Chapter 18
SUCKER PUNCH
Word has spread about my decision to stay and my training with Odessa. Clusters of people are gathered along the fence of the training grounds when I arrive this morning. They’ve all come to see how the future queen will measure up.
My palms grow slick at the eyes turning my way, and I clutch my necklace in my hands.
It’s cold to the touch, but the feeling of it brings peace to my nerves.
My feet get tangled beneath me, and I almost fall flat on my face when I spy Lachlan leaning on the fence next to Evander.
His arms are crossed, and he studies me closely as I walk carefully across the grounds.
There’s an overwhelming sadness still rolling off him, and his jaw clenches when I pass without addressing him.
Great.
That’s not who I wanted to see down here. Especially since I’ve never sparred in front of him before. He’s managed to become the captain of the royal guard, and I’m only a novice. The last thing I want to do is embarrass myself.
Metal clashes, startling me out of my thoughts as I take in Julius and Odessa warming up together, their new training leathers repelling the abundance of sunlight around us.
The sight of them is causing whispers and even a few glares from the people gathered.
The color is so unusual compared to the dark brown ones that the rest of us wear. The onyx gives off a sinister vibe.
Usually, gossiping about someone’s clothes is not an activity I condone, but this time, I actually agree with them. They look wrong. It’s not just the color. The weave pattern of the leather itself resembles snakeskin, and the dark red buckles like drops of blood.
They halt their warm-up as I approach.
Odessa gives me a long look, from the top of my head to the boots on my feet. “I want you to spar with Julius for your warm-up, then we’ll begin.”
Her tone brooks no argument, but sparring isn’t a warm-up activity for me. “Usually, I begin with some stretching and jogging to get loose first …” I trail off at her scathing glare.
“I don’t have all day, so you’ll spar now,” she reiterates.
She turns on her heel, walking to the fence with the other spectators.
On my end of the grounds, I spy Artemisia standing with Boudicca.
Her eyes linger on Odessa and then narrow in suspicion.
Boudicca gives me a small smile of encouragement, her crude green eyes radiating warmth, and I nod in return, grateful for her support.
Julius scoffs at the sentiment between us and sneers at me.
My nerves vanish. I cannot wait to remove that look from his smug, stupid face.
I draw my blade and get into a ready position. We’re on the shady side of the training grounds, but Julius’s blade reflects a ray of sunlight right into my eyes, blinding me, and he quickly slashes out.
I manage to dodge at the last second while furiously blinking my eyes to clear the dazzling spots blotting my vision.
Grunts of disapproval ring out at his unsavory tactics, the loudest I recognize coming from Leif.
He’s standing right behind Julius and in my direct line of sight.
I see him cross his arms and spit on the ground in pure disgust.
I do my best to stay focused on Julius and his movements, while also utilizing Mathilda’s instructions and staying alert to everything else happening around us.
When we begin to circle each other, I notice Evander and Lachlan making their way closer to us.
Julius chuckles, and I decide to take an offensive approach. I begin attacking Julius with upward slashes and strikes.
My sword is firm in my grip, but its weight is light, like an extension of my arm.
He blocks each one of my attacks, but my offensive tactic has caught him off guard, and he’s only able to take a defensive approach. Whenever he’s trained me, I’ve always been on the defensive, so he hasn’t had the time to memorize any of my moves.
My footwork is impeccable, thanks to Mathilda and Tane, and my balance never wavers, thanks to Mina.
Overall, my breathing stays relaxed, and my core is strong. I work him into the corner with ease. I’ve been clever at hiding my newfound abilities from him during our mornings, afraid of a moment like this where he would try to embarrass me in front of others.
Cries ring out as spectators clear the fence. I push him into an undesirable position against the railing, and I catch a glimpse of Satiah, her black hair glinting in the sun. An approving smirk graces her mouth.
But I underestimated the lows Julius would stoop to if he became cornered.
With an evil grin, he kicks dirt directly into my eyes. The gritty sand stings and scratches painfully. I scrub my eyes with my free hand and try to force them to remain open.
But his booted foot connects with my stomach. My abs flex too late to absorb the impact, and the force sends me flying through the air.
The ground is unforgiving as my back makes contact, and my breath is ripped from my lungs. My head collides with the ground.
A muted thud rings out at the collision.
Lachlan is immediately at my side. “Lena, are ye ok?”
He pats my body for injuries, and I try to push his hands away. My ability to speak is gone, along with my breathing. But through my watery and spotted vision, his face radiates pure wrath as he glares at Julius.
“What the fuck was that? That’s not how we spar!” He roars with rage, the veins in his neck pulse against his tanned skin.
I shove away from Lachlan. Rolling onto my stomach, I brace myself on my hands and knees. Blessed air fills my lungs, and I groan as I force myself to stand.
Odessa’s voice rings out from her vigil at the fence. “Captain, are you interfering?” Her words sound bitter, and she stares at Lachlan with contempt.
His eyes lower in submission, but then he gathers himself, meeting her stare with his own.
“No, Your Majesty, merely questioning the tactics being used.” He gestures to where I’m still wiping the dirt from my eyes. “This is not how we do things.”
Blinking the dirt completely from my eyes, I can now see that he was positioned in front of me, placing himself squarely in front of Julius.
Odessa scans Julius before turning her gaze back to Lachlan. “You’re dismissed, Captain.”
Lachlan’s jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow with barely controlled rage before his nostrils flare with a sharp inhale.
He turns to me, worry shining in his eyes. But he’ll find no agreement here.
“Follow your orders, Captain,” I hiss.
Lachlan’s shoulders stiffen slightly, and he takes a step but pauses, leaning in close so no one else can hear.
“He fights with the arrogance of someone who’s never seen true battle.
Use his ego against him, and you can beat him.
Ye have natural ability like I’ve never even seen before, Key.
You are better than he is. Believe in yourself,” he whispers.
The use of my nickname and the support he displays dulls some of the anger I feel towards him. When he stalks off to the guard quarters, my eyes trail after him.
Taking a controlled breath, I reposition myself, readying for Julius to take the offensive approach that is common for him. Odessa claps once, signaling for us to begin. Julius attacks.
Big surprise, but this time I’m prepared. I thrust my knee up and into his gut as I feint a dodge around his unguarded attack. He grunts, shock written across his twisted features. I can barely contain my smile at the sound of his pain.
He has no idea what I’m capable of.
Evander nods, his copper hair bobbing with the movement, and pride blazes across his smile. But I quickly bring my attention back to Julius, who is now fuming that I played him. We circle each other. My steps are slow and calculated. But his movements are stilted as he vibrates with fury.
His next attack is sloppy, his rage corroding his movements, and I dodge, bringing my sword down on his. The resounding clash ripples around us. Whispers begin swelling, and there are even a few cheers.
Julius’ scowl deepens. His brow obscures his vision as he strikes out again. He expects it to overpower me, but his feet are not completely underneath him, and I push him back with minimal effort.
He’s too unsteady, and my push sends him careening onto his back. He curses, and a cloud of dust billows around him.
Before he can even push up onto his elbows, I level my sword at his throat.
My victory comes as a surprise to us all. Silence settles around us, and the only sound is the heaving of his breath through his bared teeth.
But the silence ruptures as cheers ensue.
Evander claps, Boudicca nods, and Artemisia howls with laughter.
Even Joan, in men’s training leathers over her usual black tunic, is giving an approving nod next to Satiah, whose smile is broad as she claps enthusiastically.
I withdraw my sword, reaching out a hand to help Julius to his feet.
His face is twisted with disgust, and he glares at me from his sprawled position on the ground before roughly grasping my hand.
I tug hard to heave him up, but he pulls violently against me. The action jerks me forward and right within reach of the quick jab he flings at my face. My balance is off, and my hand is held firmly in his grasp, leaving me with no way or time to block.
His fist connects.
The crack of my bone echoes through the training ground. Blood sprays, and my eyes immediately begin to flood, tears flowing down my face. I’m so stunned it takes a moment for the pain to register. The tears and dirt from his fist begin mixing with the blood pouring from my nose.
The cheering cuts off, and yelling begins.
Evander and several other warriors are upon me in an instant, their bodies creating a defensive wall. Other warriors surge around Julius. He tries to fight off their hold.
Spit flies from his mouth, and his face turns a blotchy shade of violet as he screams, “You fucking bitch!”
They drag him from the training ground. Odessa follows silently behind them, not once even glancing in my direction.
Evander cups my face between his hands and checks me over. “Someone, go get me the healing tonic!”
Footsteps pound against dirt as someone races to follow his orders.
The sound of fabric being torn slices through the pain, and Joan hands Evander a piece of fabric torn from her own tunic. He uses it to staunch the flow of blood streaming from my nose. I try to look anywhere but at the puddle of blood at my feet.
The warriors surrounding us are all showing signs of rage or shock at the shameless attack. Artemisia spews something in Greek, and Boudicca’s green eyes are ablaze with fury as she assesses my nose from Evander’s other side.
“Are you okay?” Worry creases Evander’s brow as he holds the fabric scrap to my still-gushing nose.
“Am I gonna be ugly now?” I whine.
Everyone freezes before laughter rings out. Even Joan’s face breaks into a small smile. “You took down the queen’s mate, took a punch to the face, and you’re worried if you’re going to be ugly?” he mutters, shaking his head as he tries to hold back his laughter.
I smile at him, and warm blood trickles over my lips.
Satiah returns with the tonic and throws it at Evander.
She turns towards me and bows gracefully.
“It was an honor to watch you, Lena.” With her liquid black hair and fiery expression, she looks every bit like a bronze statue of a long-ago queen.
Her eyes pierce me. “You will be a formidable queen.”
The ability to speak leaves me at her declaration, and I can only manage a dip of my chin as she turns to leave. The bleeding is a trickle now, and I gulp down the vial of healing tonic Evander hands me. The coppery tang of blood mixes with the honey flavor. I continue to breathe through my mouth.
As my bone starts to stitch together, the bleeding ceases. Evander removes the soaked fabric scrap, and the warriors depart. Rough hands pat me in congratulations on my shoulders or back as they leave.
The sentiment is not lost on me, and my eyes water for a completely different reason.
Evander and I are the only ones left on the training ground before long.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again.
He eyes me speculatively, and I get the feeling that many emotions flit across my face.
“Yeah, just shocked, I guess. That wasn’t normal, was it?” I work through the last few moments in my head. The rage on Julius’ face as he was pulled away is etched into my mind.
“No, it definitely wasn’t. I don’t think you should go back to the Hall for a while. Let him calm down,” he replies.
I stare down at my blood-splattered leathers and the small puddle on the ground as it slowly absorbs into the dirt to create a burgundy mud.
“I don’t really have anywhere else to go,” I mumble.
He looks at me with pity before slinging an arm over my shoulder. “Let’s go for a ride, then.”
Evander leads me down the path between the training grounds and the armory.
“I’ve never been on this side of the grounds before,” I say to him as we pass by the wood building full of weapons and training gear.
The path is more worn here, and the cobblestones have crumbled away into dust in some areas.
“I can’t imagine you would need to. The only things down here are the stables and the guard’s quarters.
” He nods at the long, two-story building peeking out from the trees in front of us.
“That’s the guard’s quarters. See that green door on the bottom right?
” I nod in confirmation. “That’s my room, and the blue door above it on the second floor—that’s Lachlan’s. ”
Heat crawls up my neck.
But he continues. “And on the other side, right there,” he points to a wooden stable, “is where we keep all the guards’ horses.”
Excitement has me bouncing with each step. I haven’t even thought about riding since I was back home with Sleipnir. I hope Torin is continuing to keep him in shape. Thoughts of home quell my excitement, and guilt takes its place. I’m leaving all of that behind.
Evander hesitantly asks, “You know how to ride, right?”
I nod excitedly, and a bright smile spreads across his face. “Alright, good. We’ll take a trail up through the mountains. You haven’t seen any of the mountain farms yet.”