But when Kellen would have removed his armor in turn, Jermayan stopped him.
'It is time for your next lesson,' Jermayan said cheerfully. It occurred to Kellen that the Elven Knight had become quite unaccountably better-humored since their first stop…
He's enjoying this! Kellen thought, caught halfway between his own anticipation at another lesson and a flash of exasperation at Jermayan's high spirits. Of course, he isn't the one who's going to get hit.
But despite the fact that he was tired from the long day's ride, and the fact that he suspected there was a bruise under the armor where Jermayan had managed to land a blow on him that morning, Kellen found his spirits rising to match Jermayan's. There was an indescribable Tightness that he felt when holding the sword in his hands. And the longer he thought about it, the more sure he was that he had finally found the work he was supposed to be doing.
Was this how Idalia felt when she called on the Wild Magic? If so, it was no wonder that she seemed so contented, and so willing to use it whenever she was called upon, even if the cost to her was high. And happy—or at least happy when she wasn't thinking about Jermayan. Kellen only wished there was some way he could tell her that he understood at last.
On the dry sand of the riverbed, Jermayan used his scabbard to scratch out a circle about twelve feet across.
'Here is our dancing floor,' the Elven Knight said. 'You must try to push me out over the boundary. I will do the same to you. If I succeed, you have lost. If you succeed, I have lost. In battle, it is important never to give ground except by your own choice, so that an enemy cannot move you into danger. Come now, and we will begin.'
Kellen quickly discovered that this was harder work than simply blocking Jermayan's blows had been. Over and over, Kellen found that he had blocked every blow… and still been forced to give ground exactly as Jermayan wished him to.
'How are you doing that?' Kellen demanded as Jermayan stepped back once again and raised his blade in salute, looking down to see his foot once again over the edge of the circle.
'Most warriors step back to block,' Jermayan explained, taking pity on Kellen at last. 'It is a common instinct, because it helps to absorb the force of a blow. You, knowing this, will use it against your foes. It will help you force your enemy where you wish him to go. Step sideways when you attack, and you can turn him as well, for he will always turn to face you without thinking about it. Now, let us try again, and this time, step forward as you block.'
They went on, and Kellen discovered that Jermayan was right. This time Kellen forced himself to push forward instead of stepping back each time Jermayan attacked, and this time Jermayan was unable to force him out of the circle.
But that only meant that the sparring match continued without the breaks that had come each time he'd stepped out of the circle, and Kellen's muscles were not yet hardened to the burdens of sword and armor. If Jermayan was a patient instructor, his kindness did not extend to their physical combat, and if he pulled his blows at the last moment, he showed Kellen no other mercy. As the blows came faster and faster, Kellen's sword seemed to drag at his arms, until at last Kellen saw a blow coming but was unable to get his tired arms up to move his sword quickly enough to block it.
Jermayan pulled back at the last minute, the flat of the sword landing with a gentle click against Kellen's armored thigh.
'A good beginning,' he said warmly, stepping back. 'Stamina will come with practice, young Knight.'
Kellen took a couple of staggering steps backward, his head swimming with exhaustion and his body beneath the Elven armor—how in the name of all that was holy had he ever thought it was light?—soaked with sweat. With shaking muscles, he sheathed his own sword and staggered out of the teaching circle, feeling as if he were barely able to move. He was sure his armor suddenly weighed a thousand pounds.
He twisted his gauntlets to the side and pulled them off, but was barely able to force his cramped fingers to undo the clasps of his helmet. Gritting his teeth, he set the helmet and gauntlets carefully on the ground, pulled off the leather gloves beneath, then moved to unbuckle his swordbelt.
'Not easy, is it?' Shalkan asked, looking on. The unicorn had been an interested spectator at Kellen's first real lesson, but, Kellen had been relieved to find, had not offered any helpful advice—or distractions.
'No,' Kellen said, discovering at just that moment that although he could unbuckle the swordbelt, he couldn't reach up to pull it off over his head while wearing the armor. 'But I guess nothing worth having ever is,' he added, trying to sound as grateful as he knew he would be when he wasn't as hot, sweaty, and just plain tired as he was at this particular moment. Until he could get the baldric off, he couldn't get the surcoat off, which meant he couldn't get any of the armor beneath it off.
'Good answer,' Shalkan said. 'Reach up under the surcoat and pull out the shoulder-pins on the gorget—that's the big neck piece. The sleeves will slip free, then. With the sleeves off, you can reach up to loosen the gorget and lift the whole thing off in one piece.'
