Chapter 4

“Trystan.” Why was Alixa’s voice so soft? There was nothing about her that was supposed to be soft. She was hardened. Angry.

He stared wordlessly at the assembly before him. Cullenspire was in mourning for their king, and Lady Yaro wanted to put Trystan on full display. She believed he was the only one that could prevent the weight of despair from crushing all of Dreach-Sciene. The news would have been winding its way through every village and across the countryside over the past week. Marcus Renauld had been their hero king. He’d been crowned on a battlefield and never once stopped fighting for his people.

When Trystan was a child, he had badgered his father relentlessly to regale him with stories of their warrior mother. Now he couldn’t recall much of what he’d been told, and he wished more than anything he could. Both of his parents were gone.

Trystan was raised to be the king, but it always seemed like a far-off destiny. Now it was here. Everyone looked to him to lead, but he had nothing. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again. These people arrived in the hall for the noonday meal hoping to hear something from their new king.

He wasn’t crowned yet, but in the ways of Dreach-Sciene, that didn’t matter. Upon his father’s death, he held the rank of king and would be treated as such.

It was a new world from what it had been only days ago when he was the Toha with a singular mission.

Much to everyone’s dismay, Trystan gave up trying to speak and sat down. He took a generous gulp of wine.

“Trystan.” Alixa rested her hand on his arm and tightened her grip.

He shook his head. “Please don’t.”

She smiled at him sadly and he hated it. There wasn’t a sympathetic bone in that woman’s body, yet something akin to pity shone in her eyes.

“Where’s my sister?” he asked, scanning the long table for her bright hair.

It was Avery who answered. “She’s been scarce, sire.”

He scowled at Avery, wishing she’d drop the formality. It wasn’t exactly new for her, but it had intensified. Avery was close to his father and his mother before that, but she was as unruffled as ever.

Avery stood abruptly. “I think it’s time the princess joins us.”

“I agree.” Trystan nodded as Avery left to find his sister.

He’d spent the entire day before searching the grounds for her, but she was a ghost. As hard as losing Davi and his father was for Trystan, he knew he’d get through it. There would always be holes in his life now, but he had to be strong.

Rissa was different and her sudden change scared him. The holes in her life threatened to swallow her with their darkness.

Alixa’s hand still rested on his arm, and he stared at it for a moment before raising his eyes to meet hers, letting the familiarity comfort him. He’d had to talk to so many strangers offering condolences that her presence soothed him.

She jerked back suddenly, staring at her hand as if it betrayed her by touching him. She cleared her throat. “Briggs should be well enough to travel soon.”

“We won’t leave a moment before then.”

She sighed. It was an argument he’d been having with Alixa and Rissa both. They thought they should be returning to the palace as soon as they could, but they were daft if they thought he’d leave Briggs behind. The Tri-Gard was still their best hope of restoring the kingdom and as much as his father’s death hurt, he refused to let it derail the mission.

His uncle and Lord Coille would handle things until he returned. Drake had taken over every time his father had to leave the palace. The king was never alone.

Trystan finished eating and left without another word to return to the solitude of his rooms for just a moment of respite. He sat on the edge of his bed and let the events of the past days enter his mind, taking over every thought, every emotion. Exhaustion had him slumping forward.

Davi.

His father.

Who would be next?

He rubbed his eyes, fighting back the tears. He was king now. He had to be stronger than everyone else.

But in that moment, he didn’t want to be strong. He wanted to break down. To plead with the earth to give him back the people he loved. To take him instead.

A tear fell, followed by more he couldn’t hold back. His back shook. He was so lost in his own grief, he didn’t hear the door open and shut. Before he saw her, two arms came around him. Alixa stepped between his legs, and he buried his face in her neck without shame. Her dark skin glistened with the evidence of his weakness.

She didn’t say a word as she held a king and let him weep.

He didn’t know how long they stayed there—him sitting, her standing in front of him—but after a while he reined himself in and pulled back.

She watched him intently and brushed the wetness from his cheeks. After giving him a short nod, she stepped back. “Lady Yaro wishes to speak with you. Are you ready to go be king?”

“Yes.” He breathed out slowly.

“Okay, good. Just know, if you tell anyone I hugged you, your title won’t stop me from coming after you.”

He smiled, despite the weight in his heart, and raised a brow. “Treason already? My reign is only days old.”

She tugged on his arm. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Can you go back to being mean to me? I kind of miss it.”

“Shut up.”

* * *

The wind howled through the treetops, bringing with it tiny pebbles of hail. The past two days the weather had grown harsher, but Rissa felt none of the stinging cold that bit at her cheeks and nose, turning them a most unbecoming red. She was oblivious to the frost nipping at her fingers or the ice dulling her red hair. The weather matched her soul, barren and frigid. There was no distinction.

She’d made the small grove of trees at the back end of Cullenspire estate her escape from the others and had spent most of the past week and a half hiding out here. Fog lay low over the ground, damp and swirling around her ankles, only adding to the eeriness of the dead forest. She paid it no mind. In fact, she welcomed the quiet it seemed to bring with it. It was much preferable to Alixa’s incessant mumblings of sympathy and Trystan’s worried glances. She hated the way they were treating her. Like she was some fragile china doll about to crack from the tiniest pressure. Then again, she hated everything lately. Hate filled every crevice of her heart. Hate and revenge. There was no room for any other feelings. She preferred it that way.

She studied the thick tree trunk in front of her. The numerous gouges in the sickly, gray bark were a testament to how many times she’d struck it over the past few days. Ability to hit a mark while in motion was a useful thing to learn and since she had nothing else to occupy her time while they stupidly sat around waiting to move out, she might as well do something useful. Keeping her body in motion occupied her mind.

Waiting. She didn’t understand the why. What the hell was Trystan waiting for? They needed to get back to Dreach-Sciene, to the castle. They needed to make haste. Instead, her brother kept insisting Briggs needed more time to recover. More time for him to make googly eyes at Alixa was more like it. That was all he did lately, stare after the girl with desire in his eyes. Pining after some traitor’s daughter while Davi was gone, and their father laid stiff and cold on his funeral pyre. Even just thinking about it fueled the anger burning hot in her gut.

She detested having to stay behind these walls, but since Trystan was the king now, he called the shots. King Trystan. King because their father had been murdered in his own home by some cowardly soldier of Dreach-Dhoun. The hatred won out over sorrow as she refused to let free the tears blocking her throat. Swallowing hard, she twirled and lunged at the tree trunk again with her sword, trying to hit the mark she’d placed there earlier. But like a hundred times before, she missed, and the blade stuck good and deep in an existing groove.

“Dammit,” she muttered as she placed her boot against the tree and tried to pull the blade free. It refused to let go. Wrapping both hands around the hilt, she tugged harder, only to have it tear loose. Stumbling back, she landed on her backside on the marshy ground. Icy water splattered over her neck and ran down her back, but she ignored it as she stared up at her tree nemesis, narrowing her eyes with determination.

“I will not be beaten by a stupid tree. You will pay for that,” she growled at it like it could hear her angry threat.

“And I’m sure the tree is cowering in its own tree-like way, Princess.”

Avery’s shadow fell over her as the sword master reached down with a gloved hand, offering assistance. Rissa glared up at her. She hadn’t even heard her approach. Had she been watching her the whole time? And was that an actual smile threatening to break the grim line she called her lips? Not quite sure if Avery was laughing at her or not, Rissa accepted the gloved hand with a sigh.

Avery pulled her to her feet and Rissa hid her embarrassment by fussing with her tunic and cloak, wiping in vain at the muddy streaks on her clothes. Only once the color faded from her cheeks, did she lift her eyes to meet the sword master’s gaze.

“Why are you here, Avery? Did Trystan send you to watch over me like some child?”

“The king worries about you, Princess.”

The king. For a moment Rissa thought she was referring to her father, and her heart shrank a tiny bit more when she realized Avery meant Trystan. That sharp reminder made her response a bit harsher than she meant it to be. “Yes well, if Trystan worried more about our quest to save our realm than he did the old man back there pretending to be ill just so he can get out of traveling, then I’d be much happier.”

“Our new king has much on his shoulders, Princess. You of all people know this. He will make the decisions in all of our best interests.”

“Our best interest is to head back to the palace of Dreach-Sciene as soon as possible. This waiting is unnecessary and uncalled for.”

“We do as the king wishes.” Avery’s dutiful monotone response irritated Rissa to no end.

“But of course,” she hissed, her tone filled with venom. “We dare not disobey the king. After all, it isn’t as if he’s just some naïve, silly boy who had the title fall into his lap because of his father’s murder. The king knows what’s best for us all.”

“Princess…”

Rissa cut short whatever Avery was about to say. She didn’t want to hear the sword master’s defense of her brother. She didn’t want to hear any more talk. Talking was useless. Action was what made a difference. Turning her back to the other woman, she walked to the sword standing upright in the mud and yanked it out with a strong grip. She studied the dull blade and flipped it around a couple of times with her wrist, testing its weight in her hand.

“What am I doing wrong, Avery?” She glanced over her shoulder.

“I am sorry, my lady, I don’t understand the question.”

She turned to face the older woman. “With this? No matter how I try, I can’t seem to hit my target. I must admit, it is quite a bit more cumbersome than my bow.”

Avery crossed her arms and raised a brow Rissa’s way. “Why the sudden interest in sword fighting? You’re more than competent with your bow. Swords need not concern you.”

“Oh?” Rissa’s tone was deceivingly quiet. “And you think you know better of where my concerns should lie?”

Avery dropped her eyes and gave the girl a slight nod of deference. “Sorry, Princess. I did not mean that to come out the way it sounded. What I meant was, you are a skilled archer. The king needs you most where you are the strongest.”

“Doesn’t matter where the king needs me. I wish to learn the basics of sword fighting. Everyone in our group is adept with a sword. Even Alixa. I, too, wish to wield one with skill. The soldiers always say there is nothing more rewarding than cutting one’s enemy down while you look them straight in the eye. And we have a lot of enemies now, do we not?”

The sword master studied Rissa in silence, but Ri could see the vein throbbing in her temple.

“Your father would not be pleased to see you wielding a sword. He never wanted you to be a fighter.”

“My father is dead, Avery.” Rissa’s words were as cold as the northern wind blowing through the barren branches above their heads. “It matters not what he wants or does not want me to be. Not anymore.”

“Please, my lady. I ask you to reconsider…”

“You are in no position to ask me anything, sword master. I am the Princess of Dreach-Sciene, and I command you to teach me.”

Avery swallowed her next words at Rissa’s challenging stare, choosing to stay quiet on the matter. Instead, she sighed and pointed down.

“As you wish, Princess. It’s all in your stance. Your footing and proper foot placement is key for balance. Always have your feet shoulder width apart. When you move, move so your legs spread apart. Never have your feet close to each other. Like so.” She demonstrated, and Rissa followed her movements.

“Like this?”

“Yes. Now hold your sword so you can handle it with ease. Keep your stance firm. The more grounded you are, the greater strength in your attacks. To keep your balance in battle, try to slide your feet rather than lift them up to take a step. Even a slight lifting of your heel reduces your grounding, so be cautious with how your feet are placed and used during each strike, otherwise you’ll give your opponent a chance to knock you over.”

Rissa followed the command, concentrating on her stance and slowly swinging with the blade in front of her. “I see what you mean, Avery.”

“Well done, Princess. But stand up straighter. Keeping your posture erect and torso forward will also keep you from losing your balance during your swings. It also allows you to avoid any blows from your opponent with a simple twist rather than forcing yourself to turn sideways, which will only allow you to evade an attack in one direction. You need to be able to move away from an attacker effortlessly, and in either direction.”

Rissa swung the sword, sliding her feet across the wet ground and evading her pretend enemy as Avery looked on. Finally satisfied with her footwork, she raised a brow Avery’s way.

“What else?”

“Your sword, my lady. It’s not just a weapon, it’s your best protection. Missing just one block or parry can be fatal, so you need to protect yourself at all times. Maintain your sword in a position that runs from the bottom of your torso to the top of your head. Like so.” Avery moved Rissa’s hands, so the sword centered the middle of her body. “This will enable you to respond to an attack with speed and give you the best angles for your own strikes.”

Avery stepped back as Rissa slashed at the air, time after time. Sparring with the enemy in her head with a viciousness only she could feel.

“Bend your elbows,” Avery instructed. “Keep your sword closer to your body. That allows you to thrust and parry quickly. Extend your sword toward your opponent, not your arms.”

Rissa did as told. Sweat beaded her brow as she moved and followed through on the commands Avery called to her. Over and over she repeated the moves, practicing until her uncertain actions evolved into the smooth flow of precise movement.

“Well done, Princess,” Avery gave Rissa a slight smile of approval. “You learn quickly.”

Rissa stopped, breathing deeply and wiping the sweat from her brow. “Yes, well any idiot can learn how to move with a sword. I want to learn to fight. Fight me, Avery.”

“Princess, there is no need to duel with me. I can teach you to wield your blade well enough without actual sparring.”

Rissa arched a brow. “And where is the fun in that? You didn’t train Trystan or Davi that way. As a matter of fact, I remember them spending a lot more times knocked over on their behinds than they spent standing on their own two feet when sparring with you. Train me like that.”

“That was different.”

“Different? How so? And don’t you dare tell me because they were boys. I will be sorely disappointed if that’s the case. You, of all people, Avery, should not let a person’s gender determine how good of a warrior they can be.”

The sword master’s lips compressed even tighter in disapproval. “That is not what I meant at all, Princess. You very well know many of my best soldiers are women. I meant it was different because the Prince and Davion were expected to be protectors of the realm. They were expected to train and fight. Your father did not wish that for you. He knew you were meant for greater things. Where Trystan was meant to be the sword and might of Dreach-Sciene, you were meant to be its heart and soul. It’s what your father wanted.”

“Why must you make me repeat myself, Avery?” Rissa’s emerald gaze flashed with a mixture of anger and sorrow. “What my father wanted is a moot point since he is dead. Now pull your weapon.” She pointed the tip of her sword toward Avery’s throat, emphasizing her order.

The sword master crossed her arms stubbornly over her armor-plated chest. “I will not.”

“I command you, sword master, to fight with me.” Rissa’s eyes narrowed in threat. “Do not make me tell the king that you disobeyed a direct command.”

With an audible grunt of disapproval, Avery unsheathed her blade, raising it just in time for Rissa’s attack. The echoing clang of blades roused the crows nesting in the trees above their heads and the birds flew off with an irritated squawking.

The two women paid no attention. Rissa was too intent on throwing attack after angry attack Avery’s way, but Avery simply side stepped and parried every thrust, refusing to strike back.

“Fight!” Rissa screamed as her blade descended once more, only to be intercepted by Avery’s. The jarring contact vibrated deep into Rissa’s shoulder. Avery shoved at the crossed blades, sending Rissa stumbling backward.

“I said fight me, dammit!” Rissa ran at Avery, her sword extended in front of her. Avery calmly waited, sword held against her body in protection, until Rissa was close enough to thrust. The sword master deflected the wild slash and yanked the swords upward, sending Rissa’s blade sailing over their heads. In the same motion she kicked Rissa’s feet out from under her, landing the princess in a very undignified position on her backside in the mud.

Stunned, Rissa glared up at the older woman as the watery mud trickled down her face, but she ignored its icy touch. They both kept staring, Rissa breathing heavy from her exertion while Avery regarded her in cool silence, not winded in the least. Finally, Rissa grunted ‘screw you’ as she grabbed a handful of mud and threw it Avery’s way. It splashed up the older woman’s trousers, but Avery paid it no mind as she sheathed her sword.

“I warned you not to lift your feet. Never run at your opponent in anger. When you’re in a frazzled state of mind you cannot act with speed or clarity, understand?”

Rissa wanted to scream in humiliation and frustration, but instead she gave a curt nod.

“Good. Now, I know you wish to train for battle but it’s not something that can be done in a day. I will train you, Princess, since that is your wish, but it will be done on my terms. You will listen and learn, and you will not order me to rush it, agreed?”

Again, Rissa nodded in agreement.

Avery sighed as she shook her head. “After all the times you watched me set the boys on their asses, I’m so disillusioned you fell for it as well. I always thought you smarter than that.”

A tiny smile tugged at Rissa’s lips as her fury ebbed away. “Sorry to disappoint you, Avery.”

The sword master leaned down and held out a hand. Rissa took it, appreciating the help.

“You could never disappoint me, Princess. Just remember, you do not stand by yourself in your grief.”

For the first time Rissa saw the sadness in Avery’s eyes as well, and for a moment she forgot what it was like to be alone in her solitude.

“Avery, I’m—”

The apology died on her lips as the sound of a horn pierced the air. The long blast was soon followed by two quick bursts and the alarm on Avery’s face intensified Rissa’s unease.

“What is it?” she asked, but Avery’s answer was interrupted by shouting. Cullenspire guards appeared from everywhere, rushing toward the front of the estate. Avery, still holding Rissa’s hand, started running as well, dragging Ri toward the manor.

“Everyone take arms and man your positions,” a guard yelled as he led the others. His eyes fell on Avery and Rissa, and he drew up short. “Sword master, we will appreciate your aid in this matter, but you must get the princess inside and hidden. We have enemies at the gate. Lord Eisner and his army are here.”