Chapter 4

Soon he drew his sword and began a series of exercises. I’d done quite a bit of sword training, of course, but I’d never felt the need for daily practice. I supposed that was one reason why he’d bested me. But then assassins aren’t supposed to fight fair duels. If he hadn’t heard me coming, I’d have simply stabbed him in the back and that would be that.

Still, maybe I could use a little bit of practice. I started limbering up, away from him, in my own space. Raneld looked over at me and nodded approvingly. When I got out my own sword, I attempted to copy some of what he was doing. The regular, dance-like moves seemed simple enough, but following them was harder than it looked. I swiftly grew frustrated and fell back on some of the drills I remembered from first learning swordplay.

He looked at me again with a hint of a smile. I suddenly wanted to wipe that smile off of his face. I was not his friend, and I was not his inferior, to be smiled at like that.