Book 1: Chapter 14 - Training [Part 2]

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The Armsmaster nodded slightly, as if he had expected such a response. “Excellent. And how might we be able to predict such a thing?” continued the grizzled instructor.

Though she very much wanted to answer, Seraphina held her tongue.

Eloise pursed her lips in thought before replying. “Through... observation?”

“I do believe we have a model student. As a noblewoman, you have taken lessons in Mathematica?”

The doll-like girl gave a smug smile. “Of course! It is one of the bare necessities for a woman of good breeding.”

Kellan, accustomed to dealing with nobility, kept his face devoid of emotion. “Lady de Laney, then you would, of course, be familiar with probability…”

“...And you believe that the contest of blades, fighting, is a game of probability?” she interrupted, looking increasingly confident. Seraphina could almost see her head growing bigger by the second and wished for a needle to pop it.

The old soldier smiled in response. “Just so, milady. A game of observation, probability, bluff, and deception—a gamble where the stakes can be the highest of all. The greatest of masters, of which I am not one, are able to mix all of these things together. I will teach your body to move before your mind. Skill I can teach...”

“But Strength, speed, and Dexterity are things we must acquire ourselves,” finished Seraphina for him, growing tired of the lecture.

He coughed. "It is as Lady Seraphina says," he admitted with a casual shrug. "Though, as you are both of the weaker sex, it will be more difficult than most."

Smug mischief danced in Seraphina's emerald eyes. "Difficult, but not impossible," she replied, a hint of challenge in her voice.

The older man met her gaze and softened his tone, for some truths were best delivered with the greatest of care. "Impossible to a degree, milady. I mean no insult, but there is only so much muscle and bone that can lie upon a woman's frame. It is simply how the Divines made us and our balance of humors. Men and women were built for different purposes."

On a logical level, Seraphina understood his meaning, even agreed with him. Men and women were, of course, biologically different. But there were more similarities than differences, and she was most definitely the rare exception to the rule. All her life, the original Seraphinas had been playing a game of deception, hiding her true Strength for fear of being seen as masculine and unrefined. She lied so well that she had even deceived herself.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

But this new Seraphina had no such qualms about using her full Strength. She was willing to use whatever tools and advantages were at hand to win.

"You must look at your opponent's eyes, his face, his shoulders, his arms, his legs, and where he places his feet," Kellan continued. "You must see the totality of a man, for to anticipate where he will strike is a combination of all things. Your opponent may lie with one or two of these, but never with all. You must learn to read everything and give away nothing. That is the essence of fighting," he explained, his voice imbued with the weight of hard-earned Wisdom.

Which, in a way, he was imparting—but Seraphina had had quite enough.

"Come now, Armsmaster Kellan, that is too much Wisdom for one day for the poor girl. Some things can only be learned by doing," she interjected, a hint of impatience sharpening her tone.

Kellan closed his eyes briefly, perhaps to compose himself, cursing the gods that had bestowed upon him such a difficult student. "Very well," he conceded. "You must try, if possible, to stand like this, presenting your side to your opponent. This will make you a smaller target. It is better to receive an attack on the limbs than in one's vitals."

He demonstrated the correct stance, moving with the fluid grace of a seasoned warrior half his age. The two girls attempted to mimic him. Eloise wobbled, unbalanced; the footwork was unlike anything she had learned before. Twice, the Armsmaster exposed the flaws in her stance by unceremoniously tripping her, sending her sprawling to the floor. Seraphina's own attempts at footwork were better, and though she wavered under the Armsmaster's tests of her stance's solidity, she managed to keep her feet.

But Eloise was not entirely hopeless. Years of dance instruction had taught her how to mimic movements and learn quickly. There were transferable skills here, and she found that if she thought of it as the first steps of a dance, her movements gained precision and grace. Unbeknownst to her, she had touched upon a deeper Wisdom.

After another hour or two of grueling drills, the Armsmaster decided to show them the first few slashes and strikes. There were differences from what Seraphina had learned from the modern doctrines of combat—Aranthian knife work favored a lower stance and guard, with more powerful reverse-gripped strikes designed to punch through armor—but the principles remained ultimately the same.

“Strike with all the speed and Strength you have, lest you be merely practicing against the air!” the Armsmaster shouted, circling them like a predator.

Eloise appeared to be flagging, and in truth, so was Seraphina, though she hid it better.

“Good, that will be enough for today!” declared the Armsmaster. “Eloise, you show great promise. Perhaps you will not die too easily with further training,” Kellan grudgingly admitted.

The Armsmaster’s easy praise of the dark-haired girl ignited a flash of irritation in Seraphina. Of course, that was probably the man's intention all along, but the young noblewoman saw through his ploy.

It was all about using the right levers to manipulate a person. Fine, she would let herself be manipulated if it served her benefit.

“Now then,” the Armsmaster grinned wickedly, “you must build some basic speed, Strength, and Stamina. The best way to do this is with a run!”

It seemed that Seraphina had underestimated the depths of the Armsmaster.