Chapter 2 Declan #2
I shrugged. “Did you hear me say you had to use your sword? I gave you the rules. Silivan followed them and forced his opponent out before time expired.”
The whispers of disapproval continued.
I crossed my arms. “Do you think bandits will fight fairly? You lot need to wake up. We aren’t preparing you to play games. You’re prepping to deal with real-life people and wildlife, often vicious animals who may want to kill you.”
“So I can kick them in the balls?” Meave Gallagher, the feistiest of the three female members of the team, said.
I grinned as the assembled men hushed and waited for my reply. “If you can get your boot between their legs, go for it.”
The women’s grins grew as the men’s faces turned ashen. I fought my own crooked grin.
“Don’t draw blood. Stay away from eyes or anything that might cause permanent damage. Otherwise, don’t droop your bloody sword and stay inside the ring. Got it?”
Uneasy nods were the cadets’ only answers.
“Next.” I eyed the group. “Gallagher and Campbell.”
“No balls to kick there,” one of the men quipped as the two women strode forward. Meave turned back and gave all the men a vulgar gesture.
“There’s the lady we love,” another man called out, earning a chorus of laughter.
“Bring those tasty nuts over here, and I’ll show you what kind of lady I am,” Meave called over her shoulder, kicking her heel up as she walked.
The men, now more boys than cadets, lost all sense of decorum, hooting and hollering in response.
“Enough!” I barked, quieting everyone, then turned toward the two competitors now inside the ring. “Pick your weapons and take your positions.”
I hadn’t meant to glance at Ayden, but his brilliant smile shone through the unit and distracted me. The annoying man still leaned against a tree and was clearly enjoying the banter. When he noticed me staring, his smile widened, reaching his eyes.
I looked away quickly and tried to ignore the heat racing up my neck.
“Ready?” I called, focusing on the women glaring at each other from across the ring. Meave twirled her sword and grinned wildly. Her opponent remained calm and still.
“Fight!”
Unlike the previous bout, Meave made quick work of her opponent. Fainting left, darting right, and bringing her full weight down through a sword strike that drove Campbell’s weapon to the ground and left her holding her arm.
Two more contests followed before I turned to Aaron.
“Dempsy, Conner,” I barked, indicating the weakest of the men would face a woman whose smile rarely faltered, but who all knew was as deadly as an adder, especially when she wielded a blade.
Aoife Conner wrapped an arm around Aaron’s shoulders and leaned in. “I’ll make this last as long as I can, okay? I want you to look good.”
Aaron pulled away, annoyance flooding his face, but looked too terrified to think of a snappy reply.
I had barely yelled, “Fight,” before Conner shot forward, whipped her sword in a circle that blurred in the air, and disarmed Aaron. His sword hit the sand before he realized it had even left his hand.
Aaron gaped at his palm as though it had betrayed him, then glanced up at Conner.
She shrugged. “Sorry, I needed a win. Tricks are part of the game.”
And just like that, Aaron’s hopes of advancing into his second year dimmed.
By the time Aaron lost his fifth bout, I had dismissed all the cadets except Cormac, a skilled swordsman Aaron stood no chance of defeating.
Ayden hadn’t moved from his tree, and I caught myself glancing over more than a few times, each gaze earning an annoyingly perfect, toothy grin.
“Aaron, go get some water,” I ordered.
“I’m not—”
“Aaron, you are thirsty. Get some water.”
Confusion remained on the hapless boy’s face, but he did as instructed, leaving Cormac and me alone in the ring.
“Cormac, I need you to do something,” I began.
Cormac was shaking his head with each word. “I won’t throw a round. Honor—”
“I would never threaten your honor.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
Honor wouldn’t stop a bandit or a boar from skewering the idiot.
“We both know there’s no way Aaron can disarm you. A straight-up fight is a waste of your time. I want you to work on your evasion skills in this round. Only defend. Practice your forms, especially dodge and parry. Pretend you’re sparring with a king or prince, and you’re not allowed to attack,
only protect.”
“But, Cadet-Sergeant—”
“This is for you, not him.” I held up a palm. “Watching you spar against Lachlan made me realize you never have to defend against anyone in the unit. You need that practice.”
A moment of silence passed as we stared at one another. Cormac’s eyes were defiant, but he nodded once.
“Good. Not a word to Aaron. I don’t want him changing his tactics.”
“Whatever those might be,” Cormac murmured.
“Right.” I grunted. “Just work on your own forms, and don’t worry about him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Aaron returned a moment later, looking just as nervous and exhausted as he had before leaving for his drink.
“All right, take your marks,” I ordered. “Fight!”
Cormac stared, unmoving.
Aaron waited.
A moment passed, then another.
Still, neither moved.
“You said ‘go,’ didn’t you?” Aaron asked.
I lost my battle with an eye roll. “Yes, Aaron. Time is running. One of you do something.”
Aaron lunged forward, sword raised above his head like he was some heroic statue that would never actually have to strike an opponent.
When he reached where Cormac stood, the big man simply stepped to the side and let Aaron stumble past.
Aaron nearly fell out of the ring without either man touching the other.
Cormac danced to the opposite side and stared as Aaron regained his footing.
I stepped back until I bumped into the bench and sat, wishing I didn’t have to watch the mess unfolding before me.
Aaron shot forward, this time more balanced and wary.
He swung to the right, and Cormac parried easily.
Then he swung left, where Cormac dodged like a dancer changing partners.
Aaron dropped nearly to his knees and swung at Cormac’s ankles.
The big man leaped, nearly hurdling over his scrawny opponent’s bent form, then landed lightly on his feet a pace away.
I squinted at the hourglass. There was still three-quarters of the bout to go. I blew out a heavy sigh.
When the sand was nearly out, I stood and shouted, “Aaron, attack! You’re almost out of time. Press him!”
Aaron startled, then flew into a gangly blur. His arms flailed, and his sword swung, forcing Cormac to dance faster than he had all bout.
Still, the boy never scored a touch on the mountain.
But that had not been a requirement in the rules.
“Time!” I called. “A draw.”
Cormac’s face was an unreadable mask as he left the ring. Aaron remained bent, hands on his knees, desperately sucking in air.
The moment Cormac was out of earshot, I stepped forward and rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Congratulations, cadet. You passed the second test.”
Aaron’s head shot up. “What? Really? I . . . wait . . . you’re serious?”
A smile filled my face as I nodded. “Yes, Aaron, I’m serious. You needed a draw, and you got one. It would’ve been nice if you’d touched Cormac, but a win is a win.”
Aaron’s head bobbed, and his toothy grin made me laugh.
“Aaron, your hair might be beyond cleaning, and the rest of you needs a bath. Get out of here.”
“Yes, sir.” He stiffened, then bounded out of the ring and raced toward the compound’s barracks.
I stared after the boy and shook my head.
“You do him no favors, you know.”
I nearly drew my sword as Ayden stepped up behind me. I’d forgotten the man was still watching.
“Why are you here, Byrne? Don’t you have somewhere better to be than watching First Years test?”
Ayden inclined his head. “Thank you for allowing me to observe. I have yet to receive my assignment, so I have a bit of free time. Watching your unit yesterday made me curious about how they would perform in the ring. It was . . . entertaining.”
I wanted to punch him. “Entertaining? These cadets are working their arses off out here. Show them a little—”
“Easy.” Ayden threw up his palms. “I meant no disrespect. You are good with them, and they clearly respect you. This bodes well for after we leave this place and face the real world together.”
Ayden’s sudden shift from smug derision to complimentary had my head spinning. There was no mocking in his tone or taunting on his lips. Everything about his words and bearing spoke of honest praise.
I stared, trying to decide if I believed the man.
Ayden’s deep blue eyes stared back.
“Uh, okay, thanks,” I fumbled, finally tearing my gaze away to focus on the practice sword Aaron had left behind. “I’d better put this away.” I lifted the sword.
“Right. Very important, that sword. Good thought.” A curl twisted the corner of Ayden’s mouth. “Nice chatting with you, Declan.”
Ayden inclined his head, then strode away toward the headquarters building.
I stared after him, watching curls of sun-kissed hair dangle and wave.
“Arse,” I muttered, as I stepped out of the sandy ring and dropped the sword into an empty slot on the rack.