Orn ate his breakfast and headed to the armoury with Briga to don his armour and shield. He had hoped to make ready and begin the journey to the knight’s keep just to the north of the city with Erik. Orn recognised that he couldn’t refuse his mother’s instructor, but he chafed at the delay. It was only a day’s ride, but he hoped they could get there before dark. He resolved to get through this as quickly as he could.

Heading out to the palace grounds, Orn was chagrined to find a crowd of spectators surrounding the old woman, who stood leaning on her round shield with a wooden sword tucked in her belt, and her right hand held a second sword negligently resting the wood blade on her right shoulder.

“Ah, so good of you to arrive,” Nerethe said with a smirk as Orn entered the circle of royalty, palace guests and dignitaries. She tossed the sword she held to Orn.

As Orn reached to catch the sword Nerethe had tossed, she had snatched up her shield, and whipping out the wooden sword from her belt, closed the distance between them with frightening speed. Orn barely had time to set his shield in place, when he was forced to fend of a furious flurry of attacks and shield strikes.

The barrage of attacks forced Orn to drop to his right knee. He spotted an opening and made to roll past Nerethe. No sooner had he dived to her right, than he felt himself pressed face first into the earth. Nerethe had flipped to her right, landing on Orn’s back with hers.

Nereth rolled off Orn, and he regained his feet. The attacks did not let up, however, and he found himself pressed even more due to the fact he was winded.

Orn gathered his focus and struck out with a concentrated blast of air aimed at Nerethe’s chest area. Hoping to knock her back, but to his surprise, nothing happened. It were as though his ability didn’t work. Still, her flurry of attacks continued.

A growl of frustration escaped the back of Orn’s throat, and then he went on the offense.

He timed her next attempt at a shield strike. Bracing himself, he pushed off from his back foot and slammed his shield into hers with all his strength. The resulting impact sent the much lighter woman flying several feet backwards.

Nerethe landed with the grace of a nimble acrobat, and began circling Orn with some caution; her fighter’s knowledge reading that the element of surprise was gone. She was slightly winded, but still relatively fresh. She smiled at Orn as she feinted toward him.

Orn was breathing heavy. His chest hurt from having Nerethe drop her full body weight onto his back, crushing the air out of him. His ribcage was still tender from his encounter with the Kula berserks. His mind was racing as he flinched back from a feint. He was sure his wind blast hit its mark, and yet it did nothing to her. Focussing on Nerethe’s eyes, Orn watched for that telltale twitch of her shoulder he noticed from her feint.

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There it was. He saw the twitch indicating she would feint a move to his left. Ignoring the false lead, he launched a straight strike with his shield edge. He was aiming for her right shoulder.

Nerethe’s eyes widened as she realised he’d noticed the subtle tell she lead with. She barely managed to turn her shoulder inwards, avoiding her sword arm being pinned outside his guard. Too late she saw that Orn had reversed his sword grip, pushing her sword further across her body. He shot his arm over her left shoulder and almost caught her neck. She ducked as she spun into a sweeping leg kick, taking his legs out from under him.

Orn landed on his back hard, the air forced out of his lungs once again from the impact. All sound around him was muffled as he saw spots of light chasing each other before his eyes.

Nerethe was about to stand when she felt herself launched ten feet across the ground. She rolled to her feet, looking around to see where this new threat came from, to see a beautiful adolescent blonde woman wearing a crown of blue and yellow flowers racing to Orn’s side.

The young woman’s face wore a frantic expression as she knelt beside him, checking him over. Then her eyes fell upon Nerethe, and Nerethe felt a chill, as she sensed an immense power in this young woman. Nerethe swallowed, even as she smiled nervously.

Orn’s vision began to clear as he looked up into Briga’s worried eyes. He then said, “Ah, I guess I died. I’m glad to see that you are my heaven.”

Despite her concern, Briga snorted at that, and hugged his head close to her. “You didn’t have to do this. You could have told her you were still unwell.” Even as Nerethe approached, without looking up, Briga said, “Not one step closer!”

Nerethe hesitated, before saying, “I sometimes forget that humans are such fragile creatures.”

“He is not ‘fragile’, he is still recovering from being crushed less than a week ago!” Briga shot back.

“Oh,” was Nerethe’s simple response. She paused before saying, “He is very good. I would be proud if he were my pupil.”

“Of course he is. He is mine,” Briga said with uncharacteristic defensiveness.

“You are Briga. Why is the water goddess interfering in the lives of mortals?” asked Nerethe.

“That is not your business. Besides, just because you dragon bloods live many human lifetimes, you are still mortal,” said Briga hotly.

“My, aren’t we testy. Do remember to respect your elders, godling,” said Nerethe, as she smirked at Briga. “Look, I wasn’t aware that he was injured. Had I known, I might have played differently. See? No need to stay mad. Besides, you’ll give yourself wrinkles, scowling like that.”

Briga lifted her chin, raised her eyebrows, and regarded Narethe through half-closed eyelids as she replied haughtily, “Us divine ones don’t wrinkle.” Then they both aughed, and the tension evaporated.

Briga helped Orn to his feet, and wrapping his arm over her shoulder, walked him back inside the palace.

Narethe walked up to Venna and said, “You did all right with that one. He has some potential. So, who was it I am to teach?”

Venna responded, “My daughter-in-law. She wants to be a shield maiden.”

“Which is she? Ah, that one, with your older boy.” Nerethe clicked her tongue, curled her lip and rolled her eyes. “Another one I need to be delicate with. Can it wait for another ten months or so?”

“What do you mean? What fo- Wait, are you sure?” asked Venna as her eyes widened in surprise.

“As sure as I am that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. Can’t you tell?” asked Nerethe, teasing.

“You know I don’t have your sense of smell, master. We aren’t all of dragons,” Venna answered with a smile.

“What an astonishing thing,” said Nerethe with a straight face. “Every day you learn something new, is a day worth celebrating. Let’s get a drink.”

“Ah, it’s a bit early, don’t you think?” asked Venna.

“Nonsense. I’m sure it’s afternoon somewhere in the world. If they can drink now, so can we.”