As she spoke, Sarene brought out a bundle of thin sticks she'd had made earlier. They were, of course, poor substitutes for a real sword. but they would do until the armorer finished the practice syres. After each woman received a weapon. Sarene began to teach them how to lunge.
It was difficult work-much more difficult than Sarene had expected. She considered herself a decent fencer. but it had never occurred to her that having knowledge was entirely different from explaining that knowledge to others. The women seemed to find ways to hold their weapons that Sarene would have thought physically impossible. They thrust wildly. were frightened of oncoming blades, and tripped over their dresses.
Eventually Sarene left them to practice their thrusts-she wouldn't trust them to spar with one another until they had proper face masks and clothing-and seated herself beside Lukel with a sigh.
'Exhausting work, Cousin?' he asked. obviously enjoying the sight of his mother trying to wield a sword in a dress.
'You have no idea.' Sarene said, wiping her brow. 'Are you sure you don't want to give it a try?'
Lukel raised his hands. 'I may be flamboyant at times, Cousin, but I'm not stupid. King Iadon would blacklist any man who took part in such a supposedly
demeaning activity. Being on the king's bad side is fine if you happen to be Eon-del, but I'm just a simple merchant. I can't afford royal displeasure.'
'I'm sure,' Sarene said, watching the women trying to master their lunges. 'I don't think I taught them very well.'
'Better than I could have done.' Lukel said with a shrug.
'I could have done better,' Kaise informed from her seat. The little girl was obviously growing bored with the repetitious fighting.
'Oh really?' Lukel asked dryly.
'Of course. She didn't teach them about riposting or Proper Form, and she didn't even bother with tournament rules.'
Sarene raised an eyebrow. 'You know about fencing?'
'I read a book on it,' Kaise said airily. Then she reached over to slap away Daorn's hand, which was poking her with a stick he had taken from Sarene's pile.
`The sad thing is she probably did,' Lukel said with a sigh. 'Just so she could try and impress you.'
'I think Kaise must be the most intelligent little girl I've ever met,' Sarene confessed.
Lukel shrugged. 'She's smart, but don't let her impress you too much-she's still only a child. She may comprehend like a woman, but she still reacts like a little girl.'
'I still think she's astounding,' Sarene said, watching as the two children played.
'Oh, she's that,' Lukel agreed. 'It only takes Kaise a few hours to devour a book. and her language-learning ability is unreal. I feel sorry for Daorn sometimes. He tries his best, but I think he just feels inadequate-Kaise can be domineering. if you haven't noticed. But, smart or not, they're still children, and they're still a pain to take care of.'
Sarene watched the children playing. Kaise, having stolen the stick from her brother, was proceeding to chase him around the room, cutting and thrusting in parodies of the methods Sarene had taught. As Sarene watched, her eyes fell on the doorway. It was open, and two figures watched the women practice.
The ladies fell still as Lords Eondel and Shuden, realizing they had been noticed, slipped into the room. The two men, though very different in age, were reportedly becoming good friends. Both were something of outsiders in Arelon- Shuden, a foreigner with dark skin, and Eondel, a former soldier whose very presence seemed to offend.
If Eondel's presence was distasteful to the women, however, Shuden's more than made up for it. A serious wave of blushing ran through the fencers as they realized that the handsome Jindoeese lord had been watching them. Several of the younger girls clutched friends' arms for support, whispering excitedly. Shuden himself flushed at the attention.
Eondel, however, ignored the women's reactions. He walked among the would-be fencers, his eyes contemplative. Finally, he picked up a spare length of wood, and stepped into a fencing posture and began a series of swipes and thrusts. After testing the weapon. he nodded to himself, set it aside, then moved toward one of the women.
'Hold the wood like so,' he instructed, positioning her fingers. 'You were gripping it so tightly you lost flexibility. Now, place your thumb along the top of the hilt to keep it pointed in the right direction, step back, and thrust.'
The woman, Atara, complied-flustered that Eondel had dared touch her wrist. Her thrust, amazingly, was straight and well aimed-a fact that surprised no one more than Atara herself.
Eondel moved through the group, carefully correcting posture, grip, and stance. He took each woman in turn, giving advice to their several individual problems. After just a few brief minutes of instruction, the women's attacks were more focused and accurate than Sarene would have thought possible.
Eondel backed away from the women with a satisfied eye. 'I hope you aren't offended by my intrusion, Your Highness.'
'Not at all, my lord,' Sarene assured him-even though she did feel a stab of jealousy. She had to be woman enough to recognize superior skill when she saw it, she told herself.
'You are obviously talented,' the older man said. 'But you seem to have had little experience in training others.'
Sarene nodded. Eondel was a military commander-he had probably spent decades instructing novices in the basics of fighting. 'You know quite a bit about fencing, my lord.'
'It interests me,' Eondel said, 'and I have visited Duladel on numerous occasions. The Dulas refuse to recognize a man's fighting ability unless he can fence. no matter how many battles he has won.'
Sarene stood. reaching over and pulling out her practice syres. 'Care to spar then, my lord?' she asked offhandedly. testing one of the blades in her hand.
Eondel looked surprised. 'I… I have never sparred with a woman before, Your Highness. I don't think it would be proper.'
'Nonsense.' she said, tossing him a sword. 'Defend yourself.'
Then. without giving him another chance to object, she attacked. Eondel stumbled at first, taken aback by her sudden offense. However, his warrior training soon took control, and he began to parry Sarene's attack, with amazing skill. From what he'd said, Sarene had assumed that his knowledge of fencing would be cursory. She was mistaken.
Eondel threw himself into the bout with determination. His blade whipped through the air so quickly it was impossible to follow, and only years of training and drills told Sarene where to parry. The room rang with the sound of metal
against metal, and the women paused to gawk as their two instructors moved across the floor, engaged in intense battle.
Sarene wasn't used to sparring with someone as good as Eondel. Not only was he as tall as she was- negating any advantage she had in reach-he had the reflexes and training of a man who had spent his entire life fighting. The two of them pushed through the crowd, using women. chairs, and other random objects as foils for the other's attack. Their swords cracked and whipped. lunging out and then snapping back to block.
Eondel was too good for her. She could hold him, but was so busy with defense that she had no time to attack. With sweat streaming down her face, Sarene became acutely aware that everyone in the room was watching her.
At that moment. something changed in Eondel. His stance weakened slightly, and Sarene struck reflexively. Her round tipped blade slipped past his defenses came up against his neck. Eondel smiled slightly.
'I have no choice but to yield, my lady,' Eondel said.
Suddenly, Sarene felt very ashamed for putting Eondel in a situation where he had obviously let her win, lest he make her look bad in front of the others. Eondel bowed, and Sarene was left feeling silly.
They walked back to the side of the room, accepting cups from Lukel, who complimented them on the performance. As Sarene drank, something struck her. She had been treating her time here in Arelon like a contest, as she did with most political endeavors-a complex. yet enjoyable, game.
Arelon was different. Eondel had let her win because he wanted to protect her image. To him. it was no
