“Those men I was dicing with thought they could take me for all of my coin, or take me to bed,” Nym told Lana conspiratorially. “They were sorely disappointed in both cases. How did you enjoy the town?”
“Oh, it was fine,” she said, slightly shocked at the woman’s forthrightness. “I bought a few things for our journey but I’m ready to go. I want to see my new homeland.”
Nodding in understanding, Nym finished her bowl of oatmeal and threw back the last of her cider. She stood, stretching out her long limbs and told them she’d collect the horses and wait for them outside.
Lana and Clay finished their food in silence and went to join Nym. After stopping by the seamstress to pick up Lana’s clothing and purchasing more provisions for the rest of their trip, they departed Coalfell and set off to the east, toward Eva. A land where she could be free to live her life as she saw fit. A land where she could belong and find peace.
Braving the Mountains
The party stopped to make camp later that evening while there was still some light on the horizon. It was chilly and Lana thought she would like to simply curl up in her blankets and listen to some of the stories Nym would often tell at night about the places she’d seen on her travels, but Clay had other ideas.
She was seated on her bedroll when he approached, offering her his hand. Frowning, she looked up at him towering above her. They’d had a long day of travel and she was not keen on standing again until she absolutely had to. Leaning on his staff, he sighed.
“Come on, this will be fun,” he said. “I promise.”
She regarded him for a moment longer, then relented, taking his hand and allowing him to help her rise. He snatched her staff up off the ground and handed it to her, then turned and walked away from the camp. She followed him, curious.
He led her to an open, flat area, a good spot for practice. Was he going to continue training her?
“I thought you might be ready to start sparring,” he said with a grin. “Fighting against the air is one thing, fighting an opponent is another. I promise I’ll be gentle.”
Lana narrowed her eyes at him, sensing the challenge and rising to it. She grasped her staff in both hands, not too tightly, and set her stance. She no longer felt tired, only focused.
This length of wood was an enigma to her. She remembered when she had heard it fall to the ground in the small wooded area that she and Nym had been exploring…
She touched the tree as she passed by and felt its love for her. The land here seemed to be happy to see an elf, even a halfling like herself. They continued walking but she heard a soft thump behind her, turned back and saw it. There was a staff, just laying there at the foot of the tree as if it had always been there and she felt drawn to it…
When she’d first started practicing with it the way Clay had taught her, she was amazed at how natural it felt. Nothing like the bow and arrow, which were clumsy and awkward in her hands. The staff felt like an extension of herself, as if she’d grown a new limb but it was a limb she’d always had and could use without thought.
Sparring was a lot different than practicing on her own and Clay was putting her through her paces. Lana went into position, as she’d been taught. Mirroring her stance, Clay advanced, swinging the upper part of the staff in an effort to connect, but she caught him easily. He circled around her and then tried to go lower. She stopped him again. Was he holding back? Well, she would show him what she could do.
Lana went very still and waited for the next strike. When it came, she nimbly leapt out of the way and swept the staff downward, catching the bottom tip of his weapon and startling him enough that he lost his grip, effectively disarming him. Laughing, Clay went to retrieve his staff and turned, preparing to face her again.
This time she advanced on him but he was ready for her. The staves came together again and again as they turned this way and that, each trying to find an advantage. This continued until the light failed them completely and they were exhausted.
“You are a natural with that thing,” Clay told her admiringly.
“You probably went easy on me,” she accused him, but she was pleased with his praise.
“Not even a little. In fact, I think you went easy on me.” He seemed sincere and Lana smiled at him as they walked back to camp. Nym was already asleep so Clay decided he would take first watch and Lana could take the second.
Sparring had made her physically tired, but her mind was still restless. It was always hard to fall asleep on the nights Clay had first watch. When he was in his bedroll next to her, she felt safe and sleep could find her easily then, but nights like this were another story. She rolled over and watched the flames of the small campfire.
Her mind was a quagmire of thoughts and memories. She thought of her brother, Jacob, and realized she’d never had a proper chance to grieve for him and now she could add her father to that list. Though he hadn’t been much of a father to her, she did have some fond memories of him. Jacob, on the other hand, had been more of a part of her life. He would come to her room from time to time and talk about the places he’d seen while he was off performing his royal duties. Occasionally, he’d bring her souvenirs from these trips, like a piece of jewelry
