Aldwine is deft in his initial attack, his training serving him well, and in no time at all, the small courtyard begins to fill with observers. I can sense the presence of my men, likely curious as to the nature of this challenge.
I sidestep his strike, surprised at his skill. Though I anticipated he would disengage, his quick lunge puts me on the defensive.
With blow after blow, the clang of our swords ring out. Without shields, it is a very different fight, blocking impossible. Instead, I catch his strikes by deflecting them. Aldwine does the same. Although I hate myself for it, part of me does hold back. Our swords are not blunted, and it wouldn’t bode well to injure Galfrid’s son. Nor would Aedre thank me for hurting her friend.
The thought of Aedre finding out I injured Kipp stays with me. It’s hard to banish, and so I try to put a quick end to our challenge. It’s my downfall. Aldwine takes advantage of a slight slip on my part, and the tip of his sword is pointed directly at my nose before I can fully bring my own down to parry it.
I raise both hands, indicating that I yield.
It is my first loss since my trainer died. Even sickened, the man could anticipate my every move, and only once, in all the years that we trained together, did I ever gain the upper hand.
From my observations, Kipp Aldwine is all his father says of him, and more. A highly skilled swordsman, a man determined to protect those he loves. One who others clearly look up to and support, even if he is a reluctant leader.
On the battlefield, a loss meant death. Here, in this small makeshift training yard, it means something nearly impossible to consider.
“Leave Murwood End, if you are truly a man of your word.”
Aldwine puts down his weapon to cheers from his people. I know my own men are behind me, but I do not turn to look at them. Instead, I stare into the eyes of a man destined to be king. How can he not recognize the royal blood that courses through his veins?
“I am, and I will. But I tell you this, Master Aldwine. You were born for the role.” I lower my voice. “And I would gladly serve you.”
He is unmoved by my declaration.
“If Aedre truly does not wish to see me, tomorrow after my meeting with the queen’s commander”—I can hardly believe these words are coming from me—“my men and I will depart for d’Almerita.”
Ignoring all around us, I wait for his response.
Aldwine does not hesitate.
“Then I bid you a good day, my lord.”
With a quick nod of the head, Aldwine sheathes his sword and turns to leave.
The men surround me, all speaking at once. Incredulous that I lost, effusively praising Aldwine’s swordsmanship. My arm burns with the effort of our engagement. I slip my sword back into its sheath.
Salvi repeats the question he and the others continue to ask.
“Why did you fight Aldwine?”
The question finally penetrates, but I can’t bring myself to answer it. I am numb with the thought of leaving without seeing her again.
“Vanni?”
All three of my men surround me, and so I give them as much as I’m able.
“He defends Aedre. We leave tomorrow.”
Walking away, knowing my answer is insufficient but unable to care, I leave the inn. I walk past the docks and head toward the one place I’ve found a measure of solace in Murwood End.
Chapter Thirty-Four Aedre
“Aedre, you have a visitor.”
My heart leaps until I see Kipp in the doorframe.
“You terrified me. For a moment, I thought . . .”
He sits down on the edge of my bed.
“You thought I was d’Abella?”
Sitting up, I shove the doll underneath my pillow. But not quickly enough.
“I see her under there.”
Only Kipp could force a smile from me right now.
“Whatever do you mean?”
He’s much too quick. Before I can shove him away, Kipp reaches over and snatches the yarn doll out from under the pillow.
“Ah, let me see if I can remember.”
He points to her one red arm. “A reminder of the woman’s flow and the strength she possesses.”
Kipp turns the doll Amma gave me upside down by its foot, its orange leg on display.
“The Garra scorn the church’s belief that women are polluted by their desire for sex and are drawn to men as a result of this pollution. Instead, they revel in the belief that we are sexual beings by design, certainly nothing to be ashamed of. And this pink arm is for pleasure, derived from your own hand or another.”
I groan and beg him to stop, which only seems to encourage him.
“The yellow leg, a reminder the woman is not an evil temptress or a virginal goddess but can be everything in between, if she so chooses.”
He pokes the middle of my yarn Kona directly in the center of the depiction of a dove. “And this, the most important symbol of all. Defiance of the belief that a man and woman cannot find romantic love in marriage.”
“Imagine,” I scoff, unable to resist, “convening a court to determine such a thing.”
Though this “court” ruled in the favor of marital love nearly one hundred years earlier, the vestiges of such a belief are obviously alive and well outside Murwood End.
“You forget in many parts of Meria nobles attempt to retain, or grow, their lands and influence through marriage. Marriage for love is simply not possible for them. And so they rail against the idea of it in every way possible.”
“You tell me what I know already, Kipp.” I snatch the doll from him, swatting him on the shoulder with my other hand. “Cease your laughing. The Kona is sacred, as well you know.”
“And you need no reminders of her lessons. So why does she hide under your pillow?”
I put her back there knowing she’s not completely out of his reach.
“She reminds me of Amma.”
Kipp sobers immediately. But
