She should have known better.
Next, he escorted her to the spacious training pen where Hawkvale’s personal guards practiced their weapon work. He paired her with her guard from the day before, Trenton, and had them run drills. Or more accurately, Trenton pushed Shea back and forth across the arena as Shea had yet to successfully block any move he had thrown at her.
He would attack and she would stumble back. Rinse and repeat. For hours. By the time it was over, she collapsed onto the small cot Fallon had stationed in his quarters, too tired to offer even a token protest. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow. The next morning she woke to more of the same.
This routine continued for several weeks. At the crack of dawn, Shea was up and attending to Fallon. Getting his breakfast, carrying the water for his bath, dressing him. Once he left for council meetings or to inspect his warriors, Shea was released to Caden and the old man’s care. Each day they invented new ways to test the limits on Shea’s endurance.
She lost toenails because of the distances they made her run and became a walking bruise from the number of blows Trenton landed.
The day’s training always ended the same way, with Shea sparring against Trenton. Currently, the blade trembled in Shea’s grip as she fought to stay standing. If she could just block one blow, she might be able to get through this with a small piece of her pride intact.
Another bead of sweat dripped into her eye, and she shook her head, blinking rapidly. Trenton moved forward, taking advantage of the moment’s distraction. Shea brought her blade up, parrying his blow. The next moment the world spun as she flew before landing hard. She blinked dumbly at the sky, noting distantly that it was a perfect day for cloud gazing. The white pieces of fluff danced and swirled in time to the wind.
Caden’s head imposed itself between her and the sky.
“Have you had enough?”
Yes. Most definitely yes. She’d been ready to quit this test after getting hit in the face with the sand-filled ball, and definitely after the second time she’d landed face first in the dirt during the weapon’s test.
It was an odd thing to ask, though, considering his earlier threats.
“You’re trying to get me to give up,” she said in realization. “The last few weeks have been to get me to reconsider becoming Hawkvale’s Tolroi.”
“It would certainly be a lot easier than this.”
“Was this his idea?”
Caden gave one of those shrugs again. One that meant neither yes nor no and left her to draw her own conclusion.
“I can’t. That’s not who I am.”
“Guess I can respect that.”
Didn’t mean he agreed with it. This day was probably going to get a lot worst before the end.
“You should find your feet. The old man likes to kick people when they’re down, and all of his recruits have been trained to do the same.”
Shea grunted. She didn’t think she could get up again.
The man who had been beating, oh excuse me, sparring with her, took several determined steps towards her, and she popped to her feet. Guess she could get up after all.
He grinned and raised his blade. She brought hers up to a defensive position. It wasn’t easy. The muscles in her shoulders and arms trembled with the effort.
“Try to block this time,” the old man shouted at her from his seat on a barrel.
Shea ignored him. If she had taken her focus off the man in front of her for even a moment, he would have nailed her three times with his wooden practice sword. He’d done it twice today. Anytime her attention wavered he punish her with three quick blows. Her wrist and thigh still ached from the last time.
Trenton led with a butterfly cut, which Shea blocked before dancing to the side and parrying with a slash. He blocked and twisted his wrist, sliding his blade along hers and forcing it out of his way. The tables turned and her attack quickly became a race to defend herself as he used his blade’s momentum to lunge forward.
She blocked its forward motion but stumbled back and nearly fell when her ankle wobbled from stepping on a loose pebble.
With a movement she felt rather than saw, he knocked her blade from her hand and rapped her harshly on the offending ankle.
Pain lunged up her leg. She gritted her teeth, her eyes smarting. She would not cry. Not in front of these men. That just wasn’t going to happen.
Trenton stepped back and looked over at the old man who watched them sourly.
“You know, that blade in your hands isn’t merely for show,” the old man told her. “You can attack at any time.”
A chorus of laughter came from the gathered onlookers. Most were here to watch the little Lowlander’s abilities tested against one of their best. Some had come convinced they were in for a good show. After all, this was the woman who rescued their warlord, not once but twice.
“Perhaps she needs a lesson in how to hold a sword,” a woman’s voice shouted from the crowd. “You know how soft these Lowlanders’ hands are.”
Trenton stood relaxed, his sword held casually at his side while he waited for Shea to get enough motivation to raise her sword again. She didn’t want to. Not at all. Her arms and shoulders begged for a reprieve.
Rather than attack head on as she had been for the last couple of hours, she waited, with her sword down, and observed Trenton. Since he wasn’t immediately following up with another flurry of attacks, she planned to use this time to think.
Sword play wasn’t her strong suit. It never had been. She carried a sword because it had a longer reach than a dagger and came in handy when fighting off beasts. Part of her training had included work with the sword, but her trainers had mostly concentrated on defense and quick attacks that were a prelude to retreat. Most of her training had been spent gaining wilderness survival skills. You could get just as dead eating the wrong berry when your food ran out as you could with a blade in your gut. So swordplay had been covered but not extensively.
She had just enough skill to defend herself for a short period of time.
Fallon’s men, on the other hand, had extensive experience. The way Eamon told it, they were given a blade on their first birthday and spent the rest of their childhood learning to use it.
There was just no way her small amount of skill could match up to Trenton’s expertise. It made her wonder why Fallon wanted her as his guard in the first place. Even when she had been Shane, it would have been obvious she didn’t measure up to the others.
Trenton quickly moved towards her. The blade whistled through the air where her head had been. She ducked out of the way and then tripped when he shoved his foot into her path. She managed to turn the fall into a roll but had no time to recover as his wooden blade bit into the grass next to her head.
All of a sudden his attack stopped. He sighed and then went back to where he’d originally stood.
Shea got her feet cautiously and wiped her hands against her trousers.
Trenton’s head was turned slightly away from her and his eyes fixed on something behind her and to the right. She turned to look.
Fallon stood with his arms crossed over his muscular chest, watching the session.
So that’s why.
It was a little surprising considering Fallon was the one who’d ordered this stupid test. He’d practically given them free reign to do anything they wanted so long as they said it was part of the testing process.