Elf Sight (4 page)

The next day, instead of relaxing by the fire where the soldiers played games of chance after a long day in the saddle, Irlan and Shadow were shown the basics of sword fighting by Morell. He was a man of few words, broad shouldered and used his sword like he was in a dance.

Shadow watched the move Morell made and tried to mimic it. The sword was heavy and after half an hour of imperfect copying her arms were beginning to tremble. Someone kicked at the inside of her right foot and she spun to see Carson behind her.

“Widen your stance. You’ll lose your balance and fall on your face.”

“The weight of the sword will probably do that to me anyway,” Shadow muttered, then held her breath as she recalled she wasn’t meant to speak.

Carson laughed softly. “Maybe we should give you a dagger instead.”

Or shoot me with a bow and put me out of my misery. She barely managed to keep the words to herself. She lowered her sword, resting the point in the ground. “This is ridiculous. I can’t do it.”

“You need to practice. Build up some muscle, kid.” Carson took the sword from her and stepped back. He checked the balance and then waved Morell forward, the sword held up.

Shadow watched the two men attack each other. Their moves were lightning fast, the sound of their blades ringing in the clearing. She watched in fascination as they moved, an intricate dance. She had thought Morell surprisingly graceful. Beside Carson, he looked clumsy. She was mesmerised by his movements, her breath catching several times when it looked like Morell might get past his defences. Then Morell’s sword lay in the dirt and behind her she heard men call out to Carson and coins change hands.

Carson clapped a hand on Morell’s shoulder and turned towards Shadow. She watched him walk towards her, glad of her hat. She took the sword he held out and nearly dropped it.

“It might be best to build up your arm muscles before we try and teach you how to use this. How old are you, kid?”

Shadow’s heart stopped momentarily. How old? She wouldn’t have a clue what age to tell him. She certainly couldn’t say seventeen. “How do you build up arm muscles?”

Carson grinned and reached out to rest his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll show you tomorrow. Better get some sleep, kid. We don’t want you falling off your horse because you’re too tired to stay awake tomorrow.”

Shadow watched as he strode to the campfire. Just what she needed to hear. More work. First they expected her to collect firewood each day, then learn to use a sword and now Carson wanted her to build up her arm muscles. She was beginning to wish she’d lifted the kegs of ale at the tavern instead of rolling them, but she’d never imagined she’d end up in the army. She shot a daggered look towards her brother, even though she knew he couldn’t see it in the flickering torchlight with her hat shading her eyes.

“Shadow! Get that sword out of the dirt. Hold it up now,” Morell snapped.

Shadow lifted the blade and widened her stance as she gritted her teeth. Every muscle in her arm protested, but she wasn’t about to argue. Carson might have told her it was time for bed, but Morell obviously had other plans.

By the time she was finally allowed to quit for the night, Shadow could barely put one foot in front of the other. She felt hot, sweaty and her arms ached worse than her legs had the first day of riding. Instead of heading to her bedroll, she decided a quick wash in the stream near the campsite might help. About to step out of the tree line, she stopped when she saw someone already crouched at the stream.

His head came up and he reached for the dagger on the ground beside him, spinning to face the trees. Carson stood shirtless, water droplets glinting in the moonlight. “Step out of the trees.”

Shadow forced herself forward and watched as Carson relaxed and tucked his dagger into his boot. He beckoned her forward and she hesitantly walked across the rock strewn ground to stop in front of him. She flinched as his hand came up.

Carson knocked her hat to the ground. “The sun’s down, kid.”

“Shadow.”

“Didn’t I send you to bed already? Kid.”

Shadow stared at Carson’s boots, wishing she could pick up her hat and put it on. She felt exposed. What did he see when he looked at her? She glanced up quickly, his face patches of light and dark, then dropped her eyes again.

“Well?”

Head still bowed she said softly, “We practised some more.”

“I didn’t think you were that determined to learn how to use a sword.”

She wasn’t, but Morell had been. Why couldn’t Carson leave her be? What did he want? Her arms ached, her back ached, even her legs ached. She wanted to go to bed.

“Kid.” The silence stretched out. “Look at me when I speak to you.”

Shadow slowly raised her eyes. She got as far as his chest, the water droplets nearly gone. She swallowed hard as the silence stretched out again. Her gaze reached his chin, then his lips. There was no smile, but they also weren’t pressed together in a tight line like they were when he was angry. Her gaze finally met his eyes.

Carson reached out and pressed his hand against her shoulder. “Meet a man’s eyes when you talk to him, and straighten up. We’ll make a man of you yet.”

Shadow’s mouth went dry and all she could do was nod.

Carson stared at her a moment longer. “How old are you?”

Her mind went blank. She should have figured this out. She tried to remember how old Irlan had been when he’d been her height, but she couldn’t think.

“Well?”

“I… I was wondering when you wanted to show me how to build up arm muscles tomorrow.”

“Early.” Carson grinned. “The sooner we start, the better.”

“I guess.”

Carson chuckled. “Don’t be so worried, kid. You’ll thank me for it one day. Now get to bed. You’ve got an early start tomorrow.” He turned, gathered his shirt and headed back to the camp.

Shadow stood there a moment longer, her eyes closing as she tried to slow her heart rate. With shaking hands she crouched at the water’s edge and quickly washed her face and arms. Once her hat was back on, she felt less exposed. She was going to kill her brother for agreeing to stay with the army to the end. It might be fun for him, but she was having a miserable time. Every second of the day she kept expecting someone to figure out she was female, and she dreaded to think what they’d do. Especially the General. She didn’t think he’d be impressed with being lied to.

She forced herself to her feet and hurried back to the camp. Her gaze scanned the area and her eyes stopped on her brother who was seated near the campfire. He laughed with the other four men there as he rolled dice onto the dirt. Anger filled Shadow. It was her elf sight that had gotten them away from the tavern. And yet, as always, she was the one left in the shadows, looking on.

Without thinking, head high, she strode across the camp to her bedroll and kicked off her boots. Until now, she’d moved through the camp like a ghost, trying to avoid attention. She sat on her bedroll and her eyes were caught by Carson, his back to the fire as he watched her. The anger evaporated and she cursed her momentary forgetfulness. Her shoulders slouched and she ducked her head, her gaze cut off by the brim of her hat. When she glanced up again, he was gone. With a sigh of relief, Shadow placed her hat beside her as she snuggled into her bedding, hidden away from prying eyes.

A boot nudged Shadow the next morning and she peeked above her bedding to see Carson standing over her in the pre-dawn light.

“Come.” His word was soft but the order was clear. He strode away, obviously expecting her to follow.

Shadow struggled out of her bedroll, automatically pulling on her hat. She watched to see where Carson went as she shook out her boots and slid them onto her feet. She hurried after Carson as he disappeared into the trees. He stopped in a small clearing of dew-dampened grass and she came to a halt in front of him, staring at the ground while she waited. A glance upwards showed Carson stood there, hands behind his back, feet spread like he had all the time in the world.

What did he want? Was he waiting for her to say something? Do something? She glanced up again and saw he still waited. She wanted to demand what his problem was. Why didn’t he say something?

He reached out and tapped underneath the brim so her hat fell to the ground. Shadow fought the urge to bend down and pick it up. Instead she stared at where it lay on the grass. Her eyes flew up to meet his when he pressed against her shoulder and she recalled his words of last night. She held his gaze, expecting him to denounce her as the early morning light increased. Her stance straightened and she stared defiantly at him. She was tempted to tell him the truth, just to get it over and done with. The suspense was killing her.

Carson smiled. “Much better.” He started to unbutton his shirt.

Shadow couldn’t resist a glance at his chest, the broad expanse rippling with muscles as he moved. He hung it on a branch and she met his eyes again.

He gestured to the ground. “Lie face down.” Carson dropped to the ground to show her what he wanted, his palms pressed against the ground. “I want you to do push ups every morning.” His arms tensed and he pushed his body off the ground, only the toes of his boots and his hands in contact with the grass.

Shadow stared at him from where she lay prone on the damp grass. He expected her to be able to do that? She watched as he lowered himself and pushed away from the ground again. Her eyes were drawn to the muscles in his arms. She had seen plenty of men without shirts. Farmers. But this was different. Carson had no excess fat, especially around the middle from too much ale, and here and there were faint scars.

“I’m not doing this for the entertainment value, kid. And I’d be careful how you stare at a man. Some of them like pretty boys like you.”

Her eyes flew to his face and saw the amusement there. “Your scars.”

He pushed back to sit on his legs, a quick shrug. “Occupational hazard. Healers aren’t always available when you’re in the field.” He reached out and took her hands, placing them the correct distance from her body and pressed the palms against the grass. “Your turn.”

Shadow tried, she really did. And she wasn’t without muscles, not completely. But she was unable to do the effortless push ups Carson had done. She glared at him when he chuckled and tried again. She managed to push her torso off the ground and then her legs. Another attempt was just as wobbly and her arms protested as she forced them to obey.

Carson shook his head as he rose smoothly to his feet. “Looks like you’re going to be at this a while, kid.” He walked over to his shirt and used it to wipe the dew and grass off his chest and arms.

Shadow watched him, her torso off the ground, her legs still against the damp grass. “I can’t do this.”

He walked towards her, pulling his shirt on, and crouched in front of her. “You will. Every morning. Twenty. Don’t return to camp until you’re done.” He rose to his feet and strode away.

Shadow glared at his back and wished she was strong enough to use a sword. He’d be the first one she attacked with it, followed by her brother. Muttering under her breath about overbearing captains and idiotic brothers she completed her twenty push ups. Wobbly, uncoordinated and nothing like the smooth ones Carson had done. But they were a start. She rolled onto her back, her arms aching and trembling. Six weeks to the pass and who knew how much longer after that. She wasn’t going to survive. She dropped an arm over her eyes. If she was lucky, she might survive another day.

A shadow fell over her and she moved her arm slightly so she could peer up at whoever disturbed her well earned break. Carson stood there, his sword in his hand and pointed at her. She stared at him. Had he found out? Was this what lying to a captain got you?

Carson sheathed his sword and held out his hand. When Shadow hesitantly took it, he pulled her to her feet. “Anyone could have come along. We aren’t the only ones to travel these roads. Stay alert or you could have a dagger at your throat and your blood spilled on the grass.” He let her go and stepped back. “Do I need to stay and supervise you or did you actually do your push ups?”

She could only nod, her attention caught by his searching brown eyes.

“Come. Have breakfast before we saddle up.” He strode back to camp.

Shadow stared after him. He was far more complicated then the men she knew back home. Farmers, craftsmen and merchants hadn’t prepared her for life in the army. She picked up her hat, dusted it against her pants and pressed it down firmly. A quick brush at the dirt and grass on her shirt and she returned to camp.

“Where were you?” Irlan stood over her as she rolled up her bedding.

She ignored him. This was his fault anyway.

“Shadow!”

His voice was quiet but she could hear the anger in it. Good, let him feel how she felt. This was meant to be better than what they’d left behind. She didn’t see much difference. Orders were thrown at them and they had no choice other than to obey, regardless of if they wanted to.

“Quit ignoring me, Shadow.”

Rising to her feet she gave her brother a daggered look then took her bowl over to be filled.

After a week of trying to strengthen her arms and learn to wield a sword, Shadow could have quite happily pushed the sword between Carson’s ribs, and Morell’s too. She wasn’t sure which one she’d kill first. Maybe her brother. Yes, he was the one who’d started it all.

She swung at Morell and landed in the dirt as he swept her foot out from under her. Her sword went in one direction, her hat the other.

Morell looked down at her with his usual expression of disgust, an expression he seemed to keep solely for her. He turned his gaze to a point behind Shadow. “I’m wasting my time, Captain. Maybe you should give him an eating knife and be done with it. Or better yet, a length of rope and tell him to go hang himself. It’d be less painful to die that way than being carved up on some battlefield.”

Shadow glanced behind her to where Carson stood. She scrambled across the ground to grab her hat. Carson beat her to it, his foot on the brim. She looked up at him, slowly rising to her feet.

“Leave the hat off. Seeing what’s coming at you might help.” He turned to Morell. “Continue with Irlan.” His gaze returned to Shadow. “Come.” He strode away.

Shadow glared at his back, reached down to pick up her hat and jammed it on her head as she followed him. He stopped at the campfire and talked momentarily to Wardell. Taking the knife Wardell handed him, he continued to stride to the edges of the camp, grabbed one of the torches out of the ground and disappeared amongst the trees.

Shadow found him in a clearing that was longer than it was wide, the torch planted in the ground to cast flickering light. She flinched as Carson strode towards her and knocked her hat to the ground.

“If I didn’t know better I’d think you slept with that damn thing on.”

Shadow stared at the knife Carson held out to her hilt first. She reluctantly took it, Morell’s words ringing in her mind. It might not be an eating knife, but it certainly wasn’t a sword.

Carson made a noise of impatience and grabbed her hand. “It’d help if you held it properly. I thought every boy knew how to hold a knife. I don’t think you’re even interested in trying. Irlan won’t always be there to look out for you. Didn’t you have a wooden sword, kid?”

Shadow started to shake her head, but recalled she was meant to be a boy. Irlan, like many other boys they knew, had owned a wooden sword as a child. She nodded instead.

“And fights? Didn’t you get into fist fights?”

She shook her head. That wasn’t something she could fake.

Carson sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Your brother hasn’t done you any favours always standing up for you. A few fights when you were younger might have taught you how to avoid landing in the dirt so often.”

She kept quiet, her eyes back on the ground. When Carson touched her chin and tilted her head up, her startled gaze met his.

“Stop staring at the ground like you expect someone to beat you. You’re asking to be walked all over doing that. Show some confidence, kid.” He kicked at the inside of her boot. “Widen your stance. Hold your knife like you mean business and come at me.”

“I might hurt you.”

Carson laughed. “Then I deserve it. Come. Make a move.”

Shadow barely moved towards Carson before she ended in the dirt, a rock pressing into her hip as she stared up at him.

He held his hand out and pulled her to her feet. “Again.”

More warily, Shadow attacked. It made no difference. Nor did the other numerous times. Again and again she landed in the dirt. She ignored the hand Carson held out to her and scrambled to her feet. “What am I doing wrong?” Anger and frustration filled her voice in equal measures.

Carson nodded and a smile slowly formed. “Finally.”

She listened as Carson explained, watched as he demonstrated. She still landed in the dirt, but now she understood why. Four more times and the fifth, she stumbled, but spun and remained on her feet. Elation filled her as a grin formed. She was still standing.

“Not bad, but don’t get too complacent. And don’t stop.”

Her grin vanished as she landed in the dirt again. She looked up when Carson threw a knife sheath at her.

“Put it in your boot and try with your fists. You’re going to slit your throat with the way you fall.”

She sheathed the knife and slid it into her boot. Now he told her. So good of him to finally decide to care. Pushing herself to her feet she dusted herself off again and reluctantly glanced at her hat.

“Fists up and try and hit me. Come on kid. I want to get some sleep tonight.”

Shadow raised her fists like Carson did. She frowned. It didn’t seem quite right. She guessed Carson didn’t think so either because he reached out and altered the way she held her hands. He kicked at the inside of her boot again and she widened her stance. There were too many things to remember.

“Are you waiting for winter?”

She doubted he’d let her. With a deep breath, she swung. Carson moved quick and his foot connected with her leg as he tried to hook it out from under her. She threw her balance to the other leg and spun so she could see where Carson was. She was too slow. Her body met the dirt and she stared upwards. Just once she’d like to see him hit the ground. She knew where every rock was, and she was sure she’d have the bruises tomorrow to prove it.

Carson stared at her then held out his hand. “We’ll call it a night. Get some sleep, kid. You’re going to be feeling this tomorrow.”

Shadow let go of his hand the moment she was on her feet. “Good of you to tell me. Like I couldn’t figure that out by myself.” She wanted to clap her hand over her mouth the moment she saw the look of surprise on Carson’s face.

He grinned. “Looks like you need a steady diet of dirt, kid. Makes you actually speak.” He strode towards the camp, grabbing the torch on the way.

Shadow grabbed her hat and hurried after him, not wanting to be left alone in the dark. It had been pointed out to her very efficiently that she wasn’t capable of taking care of herself.