threads, surprised to see the strands shimmer.
“The gold threads are still enchanted, Flinn,” the girl said. “When I pieced them together they glowed, though only faintly. Whoever cast the spell must have been a powerful wizard.”
“Camlet the seamstress took great pride in her work. I’m not surprised the threads still glow.”
He looked up at Jo standing beside him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. “It’s beautiful, Johauna,” he said simply. “Thank you for saving as much as you could.”
Her voice was breathless. “You’re more than welcome, Flinn.” She stroked the three suns briefly. “I know this square can’t replace the tunic, but perhaps you can keep this as a… a favor, I think the knights call them.”
“They do.” Flinn pointed at one of the sacks he had brought in. “I have a present for you, too. Take a look in there.”
Johauna looked in a long, narrow bag and pulled out a wooden sword. The dull gray wood that formed the blade had a fine, tight grain. Although the sword was thicker than a normal steel sword, its beveled edge was very sharp. The leather-wrapped hilt and fitted, wooden guard fit perfectly in Jo’s hand. She said nothing, her eyes searching his inquiringly.
“I didn’t give it to you earlier because-” Flinn paused, rubbing his neck uncomfortably, “-I didn’t know if you were serious enough.” He gazed toward her, his face reddening. He continued, “It’ll do for us to parry with. I figured I would teach you first how to defend yourself.” He took the sword from her and gave it a few swings. “I made it from a piece of ironwood. It’s virtually indestructible and almost as heavy as steel.” He shrugged. “It’ll make a good practice blade for you. It doesn’t have the bite of metal, of course, but it’ll dent just about anything you’ll find in these woods.”
A shadow crossed the girl’s face. “Even the creature that attacked me?”
Flinn considered his words, then nodded slowly. “Even the creature that attacked you.”
“I don’t understand!” Johauna shouted at Flinn, one week later. She was lying flat on the now-packed snow of the commons between the cabin and the barn. The tip of Flinn’s blade rested squarely on her chest.
“That’s because you’re not trying!” Flinn shouted back. He abruptly stuck his sword into the ground and jerked her to her feet. “You’re not listening! You’ve got to learn defense before you can think about attacking!”
“What do you think I was trying to do? I had my sword out! I tried to stop you!”
Flinn’s hands clamped firmly on his waist. “Well, it didn’t work, did it?”
“I did everything you said!” Jo mimicked Flinn’s posture. “You’re not teaching me right!”
“Hah!” Flinn snorted. “You’ve got another think coming there, you thick-headed girl!” Angrily he picked up Jo’s sword where it had fallen in the snow and then grabbed his own. He threw the wooden blade at Jo, who caught it handily this time. Flinn grunted his approval. “That’s better,” he snorted again and went into a crouching position. “This time, let me attack and you defend,” he said.
Johauna, too, crouched in the ready position and held her sword like a bar before her. “I don’t know why you won’t let me have a shield, Flinn,” Jo said as she blocked Flinn’s initial move.
“I told you!” Flinn whirled his blade in a fast, low arc. Jo barely jumped in time. “You don’t need a shield. Your sword’s everything you need to stay alive. The shield might protect you, but it won’t save your hide like a sword will.” He swung his blade overhead, letting it come crashing down on Jo’s wooden blade. She winced at the force of the stroke and fell to one knee, but she didn’t release the blade.
“Good girl,” Flinn said quickly and backed away, preparing his next move.
“What if I lose the sword? Then I’ll need the shield,” she said. She blocked his next move easily and smiled, only to find his sword at her stomach.
Flinn sighed in exasperation, backing away. “If you lose your sword, Jo, you’re dead! Think! Hold onto your sword as though your life depends on it-because it does. A shield is expendable; you haven’t time to worry about expendable distractions. Devote your attention to what is necessary. Now-prepare yourself!”
Flinn advanced toward her again, his blade swinging out in faster strokes. His gaze passed over the spot on her calf where one of his strokes had nicked her. He had taken extra care since then. Jo fended the first few strokes well enough, but then Flinn’s sword flashed faster. She stepped back, fumbling with the blade.
“Parry! Parry!” Flinn shouted. “Quit using the sword as just a shield!”
“You told me to use it as a shield!” Jo retorted.
“Never mind what I told you! Parry the stroke, don’t just meet it!” Flinn shouted in return.
Spurred on by his words, Jo stepped forward, forcing his blows back rather than merely blocking them. She successfully turned six strokes in a row. Astonished, she smiled.
Suddenly she was lying on her back with Flinn’s sword at her waist again and her own beyond reach. Flinn shook his head at her, clicking his tongue. He pulled her to her feet.
“You got cocky, girl,” he said. “Worse thing that can happen to a fighter-think the fight’s over and gloat. You had a couple of nice moves, but don’t let those go to your head. That’s why you’re in the snow again.” He gestured toward her sword and shook his head. “Never, never lose your sword, Jo, no matter what the cost of keeping it in your hand.” His dark eyes were serious as he peered into hers. “Losing your sword will cost you your life.”
“But I was afraid you were going to break my arm. I had to drop the sword.”
He shook his head. “No, you only thought that. Human bone is strong, Jo, particularly with a little armor.” He rolled up the left sleeve of his woolen tunic and traced the deep scar in the middle of his forearm.
“I lost my shield once in a fight. The next blow struck my left arm. The blade bit through my armor, gouged out some flesh, and broke the bone in two places. I survived and lived to win the fight.” Sighing, he continued, “The point is, don’t be afraid to suffer some pain in the short run if it can save your life in the long run.”
Johauna hesitated, then reached out and lightly traced the ridged scar. “I’ll remember, Flinn.”
“Now,” Flinn said briskly as he rolled down the tunic’s sleeve, “do you want to continue or are you tired?”
Jo knew she was tired. She also knew Flinn enjoyed these practice bouts, particularly because she became a more worthy adversary daily. “Continue,” she said, retrieving her sword and returning to her starting stance.
This time Jo concentrated on parrying each of Flinn’s moves without trying to anticipate them. She carefully avoided being maneuvered next to the buildings or the fence, where she might be trapped. At one point, Flinn drove her toward the corral’s gate. Jo dropped and rolled toward Flinn, bringing her wooden sword upward in a thrusting stroke inches from his gut. Flinn leaped neatly aside. “Good move!” he cried.
Jo rolled to her feet and took the offensive, slashing enthusiastically with her blade, forcing Flinn toward the bam wall. Flinn laughed, the first genuine laughter Johauna had ever heard from him. The sound spurred her on. Each stroke fell with greater force, sharper precision. Even so, Flinn stepped back, parrying the blows easily.
At last Jo cried, “Enough!” She released her sword and dropped to the ground. Her nearly healed shoulder throbbed with the exertion. Flinn plopped down beside her on the packed snow.
“Well done, Jo, well done!” Flinn proclaimed and began massaging her sword arm. He had stressed the importance of stretching her muscles before any exercise bout and chasing away any knots in her muscles afterward.
Jo’s heart pounded loudly in her ears. Her lips parted and her breath became shallow.
Flinn was still speaking. “You’ve improved quite a lot since we first began practicing. Anyone who can keep showing progress will…” Flinn’s words trailed off as he gazed into her face. His lips pursed and his eyes darkened.
She wondered if he thought she was trying to seduce him. She abruptly pulled her arm from his hands and leaned away. “Thanks, Flinn. My arm’s fine now.”
Flinn stood, picking up the weapons and taking a few brisk strides about the yard. “You’re progressing very well, Jo. I’m pleased.” He paused to look down at her. “I think you should spend the rest of the day practicing with the bow. The target’s still set up by the barn.”
The warrior extended his hand and pulled Jo to her feet. “You want me to practice target shooting?” Jo asked, “Or should I do the run-and-shoot maneuvers?”
“Target shooting,” Flinn said, smiling. “Your archery isn’t nearly as advanced as your swordplay. We need to fix that.”
“Will you watch and tell me again what I’m doing wrong?” Jo asked, moving to the bam where Flinn kept his
