Chad barely broke stride after exiting the throne room, as he released his grip on my arm and stomped deeper into the winding hallways of the castle. Not wanting to be left behind, Dorian, Ash, and I followed. Chad was oblivious to our tail as he mindlessly weaved through the hallways, eventually thrusting open a simple set of wooden doors that led to a large training hall. Duncan was already waiting for him in a large dirt training ring. He stood barefoot, wearing only some homespun trousers and holding a wooden sword, what little whisp of dry hair remaining on his head standing up from his scalp like he’d been struck by lightning.
It was then that I noticed Duncan. When we had met him earlier, I had only really taken in his feature which distinguished him from the other soldiers in identical armor: that wiry, wild mustache. He had been large and imposing of course, as expected of a Captain of the Royal guard.
But now, I saw Duncan the Man.
He was a mountain of a human being, towering nearly seven feet tall. His frame was as wide as a doorway, and I wasn’t sure where his thick neck ended, and his shoulders began. His body was a tapestry of vibrant muscle, remaining in peak condition in his advancing years. All the muscles on his arms and chest were tense and looked ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. His physical discipline must have been tremendous! He had various scars on his arms and chest, reinforcing the darker experiences he had endured. He cut an imposing figure and had earned his place in this world.
Chad was already disrobing as we entered behind him, striping down to just his pants also, and taking a training sword off a nearby rack. There was no one else was present in the room. If it had been in use earlier, Duncan had urged them to depart before our impending arrival. Without a word, Chad stepped into the training ring and immediately began swinging at the older man.
THWACK! CRACK! CHONK! CLACK!
Violence filled the training hall.
As I watched, it became clear this wasn’t sparing. This was anger management. Chad wasn’t even attempting to pretend this was a training exercise. He was seeing red and was out for blood. As Duncan easily parried each blow, I wondered who Chad was fighting. His father? His younger brother? Me?
Or maybe himself.
Dorian sighed and started to disrobe as well.
“I knew this was coming. Come on, Ash! You haven’t trained in a couple of days, and we could both use the exercise!”
Ash jumped at the mention of his name and started to object, “Oh, no thank you! I wouldn’t be any kind of use to..” he glanced over at Chad violently advancing on Duncan and gulped, “…that”.
Dorian was already down to his pants and started pulling Ash towards some weapon racks. “Nah, it will be fine. Just remember when Duncan yells ‘switch’, stay put. He’ll come to you.”
I stood and watched as the four of them sparred, glorious muscles glistening in the glow of the torchlight. Dorian had even gotten Ash to shrug out of his robe. His muscles weren’t nearly as defined as Dorian or Chad’s, but his skin’s soft, creamy appearance had a certain appeal. He was getting better at fighting, but he still had a long way to go. Dorian was taking great care to make sure Ash never got close to Chad’s wrath. Chad was a fearsome fighter in this uncontrolled state. Had I actually managed to piss him off or there hadn’t been point limitations, there was no way I would have won the tournament. Despite his chaotic dance with Duncan, he still had the presence of mind to weave close enough to another rack to equip another sword.
Duncan was on a completely different level, however. His single blade matched against Chad’s two, he still defended from Chad’s furious assault with ease, and I had yet to see him take the offensive. Was he scarred of hitting the prince, or simply not allowed to? My question was answered as Chad made his first mistake.
Chad had gotten overconfident or cocky and had swung both swords hard in the same direction. Despite the force behind the blow, Duncan easily blocked the attack and countered with a sweep that caused Chad to lose control of both blades, and they were flung from his grip.
His opponent now disarmed, Duncan shot out his empty hand, grabbed Chad by the throat and lifted him clear off the ground. Chad furiously clawed at Duncan’s arm, to no avail, and instead started thrashing and kicking wildly in the air. Duncan, unperturbed by Chad’s behavior, merely chastised him.
“Your anger continues to get the better of you, boy. Do you not see how allowing it control has accomplished you nothing?” He then tossed Chad away from him as if he were a rag doll.
“Switch!”
Dorian obeyed and swapped places, allowing Duncan to work with Ash. Chad had already picked himself off the ground and rearmed himself to be ready for Dorian. I hoped he was up to the task.
“Entertaining, aren’t they?”
I had been so enthralled by the sweaty, muscular workout, that I hadn’t noticed Max had snuck up beside me to also spectate.
“I’m getting the feeling this is a common occurrence?”
Max nodded, “Oh yeah. Almost every time Chadwick has an audience with Father, he needs a place to vent afterwards. Duncan has trained us since we were old enough to pick up a sword, so impromptu sessions like these became a logical outcome.”
“Does Duncan ever fight back? He’s really only stayed on the defensive against Chad’s chaotic rampage.”
Max chuckled a bit, “Oh, you’ll see. If Chadwick doesn’t stop seeing red soon, Duncan will start taking this seriously.” He rubbed his hands together with glee, “Then, you’ll see the real face of our dear Captain!”
“Switch!”
“Going to join in?” I asked, waving at the fighters as they rotated.
Max scratched at the side of his face. “Nah. They’ve already got an even number.” He jerked his chin at Ash, “Plus, it looks like he needs the practice more than you or I do.”
Ash was back to training with Dorian, who continued to take practice jabs at him. He had gotten better in the last week, slipping up only to get popped rather infrequently now, but the difference in intensity from their session to Duncan and Chad was night and day.
“Then why are you here?” I questioned. “That eager to watch your brother get knocked down some more pegs?”
“I’ll admit that’s an added bonus,” he grinned and looked at me with that patented Chaddington gaze, “but I was actually hoping you and I could get some alone time.”
I blushed but attempted to hide the effects of his smooth tongue as I spurned his adorable, and effective, flirtations. “Thanks, but I’ve already got men climbing over themselves for my attention.” I sputtered.
He laughed again and lightly clapped his hands, “No, no! Don’t misunderstand my intentions! I am not yet of age for courting anyway.”
He raised an eyebrow at the boys sweating heavily in the arena.
“And I already noticed the line...”
It was weird talking to a man who paid attention.
“So, how old are you then?”
“The dreaded 17. Only a few months before Father openly declares me and the parading me about like a stud for breeding begins.” He rolled his eyes very exaggeratedly. “I can’t wait to see what my political pairing looks like, and all so Father has some more peace of mind.” He looked melancholy for the first time since we had met. “It’s a double-edged sword being so far down the line from the throne,” he nodded at his brother, “Your life isn’t planned out from the start, only because nobody really cares who you are, yet you remain a political pawn until the end.”
“Switch!”
I attempted to change the subject only to realize too late I stuck my foot in my mouth, “You and Chad have other brothers then?”
Perfect, Amelia! You’re so amazing at this! Next, ask him how many friends he has!
Max didn’t seem to mind the question, however.
“Of course! But he and I are the only siblings born by our mother, the Queen.” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, counting, “There are eight of us? Ten? I’ve forgotten. We’re rarely in the same place for long. Once one of us becomes 18, we are quickly married into a political pairing and sent around the country on various errands or diplomatic missions.”
He grimaced a bit as he added, “To answer your next question, yes, Father has graced other women with the honor of bearing him sons.” He pressed a hand to his chest, “I was actually an accident. Father is so vain that he has desired Mother look as youthful and vibrant as the day they were wed. Once Chadwick was born, he refrained from touching her as much as possible so not to risk straining her body with more children.” He then waved at the air haphazardly, “The other women, he cares not. As a result, we have brothers through four other ‘aunts’. Or is it five?”
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I held back the taste of bile in my throat.
“You mentioned Chad might be losing your father’s favor as heir. Is one of your brothers really a threat to him?”
Max tried to shrug the question off, “Probably not. My jests are all in good fun… mostly. That being said, Horrick is a picture-perfect son, as far as Father is concerned. Had he not been born second, I’m sure Father would have been beyond pleased with him as the next in line!”
“Switch!”
I crinkled my nose, “Really? What kind of name is Horrick? ”
Max grinned at the joke made at his elder brother’s expense, “I know! He’s as awful as he sounds too. He and Chad get along as well as oil and water, and Father seems to get a cruel rise from pitting them against each other.”
He cocked his head to the side thoughtfully, “I’ve only seen him once since his arranged marriage, but they’re oddly a perfect match, in the worst way. I think he’s only gotten worse in the years since. Curiously, she hasn’t born him any children. It’s possible that’s where his increased cruelty has spawned from.”
He turned his gaze back to his brother’s and Duncan’s continued match. Chad was cooling down a bit, but it was clear he was still consumed with the desire to hit something. Duncan had noticed this and started taking advantage of Chad’s sloppy openings. I winced as Chad got smacked, rather loudly, on his thigh.
Now I know where Chad got it from.
Max continued from earlier, “No, I love my brother. If anything, our unique connection to Mother has us closer than any of our other siblings. I’m not even sure I know all their names! But Chadwick brings most of it on himself.” He got a solemn look on his face. “He’s got a lot of pressure on him, you know? Father’s expectations. His rivalry with Horrick. The expectations of the Kingdom! That’s why Duncan started agreeing to these sessions. It’s one of the few ways Chad can let loose and release some of the pent-up emotions he’s got to keep in check.”
Chad messed up again and was struck hard on his back, a long welt forming across it.
Max winced, “Although if you’d just go along with marrying him, I’m sure he’d be happy with the more pleasurable alternatives.”
He grinned again as I rolled my eyes. I could tell he was teasing me as I scoffed, “Pleasurable for who?”
“Switch!”
We both laughed to each other as Dorian hopped over to the slower moving, limping, Chad.
“And don’t worry,” Max winked, “I know Chadwick hasn’t bed you yet.”
My mouth dropped open in surprise. Why would the prince not assume what everyone else seemed to?
In response to my obvious shock, he laughed “Chadwick wouldn’t know what to do with a naked woman if one bit him on his own narcissistic ass! Especially one as beautiful as you.” He eyed me for a moment to look me up and down, “Now if you bit me, on the other hand…”
Goddess, why is he so cute?
I coyly raised an eyebrow, “Thought you weren’t of age yet?”
He raised a hand to his chest in a feigned bewilderment, “I’m still a man overflowing with needs and can appreciate a woman with such enchanting looks as yourself! It’s like having an appreciation for art!” He dropped the fake look and got a mischievous grin on his face again, “And maybe being in your presence has me realizing I need to get a head start…”
I continued to blush and giggle playfully. The kid was smooth, I’d give him that. Such a shame Chad didn’t share his personality. Or views on women. Then it dawned on me, “Where’s the queen? I’m surprised she hasn’t been around to greet Chad’s return!”
Max lost his playful mood as he said, “Mother doesn’t have the freedom to roam about the castle freely. Father keeps her under constant watch and only allows her unescorted access to a select few rooms in the castle. He’s afraid if she has any excessive interaction with any other man that she may end up falling out of love with him. Father is very jealous. His paranoia even extends to frequent rotations of her guards!”
He nodded again to Chad, “But Chadwick loves Mother. I’m sure he will make his own way to her once this outburst is through.”
My eyes started to burn hot at this new information. I hated this man, their king. Everything about him. He ruled everyone through power and fear, even his own family.
“Switch!”
We both watched Duncan stalk over to an exhausted Chad. Dorian had taken advantage of his worn-out state and had a bit of fun at his expense. In the last swap, he had started laying into him a little harder than usual, taking a page from Duncan and also smacking him around after sloppy decisions. How he was still standing at this point was the result of sheer stubbornness. Chad was huffing and bent over, leaning on a sword like a cane to remain upright. He had become too exhausted to dual wield anymore, his other hand empty and limp at his side. His exposed skin was red all over from the various unprotected welts and blows it had taken.
Despite his opponent’s sorry state, Duncan didn’t hesitate. He walked right over to Chad, who attempted to straighten up and keep going, only to have Duncan punch him full-on in the face. The blow leveled Chad, and he collapsed, wheezing on his back and staring at the ceiling.
I winced and Max whistled in surprise, his eyebrows practically jumping off his face.
That’s some tough love.
“That’s enough!” Duncan yelled. “This has to stop. I know you are frustrated with your father, and yourself, but you must learn control! If you are never able to master your emotions, the citizens you have sworn to love and protect will suffer for it! Your kingdom will suffer. Your family will suffer.”
Chad continued to breath heavily, his limbs splayed out on the ground, stomach heaving like a pump to get air into his exhausted lungs.
Duncan bowed his head and closed his eyes in disappointment. “You had been making such progress. We hadn’t had to cross blades like this for the last year. I thought you had finally reached a point where you were past needing these sessions. I stood here waiting, hoping you weren’t going to walk through those doors.”
He turned away from Chad, who was breathing a little easier, but still hadn’t moved from his spot on the ground.
“You realize you brought your father’s admonishment on yourself this time.”
Chad finally spoke for the first time since leaving the throne room.
“I know.”
Duncan looked back at his fallen student. “Then maybe you are learning.”
He then turned to Max and me and gestured to the training ring, “Either of you need a turn?”
I had no intention of engaging this massive man who had just leveled an opponent I had only squeaked by barely a month ago. Max had other ideas, and he hip checked me towards Duncan to feign my interest.
Duncan gave me a big smile, ignoring Max’s intervention on my behalf, “I was hoping it would be you.”
I started to stammer out, “No I—”
Duncan interrupted me, “Come on, lass, I’ve been around long enough. I can tell a fighter when I see one.” He turned and walked over to a rack.
A rack where Minerva lay.
“Especially a fighter who is willing to boast that she can wield such a weapon as this!”
He lifted her from the rack and hefted her for a moment before she got a few test swings. She hadn’t yet seen a real fight, but I had tested her weight with plenty of practice swings. Even for my considerable strength, it was good exercise, but I still had some work to do for extended use on a field of battle. Duncan, on the other hand, made it look like she was made of paper, as he tossed her about from hand to hand and twirled her around playfully. He then activated her trick heads and beheld her two-headed form.
“Quite a beauty, despite the marginally above average craftsmanship.” He looked at me carefully before adding, “I’m not sure how practical this mechanism is? A single axe head is just as dangerous as two in the same direction.” I blushed with embarrassment at his comment, and I could see in his eyes that he noticed.
“I’ve got a friend who owes me a favor. He could remove the mechanism permanently to make it a more conventional two headed weapon without compromising the rest of it. Probably upgrade the quality of the whole axe too. However…”
He paused as he pulled at Minerva’s haft and unsheathed Hippolyta.
“I don’t have any idea what he will make of this!”
He set Minerva back on the rack and inspected the katana.
“In all my years, across all my battlefields, I have never seen a weapon such as this.” He squinted down the blade, checking its craftsmanship before gaving her some test swings as well. He then held it out to me gently. “What is it?” he asked, breathlessly.
“It’s called a katana. It’s a sword from my world.” I explained.
“So, you’re sticking to the prince’s story, eh?”
I frowned at him, “It’s not a story!”
“Oh?” He gestured to all in attendance, everyone now focused on the both of us. “Anyone here that can corroborate your claim? They saw you, with their own eyes, fall from the Heavens and crash land somewhere out in the countryside?”
I hesitated, “Well, no one here, no.”
Ash came to my defense, “My eldest sister did. She’s the one who found Amelia in the remains of the Goddess’ temple. She emerged from a great hole in the ground left by her landing, unscathed and....” he blushed hard, as he always did at this part of the retelling, and didn’t continue.
Duncan raised an eyebrow in question, “So, the only witness to her claim is another woman?”
I was disappointed. I had the impression from Duncan that he was a man with a level head on his shoulders. Thankfully, I wasn’t disappointed long as he continued, “Your story had best get better if you are using a woman as your sole witness. True or not, that’s not going to do you much good here.” He glanced at Ash again, “Especially if that woman is a descendent of the Goddess herself. You’ll be lucky if you aren’t branded a heretic, or worse.”
Again, he held Hippolyta out to me, “Show me.”
I took her from him, and he walked over to a rack that held steel weapons. I nervously took up a stance as he walked back over to me, brandishing a real sword.
“Do not be afraid, I will not attack you. I just want to witness what you can do with that foreign blade.” He waved invitingly at me. “Come.”
I decided to go along with his request, stepped forward and swung. Duncan shifted his blade to block.
And Hippolyta shattered.
Shards of it flew everywhere. I quickly looked away and lifted my arm to shield myself, Duncan doing the same. When the danger cleared, I looked back to see what had happened. The katana had cracked and shattered where I had made contact with Duncan’s weapon, about halfway up the blade. The experimental craftsmanship of Bronzemead’s blacksmith had not held, and his unfamiliarity with this strange weapon had been its undoing. It had failed in a single blow.
“As I thought.” Duncan said, as if he had already known the outcome. “Your blacksmith’s unfamiliarity with your otherworldly weapon proved too costly, and the blade was not true.”
He twisted at the corner of his mustache in thought. “At least it failed now instead of a moment of great need.”
I barely heard him. I was heartbroken. I knew when I had inspected the blade for the first time that it had not been perfect. I was well aware of the dedication to the technique needed by the craftsmen on Earth to forge this type of blade. They studied under their masters for decades before being able to craft their own. My blacksmith had merely weeks.
Still, it was something that had connected me to home. One of the reasons I had made the effort with the request to craft it was because it gave me a silly way to feel like I could touch my old life again. And now, like so many other things, it was gone.
I blinked away the beginnings of tears as Duncan held out Minera. I avoided eye contact with him and slid what was left of Hippolyta back into the axe.
“Have no fear, lass!” Duncan said cheerfully. “Your axe is still a fine weapon and, with a few more tweaks, should fair you well on the harsh road to come. You appear to have the strength to wield it, with proper training.” He clapped gently me on the back. “Come boys, let us collect the prince and all get cleaned up. We have preparations to make before the rest of our party arrives tomorrow.”
Dorian slid up to check on me, aware of my shaken state.
“Are you ok? It’s just a sword. We can get you another one!” Then he stopped, “Well, maybe not exactly another one, but we’ll think of something!” He squeezed my shoulders lightly, “I know what will cheer you up! After we bathe and get all cleaned up, let’s go have a laugh at the monstrosity sitting at the top of this mountain!”