contracted as she waited for the catch. “Are there matters you wish to oversee?”
“I thought I’d ride out to my nearest tin mine. They complain of losing stock to predators, but I’d see the evidence myself before I organize a hunt. And no, if I do, you can’t come. Despite the fact I’ve never seen anyone heal so fast, I’d prefer you to regain full strength.”
“I’m—”
“Ashira, I’ll make my point the easy way this time. In future, I don’t expect argument.” The duke took her good arm in a firm grip. “We are going to my weapons practice hall where you will prove to yourself your need to recover.”
The room took space from the royal level situated, she guessed, over the soldiers’ barracks. Fixed against one long wall, a sword rack displayed various sized weapons with assorted grips. Unlike Menhill, where planking had raised the floor of the training room, this surface showed the wear of usage on rock making the ground uneven. To fight here meant using every ounce of skill she possessed.
The duke grabbed both her hands in a swift, shocking maneuver. He raised one eyebrow at her clenched fists. Ashira blushed remembering the last time she hid her hands from him. He’d demanded the kiss of peace from her then. She opened her hands, letting him run the ball of his thumbs against the calluses on both.
“More secrets? A fighter who can trade sword hands at ease is an asset.”
He released her, marching to the wall for a short, light sword. Watching his easy stride, Ashira had a sickly feeling that his discovery was not new. If he had seen her hands before, then he must have looked at them while she slept. She couldn’t meet his eyes when he handed her the weapon. The whisper of his sword drawing called her back into the moment.
“The weapon you have is yours to keep. It belonged to me as a boy.” He raised his blade, taking up a battle stance. “Prepare to fight.”
She didn’t want to fight with sharp weapons. Her arm ached, even though she held her sword in her left hand. She struck. The shock of connecting with his blade sent waves of red hot needles through her injury. Again, she pressed the attack, and once more, he blocked her blows until she stood trembling, helpless before him.
“I order you to rest in your rooms for the remainder of this day.” The duke returned to the weapons rack for a sword belt and attached short knife. He took her sword to slide it into its scabbard. “I’ll have a meal sent down.”
“I’m not tired,” Ashira lied. “I just need to get my breath.”
The duke wound his arm around her waist, forcibly marching her to her rooms. He pushed her over the threshold, following behind. Ashira whirled to face him.
“Lady, you tried to disobey my orders yesterday, and again, I suspect, this morning. Don’t back me into a corner you’ll regret when I’m trying very hard to keep the peace. Please have the decency to meet me halfway.” He executed a curt bow, dumped her weapons on a side table and left her to reflect on his leniency.
Chapter 5
Earth Date 3874
A neat stack of clothing rested next to the armaments when Ashira awoke in the morning. On top lay a daisy, overblown, wilting, and giving off that sharp tang of a blossom not meant for picking. It wasn’t much of a flower, yet he must have searched for it outside the barren compound. A frisson of unease ran through her.
Uther’s choice of riding clothes offered another revelation; soft, black leather breeches and a long-sleeved, matching tunic fastening down one side with the front and back; a full black cloak and knee-high boots completed the outfit: he had fitted her out as a soldier. Ashira found him waiting in his business room after she breakfasted in her quarters. She decided not to comment on the flower on the way down to the stables.
Amber was already saddled, along with the coal-black stallion she remembered from their journey. The duke boosted her up, and they rode out into a warm,
“I thought I’d ride out to my nearest tin mine. They complain of losing stock to predators, but I’d see the evidence myself before I organize a hunt. And no, if I do, you can’t come. Despite the fact I’ve never seen anyone heal so fast, I’d prefer you to regain full strength.”
“I’m—”
“Ashira, I’ll make my point the easy way this time. In future, I don’t expect argument.” The duke took her good arm in a firm grip. “We are going to my weapons practice hall where you will prove to yourself your need to recover.”
The room took space from the royal level situated, she guessed, over the soldiers’ barracks. Fixed against one long wall, a sword rack displayed various sized weapons with assorted grips. Unlike Menhill, where planking had raised the floor of the training room, this surface showed the wear of usage on rock making the ground uneven. To fight here meant using every ounce of skill she possessed.
The duke grabbed both her hands in a swift, shocking maneuver. He raised one eyebrow at her clenched fists. Ashira blushed remembering the last time she hid her hands from him. He’d demanded the kiss of peace from her then. She opened her hands, letting him run the ball of his thumbs against the calluses on both.
“More secrets? A fighter who can trade sword hands at ease is an asset.”
He released her, marching to the wall for a short, light sword. Watching his easy stride, Ashira had a sickly feeling that his discovery was not new. If he had seen her hands before, then he must have looked at them while she slept. She couldn’t meet his eyes when he handed her the weapon. The whisper of his sword drawing called her back into the moment.
“The weapon you have is yours to keep. It belonged to me as a boy.” He raised his blade, taking up a battle stance. “Prepare to fight.”
She didn’t want to fight with sharp weapons. Her arm ached, even though she held her sword in her left hand. She struck. The shock of connecting with his blade sent waves of red hot needles through her injury. Again, she pressed the attack, and once more, he blocked her blows until she stood trembling, helpless before him.
“I order you to rest in your rooms for the remainder of this day.” The duke returned to the weapons rack for a sword belt and attached short knife. He took her sword to slide it into its scabbard. “I’ll have a meal sent down.”
“I’m not tired,” Ashira lied. “I just need to get my breath.”
The duke wound his arm around her waist, forcibly marching her to her rooms. He pushed her over the threshold, following behind. Ashira whirled to face him.
“Lady, you tried to disobey my orders yesterday, and again, I suspect, this morning. Don’t back me into a corner you’ll regret when I’m trying very hard to keep the peace. Please have the decency to meet me halfway.” He executed a curt bow, dumped her weapons on a side table and left her to reflect on his leniency.
Chapter 5
Earth Date 3874
A neat stack of clothing rested next to the armaments when Ashira awoke in the morning. On top lay a daisy, overblown, wilting, and giving off that sharp tang of a blossom not meant for picking. It wasn’t much of a flower, yet he must have searched for it outside the barren compound. A frisson of unease ran through her.
Uther’s choice of riding clothes offered another revelation; soft, black leather breeches and a long-sleeved, matching tunic fastening down one side with the front and back; a full black cloak and knee-high boots completed the outfit: he had fitted her out as a soldier. Ashira found him waiting in his business room after she breakfasted in her quarters. She decided not to comment on the flower on the way down to the stables.
Amber was already saddled, along with the coal-black stallion she remembered from their journey. The duke boosted her up, and they rode out into a warm,
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