The Lord Son's Travels (11 page)

Allè-dôn
was one of the oldest of the kingdoms of the Eastlands.
 
Its beginning was shrouded in mystery,
but a few tokens remain of those times.
 
The first citizens of the land had been befriended by residents of old,
fighting along with these older kind against the evil that had threatened
them.
 
The people of Allè-dôn were
given gifts by these Old Ones in thanks for their efforts in the war.
 
One gift was the Neda Alia, or four
blades.

There
were four swords, each with its own brilliant rare gem set in its crosspiece.
 
The four blades had protected Allè-dôn
for the last five hundred years.
 
Legends told that any army containing all four blades could not lose a
war. They had several
special properties which
elevated them far above all other blades ever forged.
 
They were never dulled and never dirtied by their use, and
could not be broken nor damaged.
 
Most unusual was their sheathing.
 
These blades simply disappeared when not needed by their master.
 
No matter where their master was, at
his call the sword would come to his hand, and return again to its otherworldly
scabbard when dismissed by its master.
 
Each sword could be held by only its true master.
 
When its master was killed, the sword
would seek for itself its next master, the swordsman one most appropriate to
join Neda Alia. Masters of these swords were heroes of Allè-dôn; he and his
family allowed to wear the color of his sword's stone in public.
 

All the
swords except Arèal wandered freely among the best warrior-citizens of
Allè-dôn.
 
Arèal, the ruby blade,
instead was limited to the best fighter in the royal family.
 
Adrien had inherited Arèal from his
uncle at the completion of his military training.
 
Its ceremonial red velvet scabbard was hidden in the depths
of the saddlebags, a certain clue to its bearer's true identity.
 
Brendan did not mention the royal link
of Arèal to Elenna.
 
He knew that
her actions in battle had impressed their leader, but he doubted Adrien would
be happy for her to have that much knowledge at this time.
 
He supposed that Elenna had already brought
enough surprises that he should not be shocked that she knew how to fight.
 
But he was.
 

"So
I guess he is quite the warrior, then," Elenna commented when he was
finished.

Brendan
grinned.
 
"The best in the
land, I'm told.
 
What about
you?"

Elenna
had been leaning back against an old stump next to her companion.
 
Now she flinched a bit in surprise,
then drew closer to her companion.
 
"What about me?"

Brendan
leaned forward too.
 
"I saw
you fight, Elenna.
 
No woman I
know, or for that matter, very few men could move like that.
 
Is that common in your land?"

Elenna
exhaled loudly.
 
"No,"
she admitted, flopping back into her seat.
 
She glanced up at the lazy white clouds passing by overhead.
 
"My father is a master of several
martial arts.
 
Ways of fighting,"
she expounded.
 
“He’s been teaching
me moves since I was a kid.”

Brendan
was fascinated, as if she was a strange spider he had found clinging to his
cloak.
 
Very interesting, but he
couldn’t help wondering if this was someone with whom he should be
associating.
 
He could only imagine
how his mother would react to someone like Elenna.
 
“Are all of the ladies in your land like you?” he inquired.
 

Elenna
laughed briefly.
 
“No, not really.
 
I don’t know.
 
I don’t think of myself as very unusual.
 
I guess I’m pretty strange here.”
 
His expression didn’t deny this.
 
She sighed.
 
"I'm going to take a walk."
 
She set off in the direction of the
river.

"Not
far, Elenna!" he called after her.
 
"There may be more brigands about!"

"I
can handle them," she called back and disappeared.

"I
bet you can," Brendan muttered aloud.

Chapter 11

Brendan
woke Adrien at the noon sun for his turn on guard, but he wasn't able to get
any rest yet.
 
As Adrien washed his
face and beat the dust from the night's journey from his cloak, Brendan shared
his observations on the fighting skills of their female companion.
 
Adrien listened thoughtfully.
 
When Brendan had finished his
exclamations, Adrien glanced around but didn't see the woman in question.

"You
let her leave the camp?" he declared incredulously at Brendan's
explanation.
 
He moved to the edge
of their settlement, seeking signs of her in the surrounding wilderness.

"Woman!"
he called out, then waited in silence for a response.

"I
have a name, you know," Elenna shouted back, climbing over the fallen
trunk she had been resting against.
 
She returned to the camp, hands on hips.
 
"What?"

Adrien
motioned her to a small natural clearing located a few yards away to her right.
 
She followed him, curious about his
intentions.
 
So did Brendan.
 
Adrien grasped her shoulder and
positioned her an arm's length in front of him.

"Pretend
I am about to attack you,” he ordered.
 
"Defend yourself."

Elenna
rolled her eyes.
 
"What is
this?" she asked, turning to Brendan.
 
He shrugged, distracting her the moment Adrien reached for
her.
 
Without a thought she clasped
his right arm above the elbow and spun, sending him face-first to the
ground.
 
Brendan laughed
delightedly as Adrien spat out a mouthful of dirt and leaves.
 
Then he rose up and faced her again.

"Not
terrible," he said, wiping his mouth.
 
"You are..." he didn't get to finish his
words.
 
Elenna stuck her right leg
behind his and pushed him off balance.
 
He landed on his back as she crouched down next to him.

“Gotcha!”
she smirked.
 
He twisted around to
grab her tightly by the waist.
 
She
struggled against him, cursing, as he stood again with the much smaller woman
firmly in his clasp.
 
She howled in
anger as he spun her feet over head, letting her dangle down with her braid
dragging in the dirt.

Brendan
ordered, "Gently, Adrien!" in alarm.
 
Adrien lowered Elenna to the ground, setting her down
carefully among the scuffed up leaves and grass.
 
She glared at him, with only a neutral expression in
response.

"Are
you well, Elenna?" Brendan inquired, hastening to her side to offer a
hand.
 
She accepted some help to
her feet, then turned to face her nemesis.
 
He was fussing with a corner of his cloak trying to wipe the
dirt from his clothes.
 
She planted
herself in front of him, arms crossed, and waited for him to speak.

"You
have unusual methods of battle," he finally said, when he had finished his
tidying.
 
"Brendan told me
your father instructed you."

"So?"

"I
want to learn these ways," he replied casually.
 
"I think I can adapt a few to sword battle."
 
He ignored Brendan's look of
amazement.
 
Elenna studied his
expression.
 
Underneath his
carefully off-hand tone there was enough seriousness to give her reason to hold
back any barbed comments and consider the offer more deeply.

“So what
do I get out of this?" she bartered.

He
chuckled.
 
"Food, clothing and
protection are not enough for you, woman?"

"I
want to learn to use a sword," Elenna demanded.
 
She expected him to laugh, but instead he peered even more
closely into her eyes.
 
She frowned,
her chin jotting out in defiance.
 
Whatever he saw there made his decision.
 
He nodded almost imperceptibly, then turned and strolled
away.
 

"We'll
train each day after riding.
 
You
too, Brendan.
 
We have been lax
with our practice and that could have cost us today."
 
Brendan stared in bewilderment at his
friend's retreating back, then to Elenna with her look of triumph.

"I
kicked his butt!" she crowed, grinning.

Brendan
had to smile at her exuberance. "He let you win.
 
But he must have been very impressed to let you get that
far."

Brendan
let the matter drop until it was time to depart for the night.
 
Adrien woke him first to prepare for
the day’s ride.
 
As they went
through their departure routines, which at this point through repetition had
evolved into a well-choreographed dance, Brendan exploded with pent-up
curiosity.
 
Adrien had to admit to
himself he wasn’t quite sure why he had agreed to train her.
 
But he wasn’t going to admit that to
his old friend.
 
He gave what he
thought were plausible enough reasons, and if Brendan didn’t believe him, he
respected their friendship, or balance of power, enough not to challenge
him.
 
Adrien didn’t analyze his
decision very much beyond that; the woman was pleased, and he could always
change his mind if he wished.
 
And
it gave him something to think about beyond his worries.

Beginning
the next day, after the horses had been unloaded, the meal finished, and
Brendan asleep before his watch, Elenna and Adrien would find a clearing to use
for their lessons.
 
Already
exhausted from the day's riding, Elenna would practice the many forms and
stances of Allè-dônian sword craft under the critical eyes of her teacher.
 
For these first lessons she used the
brigand's sword.
 
It felt like a
ton of lead in her weary arms as she swung it over and over in practice
attacks, but it was all she had.
   

Her first
lesson had been quick.
 
Adrien used
this first meeting to teach her the proper grasps of the hilt, using both hands
and one.
 
Her muscles twitched from
the agony of the weight, but Elenna gritted her teeth and managed to hold
on.
 
When he announced the lesson
was over, she sighed in relief and went to place the sword back in its scabbard.

"Wait,"
Adrien ordered, touching her briefly on the forearm to stop her.
 
She turned to him, a questioning look
in her eyes.
 
He kneeled in front
of her, taking the blade into his hand.
 

"A
sword," he explained softly, "is never to be taken from its sheath
without taking blood.
 
That is the
way of a true warrior and swordsman."
 
He held up the sword, its razor sharp edge inches from his
exposed lower arm.
 
He drew it
gently across his unprotected skin, leaving a thin red line tracing his
path.
 
He looked up to see her brow
wrinkled in uncertainty.
 
He waited
as she bit her lip, thinking.
 
"Only the bloodied sword returns to its scabbard, Lady," he
said again.
 
This had always been
his first test of his students, and he had no intention of treating her any
differently.
  
Elenna peered
more closely, and saw all of the faint scars criss-crossing his wrists and
lower arms accumulated over years of practice.
 
She nodded slowly in understanding, and stretched out her
hand towards the blade.
 
She slid
the back of her wrist down the edge, wincing as it cut through her flesh.
 
A shallow cut two inches long marked
her first day as a swordswoman.
 
As
she returned her eyes to his, he allowed himself a small grin of pleasure.
 
"One day you might bear a sword
with honor," he said.
 
His
grin widened for a second into a true smile, the first had crossed his face
since his journey had begun.
 
She
smiled back uncertainly.
 
So they
remained for a minute, until Adrien broke the moment and rose to his feet.
 
"Tomorrow we will have a true
practice.
 
Today was only
play."
 

Elenna
watched him return to the camp, the flickering good feeling he had given her
gone.
 
"I am going to kick his
ass someday," she promised herself, then stood up to see what was
available for a quick snack before bed.