Page 33 of The Huntsman's Heart
She begins by running through the movements Évandre showed her. He is the most skilled of us with a weapon. Oftentimes Corvin and I would fight with our bare hands, swooping down to snap the necks of our enemies or scratch with sharp claws.
She moves gracefully, already more fluid and natural with her sword. It is too long for her, but she compensates well, and it is the best we can do. I wish we could have a special blade made for her, but, of course, that is impossible.
Today she is finished quickly with the drills and calls Évandre over. “I want a real opponent. I am ready.”
My tail flicks against the stone of the wall where I sit, but thankfully Évandre shakes his head. “Not yet, princess.”
I relax back into my seat, but as I do, Corvin picks up a sword from the array we laid out for the princess, swiping it through the air in a few practice strokes to loosen up his muscles. “Do you think this huntsman is going to go easy on her if he comes? Do you think he will hold back because she’s not ready? I doubt it. Come, princess. I will fight you."
The princess turns to him, knees bent, sword at the ready. She already moves like a warrior. I worry still. One failed parry…
“She cannot die,” calls Corvin when he catches sight of the nervous expression on my face. “Stop worrying.”
“I do not like it.”
Ignoring me, he strides forward, thrusting a blow which the princess easily deflects. Unable to sit still, I leap from the wall, lingering impatiently by the edge of their training ground. My chest tightens every time my brother lunges, every time theprincess must dodge and parry. It excites me to see her fighting back, but she is still far slower than Corvin. He easily outpaces her.
He lazily blocks a blow aimed at his neck, spinning and slicing with his sword and narrowly missing her belly. The princess laughs aloud and redoubles her efforts until she finally has him on the retreat. Just as she gets close, he leaps into the air, beating his wings once then tucking them and twisting to land directly behind her. I dart forward, pushing him roughly out of the way into the dirt before he can continue his attack. “You do not fight fair!”
The princess spins, her sword arcing through the air directly at my face, and I’m forced to duck quickly or lose my head.
Her eyes widen. “Raban! What are you doing?”
Corvin stands, brushing dirt from himself and scowling at me. “Yes, Raban, what are you doing?”
“I do not like it. This is not our purpose.”
Corvin takes a step closer, chest puffed out, and I know he is ready to argue, but I stand my ground.
Évandre strides over and places a hand on both our shoulders. “Enough. The princess has asked us to help her train. To serve is our purpose.”
I sigh, looking to her for a resolution. “There is no need to worry,” she says gently. “I am not made of glass. But if it will make you feel better, why not be my shield bearer? You can step in if things become too dangerous.”
Standing close to her to protect her does not sound so arduous. I nod hesitantly. “If it pleases you.”
“You are so sweet to worry about me,” she says. “But I am stronger than I have ever been. And Corvin is right. Alaric will not fight honorably. That much I know.”
“You do not have to fight him,” I tell her. “We could take care of him for you.”
“No. I must. I will never let anyone take power from me again.”
Guinevere
My muscles burn as I swing the heavy sword. I’ve been training with Évandre in the courtyard for longer each night, and each night my blows land with more force. Each night I can keep going for longer before I’m forced to stop.
The sword swishes in a neat arc and slices straight into the wooden shield Corvin carved as Évandre holds it up to parry my blow. “Good. I felt that.”
I pull it back and admire the chunk of wood missing from the shield. “One more.”
Évandre shakes his head with a smile. “No more, princess. That’s enough for today. You will be too sore tomorrow if I push you too hard today.”
I let out a growl of frustration, but he’s right. And consistency in my training is important. “Very well. But will we continue tomorrow?”
He grins. “Naturally. I look forward to it.”
Corvin takes the weapons to store, and I lift my arms, stretching sore shoulders. Raban alights so softly beside me I jump when I turn to see him there. He had been watching from the walls. I’m glad he has relaxed more now that my skills have improved. Apart from a few nasty cuts which healed quickly, I have escaped relatively unscathed and do not think Évandre or Corvin have held back. That’s in part due to his care of me with the shield, but since I have improved, he has taken to seeing to my sore muscles afterward.
Now he smiles at me. “You are making good progress. Soon you will be able to overpower Évandre.”
