After the fourth day at sea, Daana hardly noticed the heaving ocean swell beneath her feet. She’d heard the phenomenon referred to as ‘sea legs’ before, and was secretly pleased that hers had come in rather naturally. The same could not be said for Snag, who spent most of his time bent over the railing, feeding the fishes, as Ellisar lovingly called it.
Regardless of her newfound ability to walk the ship like a seasoned sailor, Daana was still nowhere near the level of either Ashwyn or Ellisar. They took to it like ducks to water. Unfortunately, this meant that Ashwyn gave no quarter when it came to Daana’s training, either. The orc didn’t care about the height of the swell or the fact that there was a limited area to train her pupil, she made do no matter the circumstances.
Ashwyn convinced the captain to allow her to use a section of the top deck each afternoon for rigorous training sessions. It hadn’t been so bad at first, back when the lessons were relatively easy and there wasn’t an eager crowd gathered around to watch. Alas, as Daana’s lessons progressed, she found herself not only challenged, but under the scrutiny of an unhelpful audience as well. Any crew members not on duty would line the rails and rigging, eager for a show.
“Alright, Peaches. We’re not finished until you’ve proved that you learned something. Come at me again, and I mean with gusto this time!”
Daana adjusted her grip on the shortsword in her hand and heaved her shield back into position. These were not the wooden replicas she’d seen the cadets use back in the palace training yard at Sunstorn. The sword and shield were real, dangerous, and miserably heavy. Ashwyn insisted that the best way to learn was to use the real thing. Real bruises were a heavily used portion of her training sessions, too.
With a gargled sound caught somewhere between a scream and groan, Daana rushed her trainer. She swung her blade only to have it met by a lackadaisical block from Ashwyn. Undeterred, Daana pivoted, ever mindful of her footing and cut the air once, twice, three times, before she was swept off her feet with a simple kick from the grinning orc. The crowd cheered, happy as always to have a show.
“Ugh!” Daana closed her eyes and rested her head against the oiled deck. Just as she thought she was starting to get the hang of something, her trainer would insert something new. It was always two steps forward, one painful step backwards. Over, and over, and over again.
“You weren’t watching your distance,” Ashwyn’s cheery voice called from above her. “Come on, get up. Let’s go at it again.”
“That wasn’t fair.”
“Of course it’s not fair. The next soldier you face off with, do you suppose they’re going to go easy on you just because you’re pretty? At least the lumps I’m giving you aren’t deadly.”
Daana sat up, but refused to stand. What did it matter? She’d wind up back on the ground in a matter of seconds anyway. “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results. That’s what we are doing here.”
“Nonsense. I’ve given three different wallops today, and each time, you remember what to do to avoid it.”
“Just to turn around and wallop me some other way!”
“And one day, Peaches, I will have run out of wallops to give you and you will be trained.”
“No thank you,” Daana said, trying to avoid the gawking stares that came at her from all sides as she eased back down. She understood the point of training and had come to accept that, like anything, she’d be terrible at it from the start. Truth be told, Ashwyn’s wallops weren’t even that bad. It was the taunting audience that discouraged her the most. “I think I’ll just stay down here a bit longer.”
A shadow slid down from the rigging and landed lightly on the deck between them. “Actually,” Ellisar said, hands on her hips, “she has a point.”
The elf’s frilly dress and sharp waistcoat had been traded for the practicality of trousers and a loose fitted tunic top. Ellisar would have added a sword–multiple swords, in fact, had she gotten her way–but Snag and Ashwyn insisted it might be safer for everyone if she didn’t. The salty sea air was causing her to act strangely. More strangely, at least, which seemed to have the other two worried.
“Have you been drinking salt water again, miss?” A taunting smile drew across Ashwyn’s mouth. “Since when are you in agreement with our dear secretary over, frankly, anything? Ever?”
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“You’re training her like she’s an orc,” Ellisar pointed out. “No matter how many times you wallop her, she’s never going to be able to beat your size or strength. She’s an elf. She needs to learn how to fight like one.”
“Is this your offer to take over the training then?”
Ellisar snapped the sword from Daana’s grasp and checked its balance in the palm of her hand. With a disapproving frown curled across her lips, she twirled the blade and approached Ashwyn unafraid. “Fuck no. But maybe if she sees the right way to take down a stronger opponent, she can sleep tonight with a few less broken ribs.”
“It’s about fucking time.” Ashwyn widened her stance as she lowered into an eager crouch. “I’ve been waiting all week for you to throw your weight around.”
Daana scrambled to her feet and sought the railing, wedging herself between two sun-crusted sailors. Wordlessly, the human to her left offered a flask and Daana took it without question. She would have preferred water, but the warm bite of grog at least helped wash away the copper taste of blood from her mouth. Daana passed the flask back, noting the mood of the audience had changed. The off-duty crew members sat straighter, as if they too sensed they were about to witness something memorable.
Ellisar wasted no time with theatrics. A fraction of a second later, her lithe form was across the deck and inside Ashwyn’s guard. The blade of the shortsword cast off glimmers of refracted sunlight as it weaved in and out with dizzying speed. Ashwyn allowed her shield to weather most of the attack as she lurched forward, pushing Ellisar into a retreat in order to gain the upperhand. Just as she got the elf maneuvered into a more favorable position, Ellisar was gone, having slipped from range with surefooted ease.
They went at it like this for several turns. Ellisar on the offense, forcing Ashwyn to play defense. Each time Ashwyn attempted to breach Ellisar’s guard or pin her into a corner, Ellisar would move again. Gradually, Ashwyn’s steady blocks grew slower. Her feet didn’t shift as quickly as before and the shield started to dip.
Ellisar retreated several paces backwards, calling to Daana without lifting her eyes from her opponent. “You will never match an orc in size or strength. The only way to gain ground is to use their weaknesses to your advantage. We may be smaller, but we’re faster too. Don’t waste your time trading strokes looking to land a fatal blow. Your objective is to strike over and over, in and out, dodging retaliation at every opportunity.”
She lunged, dodging a swing from Ashwyn’s sword and retaliated with one of her own. Sidestepping, one foot over the other, Ellisar weaved around her opponent, managing to sneak in several strikes before retreating once more. “But speed is only half the battle. If you want to win, then you have to wear your opponent down. An angry fighter makes more mistakes. Don’t be afraid to piss them off. Throw in whatever cheap shots you can get away with.”
To demonstrate, Ellisar closed the gap, ducked, rolled, and came up behind her wife. A kick to the back of Ashwyn’s knee sent the orc spilling forward. Ashwyn came back up snarling. She pivoted around, swinging her sword in a wide arc, but found nothing but empty space. Realizing her error, Ashwyn turned and raised her shield in time to block the blow from Ellisar’s sword. Little by little, the attacks ate at Ashwyn’s stamina. She eventually stopped attempting blows of her own and used her sword and shield to prevent the mounting assault from hitting anything vital. Ellisar managed to send her off balance several more times. By the fifth fall, Ashwyn conceded the fight with the tip of Ellisar’s sword pressed to her exposed throat.
Through the sweat rolling from her brow, Ashwyn’s dark gray eyes held Ellisar’s stare without flinching. Daana didn’t see anger, not even a thread of shame. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn the orc looked…hungry? Surely that wasn’t the right word. Still, there was an unmistakable glimmer of desire etched across Ashwyn’s weary face.
“It’s incredible to think I used to be able to keep up with you,” she panted.
“No, I was slowing down for you back then too.”
“Then I guess I’m not obligated to fight fair.” Quick as a viper, the orc knocked the sword from Ellisar’s grasp and lunged, catching the her wife around the knees. Ellisar went down with an awkward squawk. She flailed, using the point of her elbows and knees to break Ashwyn’s crushing grip. They rolled to a stop, with Ashwyn on top, using her weight to pin the struggling elf beneath her.
“Get the fuck off me!”
Ashwyn leaned forward and whispered just low enough for Daana’s ears to catch, “You use that language with me again, miss, and I will not hesitate to dole out your demerits right here.”
Ellisar’s already flushed face turned a shade pinker. Her furtive struggling ceased almost instantly.
The orc’s mouth twisted to the side disapprovingly. “No? What happened to your sense of adventure?”
Ellisar’s mouth parted, but before any words could escape, something solid rapped against the wooden deck, drawing every eye. Snag stood at the front of the main cabin, leaning heavily on his ornate walking stick. His withering glare cut worse than his words. “Will the bodyguard please release my business partner?”
Concealing her smile, Ashwyn rolled obediently to her feet. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
Most of the audience suddenly realized they had something more pressing to attend to and scattered, leaving the deck mostly empty. Snag stalked towards Daana, his left leg dragging just enough to be noticeable. He rested against the splintered railing and rolled his head backwards. “Thought you were supposed to be the one getting your ass beat.”
“Oh come on!” Daana protested, fists curled in exasperation. “It was just getting good. I’ve never seen anyone catch Ellisar off guard before.”
The start of a knowing smile threatened to pull across Snag’s mouth. “Don’t act upset about the lesson. You just want to know what a demerit is.”