Page 77 of The Heartless Archer

The sound of crashing metal reverberated around the courtyard, the vibration of the collision travelled across the blade of Noora’s sword and into her arm. When she first picked up a sword she felt it was an inconvenient weapon. For one, you had to face your enemy head-on, you had to be close to them in order to fight, which was slightly out of her comfort zone, regarding the fact that she usually hunted with an arrow and bow.

But it was not only the lack of distance that made it impractical. The sword was heavy, made out of iron or silver, and the weapon carried a lot of weight, especially the long sword the palace provided her with. It drew her arm down and made her hits sloppy and she usually missed her target.

Over time her arm grew tired and it felt like small ants were crawling up her skin until she was unable to hold the blade up any longer.

Noora got used to the weight and the new way in which she had to shift her weight and balance her hits against her opponent. Still, she preferred her bow.

The swords collided again and Noora let out a grunt.

“That is probably the first sound you made in twenty minutes,” Pika said as he parried her next hit.

Noora ignored him and tried to attack again and again, even though she knew it would not drive him out into the open. For Pika’s height and weight, he was dramatically elegant in handling a sword fight, and if he wasn’t so skilled, Noora might’ve mocked him for it.

He wielded the sword as if it were a part of him, an elongation of his strong arms. His moves were precise and executed carefully,his eyes flickering around like he was anticipating her every next step.

“There does not need to be talking during a fight,” she said through gritted teeth as Pika gifted her with a particularly hard hit.

Shifting her feet, she tried to ignore Kekoa and Sören, who were training on the residential path in the royal garden, the collisions of their weapons a constant background noise.

They decided to train outside, now that the merciless wind settled down enough so they wouldn’t catch a lung infection.

“Still, it is unusual for you not to excuse your lame hits and slacking posture.” Pika grinned, sweat trailing down his temples. Noora knew he was goading her and disappointingly, she was stupid enough to indulge him.

Feigning a left strike she jumped between different stances, Pika grunting at her fast hits before he found himself chin to her blade.

“What did you say?” Noora asked him with a satisfied glint in her eyes. She proceeded to hold the tip of her blade just shy of his chin and he let his sword clatter to the ground before he held up both his hands. “All right, you do not owe me any answers.”

Her gaze flickered towards Sören whose knees were looking like they would cave in on themselves any moment. Kekoa looked more than bored with his fighting partner that he yet again outshined.

“Maybe you could give me some answers.” Noora let her sword sink as Pika reached for the pile of towels they brought with them outside, alongside two carafes of water. “Sure,” he said while offering Noora her towel and using his own to rid his forehead of sweat.

Throwing her sword away, she took the offered towel and nodded over to Kekoa and Sören, who were currently watched by a third party.

“Who is he and why is he on the jury for the tournament?”

Pika’s gaze flickered toward the imposing Sosye trailing left to right as he watched Kekoa’s strategy closely. His strong arms were clasped behind his upper body, muscles flexing. They were the size of a log and Noora believed being in a headlock in those arms meant an instant death.

“His name is Koa-Ailani, he is the high chief of the Sosye clan residing close to the border of Oy Frossen,” Pika offered indifferently.

Noora watched the witch hunter from afar, he was dressed in a long cloak, the edges of his collar lined with fur just as the edges of the sleeves. Noora did not need to wonder if it was real fur or not.

His hair was braided once again, resting on his broad back, his already dark eyes lined with coal, the jagged scar distorting half his face.

“Why would a high chief participate in something as silly as this tournament?” Noora asked.

“Witch hunting might not be allowed in Oy Frossen but to have the royal family on your good side is not a stupid thing to do. As far as I have heard the Sosye clans have been gathering over time, now that the king considers an alliance with the South Kingdom it drew their interest.”

Koa-Ailani caught Noora’s gaze and she quickly glanced away, feeling herself start to tremble with the knowledge that his attention was still on her. He could smell her blood even from that far away and she bet that he just needed a small knife that he could throw and it would land straight in her heart.

“Are they afraid?” she asked Pika just to divert herself from her gruesome imagery.

“Are Sosye ever afraid?” He raised a brow and Noora huffed out a breath.

“I would probably do the same,” Pika said as he took a sip of water before continuing, his throat bobbing with his swallows. “If the South Kingdom and Oy Frossen build an alliance they are practically a world power, they could eviscerate the whole people of witch hunters on this continent.”

Noora put down her towel. “But why would they? Oy Frossen is not in any feuds with the witch hunters, wouldn’t it be a waste to fight them? No matter how outnumbered they are.”

“Well, despite them not being in any wars, the traditions and the way the Sosye live is out of the ordinary for the people who live here. They are seen as brutish and improper, they believe in Pele, a different god than the royal family does, and regarding their extravagant clothing it seems just like the cherry on top.”

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