Chapter 19

chapter Nineteen

She was glad he wasn't paying much attention. She suddenly felt really hot. He often practiced without his shirt and watching him fight was amazing. He was amazing. She learned a lot too. He always spoke to the others with such care and made sure they understood what he was saying. "One of these days, I'm going to convince you I should train to fight too."

"Oh, you will. I just want to get your father on board. Though I'm not expecting a battle there." He flashed her a smile and offered her his arm as they walked through the palace. Damion left her on the field as he went to the armory for a fake sword. As usual, when she came down with him, he left his sword with her. Today, her father sat on the bench she usually watched from.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you here." His ice blue gaze met her eyes, but as usual there were no words. "Did you know Damion is finally going to see if he can release you from the curse?" His mouth twitched into a near smile. Volencia reached out, covering his hand with hers, "He's also asked Gregron if I could accompany him to Samanthia. I'm hoping you'll let me go?" As that smile deepened, her heart soared. Squeezing his hand, she went quiet as Damion walked out onto the field, holding a long stick.

"I asked you all to be prepared for this. I presume you are." The hundred men standing before him called out, each one brandishing a similar stick. "Good. We're going to see how you fight an opponent with a better weapon than you. Cunning and wit are important in this exercise. When it's your turn, you will need to be able to move faster and think faster than the man with the sword. Gregron, if you don't mind?"

The Captain of the Guard stepped forward, training sword in hand. The men cheered for their favorite. Usually, most cheered for the Captain, but today, many cheered for Damion.

Gregron moved first. The fight looked like an intricate dance every time they lunged. Neither of them ever won though. They usually only went on for a few minutes until they switched places. Gregron wasn't as versed with the switch and struggled. There was a moment when Damion took three quick advances and Gregron nearly lost his footing and Damion held up his hand. "Alright. This is a quick move where you may have a hard time blocking. Keep in mind, they'll have steel." He handed his sword to Gregron, taking the weapon from him. "I want you to advance. No mercy. They should know this is real."

Nodding, Gregron advanced. After a few quick jabs, he advanced. Damion blocked two before feinting the opposite way. With the advance already on, Gregron didn't have a chance to redirect and Damion ended up at his back. When he hooked Gregron's legs, taking him down. He made a show of fake whacking him in the throat before turning to the crowd.

"This is not your only move, but it's a personal favorite. Remember, I live with Samanthians, they are larger than you and your opponent will be expecting this. If you pull this off, I'll be impressed, if you find another opening, I'll be double impressed. Pair off."

As his contingents partnered up, Damion ran over to them, something he didn't normally do when she was watching alone. "I told you I could fight like a Samanthian. I hope this eases your mind." Her father held out his hand and Damion took it. "Good." He smiled, nodding to Volencia before trotting off after his group.

"You seem to have a system with him. He understands you in a way I cannot." Volencia looked at her father. He squeezed her hand, but barely looked at her. "Did you love my mother?" As his hand squeezed hers, she realized what Damion had figured. They were communicating. In a way Volencia had never even thought of. Not until Damion showed up.

"Did I do the right thing with them? A month has already passed and I'm scared." Venron squeezed her hand again, also turning those cold blue eyes on her. She was sad she hadn't thought of doing this earlier. "Thank you." She whispered, wiping away the start of tears in her eyes. Her stomach started to roll, and she pressed her hand to it, trying to calm her nerves.

Her father's head turned forward toward the fighting again. Gregron and Damion wove between the men, a few times, his eyes wandered back to her, a smile playing at his lips.

The Captain and Damion watched each pair individually, some numerous times. Damion cut an impressive figure, walking around his men wearing no shirt, just a towel he would wipe himself with here and there. Gregron rarely worked outside his uniform, but today was different. Both had scares, but the elder's were far worse. None of the soldiers that were commanded here were seasoned, so they only bore the bruising from their peers, or what their Captain had done to them. Sometimes, Damion would jump in to spare with them, and show them what they could do, or what they did wrong. Just watching him teaching them helped her understand fighting better.

When one particular young soldier lost with his switch numerous times, Damion went to him to offer advice. It wasn't received well. Throwing his like a javelin, his voice rose above the hum of battle. "This is stupid! We are elves in the royal army learning to fight like heathens. It's pointless to learn to fight with a damn stick. You say it's in case we lose our weapon, but no good soldier will just lay down his blade during battle. This stupid wooden board wouldn't do much against cold hard steel anyway."

Damion cocked his head to the side, his eyes trained coldly on the boy. He was even younger than she and Damion, who only shrugged. "Then leave this training. If you feel it's barbaric and unnecessary. It is your Captain who requested I come here for you in the first place."

The boy waived him off, walking back toward the barracks. A few others dropped their weapons to join him. "He only wanted to show off without a shirt in front of our Princess anyway."

"Before you go," Damion leaned on his switch, looking unimpressed, shaking his head, "I'll have you know. I go shirtless so that you can see these scars. Proof I'm not an untested child, as many of you see regardless. I'm not much older than many of you, younger in some cases. But not untested. Tell me, Tatron, have you ever woken in the middle of the night to your family and friends screaming? Watching them bleed to death in your arms?" He started pacing, and more than half the company was enthralled.

Those that were walking away with Tatron stopped, dead hold, turning.

"That's what I woke up to. We'd trained every day. With swords, bow and arrow, dagger, knives, spears, everything we had." He paused, his back to them. When he finally turned, there was fire in his eyes. "Yet, in the night, when we least expected it, our shield failed." He threw the towel into the dust at his feet. "That was the night I gained many of these." He pointed to the scars, "Night creatures, the like of which have had grown men piss themselves. They were upon us. The warriors from our village were on a hunt, so we were all that stood against them. I was a child. My brother also a child. We fought. There was no time to get to our weapons. No time to find a safe hold. It was now or death. I watched women and children younger than myself fight for their lives. I watched them die slow deaths. You know what my most valuable weapon was?"

Many of the men shook their heads. Tatron stopped walking, nearly to the barracks.

"Logs. Sticks. Most half burned. My brotheren and I stood against those monsters and we saved the village. Our houses burned, our village destroyed and in the middle of a forest with nowhere to run. No weapons were attainable that night, tucked safely in my bed. I was well younger than anyone of you standing here now with me. So, when I tell you, you must be prepared for anything, I do not lie. We learned. Just as your Captain," He waved his arm at Gregron who nodded, standing stiff and firm as ever, "wants you to learn."

Tatron crossed his arms, smiling. "You learned how to use sticks against mice. Here we're learning to fight armies. We're not children."

"No. You're not." Damion nodded, taking his switch in hand. "But I'm ready. Go. Get your steel. If you do, you had best come at me with all you've got. For I promise you, it will not be enough." As he walked into the training field, he dropped his weapon at his feet and turned. Yelling at the men. "If he does not come at me, one of you others should. We'll see what it looks like to fight steel against wood." He turned, sitting in the dirt, his back to the others the switch laying out of arms reach,

The soldiers talked; someone would need to try to fight him. To leave such an easy challenge left un-called, would be shameful to all of them in turn. Gregron motioned to them, awaiting someone who would step up. Tatron threw his training sword down. "You want someone? I'll do it. We'll prove who can do better." He stomped toward a young soldier who had a sword at his hip,

Volencia put her hands to her mouth and gasped. "This can't be right or safe." Venron's hand turned up. If it was something he had done in the past, she'd not noticed before. Grabbing her hand in his, he squeezed again, apparently believing in Damion more than she did. So, she watched. Waiting. Afraid.

Damion simply waited.

Tatron drew his sword. Walking toward Damion. Gregron threw an arm out. "You didn't know this, but he did something similar with me, it's the reason I wanted you all to train with him. Your reach won't be as long as his, keep that in mind as you fight him."

Volencia yearned to yell at Gregron, to tell him not to say anything more. She didn't though. He took on the Council and won, she had to believe he knew what he was doing. For the first time, Tatron looked nervous.

Clamping his fist, he made his way toward Damion. As he closed in, Damion stood. His hands in his pockets. "I was trying to give you a chance to sneak up on me. But stomping around like that is no way to do it."

"You think you're quick. But you don't stand a chance."

The smile that crossed Damion's face took Volencia's breath away. It was the same smile he wore the day he faced the Council. Terrifying in its own right.