Read Online Fable: Edge of the World by Christie Golden - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christie Golden
Ads: Link
she was unarmed and on the floor, staring up at a man who had both a dagger and a sword respectively pressed to her throat and belly.
Timmins grunted and stepped back. Page hastened over to Laylah and helped her up. Laylah was shaking violently but did her best to hide it, folding her arms tightly across her chest. Timmins clearly thought little of her; she had no desire for him to think less.
“What are you doing?” Page snapped at Timmins. “We’ve only been practicing for a couple of weeks!”
“That’s all some of the recruits had to train, and they’re on ships sailing to fight a terrible and terrifying darkness,” Timmins said. “The king—”
“Was trained by Sir Walter Beck from childhood how to fight,” Page said. “Laylah didn’t have that luxury.”
“No one has the luxury now to let others down—or get themselves foolishly and senselessly killed,” Timmins said. “Least of all the queen who’s currently ruling Albion.” He put away the weapons and rang for Barrows. As he shrugged into his coat andtook his hat and cane, he said, “Step up the sparring, Page. I’ll come work with her again once she’s got the basics down.” He bowed deeply, and, it seemed to Laylah, with genuine courtesy, which confused her. “Your Majesty.”
He turned and strode out. Page squeezed Laylah’s arm. “I’m going to talk to him. I’ll be right back, I promise.”
Laylah nodded, endeavoring to look relaxed and composed. As soon as Page had gone, she forced herself to calmly put away her weapons properly, then rang for Barrows.
“Have a chambermaid draw me a bath, please,” she said.
“Right away, Your Majesty.” Barrows bowed and withdrew.
Alone in the sparring room, Laylah finally unfolded her arms. Blood was wet and sticky on her right hand, where she had clamped down on the thin slice across her left bicep. The shirt was damaged beyond repair, and indeed, Laylah had no desire for anyone to see it. The cut would heal quickly once it was cleaned and bandaged for a day or two.
Was she so terrible at defending herself that even a master swordsman like Jack Timmins couldn’t stop himself from injuring her?
Or was this Timmins’s way of teaching her a lesson?
Page hastened through the castle, racing down the stairs until she caught up with Timmins. He didn’t slow his long-legged stride but did glance down at her.
“Was that really necessary?” asked Page.
“Yes, it was.”
“There are other ways to teach rather than shouting at someone and making her feel useless.”
“There are,” Timmins agreed, “and I’d prefer it if this was simply teaching Queen Laylah how to fight in order to keep herfigure trim. But it’s not. I appreciate that she’s suddenly been hurled into the deep end of the ocean, but she either sinks or swims. And I know you understand that.”
Page sighed. “I do,” she admitted.
He softened a little. “She’s got to rule so that this country believes in her as much as they do her husband. And she’s got to be able to defend herself in case no one’s around to do it for her. She can’t keep quailing like a doe every time someone raises their voice or approaches her with a weapon. Do you think I want to hear the hue and cry and find her dead on the floor one night?” He looked stricken at the thought. “She’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. It’s no wonder the king loves her so much. But she’s got to help us help
her
to stay safe!”
“I know, I know,” said Page. “But—give her a little time. I’ll step up the training, I promise. You need to understand she still gets sore from simply holding a sword.”
He did come to a halt now and looked at her. “You treat her how you wish, Page,” he said. “But I intend to do everything necessary to make sure that she’s strong enough to inspire her people and to defend herself if some bloody assassin sneaks past the guards and into her room one night. That’s what I pledged to do
Timmins grunted and stepped back. Page hastened over to Laylah and helped her up. Laylah was shaking violently but did her best to hide it, folding her arms tightly across her chest. Timmins clearly thought little of her; she had no desire for him to think less.
“What are you doing?” Page snapped at Timmins. “We’ve only been practicing for a couple of weeks!”
“That’s all some of the recruits had to train, and they’re on ships sailing to fight a terrible and terrifying darkness,” Timmins said. “The king—”
“Was trained by Sir Walter Beck from childhood how to fight,” Page said. “Laylah didn’t have that luxury.”
“No one has the luxury now to let others down—or get themselves foolishly and senselessly killed,” Timmins said. “Least of all the queen who’s currently ruling Albion.” He put away the weapons and rang for Barrows. As he shrugged into his coat andtook his hat and cane, he said, “Step up the sparring, Page. I’ll come work with her again once she’s got the basics down.” He bowed deeply, and, it seemed to Laylah, with genuine courtesy, which confused her. “Your Majesty.”
He turned and strode out. Page squeezed Laylah’s arm. “I’m going to talk to him. I’ll be right back, I promise.”
Laylah nodded, endeavoring to look relaxed and composed. As soon as Page had gone, she forced herself to calmly put away her weapons properly, then rang for Barrows.
“Have a chambermaid draw me a bath, please,” she said.
“Right away, Your Majesty.” Barrows bowed and withdrew.
Alone in the sparring room, Laylah finally unfolded her arms. Blood was wet and sticky on her right hand, where she had clamped down on the thin slice across her left bicep. The shirt was damaged beyond repair, and indeed, Laylah had no desire for anyone to see it. The cut would heal quickly once it was cleaned and bandaged for a day or two.
Was she so terrible at defending herself that even a master swordsman like Jack Timmins couldn’t stop himself from injuring her?
Or was this Timmins’s way of teaching her a lesson?
Page hastened through the castle, racing down the stairs until she caught up with Timmins. He didn’t slow his long-legged stride but did glance down at her.
“Was that really necessary?” asked Page.
“Yes, it was.”
“There are other ways to teach rather than shouting at someone and making her feel useless.”
“There are,” Timmins agreed, “and I’d prefer it if this was simply teaching Queen Laylah how to fight in order to keep herfigure trim. But it’s not. I appreciate that she’s suddenly been hurled into the deep end of the ocean, but she either sinks or swims. And I know you understand that.”
Page sighed. “I do,” she admitted.
He softened a little. “She’s got to rule so that this country believes in her as much as they do her husband. And she’s got to be able to defend herself in case no one’s around to do it for her. She can’t keep quailing like a doe every time someone raises their voice or approaches her with a weapon. Do you think I want to hear the hue and cry and find her dead on the floor one night?” He looked stricken at the thought. “She’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. It’s no wonder the king loves her so much. But she’s got to help us help
her
to stay safe!”
“I know, I know,” said Page. “But—give her a little time. I’ll step up the training, I promise. You need to understand she still gets sore from simply holding a sword.”
He did come to a halt now and looked at her. “You treat her how you wish, Page,” he said. “But I intend to do everything necessary to make sure that she’s strong enough to inspire her people and to defend herself if some bloody assassin sneaks past the guards and into her room one night. That’s what I pledged to do
Similar Books
