In the torrent of rain, there was little to be seen or heard as the walnut sized drops of warm water sped toward the muddy ground in the darkness. The lanterns and torches of the sparring pit had been intentionally left unlit. Nastredin, slightly crouched and soaking wet with eyes closed, held a heavy wooden make-shift short-sword in her left hand, working to sense movement from her would-be attacker. Somewhere nearby was Nasir, waiting and watching impatiently. She had no trouble sensing that on any given day.
She and Tarl were all that remained in the exercise, as it had been the last fortnight. He had never defeated her. No one had. No one would. Nastredin was too strong. Nasir was only partially pleased because it would make the new recruits and the veterans better soldiers much more quickly and push out the weak. His frustration lay in that her technical prowess was improving too slowly by comparison. Skirmishes never lasted long enough for her to be pushed to a breaking point, never allowed for the skills to be linked. Nasir needed for that to happen and often, bringing them to train in the storm, using her off-hand to wield the wooded blade.
Nastredin heard the slapping sound of footsteps rushing at her. She exhaled, waiting, waiting... The tip of the sword blade swiped her upper right arm; Tarl had lost his footing momentarily. Nastredin opened her eyes to discover that he had not been coming from the direction she had anticipated. He was smiling now at the small victory. Nastredin turned unphased to face him.
Tarl had drawn blood. A collective fog of tension bloomed around them from the warriors and commanders. When Nastredin did not attack, Tarl lunged forward at her, sword aimed at her gut. With her wooden short sword, Nastredin slapped the steel aside and soundly punched Tarl in the chest, caught him under the arm to hold him up with the practice sword, kneed him in the gut, head-butted him in the nose and let him fall to the ground. A mix of relieved sighs and surprised gasps was muffled by the rain.
Tarl's mistake, the mistake of those witnessing the final bout, was believing she cared that Tarl had wounded her. Nastredin did not care. It was irrelevant and necessary. She stood at rigid attention beside the collapsed body of Tarl when Nasir approached. He stopped an arm's length from her, topaz eyes locking on to hers.
"Help young Tarl, see that his nose and ego are set right. Light the lanterns and see that your quarters have ample fires. Dry and warm yourselves and take your rest. Do not be mistaken that in war you will have these luxuries, use this opportunity as a reminder in the future, that once, you were comfortable." Nasir almost smiled. The tension shifted to anticipation. "I need every one of you healthy, however, to continue your training the day after next. Spend tomorrow seeing to your weapons and gear. You are dismissed."
Several men rushed to carry Tarl off to the healers, the others raced to their quarters to get out of their wet gear and get dry. The commander and his dog had not moved, their gaze unwavered. His dog stood patiently waiting for her master.
Nasir closed the distance between them, bowed his head and clasped his hands behind his back.
"It means little to you now and there never may come a time when you fear death. You must determine for yourself what the value of your life is to you. We do not know yet what if there is a purpose for your strengths, or even if it matters." Nasir said only just loud enough for Nastredin to hear. "The men fear you, they are intimidated and rightfully so. This is an asset in the battles to come. All will come to fear you and in time, some will come to follow you because of your power. Give care how you come to embrace this and be mindful of friend and foe alike."
Nastredin nodded her head.
"There is another matter I wish to discuss with you, it requires discretion and privacy. We will meet in my chambers shortly. Go dry yourself. I will send for you." Nasir instructed.
Again, Nastredin nodded and did as she was ordered.
Nasir hastily dried himself before the fire, his flesh cold and damp and would continue to be for some time.
"Be quick with the advice, please. I have much on my mind." Nasir said to the troll shaman, observing casually in the corner. "Is this what it's like for her then, always under scrutiny, even during the most mundane tasks?" Nasir pulled a loose undershirt over his head.
"The whispers have begun moving between the castle and barracks. They have yet to reach the throne room, but it can't be long now."
"If I report to Manzinus, it will be more suspicious and enflame his curiosity. The King cannot and must not interfere." Nasir picked up his wet clothes and draped them over the drying rods.
"That is completely understood. I would caution you, as your friend in this instance, to bring her closer is dangerous but if you don't do it soon, it may be too late once he takes an interest."
"How close?" Nasir replied in frustration. "How close is too close before it leads to suspicion and distrust among the men?"
"That, my friend, is already occurin'. It matters not, the commanders'll know how to maneuver opinions and the men trust you and if she is everything you believe her to be, enough of the soldiers will keep the fools in line." Glukarok sighed and handed Nasir a cup of ale. "Once the raids begin, there will be no time for it."
"It's far easier to be convincing when the truth is the truth."
"If this girl is a power, then the real truth is that it matters that she is yours and that her loyalty lies solely with you. How you get there and how deep the bond, that's up to you, you'll get no issue from me or those who back you. With all that's to come, I'm less concerned with how she'll fare at warring than I am with her remaining undivided and untainted once the king's mind and his witch's magic begins spinning."
Nasir smiled. "It sounds like we're plotting,"
"I know a hunting hound when I see one and I mean no disrespect to the girl. She's almost charmin' in 'er own way, she don't tawk much en' thets no complaint from me. She wants to learn, she works 'ard en' she ain't cock proud but she ain't intimidated by her own strength or anyone, not even you." Glukorak approached his friend and placed a large troll hand on Nasir's shoulder. "Better too close than not close enough."
Nasir nodded and took a large drink of ale. "Tell her to pack a bag. Let Fawz know the dog and I will be gone a few days. And make sure no one calls her that to her face. Or to mine. Handle the whispers properly please, no oil on that fire. She needs the instruction and I need to bring her... closer."
Glukorak choked on his own laughter. "You make it sound like some kind of tortcha. She ain't some flea bitten guttah whore, she ain't less than half soothing on the eyes among this lawt. Then there's you with your grossly golden skin en rugged charm." Glukorak couldn't contain his laughter as Nasir was attempting to remain serious.
"It's all right for you tah loik 'er."
"Would you be saying the same if she were a man?" Nasir raised an eyebrow.
"But she ain't one, so we'll never know. She had a rough road that led 'er here, no denoyin'. But there ain't no shame in a bargain- she gets to see sides of you most of us try to avoid,"
Nasir started to laugh, Glukorak stuck a finger in Nasir's chest, at his heart. "In here, ya cheeky wank, en' all the rest, if it builds to that. You're not going to piss any of this away because of love, don't be daft. But thah girl is War like I ain't seen since I met you and I don't doubt that no one walkin' this world is more War. But just like you, thah ain't all she is and she deserves to know that there's more to others than those scumrats she sent back to the Gods in farmtown."
"Agreed. Now get out, find my dog." Nasir smirked.
**********
Five months it had been since Nastredin had arrived in Demonax, five months since she'd been outside it's walls. There'd been little time to think of anything more than training and Nasir.
She and Tarl were all that remained in the exercise, as it had been the last fortnight. He had never defeated her. No one had. No one would. Nastredin was too strong. Nasir was only partially pleased because it would make the new recruits and the veterans better soldiers much more quickly and push out the weak. His frustration lay in that her technical prowess was improving too slowly by comparison. Skirmishes never lasted long enough for her to be pushed to a breaking point, never allowed for the skills to be linked. Nasir needed for that to happen and often, bringing them to train in the storm, using her off-hand to wield the wooded blade.
Nastredin heard the slapping sound of footsteps rushing at her. She exhaled, waiting, waiting... The tip of the sword blade swiped her upper right arm; Tarl had lost his footing momentarily. Nastredin opened her eyes to discover that he had not been coming from the direction she had anticipated. He was smiling now at the small victory. Nastredin turned unphased to face him.
Tarl had drawn blood. A collective fog of tension bloomed around them from the warriors and commanders. When Nastredin did not attack, Tarl lunged forward at her, sword aimed at her gut. With her wooden short sword, Nastredin slapped the steel aside and soundly punched Tarl in the chest, caught him under the arm to hold him up with the practice sword, kneed him in the gut, head-butted him in the nose and let him fall to the ground. A mix of relieved sighs and surprised gasps was muffled by the rain.
Tarl's mistake, the mistake of those witnessing the final bout, was believing she cared that Tarl had wounded her. Nastredin did not care. It was irrelevant and necessary. She stood at rigid attention beside the collapsed body of Tarl when Nasir approached. He stopped an arm's length from her, topaz eyes locking on to hers.
"Help young Tarl, see that his nose and ego are set right. Light the lanterns and see that your quarters have ample fires. Dry and warm yourselves and take your rest. Do not be mistaken that in war you will have these luxuries, use this opportunity as a reminder in the future, that once, you were comfortable." Nasir almost smiled. The tension shifted to anticipation. "I need every one of you healthy, however, to continue your training the day after next. Spend tomorrow seeing to your weapons and gear. You are dismissed."
Several men rushed to carry Tarl off to the healers, the others raced to their quarters to get out of their wet gear and get dry. The commander and his dog had not moved, their gaze unwavered. His dog stood patiently waiting for her master.
Nasir closed the distance between them, bowed his head and clasped his hands behind his back.
"It means little to you now and there never may come a time when you fear death. You must determine for yourself what the value of your life is to you. We do not know yet what if there is a purpose for your strengths, or even if it matters." Nasir said only just loud enough for Nastredin to hear. "The men fear you, they are intimidated and rightfully so. This is an asset in the battles to come. All will come to fear you and in time, some will come to follow you because of your power. Give care how you come to embrace this and be mindful of friend and foe alike."
Nastredin nodded her head.
"There is another matter I wish to discuss with you, it requires discretion and privacy. We will meet in my chambers shortly. Go dry yourself. I will send for you." Nasir instructed.
Again, Nastredin nodded and did as she was ordered.
Nasir hastily dried himself before the fire, his flesh cold and damp and would continue to be for some time.
"Be quick with the advice, please. I have much on my mind." Nasir said to the troll shaman, observing casually in the corner. "Is this what it's like for her then, always under scrutiny, even during the most mundane tasks?" Nasir pulled a loose undershirt over his head.
"The whispers have begun moving between the castle and barracks. They have yet to reach the throne room, but it can't be long now."
"If I report to Manzinus, it will be more suspicious and enflame his curiosity. The King cannot and must not interfere." Nasir picked up his wet clothes and draped them over the drying rods.
"That is completely understood. I would caution you, as your friend in this instance, to bring her closer is dangerous but if you don't do it soon, it may be too late once he takes an interest."
"How close?" Nasir replied in frustration. "How close is too close before it leads to suspicion and distrust among the men?"
"That, my friend, is already occurin'. It matters not, the commanders'll know how to maneuver opinions and the men trust you and if she is everything you believe her to be, enough of the soldiers will keep the fools in line." Glukarok sighed and handed Nasir a cup of ale. "Once the raids begin, there will be no time for it."
"It's far easier to be convincing when the truth is the truth."
"If this girl is a power, then the real truth is that it matters that she is yours and that her loyalty lies solely with you. How you get there and how deep the bond, that's up to you, you'll get no issue from me or those who back you. With all that's to come, I'm less concerned with how she'll fare at warring than I am with her remaining undivided and untainted once the king's mind and his witch's magic begins spinning."
Nasir smiled. "It sounds like we're plotting,"
"I know a hunting hound when I see one and I mean no disrespect to the girl. She's almost charmin' in 'er own way, she don't tawk much en' thets no complaint from me. She wants to learn, she works 'ard en' she ain't cock proud but she ain't intimidated by her own strength or anyone, not even you." Glukorak approached his friend and placed a large troll hand on Nasir's shoulder. "Better too close than not close enough."
Nasir nodded and took a large drink of ale. "Tell her to pack a bag. Let Fawz know the dog and I will be gone a few days. And make sure no one calls her that to her face. Or to mine. Handle the whispers properly please, no oil on that fire. She needs the instruction and I need to bring her... closer."
Glukorak choked on his own laughter. "You make it sound like some kind of tortcha. She ain't some flea bitten guttah whore, she ain't less than half soothing on the eyes among this lawt. Then there's you with your grossly golden skin en rugged charm." Glukorak couldn't contain his laughter as Nasir was attempting to remain serious.
"It's all right for you tah loik 'er."
"Would you be saying the same if she were a man?" Nasir raised an eyebrow.
"But she ain't one, so we'll never know. She had a rough road that led 'er here, no denoyin'. But there ain't no shame in a bargain- she gets to see sides of you most of us try to avoid,"
Nasir started to laugh, Glukorak stuck a finger in Nasir's chest, at his heart. "In here, ya cheeky wank, en' all the rest, if it builds to that. You're not going to piss any of this away because of love, don't be daft. But thah girl is War like I ain't seen since I met you and I don't doubt that no one walkin' this world is more War. But just like you, thah ain't all she is and she deserves to know that there's more to others than those scumrats she sent back to the Gods in farmtown."
"Agreed. Now get out, find my dog." Nasir smirked.
**********
Five months it had been since Nastredin had arrived in Demonax, five months since she'd been outside it's walls. There'd been little time to think of anything more than training and Nasir.
