Chapter 15 Hone Your Blade
~ brEN ~
Half an hour later, stomach finally full, I sat at the table with Voski, Gil, and a couple Shadowfang, staring at my empty plate and trying to get motivated to move, while they laughed about something stupid.
I needed to get to my feet, get to the stable and harness Akhane again.
I’d left her to rest while I went to class, but we were supposed to bring our dragons to this session, though I couldn’t figure out why, since we’d be inside the hall.
Their heads didn’t even fit in the windows. But orders were orders.
I took one more minute to look at my brothers, Voski and Gil in particular. Gil had a mischievous grin on his face as he leaned over to steal something from one of the other men’s plates.
Voski sat back and observed more than spoke. But his eyes were sharp.
Neither of them looked tired. Neither of them seemed worried about the training still to come.
They’d been doing this work for years, so I supposed they were both used to it by now.
But still… I was exhausted. My body felt a little shaky with weariness, though that had improved since I’d eaten.
I hadn’t seen Donavyn since I’d gotten out of bed in the early hours this morning, and I wouldn’t be back in the apartment until it was already late.
My body dragged as I pushed out my chair, excused myself and weaved between the tables in the dining hall towards the exit nearest the stable building.
When I was halfway through the hall, it occurred to me that I wasn’t drawing the stares I used to.
Since I’d been pinned, I’d enjoyed a level of acceptance that hadn’t existed before.
I still caught some of the Furyknights staring at times, and my brothers still reported whispered questions from men I hadn’t worked with.
But overall, everyone seemed to have at least accepted that they’d see me in the ranks.
Yet, as I pushed out of the heavy door and trotted wearily down the path towards the stables, I was nervous.
Ever since the sick dragon appeared, everyone was on edge and moving faster, even in their normal duties.
Like his appearance heralded more bad news.
Which was probably true, I supposed. But I couldn’t help noticing that the Furyknights never seemed to tire.
Was it only me whose limbs felt heavy, and who ached for her bed?
Was this a normal pace?
I prayed my body would adjust and I’d keep up. Because I grew up on a farm and was accustomed to hard work. But this pushed me to my limits.
Then I remembered Donavyn’s gaze, intent and certain, his resolute tone telling me I was meant to be here, and Akhane’s assurance reminding me I had a purpose. I pushed my shoulders back.
This training session would drag. But then I could be with Donavyn again and sleep. Even if it was only for a few hours…
I swore as, yet again, my attempt to be sneaky and bring a knee up on my brother unexpectedly, was blocked with an arm that felt as hard as a tree-branch. Something in my knee moved in a direction it wasn’t supposed to, and instead of dropping him to the mat, I was the one who fell.
“Keep moving, Sister!” Gil called from across the floor as I oofed to the boards. Again. “If you can’t take him down, get the fuck out of there.”
With a hurried nod, I rolled and pushed to my feet, sprinting as fast as I could with a noticeable limp, pushing for the door, and outside to where the dragons milled on the grass.
Akhane whistled when she saw me emerge from the building again.
With a huff, I flattened my hands to blades and ran, trying to ignore the pain in my knee.
We were practicing deflection and escape. Akhane was instructed to lumber ahead, leaving me to run and grasp the mounting strap, haul myself up onto her shoulder as she broke into a run, with the goal to get myself to her back and strapped in before she launched.
I hadn’t landed a blow on a brother yet, but flee and launch?
Turned out, I was pretty good at that. At least, I’d managed it every other time.
But I hadn’t hurt my knee before. And now, as I caught the lashing mounting strap and swung up to Akhane’s side, instead of bracing against her upper leg and riding out her strides while I hauled myself up to her withers, my knee wobbled, then gave.
With a screech of frustration, my feet went out from under me. I lost my grip on the mounting strap and tumbled to the ground—giving the sore knee another jolt.
Akhane called, pulling up from her gallop and trotting back to where I sprawled in the grass on my back, cursing at the sky.
I was furious with myself—and a little alarmed by the singing pain in my knee. To give it a moment, I threw a fist into the grass and swore again.
Akhane’s sweet face appeared over me a moment later, blocking my view of stars beginning to peer out of the twilight overhead.
I grabbed her snout, giggling when she nudged my stomach and rumbled for me to get up. But deep down, I wanted to weep with weariness and frustration.
‘Get up, Bren. We’ll get it next time,’ she sent kindly.
‘I know. I’m just—’
“Bren. Don’t move. I want to check that knee.
” Terra appeared out of nowhere. She and another medic had been asked to attend, because this flying mount wasn’t only difficult for me.
In fact, until this round, I’d thought maybe my lighter bodyweight gave me an advantage.
The men were stronger than me, and still able to mount faster.
But I’d seen more than one lose their grip on the strap when they took that first, flying grasp.
And one had even been retired for the night when his dragon accidentally stumbled over him when he fell.
Grateful for a reason to just lay there, I flapped a hand at Terra as she dropped her bag to my side and knelt at my leg.
“This is ridiculous,” Terra muttered as she palpated my knee. At first, I hoped it wasn’t a real injury—until she put pressure on the inside of my kneecap, and it felt like she was trying to pry it off.
“Oh, shit!” I cursed, jumping like a startled rabbit, and pushing up to sit. “Don’t do that again.”
Terra frowned, but didn’t let go of my leg, supporting the back of my knee as she bent it up and extended it twice, then put her thumbs on the kneecap again.
“This will hurt,” she said grimly. “But not for long—”
I squealed with pain, clapping my hands over my mouth as she did something to manipulate my knee, but then immediately pulled a long bandage from her bag and began strapping it.
“It was slightly out of alignment,” she said darkly, binding my knee over my leathers, and bending it, moving it between wraps.
“It will heal quickly—especially with Akhane’s bond.
But no more running mounts tonight. You need to take some care with it for a couple of days to make sure it heals completely before it gets injured again. ”
“I can’t,” I said through my teeth, my knee thrumming with pain, though it felt more comfortable when she moved it now.
“You can, and you will.”
“No, I mean it. I have training and—”
Akhane nudged my side, chiding me to listen. But unfortunately, she bumped the rib on my side that I’d bruised the night before, thanks to my sparring partner’s elbow.
I flinched, and cried, clapping my arm to my side to protect the rib. Akhane jerked her head back at the same time Terra’s head snapped up.
Her lips thinned as she tied off the bandage on my knee, then moved up my body and reached for my jacket buttons. “Let me see that rib,” she muttered.
“No, I—it’s just a bruise,” I said quickly, widening my eyes at her. I wasn’t taking my shirt off here, where my brothers and their dragons were all watching!
But Terra shook her head. “Hold your jacket for modesty, but unbutton it so I can lift the side. We don’t play with ribs, Bren. They can cause all kinds of issues if they’re cracked or broken.”
I glared, but she just waited patiently as I unbuttoned my jacket, then the shirt under it, then held both tightly over my breasts, while she lifted the sides, then erupted in colorful curses.
Several of the Shadowfang brothers were landing their flying mounts, or trotted toward us from the hall.
Voski was the first to reach us. I glared at him, warning him with my eyes not to say anything to embarrass me as he stood, hands on his hips and spoke to Terra.
“How bad is it?”
“She’s bruised and injured and if you keep putting her through this, it won’t end well,” Terra said, shaking her head as she reached into her bag and pulled out a small, sharp-smelling pot, which she opened, then scooped her fingers into, leaning into my side as she rubbed the awful concoction onto my rib.
I winced at the pressure, but within seconds, the skin felt cool and the pain under it began to ease.
“What was that?” I asked quickly.
“More than you should need for training,” Terra said. “But you’re coming back to me tomorrow for some more. I don’t like the look of that bruising.”
It was embarrassing, sitting there like a child, one bandage on my knee, a medic hunched over me, while I held my jacket closed over my breasts so they wouldn’t be bared. But Voski didn’t stare, and the others were too far away to see anything. It just felt… vulnerable.
Thankfully, the session was ending. Voski told the others to take their dragons back to the stable, and as the other officers ambled out of the hall to see what had kept everyone, they agreed that it was time to call it a night.
I slumped with relief, but frustration rose in my chest.
The only upside to Terra’s ministrations was that most of the men had left to put their dragons to bed before she pushed to her feet and offered me a hand to rise.
I clenched my teeth and took her hand with my arm on the good side, thankful that the knee already hurt less, and the bandage offered some support that made it easier to get to my feet.
“You need rest, Bren,” Terra said firmly.
I nodded, but inwardly shrugged. There wasn’t time. I thanked her for her help, then slapped Akane’s leg and started towards the stable building, doing my best to walk without a limp.
To my surprise, rather than returning to the other officers in the hall, Voski fell in step with me, his dragon, Kham, striding over to Akhane’s other side and walking with her.
“Tell me where it fell apart,” he said quietly as we walked through the night.
“It would be easier to tell you where it didn’t,” I muttered.
“Bren, we told you, this kind of training is designed to push you beyond what you can do. Intentionally. We all fail at it.”
I grimaced. “I couldn’t even land a blow, Voski. I think at some point, we have to be realistic. I can’t ever see myself choosing to fight a man hand-to-hand unless it’s absolutely the last resort. And even then, I’m looking for a weapon—or a way to flee.”
“But that’s kind of the point,” Voski pointed out. “We train for the last resort, because if you aren’t prepared for that, you’re not prepared for the rest, either.”
“But—”
“Bren.” His voice was quiet but firm, and he looked down at me from the side of his eye.
“This job… there’s no breaks. No let up.
This is what we do—the danger, the skill, the commitment.
Our job saves lives. But it can lose them, too.
Just this week, you saw a dragon return, almost dead, its rider left dead in the field. ”
I opened my mouth to correct him—then swiftly shut it. He didn’t know. None of them knew why that rider was dead.
“The problem I see,” I said as respectfully as I could, “is that if this is how I’m expected to handle danger, I’ll be the danger. To everyone else. I can’t take a man down. Not like this. Not face to face.”
Voski’s face was grim. “We all handle things differently, and we’ll meet different challenges.
Will you as a woman handle those obstacles differently than us?
Yes, probably. But most men aren’t as strong or skilled as Furyknights, Bren.
You’ll be surprised what you can achieve when you’re facing a drunk soldier, or a prancing noble.
Don’t forget that: You’re facing the hardest challenges here.
Not the easiest. What we’re trying to do is hand you the weapons that will help you when we aren’t there.
You get to choose when and how you wield them. ”
I shook my head and walked on, trying to figure out how to express what I was feeling.
“Bren?”
“I know what you’re saying. But I feel like I’m being handed the wrong weapons. And I’m afraid that when the time comes, I won’t have the ones I need,” I said quietly.
Voski’s lips twisted. “I pray that’s just a feeling,” he said. “Go get some rest. There are new lessons tomorrow.”
I huffed, but nodded, then moved ahead with Akhane to the stable, praying he was right, that I’d find these skills more useful in the field than I expected. Because right now, I feared I would fly off with Donavyn and turn out to be little more than a burden.
I was sick of being the weight others had to drag.
I had to figure out what kind of weapon I was supposed to be, so I could land my own blows and get this shit done. After all, if they kept putting axes in my hand when what I really needed was a blade, who was that helping?