“Better,” she said.
The two warriors faced off against each other, and Sapphire stared as she they spared in their full armor.
Sir Marcus’s sword was lit with the white fire of Dracor. An uncommon sight, but one she’d seen before. Like the night Sir Matthias had stood against the men attacking his family’s farm.
Mara’s sword, however, shimmered with black fire. Magic, Sapphire realized as it whispered over her flesh, dark magic.
Her mother had always told Sapphire that unlike the divinity wielded by the Knights of Valor, magic was gauche and only to be practiced by the working classes.
Nothing about Mara was gauche.
Powerful. Strong. Confident.
But not gauche.
Both warriors’ movements were quick and precise, and Sapphire winced as Mara blocked a blow from Sir Marcus that would’ve broken anyone else’s arm.
Pivoting, Mara swung at Sir Marcus’s feet, and the Hero of Tamryn leapt over her sword.
Sapphire only stared.
His armor weighed half as much as she did, if not more. The stories about him suddenly seemed a lot more real.
“Doing better, Knight,” Mara said.
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t say you were any good. Just better.”
Sir Marcus grinned. “Good enough to protect Brelynn on my own yet?”
Mara threw herself at the duke, sword blow after sword blow battering his shield. Mara dropped low, swiping at his feet, then brought her sword up under his shield. Sir Marcus fell back, and Mara succeeded at sweeping his legs out from underneath him. Sir Marcus rolled across the floor, and Mara’s sword missed him.
As Sir Marcus sprung back up, Mara walked over to the side table and drank his watered wine. She held up the empty glass to him. “No.”
Sir Marcus bowed. “Looks like someone else has come to challenge you.”
Mara’s cat-like eyes turned to Sapphire. “Brelynn mentioned teaching you self-defense.”
“I could never fight like that,” Sapphire whispered.
“You haven’t spent your life training for combat. Not sure what you have spent your life training for.”
Color stained Sapphire’s cheeks. She had no answer.
“I’m going to wash up and find Matthias and Brelynn.” Sir Marcus grinned. “He volunteered to help with last minute ball stuff, and I’m not a man to turn down a blessing from Dracor.”
“You don’t have to host this damned ball,” Mara growled. “It’d be better for Brelynn if you didn’t.”
Sir Marcus sobered. “If you really think that, I’ll talk to Aunt Matty.”
“I really think it, and so do you.” Mara crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re the one that put Brelynn in her predicament. You need to do whatever in the seven hells it takes to keep her safe.”
“And happy,” Sir Marcus said. “I’ll talk to her. You can work out your frustration with Sapphire.”
Mara only glared at the Knight.
“Sorry,” Sir Marcus whispered as he walked past Sapphire, and he looked like he meant it.
Sapphire watched him leave, then turned back to the red-haired woman. A chill shuddered across Sapphire as she considered that she was alone with an angry, armed, half-demon. Or whatever Mara was.
“I’m nowhere near your level,” Sapphire said as she edged toward the door.
“Your job isn’t to defeat me, but to defend yourselves from idiots that pass as hired muscle. I will help you do that.” Mara set aside her sword and shield and picked up two training swords. “We will start with these until I can gauge your ability.”
Sapphire glanced toward the stairs. “You and Sir Marcus are worried about Lady Brelynn.”
“Yes.”
Sapphire hefted her wooden sword and studied its balance. “Why? Is someone threatening her?”
“You’ve seen her. You know she’s with child.”
“Women have babies all the time.”
“She’s a sorceress. It’s different for them, especially if the child she carries is also a sorceress. Raise your sword and let’s begin.”
Sapphire did as ordered. While Mara was impressive, she was also helpful, showing rather than telling Sapphire what she was doing wrong. The occasional whack of the wooden sword on Sapphire’s thigh or arm when she didn’t learn a lesson also helped bring home Mara’s training.
Soon, Sapphire was exhausted and signaled for a break.
Mara nodded once, lowered her wooden sword, but never let go of it as she walked to the side table and poured herself a glass of watered wine.
Sapphire did the same, leaning against the table as she took a long swallow. Glancing over at the strange women, Sapphire didn’t sense malevolence, greed or hatred. Loyalty to Brelynn, yes, and a grudging respect for Sir Marcus, but not what she’d expect from a half-demon.
Sipping her watered wine, Sapphire glanced up at the dark clad warrior. “Do you think Brelynn’s child is a sorceress? Sir Marcus is impervious to magic.”
“I still believe the child is a sorceress.”
“Sorceress not sorcerer? No girls have been born to the Valerian line for a long time.”
“How many of them have had a child with a powerful sorceress before?”
Sapphire swirled the liquid in her cup. “Not a lot of sorceresses in Tamryn.”
“Not a lot where I’m from either, but more than here.”
“Do bad things happen when a sorceress gives birth to a sorceress?”
“Not necessarily, but there are some that would want such a child. I will protect Brelynn and her child from them. Even the Council of Seven.”
“Council of Seven?”
“Ruling body of Oskelez.”
Sapphire shivered. “What would the Council of Seven want with a sorceress? Aren’t they all immensely powerful in their own right?”
Mara lifted her shoulders. “Enough of such things. They won’t make you a better fighter.”
Sapphire knew there was something the warrior wasn’t telling her, just as she knew Mara would reveal no more. Reaching for her wooden sword, Sapphire resumed the stance she’d just learned.
Sir Matthias lounged in the doorway with Desa perched on his shoulders as he watched Mara spar with Sapphire. The ebony-clad warrior could have trounced Sapphire, but she worked with the heiress on form and technique, showing Sapphire how to use her smaller size to unbalance a larger and stronger opponent.
Matthias also noticed Mara slightly favored her right side. Years of tending injured Knights of Valor had honed his ability to see injuries stubbornness or pride made them want to conceal.
Mara must have been practicing with Sir Marcus again.
The ebony-clad warrior stepped back from the sparring match, easily deflecting Sapphire’s blow. “Sir Matthias, what brings you and the child down to join us?”
“Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You already did.”
“Then let me make up for it.” He walked over to Mara, a prayer on his lips as the golden glow formed in his hand. He touched her right side, and she frowned at him as the glow transferred from him to her. “Bruised rib. Painful, but not serious.”
“You heal as well as a Priestess of Thalia. I didn’t think that possible.”