As Kull and Heidel had a heated discussion over who’d suffered worse maladies, I kept my eye on King Herrick. I shouldn’t have been so bothered by him. After all, he was an honest king with a decent reputation. In truth, he was more inclined to peaceful negations than war, which was a trait not found in his predecessors. The king laughed as Ket, with a languid smile, said something to him. I wished I could hear their conversation.
“Olive,” Kull said.
I focused on him.
“Did you hear me?” he asked.
“Sorry,” I answered. “I was distracted.”
Heidel sighed. “You see? She hasn’t the attention span necessary for the training. This is a waste of time.”
“What’s a waste of time?” I asked.
“Because of the failing magic, my father would like all practitioners to learn defense with actual weapons.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” I said, “but I’m not completely incapacitated. I still have half of my magic.”
“Is that enough?” Heidel asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “We need to know more about the outer islands and what types of creatures inhabit them. There are other species living there besides the dragons that will be a danger to us.”
“Agreed,” Kull said. “But in the meantime, I would like to teach you defense with real weaponry. I think we should start with archery.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Why archery?”
“You’re half elf,” Heidel explained, her tone condescending. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Sometimes I hated stereotypes. “I suppose I could try, but I’ve never actually shot an arrow. Or used a sword. Or a shield. Or wielded a cudgel or mace.”
Heidel grimaced. “Have you ever fought with any weapon at all?”
“I’ve attempted to use a knife on a few occasions, although I’ve never had much success.”
“She will do fine,” Kull added. “She’s got the natural agility of an elf, plus she’s fought in combat, albeit with magic, but the transition will be easy enough.”
“You’re being overly optimistic,” Heidel said. “Learning the skills of archery cannot be taught in a few days. Even someone with natural abilities cannot succeed without continuous years of practice.”
“Not true.”
“Why?”
“Because she’ll have me as her teacher.” He gave me a quick wink.
“You are no teacher, brother. I believe you are misguided. You do not seriously ponder the future, and soon you will learn that overconfidence is your downfall.”
Kull smirked. “You are wrong. I ponder the future quite often—one where you no longer badger me because you’ve realized that I am always right.”
“Is that so?”
“Indeed it is.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Then I fear the day you realize your inadequacy. The gods have gifted you with great strength. You have wit and charm and great luck, but you are not invincible. Father has tried to show you your follies, yet you ignore him. The mightiest hero suffers the greatest fall.”
Kull leaned back and crossed his arms. “Hero. Yes, I like the sound of that.”
She pushed her plate aside. “Will you ever be serious?”
“I am always serious. This is my serious face. I’m sorry you haven’t the capability to see it.”
She stood with clenched fists. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”
He shoveled in a mouthful of food. “Eh? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”
Her cheeks reddened. “One day, you will fail. You will lose what you love most, and then you will realize how deluded you’ve been, only it will be too late. And Father won’t be there to save you.” She stood taller. “I… I would say more, but I will only hold my tongue because I do not wish to contribute to your intestinal discomforts.” Her cloak swished as she turned to me. “Good luck with him,” she offered before storming away.
Kull smirked as he turned his attention to Heidel’s half-eaten food. He slid the dish across the table and scooped up a lump of meat.
“Kull,” I said after a moment. “She may be right.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “She isn’t. She’s been on my case as long as I can remember, yet I am still alive. Don’t concern yourself with her badgering. I’ve learned to ignore her.”
“Yes, it seems you do a great job of it.”
“I count it as one of my greatest talents.”
“But you must realize that she has a point.”
“I have survived so far without listening to her advice. I don’t plan to change.”
I studied his face. His leisurely smile and charming eyes gave him an advantage that others lacked; his people adored him; and his battle skills were unsurpassed. I’d once nicknamed him Skullsplitter, and for good reason. He had a reputation in Faythander that carried weight. Everyone knew of King Herrick’s son and his great skills. It was no wonder he had such great confidence in his abilities. He even defied his own father without worrying about the outcome. But his luck couldn’t last forever.
“I agree that you’ve been very fortunate. But surely, you must see the danger in your overconfidence. The outer isles are unlike any place you’ve traveled. You won’t have your reputation to back you up. What if your luck runs out?”
“Has Heidel caused you to worry over me?”
“Heidel has nothing to do with my worrying over you.”
“Would it help if I told you that I worry about you as well?”
I couldn’t hide my smile. “You worry about me?”
“All the time.”
“You shouldn’t. I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, I know. But it is part of our nature to worry over those we love.”
Point taken. “All right,” I conceded. “I’ll try not worry about you if you’ll do the same for me.”
He smiled. “Agreed.”
Laughter erupted from King Herrick’s table, and the king banged his tankard on the table.
“Now, if we could get your father to stop worrying about you,” I mumbled.
“Hmm,” Kull grunted. “Not even my hero’s skills can accomplish that.”
A few Wults from the king’s table, including Ket, stood and worked their way to the exit. When she caught sight of Kull, she gave him a knowing grin.
I wanted to work up
