Page 101 of A Tribute of Fire

I hoped I could put on a good enough show. The task seemed impossible.

Artemisia whirled her staff around in lazy circles as she observed me. The deadly look in her eyes was unmistakable.

She would kill me if the opportunity presented itself. And was there more of an opportunity than being engaged in combat?

I knew, without being told, that she had other weapons on her. I would have to start carrying my own and keep an eye on her during sparring.

Antiope explained the rules, and they were exactly the same as what Io had shared earlier. There would be points awarded for contact and if one opponent pushed the other out of the ring.

My heartbeat grew louder in my own ears as I prepared myself.

“Ready?” Antiope verified, and when we both nodded, she said, “Begin!”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

I braced, expecting an onslaught. Like what had happened in the flower garden—for Artemisia to attack immediately.

She didn’t do that, though. She continued to twirl her staff in a circle, pacing back and forth. Was she waiting for me to strike first? I wasn’t going to.

“Quit toying with your prey!” someone yelled from behind me, and it caused Artemisia’s smirk to widen.

She feinted at me and I instinctually responded, bringing my staff up to meet where hers would have been if she’d carried through with her jab.

She wasn’t just delaying. She was going to test me. She wanted to see where my weaknesses were, my reaction time.

“Hit her!” another person yelled, and I wasn’t sure which one of us they were talking to.

Although considering how they felt about Locrians, I assumed it was meant as encouragement for Artemisia.

“Keep your hands up, Lia!” That was definitely Zalira’s voice, and it was nice to know that I had my sisters supporting me.

Artemisia swiped at me and I reacted, again bringing my own staff up to prevent her from making contact with my body. Her eyes narrowed, absorbing this information.

Was I accidentally betraying my previous training? I glanced at Antiope, but her face remained passive.

Yesterday in the garden I had felt groggy and slow, whatever remedies administered to me by Daphne and Io still in my system.

That was not the situation today. I felt extremely alert, and that earlier attack had only heightened my senses, preparing me for a fight. I was ready.

And I couldn’t show that to anyone.

Artemisia stepped forward with her right foot and swung at me on my left side before quickly switching to my right.

I blocked her both times. I clenched my teeth. Demaratus had trained me too well.

She spun to her left and I could see the incoming blow, but I closed my eyes and held my own staff straight up while I waited, allowing her to land her strike.

“Oof,” I breathed out as her staff whacked me on my right shoulder. She hit really hard, much harder than I’d anticipated. That was definitely going to bruise.

“Point for Artemisia!” Antiope called out.

Would they separate us, have us start over? Apparently not, considering that Artemisia was again swiping at me and I instinctively jerked to my right to avoid the hit.

Should I try to strike her? Would it seem too unrealistic if I didn’t at least make the attempt?

I again heard my adelphia cheering for me and I was struck with a desire to not let them down.

But I didn’t have that option. Glancing down, I deliberately stepped out of bounds while trying to make it seem accidental.

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