Chapter 15
Riding a horse by myself felt like a greater hurdle than all the trials preceding it. Worse still, Seraphim had decided Seth would start training me to fight tonight.
Pressing my thighs against the saddle, I sat rigidly, grasping the reins for dear life. The blonde mare with beautiful white locks had a gentle personality, at least, and heeded commands with little fuss. Eleos had thoroughly tested her before allowing me to ride her alone.
Trying to relax, I admired the scenery. Ainwir had taken me to Therapne when I was twelve. It felt like a lifetime ago. I had no memories of this road, nor of the city where the seat of the clergy was built.
Red-leafed trees dotted the mountains like fire burning in high pyres. Steep ridges collapsed into deep gorges, and waterfalls trailed from the highest peaks into the lowest valleys.
What lovely scenery—a pleasant backdrop for the beating I’d receive tonight.
Someone snickered, and I looked over to see Seth laughing at me.
“What?” I demanded.
He effortlessly pivoted in his saddle. “I thought the destitute of Ikaria were all farmers. How have you never ridden a horse?”
“I stayed in the city. There was no reason to leave.”
“Just balance, princess, it’s not that hard.”
Twice now, he’d called me that. I hoped he hadn’t decided it was my nickname.
Eleos glanced back from where he rode ahead. “The princess can take however long she needs to learn.”
“She most certainly can.” Seth agreed jovially. “And I can laugh at her, just like I laughed at Percy.”
Twisting to look over my shoulder, I spied an unamused expression etched on Percy’s face. He leaned forward on his stocky mare. “The Merchant Isles don’t have a cavalry, Seth. I was a foot soldier.”
The horse lurched beneath me as she stepped over a crevasse. Panicking, I grabbed the reins and leaned forward, legs squeezing the horse in a death grip. Seth chuckled again.
Galloping hooves thrummed behind us, like heavy drumbeats. I wanted to turn around, but I didn’t want to risk falling. Tilting my head every so slightly, I watched Seraphim ride past on her black steed, turn, and circle around me until she rode step in step.
“Looks like you can ride after all.” She admired, grinning.
“Does it?” I asked.
“We’re not being followed,” Seraphim announced. “Close as I can tell. Maybe they lost our scent.”
“Here’s hoping,” Percy grumbled.
Biting my lip, I recalled what the strange man had called me. ‘Elpis.’
No matter how far I reached into my memories, the word meant nothing. Though I wanted to chalk his actions up to the hubris of a madman, I couldn’t. He’d known I could step into the empty and survive.
Sitting back up, I focused on riding. Everything could come one step at a time, starting with keeping my seat. Chthonic madmen who were also psyches? I’d worry about them when I could ride a horse.
The sun began its descent through the sky, illuminating the mountain pass in orange light. We’d be stopping soon, thank the Maiden.
“Ah!” Seraphim called. “There’s a nice spot to camp.”
She rode to a cliff overlooking a lake and swung out of the saddle. A river cut through the pass, plunging into the waters below. Clopping through the shallow water, my horse stopped at my command and patiently waited for me to dismount.
Oh, gods. This was the hardest part. Psyching myself up, I muttered under my breath, telling myself the task was simple, and I was just overthinking it. Slipping one foot from the stirrups, I dragged it over the saddle, and. . .
Losing my balance, my other foot departed the stirrup, and I crashed to the ground, landing on my ass with a surprised yelp.
Like it was the easiest task in the world, Seth leaped off his horse and offered me a hand. “Color me impressed, princess. I thought you’d need help.” He tilted his head. “Help off the horse, at least.”
Begrudgingly accepting his hand, I brushed my toga off. He clicked his tongue.
“Don’t bother.” He suggested. “I’ll have you rolling in the dirt plenty tonight.” Patting my shoulder, he retrieved a bundle of supplies from his saddlebags and joined Seraphim by the fire pit.
Rubbing my eyes, I imagined what life might look like right now, had I never left home. Market Street would close with the setting sun, and I’d be trudging toward the bar to hand over my day’s earnings to my collector.
Maybe sword lessons weren’t so bad. Anything was preferable to my old life.
“How’d it go?” Eleos asked, holding the reins of his horse.
“Better than I thought,” I admitted, looking up at my stolen steed. “I can’t say I’m a fan of riding, though.”
“Neither am I. Short rides are wonderful, but long ones?” He shook his head. “Camping’s the best part of traveling, anyway. Especially when you have good company.” He smiled at me. “And a bard.”
Chuckling, I touched the flower he’d woven into my hair. Seth had suggested I ask Percy his story, and I’d yet to find the courage. Perhaps I’d finally catch a moment of his time tonight.
Laying a hand on my horse’s neck, I gazed into her intelligent eyes. Horses deserved names, didn’t they?
“Eleos,” I called. “Does your horse have a name?”
He patted the dappled brown mare. “Yes. Artemis.” Stepping back, he studied the other stolen mare, a black and white draught horse. “She’ll need a name, too. Percy will come up with one in no time, I’m sure.”
Seth returned from the fire, carrying a sheath. Drawing the blade, he spun it gracefully before offering me the hilt. “This is a side sword. I think it’ll suit you.”
Taking the blade, I held it up to the fading sunlight and studied it. An intricate sphere of thin, metal circles protectively shielded the hilt of a slender, elegant blade.
“Pretty,” Percy commented, walking by with a bag filled with tonight’s dinner. “He never got me anything.”
“Your father was a vaunted officer, Percy,” Seth called. “You had a spear worth more than a small army.”
“Yes, well, I don’t have it anymore.”
Rolling his eyes, Seth led me to an open stretch of dirt near the fire. “I’m not teaching you how to fell armies, only how to defend yourself. That blade is made to point and fend off attacks while protecting your hand. So all you need to do is parry.”
Eleos sat on a rock nearby, flipping open a journal as he watched us. “Hold it away from you.” He instructed.
Thrusting the blade forward, I glanced between them. “Like this?” When Eleos nodded, I narrowed my eyes. “Wait. I thought Seth was supposed to teach you, too.”
“Psyches can fight.” Eleos deflected.
“How, exactly?”
Eleos moved to respond, but Seth cut him off.
“Don’t worry. The scholar’s next.” Dragging a dagger across his palm, Seth shook his hand, sending droplets flying.
Each speck of blood grew into a crimson dagger.
Shooting forward, the daggers slammed into one another, seamlessly merging into a larger broadsword.
A broadsword that then sang through the air, aiming for my heart. Gasping, I ducked, shielding myself with my arms.
The broadsword effortlessly reached its target, swiveling at the last moment to strike me with the handle rather than the blade. A punch of pain rang through my ribs, and I landed in the dirt on my back.
I squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to breathe. When air flooded back into my lungs, I opened them to see Seth standing over me, twirling a bloody dagger between his fingers.
“The sword is your defense.” He said gently. “Throwing it away rather defeats the point.”
“I can’t help it,” I said, taking his offered hand. “My first instinct is to run.”
“Well, you’re backed into a corner with nowhere to go. So,” He leaned in. “Parry.”
Picking up my sword, I settled back into a defensive stance as Seth stood across from me. Studying him intently, I searched for a crack in his persona.
I couldn’t read him. Sometimes, he was the picture of politeness; other times, he struck me as harsh. One moment, his mouth curled in a snarl; the next, he grinned and winked.
Seth’s blood blade shot through the air again. This time, I held my ground, blade pointed forward, and managed to knock the incoming sword off its course. Reverberations rushed through my blade, and I shook my hand in pain.
“Perfect.” Seth commended. “Just like that.”
“This works against weapons, sure,” I said. “But how am I supposed to defend against chthonics?”
“One thing at a time.” He said, grabbing his scarlet blade from the air before he charged.
An entire man throwing his weight behind the blade made the impact altogether more difficult to parry. I flinched again as Seth reached me, barely managing to scrape his oncoming sword. Losing my footing, I tumbled backwards, desperately trying to keep my grip on the hilt.
We landed on the ground in a tangle of limbs, a bloody blade pressed to my neck while his other hand restrained the wrist holding my sword.
Finding myself at his mercy, fear trickled down my spine, just as it had on our first meeting.
“I thought you were teaching me to parry,” I said, twisting my head away from the blade.
“I am. But,” he glanced over me. “I saw an opportunity. If that nobleman wants you alive, you should learn to escape.”
Before this journey, I hadn’t thought much about strength. My arms could lift little more than small boxes, and physical feats were beyond me; usually, I batted my eyelashes at a strapping lad and got him to do it for me.
Seth wasn’t holding me tightly; I could breathe easily, but my wrist felt like a stone was weighing it down. I couldn’t see anything besides his, admittedly, handsome face.
“Whoa!” Percy’s voice sounded somewhere to my left. “I thought you two were training.”
Heat rushed to my face as I realized our position. Seth crouched over me, face an inch from mine, strands of his hair brushing my cheeks. One of his legs was planted firmly between mine, holding me in place.
Which meant one of my legs was between his. Perfect. Jerking my knee, I tried to ram it into his weak spot.