She focused on it, as he moved it closer, then further back, then side to side. Her bruise throbbed in a familiar, straight line where the stanch had struck. High defence was difficult to practise without helms. Sometimes, they'd used them… but svaalverd fighters rarely wore such restrictive armour in combat. Mostly, they were careful and knew each other's capabilities well enough to avoid injury. Mostly.
'Stand up.' She did, and found her balance was good. In fact, there was little, if any, dizziness. It just hurt. Kessligh saw as much, grimly. 'You always had a thick skull,' he said. 'Now run. To the ridge and back.'
Sasha glared at him. 'In a moment.'
'In combat, there are no moments to choose. Now.'
Sasha seriously considered hitting him. It wasn't the first time. Then, as now, she refrained… if for no other reason than she was highly unlikely to connect. And fist-fighting was one thing she could never afford to do with bigger, stronger men. Kessligh's expression was utterly unsympathetic.
'Fine,' she snarled, turning away to unstrap her banda. Once done, she flung it away and set off running gingerly across the slope as the wind howled across the open, wet grass, and the horses snorted and galloped nervously within the enclosure.
The rain began before she'd even reached the steepest part of the ridge path. Trees shrieked in protest as the wind roared and water fell in great, enveloping sheets that quickly drenched what little of her clothing was not already wet. Sasha gritted her teeth and slogged slowly up the steepening path, feet quickly soaking within her boots, avoiding the slippery rocks and mud. Her head ached with each struggling step, her vision blurred with pouring water, and she cursed Kessligh with every gasping breath.
The rock atop the ridge was shining wet beneath blasting, sideways sheets of rain. Sasha paused a moment upon the edge of the hilltop clearing, gasping for air… and could not help but marvel at the raw power of the storm, the trees bending and thrashing like wild things, the howling roar of rain and wind that obliterated all view of the surrounding hills. There was a loud crack as a branch broke. Then a sudden boom and rumble of thunder that made her jump and sent a new chill through her soaked, cold limbs…
She made a fast spirit sign to her forehead and turned back the way she'd come. Despite the blinding rain and slippery path, she knew this trail well. She descended fast, taking her weight upon each pounding, downward impact with practised skill. A brilliant blue flash lit up all the blackened sky, followed by a booming, bass rumble that nearly stood her hair on end. She increased her pace as the path dropped yet more steeply, hurdling one intervening outcrop with a downward rush…
Her ankle twisted in a flash of pain, and suddenly she was falling, crashing and rolling downslope, a tangle of sliding earth and mud, her leg hit a tree, spinning her about as the ground fell from under her… and she crashed painfully into a harsh tangle of bushes. For a moment, she just breathed and hoped she hadn't hurt anything worse than her ankle. Unfolding herself one limb at a time from the bushes, it didn't seem so.
Cold, muddy, bruised, drenched and with a throbbing head, she was now in quite possibly the foulest mood she could recall since her worst childhood tempers in Baen-Tar. Some achievement. Thunder boomed and rumbled in nearby displeasure. She hauled herself gingerly to her feet and hissed in pain at the weight on her right ankle. So now she could barely walk. Just wonderful.
Limping down the slippery path took an age. Moving slowly, and trusting one foot with all her weight, she had to search for secure footing as water poured down the path and any smooth surface became treacherous. Twice, she slipped again, once sliding several strides on her backside, accumulating yet more bruises. Finally, at the bottom of the steepest slope, the rain and wind eased somewhat… but she was now shivering with cold.
Worse, her excellently crafted boot had ceased to fit her right foot snugly and now every step was agony. Sasha sat down to remove it and found the ankle swollen and ugly. Limping onward, her bare foot quickly chilled in the mud and water.
The hillside was darkening fast as she emerged from the ridgetop treeline onto the vast, grassy shoulder, the blackened sky quickly losing whatever daylight it had retained. Here on the southern slope, the northerly wind merely gusted and swirled. The house itself remained distant yet, a small shape in the gathering gloom beneath the spidery vertyn tree. There seemed to be a light at the rear and one at the stables. Kessligh, she hoped, had taken in the horses.
Then there came the unmistakable shape of a galloping horse and rider along the lower fence. It rounded the corner post and came straight for her. Sasha recognised the horse-Terjellyn, with his familiar, elegant gait. She did not stop limping.
Kessligh reined Terjellyn to a halt before her. 'Bad?' he asked her from that height, eyeing her limp and the boot in her hand. Sasha kept moving, ignoring both horse and rider. Kessligh held a hand down to her. 'Come on, get up.' And stared in blank disbelief as Sasha continued limping straight past him, eyes fixed on the distant house with grim determination.
For a moment, Kessligh sat in his saddle and watched her. Sasha thought he might simply ride back and leave her to finish the journey alone. She didn't care. Strangely, at that moment, she didn't care about anything. Movement behind her, then, as Terjellyn trotted easily to her side.
'Sasha, you'll make the ankle worse.' A calm, matter-of-fact statement. No alarm. No concern. Sasha felt a spark of fury. She limped on, relishing the pain each cold, shivering step caused. 'With treatment, it might only trouble you for a few days. But if you keep walking on it, that could be longer. If you need to fight, you won't be able to.'
Always the practical concern. Always worried about her 'role' as his uma. Always interested in what she could do for him, no concern for what she wanted herself. She kept limping. She'd reach the house herself if it were cause for amputation.
'Sasha, don't be a damn fool.' With tired irritation, now. No anger. He didn't care enough to be angry. She was just another strategic exercise to him. A project for his beloved Nasi-Keth. 'Sasha? I'm warning you, get up on the damn horse. I don't have time for this childish nonsense.'
She limped onward. Behind, there came a light thud as Kessligh leaped from the saddle. Footsteps approached, then a hand grasped her shoulder, hard, pulling her about with precious little concern for the ankle. Pain stabbed, and Sasha swung at him in blind fury… and struck a glancing blow to his head as he ducked, grabbing that arm. She tried to rip her arm clear, lashing with her left fist, which caught him squarely in the mouth. He spun back, still grabbing her arm, twisting it as she was yanked off her feet, scrambling to her knees then as Kessligh wrenched that arm behind her, trying to immobilise the other arm now.
Sasha's left hand had found the knife in her belt before she could think, pulling it free… but Kessligh abandoned her right arm to take the left instead. She tried to slash clear, but a sudden twist and pressure on her elbow threw her face-down on the grass and rolling onto her back, the left arm now painfully beneath her and Kessligh's own knife at her chest in lightning, dangerous reflex. Sasha stopped struggling, her uman's knee in her stomach, knife blade hovering with a clear, obvious line to her throat. There was blood on his lower lip, which was cut and appearing to swell. His eyes were dark and dangerous in the cold, windswept gloom.
'Go on and do it!' Sasha yelled at his face. 'Go on and waste the last twelve years of your life! Serve you bloody well right, that would!'
Kessligh blinked at her, shock rapidly replacing deadly instinct. He threw the knife away, as if suddenly discovering it were a poisonous snake. Took a deep, gasping breath, and another. It was a look Sasha had never seen before. Fear. The sight of it gave her a surge of vicious satisfaction. Kessligh released her and moved back, still kneeling.
'Some uman you turned out to be!' Sasha snarled at him, retrieving her arm from behind and struggling to a seat. Still the knife was in her hand. 'The first one gets killed when you're not looking and then you nearly do the second yourself?'
Anger blazed in Kessligh's eyes. 'Sasha… you stupid, contemptible idiot!' He was really angry now. She liked this much better. 'Never draw a blade on me! I've warned you many times, never surprise me like that! I have no safe reflexes, Sasha! They're all dangerous! All of them!'
'You're never to blame for anything, are you?' Sasha retorted, far, far beyond any semblance of self-control. 'Godsdamn it, you're always accusing me of immaturity. I have twenty summers and I know I'm not perfect! When's it going to dawn on you, Master Swordsman?'
Kessligh stared at her, incredulously. 'What in the nine hells are you…?'
'You've never thought about anyone but yourself in your whole blasted life, have you? You didn't ride out from Petrodor all those years ago to save the poor, suffering Lenay people-you did it for yourself? Yourself and your
