“Again,” Khel barked. Thea sighed. At least this one had hit the bale of hay. She pulled another arrow from her quiver and set the nock on the bowstring. She gripped the wood tightly and drew back as she raised the arrow, pulling the bow tight until her fingers touched her cheek. The bow was different than the longbows she had used a few times in the past. It was shorter for one, and elaborately carved. The curve of the limbs reversed directions at the top and bottom, curling back forward so the string lay against the wood at each end. The intricate designs were functional as well as ornate; her hand rested comfortably in a grip that seemed designed for her palm, while an indentation in the carving served as a rest for the arrow. She sighted down the arrow then released, her hand flying upward as it let the string snap forward. The arrow thunked into the target on the very top edge, just missing flying off into the woods behind.

“You’re getting better,” Khel offered. “You’re still doing several things wrong, but you’re getting better.” His criticisms were playful, not harsh. He encouraged them as much as he could.

“I can’t get the arrow to go to the same place twice,” she complained.

“Don’t grip the bow so tight. If you squeeze the wood you’ll throw off your aim. And when you draw back, rest your finger under your chin. Keep it in the same place every time, and you’ll always know you’re releasing from the same place every time.”

“Is that all?” Thea asked, rolling her eyes.

“Well, no. Don’t draw until you lift the bow. Don’t pluck the string, just release it and let your hand relax. Don’t sight along the tip of the arrow or you’ll shoot too high. Should I go on?” he laughed.

“That’s enough for now,” she laughed back. She looked over at Math’s target. He wasn’t doing much better. Two of his arrows clung to the edges of his bale of hay. A third was nowhere in sight, probably lost in the woods behind if he was shooting as well as she was. She wasn’t terribly frustrated yet. They had only fired a few rounds so far on their first morning of training. Already they were both improving. Most of the time. She watched as Math sent another arrow into the target, this time only about six inches from the center.

“Well done,” Khel said.

Math looked over at her with a grin, proud of his shot. She smiled back. It was the first time either had smiled since they had lost Rai.

Her smile faded immediately with that thought. He saw her smile die away, and his disappeared in response. He turned back to his target and reached for another arrow. Khel, observant as ever, saw the exchange.

“Take a break,” he said. She and Math set their bows on the rack behind them and went to retrieve their arrows. Luckily, the area behind the targets was only lightly forested, without tall grass or thick underbrush. They pulled their stray arrows out of the ground and the trees they had struck and dropped them back into their quivers. They returned and met Math near a table stocked with a lunch of bread and fruit. They each grabbed a piece and nibbled on the light snack.

“How do you keep the Kobali from attacking here,” Thea asked.

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“We don’t,” Khel answered.

“You don’t?”

“The Kobali have not been a problem for a very long time, either for you or for us. Now that we know they’re on the move, we have outriders constantly patrolling. We’ll get a warning if they get near and have to evacuate. If that happens, it will be a good thing that we’ve held on to some of our customs.”

“What if they just dig all the way here, and come up in the middle of everyone?”

“It’s possible that could happen by chance, but it would be a matter of bad luck. They won’t know we’re here unless they come up and look. Sometimes they scout a short distance overland, but still, they’ll need to be somewhat close. They can’t see our village from underground.”

“How do they see underground at all?”

“They do have excellent eyesight, and even better senses of smell and hearing, but underground they feel. They can sense when someone is walking overhead, or nearby. If they get close enough, they’ll be able to feel all the people in this place walking or going about their business. But even with all that extra stomping around from the whole settlement, they have to be somewhere in the area to begin with.”

“That’s still not completely comforting.”

“No. No, it’s not. We are being very vigilant these days.”

“When do you expect these elders to arrive?” Math asked.

“Some will arrive in a day or two, some will take as much as a week. The messengers left a couple days before we actually arrived. They will stick to the settlements that are within five days’ ride. If the elders leave immediately, that will bring the furthest of them to us in ten days from the day the messengers left.”

“Catrain and Favian said someone from your ‘Creche’ might come. Is your capital that close?”

“It is only a few days further, but some from the Creche travel from settlement to settlement. This close to our home, it is likely that one or two will be within range.”

“Will they know what to do?”

“We hope so. They are the most learned of our people. They are the ones who knew that we needed the scions. If anyone knows where we go now, it’ll be them.”

“So in the meantime we just hang around here?” Thea asked.

“We’ll do more than hang around. Whatever the plan ends up being, we’re likely to run into trouble. We need to start teaching you to handle yourselves. We’ll shoot for a couple more hours, then I’ll show you which end of a sword is which.”

True to his word, they started training with swords that afternoon. Khel demonstrated the proper grip and the proper stance. They practiced with weighted wooden swords but didn’t take a single swing that day. They simply practiced holding the sword, gripping it in the right way, and moving. For the next two hours they stepped forwards and backwards, holding the sword. Nothing more. One step forward. One step back. Two steps forward. Two steps back. The third hour they added a sideways step. One step to the left. One step to the right. Two to the left. One forward. Two to the right. One backward. Over and over and over.

“Fighting is footwork,” Khel repeated again and again. “Footwork is fighting.”

The next day the routine was the same. They practiced their archery in the morning, took a break for lunch, and then worked with swords. That morning was better. Both their arrows already crept closer and closer to the center of their targets. That afternoon, they learned to add turns and pivots to their linear steps. By the end of the afternoon, Khel decided they were doing well enough to learn high, low and center guard positions. They finished out the day with another hour of footwork drills, but now they moved the sword from position to position as they stepped.

“How long before we learn to actually fight?” Thea asked at the end of the day.

“You are learning to fight. Footwork is…” Khel began. Thea cut him off.

“Footwork is fighting. I know. But at some point we need to actually swing the sword!”

“Normally you would learn footwork alone for months. But since we are somewhat pressed for time, I will begin teaching you to ‘actually swing the sword’ tomorrow.”