The next couple of days were a blur of activity. Allora was testy with Lethelin for awhile demanding once more to see the mysterious token and to get more information about the Thieves’ Guild, but Lethelin refused. After the third time, the thief adopted a look of confusion and would simply say, ‘Whatever are you referring to, m’lady?’ Mitchell thought Allora was going to take a swing at her, but the knight merely stalked off and spent the next hour practicing her sword forms until she was so exhausted Mitchell thought he might have to carry her to the stream to cool her off.

As for Mitchell, he was as busy as ever. Gilriel took up his instruction on their second day and he found her just as brutal and efficient as Allora had been. He had defended against her first exploratory strikes with ease. However, that was just a way for her to get a feel for his speed and strength. Once the old elf had a general sense of his skill level, she went to work on him.

Mitchell saw many of the techniques Allora used to train him present in Gilriel’s instruction. The biggest difference was that Gilriel was much tighter in her execution of the various moves. Mitchell supposed that was the benefit of literal decades of practice. Allora was very good by every account. From what he understood, the Academy they studied at passed no one who couldn’t cut it, but working with Gilriel showed him what a true master of the blade looked like.

Because both Gilriel and Allora had trained under the Onyx Academy’s system, the names were the same for the various positions in which he was drilled. This made it easy for him to go through the movements as she called out some of the same sequences for him to move through as Allora had. Although she did have a few that had tripped him up in the beginning.

“Allora hasn’t taught you that one, yet, eh?” she said with a grin.

Mitchell was panting and nursing a welt on his inner thigh where her practice sword had found its mark after he made a misstep.

“Apparently not,” he grimaced.

He was panting, his face was dripping with sweat, and he’d removed his shirt after soaking it through an hour before.

She looked at the spot he was massaging.

“Do you think you have it now?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Let’s find out,” she said as she brought her sword up to the ready position. “Hup!”

That was their signal to begin. Mitchell moved through the new sequence again. When she moved to strike this time, he almost lost his footing, but he was just a hair faster than before and her practice blade missed with less than an inch to spare. Taking advantage of her slight surprise at his speed, Mitchell riposted with a series of three quick and savage attacks that sent Gilriel scampering back with a look of grim determination on her face as she worked to parry his blade. Regaining her composure, she locked him up and they came together, him panting and her finally breaking out in a sweat.

“Not bad, Earth man,” she said and her grin turned almost feral. “But not good enough!”

Mitchell sensed her feet move beneath them and, before he could react, he felt her leg slip between his and her shoulder took him hard in the chest. The next moment he was on the ground looking at the sky as he struggled to draw breath. Gilriel loomed over him, her practice sword placed at his neck.

“I guess you haven’t learned that one yet, either,” she said to him with that savage smile.

“No,” he groaned as he pulled himself to his feet.

“Watch carefully.”

***

Allora finished adjusting the final strap on her chest piece as she watched Mitchell work at summoning his shield of daggers while Gilriel harried him with a long bit of branch she’d found somewhere. Their months of hard travel had caused her to drop weight and it had taken the better part of an afternoon to tighten up the fittings where they were loose and trim away some excess material before resewing it. The steel fasteners had been especially vexing. Luckily, Gilriel had the basic tools needed to maintain the gear and she remembered enough that she got the work done, albeit slowly and with many mumbled curses and a few cuts on her fingers. She ran her hands over the supple leather and just seeing the violet and black colors soothed her. She remembered those days when she’d first been fitted for them. She’d been just seventeen high suns old. Not so long ago in years, but ancient when she thought of all she’d been through since those hopeful days. Her mother and father had been there when she walked out of the armorer’s studio, fully clad as an Onyx Knight. They didn’t say anything, but they didn’t have to. Their smiles were enough.

She ran her hand down the seam she’d just restitched as she remembered doing her initial combat drills fully armored. It had been awkward at first as her body adjusted to the new weight, but, as with every knight before her, she had adapted and thrived. Her armor was like a second skin to her now. She longed for the day when she could wear it again without fear.

Her mind went back to the bandit they’d come across. His words still stung her. To see how much he had hated the knights for what had happened. Would all feel that way? She hoped not. She hoped desperately that when Mitchell claimed the throne that the people would take hope and help in the fight against Milandris and that they would see that not all the knights were gone.

“Hold it!”

Gilriel’s sharp command broke through her idle thoughts. She was standing a few meters back from Mitchell as the shield of daggers whirled in the area around him like a tornado of sharpened steel.

“Now, you girl. Do as I’ve told you. Fire!”

Allora’s eyes widened as she saw Lethelin standing near the edge of the clearing with the blackmoor bow she’d been gifted and an arrow loaded. The thief looked uncertain.

“You’re crazy!” Mitchell said through clenched teeth as he fought to maintain the spell. “She’ll kill me.”

“Do it, girl!” Gilriel barked. “Before he loses the spell.”

Before Allora could cry out a protest Lethelin brought her bow up in one smooth motion and released the arrow in a fraction of a second. Even with the shock of what she was witnessing making her almost numb, Allora could see the skill evident in her movements.

“No!” Allora shouted from twenty meters away as she tried to hop over the table as if she could throw herself in front of the arrow already speeding towards Mitchell’s heart.

Mitchell screamed as the arrow raced toward him, level and true, but he held the spell.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Allora watched in disbelief as the arrow struck his shield of daggers and was instantly ripped apart by the spectral blades, the broken pieces flying off in multiple directions.

Mitchell’s scream cut off, the spell dropped, and he fell to one knee, panting with exertion and looking like he might topple over. Allora raced to his side and began to kneel down and check on him but he saw her from the corner of his eye and waved her off.

“I’m okay, just almost out of mana. I’ll be alright.”

Allora turned her glare on Gilriel.

“What were you thinking? He could have been killed!”

The old knight arched an eyebrow at Allora’s tone, but didn’t meet anger with anger.

“He needed to trust the spell. It would do no good if he dropped it under threat. You know that, Allora. And now he does, as well.” She looked down at Mitchell who was starting to get to his feet. “Don’t you, boy?”

Mitchell merely nodded, giving the old woman a wary glance. Lethelin arrived then and looked apologetically at Allora.

Allora wanted to argue but she also knew that such things were fairly standard as a way to build one’s confidence in their abilities. Still, if something had gone wrong…

“If it’s alright with you, I think that’s enough for today,” Mitchell said, looking at Gilriel. His shoulders were slumped and his bare chest and back were covered in bruises and welts from their sword work and spell practice. They would be healed by morning but it still made her wince to see them.

“It is,” Gilriel said, giving Mitchell a pleased smile. “You’ve earned your rest. Go get cleaned up and I’ll start dinner.”

Mitchell only nodded and trudged away, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. He unlaced his sevith as he walked, placing it on a small table next to the cottage and headed for the tree line.

“You, girl,” Gilriel said, turning her attention back to Lethelin. “That was a fine shot. I couldn’t have done it better myself. I’m glad to see that the bow will not be wasted.”

Lethelin actually blushed and dipped her head.

“Thank you, Lady Gilriel. It is a magnificent weapon. I will cherish it and use it wisely.”

Allora still couldn’t get used to the respectful way Lethelin spoke to the elder elf. It really was like she was looking at a different person than the one who’d she’d nearly throttled more times than she could count.

“Now, if you wouldn’t mind, would you get an athi from the pen and butcher it for me. Everyone deserves a big meal tonight, I think.”

“Yes, Lady Gilriel.”

Lethelin ducked her head once more and, with a quick glance at Allora, made her way to the back of the cottage to choose some unfortunate bird for their dinner. Then it was just the two of them. The older woman gave Allora a level stare.

“Gilriel, I—”

The woman held up a hand and silenced her. Such was Allora’s training that she couldn’t help but obey.

“This will not do, Allora De Annen. This will not do at all.”

Without even knowing why, Allora felt ashamed.

“The same was done for you, I’m sure,” Gilriel’s voice was hard. “You would have faced far more dangerous attacks than a mere arrow as you learned to master your shield spells. Yet you ask me to do less for Mitchell? He must be prepared when he goes into battle and that cannot be done unless he trusts his own powers!”

“But—”

“I did not give you permission to speak!” The old instructor’s voice was like a lash across bare skin. "We may not be in the academy but I am still a knight and your superior officer. You will remain silent until I give you leave to answer. Is that understood, lieutenant?”

“Yes, Commander,” Allora said meekly.

Gilriel let out a long sigh.

“You must squash this desire to coddle him, Allora,” her tone gentler now. “You cannot teach him what he needs to know with half measures. I know that you love him but you are doing him no favors.

“I…” she swallowed. “He has already experienced so much pain because of me. Between our capture and the brutal way in which we were forced to instruct him in his magical studies… I fear that doing more may drive him away or break him in some way that healing spells cannot mend. Almost all he has known since he came to Tewadunn has been pain and torment. How can I continue to add to that?”

Gilriel’s look softened.

“Because it will keep him alive. From what you’ve all told me of the human world, they don’t often need to fight as we must here. You will be heading to Lorivin soon, surrounded and outnumbered at all times. Understanding the limits of that spell could very well save his life, or yours. You know that. If you love him as I know that you do, how could you do less for him?”

Allora bowed her head and nodded.

“You are right.”

“Come here, girl,” Gilriel said and hugged her close.

Allora returned the embrace and felt the love she had for this woman swell in her chest. She filled her nose with the scent of the morning blossom soap that Gilriel used to bathe.

“Your mother would be proud of you, you know.”

“Sometimes, I do not think so,” Allora said into Gilriel’s shoulder. “I feel so lost most of the time. I feel as if every decision I make is wrong and we will all suffer for it.”

Gilriel broke the hug and held Allora at arm’s length. She was smiling broadly.

“Nonsense, child. I think no one else could have done what you’ve done. No one else could have accomplished so much with so little, and against such odds. You have Vish’s blessings upon you.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Didn’t I tell you that fairy wings were blooming at my shrine the morning you arrived?”

“So?”

Gilriel chuckled and shook her head as she pulled Allora’s arm into hers and they started to walk back toward her cottage.

“You were telling the truth when you said you neglected your religious studies.”

Allora gave a bashful smile but didn’t reply.

“I had prayed to Vish to let me know when you had returned. Fairy wings are her blossom. She has been watching you and she let me know that you would arrive that day. Three flowers were blooming from the ground in front of the shrine that morning. I knew you had returned and I knew there were three of you. Although, truth be told, I half expected the third to be Revos. I could do with a tumble with that randy old devil.”

“Gilriel!” Allora said, shocked.

“You could do with a tumble yourself, girl.”

Gilriel gave her a knowing grin then swatted her on the bottom.

“Go check on Mitchell. And…” Gilriel glanced down the path that Mitchell had taken to the bathing pool before her eyes returned to Allora. “Take your time.”

“I—”

“Go on. Dinner won’t be for a good hour at least. I didn’t wear him out too much and you both need it after all you’ve been through.”

Unbidden a flush rose in Allora’s cheeks and she broke from her mentor and followed the path Mitchell had taken into the forest behind the cottage.

As she picked her way down the path she felt her heart beat faster. Lethelin was off helping Gilriel with dinner and it sounded like she would keep the assassin busy to give them some privacy. Allora knew how Mitchell and Lethelin felt about each other and she knew he would want to be with her soon enough as well, but she found herself getting slightly possessive. It was right that she was his first, though. She didn’t mind sharing him, not really. But she knew that if he had bedded Lethelin first she would have felt disappointed. As she crossed the grass into the forest she couldn’t stop herself from imagining finally having him. His lips on hers, his hands on her skin, his hardness between her thighs.

Unbidden the fear came to her then, like a bucket of icy river water over her head. What if she lost him? What if she had to do what she’d done before? Davrys’s confused and pleading eyes suddenly became azure blue and the face resolved itself in her mind’s eye to Mitchell’s. The shock was so intense it almost took her to her knees. Instead, she braced a hand against a nearby tree and tried to master her emotions. This time would be different. Gilriel had said herself that they had Vish’s blessing. She wouldn’t fail again. She wouldn’t lose Mitchell. She wouldn’t have to…

She stiffened her spine and stood upright. She reminded herself once more that she deserved this. Mitchell deserved it, as well. He had sacrificed so much for her and he had never once asked for anything in return. He hadn’t asked for gold or favors. He hadn’t started making demands like some petulant lord. And he loved her. It was evident in everything he did how much his heart burned for her. She saw it and she gloried in the radiance of it. It had been her strength, all these lonely weeks they’d traveled together. Even when she had been too afraid to admit the truth to herself, he had never wavered. They would have this, she decided. What was it Mitchell had said, the night before as they’d shared their wine by the little campfire outside their tent?

“Eat, drink, and be merry,” he’d said. “For tomorrow, we may die.”

Allora understood the meaning behind the foreign phrase. The future was unknown and death could come on swift wings. She knew that they were unlikely to die tomorrow, but they were heading into perils unknown and victory was far from certain. Today, she decided, they would finally have their moment.

Resolute in her decision, Allora continued on down the path to the grotto that Gilriel had made for bathing.