Chapter 32 Trew
TREW
“You wanted to speak with me last night?” I asked when Isi stepped through the open doorway for combat training the next morning, her friends right behind her.
I leaned in closer, savoring her light scent and the way the leathers I’d given her hugged her body.
“I chastised them for not letting you in. I would’ve welcomed your company. ”
Lexie nudged past us, rolling her eyes. Derren shot Isi a grin and followed Lexie, his ember-winged moth-hawk companion fluttering by his left shoulder.
Maddox shoved past my minx, making her shift herself to the side.
My growl echoed in the room.
He froze, blinking up at me, before looking between us. His lips twisted, and he gave me a stiff nod before moving into the room, joining Bryson near the sparring mats.
“Why did you come to my rooms?” I asked in a softer voice, not interested in providing her watching friends with a show.
“I had some questions.” She studied my face.
“Had.”
“I’m no longer sure if you’re the one I should ask.”
It was all I could do not to snarl. “I will give you any help you need.”
“Noted.” She eased past me, joining her friends who were warming up on the mats.
Gavelle, perched on my shoulder, made eye contact.
“Yes, I know,” I grumbled to him under my breath. “I’m not trying hard enough, am I?”
I sensed the bird was reserving judgement on that one.
He lifted off my shoulder and soared into the room, shooting toward the high ceiling.
I strode over to stand in front of the group, calling for attention. No need to look toward the viewing room. It was not only blocked off but also warded to scorch through bones if anyone attempted to enter.
The faint scents of leather, sweat, and oil applied to the training weapons hung in the air. Sunlight slanted in through the high windows, laying golden stripes on the warriors’ faces. Seven of them today, forming a loose semicircle, shifting on their feet with a mix of anticipation and nerves.
Gavelle remained nothing more than a shadow above, his talons curled around a narrow beam, his ember-orange eyes sweeping over the group.
“Today, we’ll do more close-quarters sparring,” I said. “Despite yesterday’s…”
I shook my head. Last night, I’d visited Crey’s widow myself to deliver the news. Held her while she cried. Made promises of ongoing income I’d ensure was delivered to her each month. But material things couldn’t replace her husband, couldn’t replace one of my people.
Clearing my tight throat, I continued. “Yesterday, I was able to assess your abilities, and I plan to work with each of you individually while the rest of you spar. I’ll match you with someone who either has stronger skills or who needs help to better themselves.
If you’re able to defeat your opponent, I want to hear you telling them where they can improve, where you found weaknesses. ”
Isi shifted her weight, and a loose strand of golden hair slid forward across her shoulder. When our eyes met, I dragged my gaze away. These warriors deserved the best training possible, and I was going to give it to them.
I didn’t look at her again, though the urge pulled at me like gravity.
“I saw a few areas all of you could work on,” I said.
“Don’t overthink this. If you start planning three moves ahead, you’ll miss the strike right in front of you.
React. Adjust. End the fight as quickly as possible.
Here, of course, you will do so without harming your opponent. In the field, well…”
I didn’t need to finish the statement.
I paired Lexie with Isi, Derren with Bryson.
“Kerralyn,” I said. “You’re with Fenna.”
“I’ll treat you right,” Fenna said, her smile tinged with mischief. “You can trust me.”
Kerralyn grinned. “I’m bookish, but I’m fast. You’ll have to catch me first.”
“What about me?” Maddox asked, his ever-present glare sent Isi’s way. One of these days, I was going to remove it from his face and replace it with something he’d feel bone deep. Then he could live with regret instead of anger.
“Your turn will come,” I said. “For now, I’d like you to watch the matches and call out pointers to both opponents.”
He studied my face for a long moment before giving me a curt nod. “I can do that.”
Isi and Lexie moved to one of the mats and warmed up. When they were ready, Lexie grinned, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Don’t hold back just because you like me,” she told Isi.
Isi’s mouth curled up on the corners. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The moment I signaled them to start, Lexie lunged with a quick right strike, aiming for Isi’s shoulder.
Isi was already moving, pivoting out of the way, her arm brushing Lexie’s to redirect her momentum. The move flowed into a sweep that took Lexie’s legs out from underneath her. Lexie hit the mat with a startled grunt and a laugh, the sounds bouncing off the high walls.
Isi didn’t so much as smirk. She reached a hand down and hauled Lexie up like it was nothing.
“Your block’s solid,” she said, guiding her friend back into stance. “But your pivot left you wide open.”
Lexie grinned. “Guess I’ve been doing it wrong.”
“Watch here.” Isi tapped the inside of Lexie’s boot with her own, shifting it enough to close the gap. “Smaller pivot, tighter guard. Then it’ll be harder to knock you off balance.”
I circled them, my hands clasped behind my back. “Good job, Barlowe.”
She lifted her eyebrows my way.
My lips almost curved before I caught myself. Gavelle shifted above, his talons scraping the wood, and I realized he was laughing at me.
When the first round was over, I matched Bryson with Isi. Fenna and Maddox both worked with Kerralyn, who, like she’d pointed out, was bookish. But she was also fast and that could make all the difference if she ever met up with a Skathe.
Bryson strode over to the mat, joining Isi, who swiped hair out of her face. The big man smiled in that quiet, assessing way I’d always liked. He moved with the patience of someone who’d fought long enough to know that you had to pace yourself in battle or you’d burn out fast.
He opened with a controlled strike toward her ribs. She blocked, twisting her body to redirect the blow, but he pressed the advantage, forcing her to pivot tighter and change angles. She adjusted without hesitation, using her reach to keep him back.
The hits came quick, each one echoing across the room. Bryson landed a glancing blow to her side, and she grinned like he’d handed her a challenge instead of pain.
A thrum of satisfaction ran through me. She fought like she had in the hallway that first night, when the man came for her with a knife, but her moves held an edge of lethal sharpness I’d missed. I’d known then that she could handle herself; now I knew she could do more than that.
Bryson pressed in, and she let him, feinted left, then hooked his ankle and swept him down with a thump that echoed through the room.
He rolled to his feet, laughing. “You’d do well in the army.”
“She’d do well anywhere,” I said under my breath. I should’ve stopped there, but the words came out anyway. “Though I think she’d get bored anywhere else but here.”
She didn’t look at me, which only made me certain she’d heard. Her spine went a little straighter, and she turned toward her friends without a word.
Let her pretend she hadn’t heard. That way I could pretend I hadn’t meant to say it.
“Ready for the next round?” I called out, seeing the others had finished as well.
After I’d assigned more matches, Derren stepped onto Isi’s mat, loosening his shoulders, his green eyes flicking toward Isi with a grin that held just enough challenge to make my jaw tick.
“Ready?” he asked her, spacing his feet just right, his palms spreading wide.
“Sure. You?”
I gave the signal, then worked with Kerralyn, giving her guidance while my attention mostly remained on Isi.
They closed fast, their boots whispering on the mats. Derren used a quick and unpredictable style. He wasn’t as heavy-footed as Bryson, nor as brash as Maddox. He fought like a spark catching dry tinder. Sharp, with sudden bursts of movement, never quite where you’d expect him to be.
Isi didn’t flinch. She matched him step for step, her pale hair swinging with each turn, her braid brushing over her shoulder as she ducked a feint toward her head.
Derren pressed harder, driving her back a few steps, and I stilled enough to miss Kerralyn’s blow to my side.
“Good,” I told her. “Practice with Bryson.”
I shifted closer to Isi and Derren. I wouldn’t interfere, but I needed to be near enough in case he overreached. I told myself it was something a regular instructor would do. That it was training oversight, not the itch of wanting to put my body between hers and any threat.
Derren aimed a quick strike toward her shoulder, but she blocked him in a blur of motion. She countered, her palm glancing off his hip. He twisted and came in from the opposite side, and caught her back with the flat of his hand. A light touch, but it was enough to score the point.
I didn’t miss her wince.
Who had whipped her? I wanted to demand she tell me. No, I wanted her to tell me without having to demand.
“Watch your flank,” Derren called out in a low voice. “You leaned in a bit too much, signaling your next move.”
“Thanks.” She swiped stray hair off her face and braced herself, watching him as he danced around her on the balls of his feet.
She smirked and went at Derren fast. They traded blows, each landing light strikes. Their breathing quickened, the air full of the sound of boots sliding on mats, grunts, and quick conversation.
I knew the rhythm of a match about to tilt, and I could see her feeling it too.
Derren caught her arm and twisted, shoving her into a position that would’ve left her wide open. I flexed my fingers at my sides. If I was her opponent, I’d step in close enough to cage her, make her feel the heat of the loss before taking her down.
But she didn’t give him the chance.