many other things her husband had kept from her.
“Well,” said Laylah, “at some point, I probably should try to fight in a dress. I mean”—and she tried to lighten the moment—“someone trying to kill me isn’t going to wait until I change into trousers and tie my hair out of the way.”
“An astute observation, Your Majesty.” The two women turned to see Captain Timmins entering, giving his hat and walking stick to Barrows. “Mind if I see for myself how Page’s tutoring is going?”
“Not at all,” said Laylah, though in truth she was uncomfortable with the idea of sparring with Timmins. He nodded, shrugged out of his coat, and handed that, too, to Barrows. He strode to the row of weapons hanging on the wall, examining them carefully. Laylah looked down at her scimitar. Thus far, it was the only weapon she had practiced with.
“Ah, here we are,” said Timmins. He turned around and Laylah saw that he had a dagger in one hand and a short sword in the other.
“
Two
weapons?” she asked.
“Why not?” said Timmins, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You may well be the target of an assassination, Your Majesty. You do realize that, don’t you?”
“Of course she does,” said Page before Laylah could answer.
“You can’t content yourself with simple swordsmanship,” Timmins continued. His voice was hard. “You need to be prepared to defend yourself with a pistol on the bedstand, the knife you use to slice cheese for a snack, a figurine you can break and use to gouge out eyes, even your own body. Do you understand this?”
Laylah, taken aback by the flurry of words and the seemingly angry tone, nodded.
“Then have at me!” Timmins cried, and charged.
Laylah had thought sparring with Page had been difficult and challenging. She realized now that Page had been going easy on her. Timmins attacked with lightning speed and strength, shouting words at her she was too overwhelmed to even understand. A scant few seconds later
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