ale peeled herself off of the ground, forcing herself to make no sound and not to falter. To do so would give Demen the pleasure of thinking she was hurt. She picked up the wooden sparring stick from where she had dropped it and resumed circling the warrior. Demen was grinning at her, moving only to watch her as she approached cautiously, stick held rigidly before her, almost as if it would bite. Demen rushed at her with a ferocious roar, stick whistling through the air. Dale danced aside and sprang away, ducking his repeated attempts to strike her.

“You know, Dale, the whole point of this is to teach you how to spar, not how to evade. You are rather good at that already. So when I try to hit you, try using the stick to block me.”

Her ribs were still aching from the last time she had followed his instructions. She approached again and this time raised the stick when he lunged forward. Her wrists ached at the impact and she barely reacted in time to block a second attack. The third attack she twisted her shoulders and moved smoothly to avoid what would have been another sound drubbing to her sides.

“Dammit Dale…fight me or just run away if you don’t want to learn.”

“I don’t want to be hit.”

“Then engage in swordplay. I am moving pretty slow, just watch me.”

She narrowed her eyes at him; he was not in any way slow. He moved like the wind even though she knew he was trying to be easy on her. She held up the stick again and this time Demen came over to her and checked her grip.

“Ok…first of all it’s a wooden sword, so loosen up a little. It is an expression of your wrist’s movement…not a club.” He bent her arm and showed her how the weapon should move. “See? Fast and light…swords are like feathers…you don’t need to keep them steady like a bow. Now…if you are good…and I know you can improve, when I hit you hard like that, you just move it back like this and let my attack slide off…see?”

“I’ll try.”

“You’ll learn, I know, it’s just if I see you slide into your habit of running from a toe to toe fight, I will come after you, and you will end up on the ground. So be warned.”

Demen stepped away from her and Dale did her best to keep her grip a bit looser than she would have liked. She was afraid that the warrior’s first attack would just send it flying out of her hand. She glanced up to see Daneska and Hebek watching from the shade. Serul was also there, dozing in the shallows of one of the muddy pools in the canyon.

“Alright Dale.” Demen bowed to her and she faced him, returning the gesture. He made the first move, slicing across and over the level of her weapon. She lifted and pushed it aside, feeling a sense of accomplishment as Demon’s weapon slid aside and she saw an opening. With a shout she lunged forward and the warrior caught her jab easily, playing with her as she pushed him back. Demen looked barely taxed as she tried to breech his defenses, but his style provided a good challenge and she was able to keep off some of his attacks, but not all of them. She was quickly developing a fine collection of bruises.

She was exhausting herself and slowly realizing that the warrior was building up the speed and strength of his attacks and therefore her responses must come quicker. Dale smacked away a lunge, but it was soft and uncommitted; too late she realized that Demen intended to attack to her left instead. Fearing a hard hit, she spun away and crouched defensively, avoiding his combination. Demen suddenly snapped forward, hooking his foot under her knee and flipping her on to her belly with an easy motion. The air rushed out of her lungs, but by pure instinct she tried to rise and scramble away. The warrior stepped on her back and pinned her down.

“I said don’t do that. Now get up and we start again.”

“I need a break.”

“Get up. No one gives you a break in a battle.”

She stopped herself from muttering sulkily as she made her feet again. Demen bowed stiffly once more and she responded curtly. He moved like lightning towards her and she surprised herself by moving automatically to parry it. The warrior laughed out loud as he continued to press her and she did her best to stay engaged. Still, her every instinct warned her to get away from Demen, and the increasing number of bruises tended to enforce this. She steeled herself and continued, feeling sweat streaming down her shoulders even as Demen continued to look quite confident and untouched behind his weapon. She had the impression he could fence all day. Dale was starting to hate him for it.

“You got the defensive down, now try to actually hurt me Dale. If you can.”

“I can’t hit you.”

“I guess you are too weak then.” Demen twisted the stick down against the grip of her weapon in an attempt to disarm her. She rolled her shoulders and backed away. The warrior pressed her again, smacked her hard on the hip. “That was good, but come on; you’ve yet to touch me.”

Dale felt herself growing angry at the smug expression on the warrior’s face. She would hit him and she’d stop that smile. She hurtled into an energetic attack but he merely lifted his weapon and pressed its tip to her sternum, causing her to freeze. Demen shook his head sadly.

“Alright, enough for today. Please think about what just happened…if I see you open up your chest like that again when we are sparring…I shall pick you up and drop you in the pond…”

“I’m not done.” She said, trying and failing to keep the emotion out of her voice. Dale was aware her voice sounded peevish and childish. She didn’t want to stop without knowing what she had done wrong. The warrior took the stick out of her hand before she could say anything else.

“You are tired and you are getting angry, Dale. You’ll just get hurt.”

“But I still cannot hit you.”

“Yes, it is annoying, I will give you that much.” Demen smiled at her, a truly devilish expression given his swarthy features and neatly trimmed beard. “Tomorrow.”

“Am I getting better at all?”

“No. You are too afraid to attack. I imagine you’ll always be happiest standing somewhere well behind me with a bow.”

“But..I have had to use my dagger before…”

“A dagger is not a sword…and I have watched you. The moment you can get away, you do…its not actually using a weapon so much as something you are forced to do out of necessity. I wonder why you asked me…is it just because you are bored, or do you want to know how?”

“I want to know how.”

“Fine, then we will do more tomorrow.”

Fuming, Dale strode out of the dusty little clearing in the shade of the canyon. She said nothing to Daneska and Hebek as she passed them; she desired a swim and a soak for her bruises and her pride. She didn’t want company either. Dale was used to having skill come to her fairly easy; it simply was not normal for her to fail at something that seemed so simple and obvious. She slinked down a narrow side canyon to where a pool of water glittered beneath cycads and ferns. Serul padded into the canyon and laid down while she soaked in the water in the welcome solitude.

Her mind wandered back to the guild hall and its oddities. For the last week they had been content to enjoy the comforts of the hall; they had been battered, starved and deprived of their equipment, it was pleasant to rest at last. It was enough that the guild lord fed them and occasionally demanded to be entertained. Demen and Arn were only too willing to spar for his amusement.

Those before dinner time matches had inspired Dale to ask the warriors to give her lessons. The pair of them had agreed that the sword was the best place to start, so Hebek had carved her a reasonable weapon and that was how it had started. Arn had taught her the basics of positions and stances, but had been unwilling to strike her. Demen, however, seemed to have no such inhibitions.

She rubbed her bruised sides and decided she really ought to go hunt some trolls to renew her supply of troll unguent. At least then she could sleep at night; four days of sword lessons had reduced her to misery when she tried to rest. Dale was much to proud to ask Daneska to heal her…but she knew enough about herself by now to know it was some of her own pride in her ability to resist pain and to be independent.

She pulled herself out of the pool and paused when a movement startled her. Dale slid back down into the water as Serul rose to his feet and growled; a deep threatening tenor of mistrust. The ferns rustled up the canyon as a vaguely human figure moved through them. She frowned, guessing it was one of the Twistwood men spying on her while she was naked.

“Pervert!” She yelled, dragging herself back on the shore. “Never seen a naked girl before? Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

Serul kept growling, lowering his head and flattening his ears. There was something terribly unsettling about his posture. Had it been one of the men, surely Serul would have already charged after them to put the fear of wolf into them. The old wolf generally had little respect for spell casters. Dale pulled on her tunic and pants quickly, stood up and stared where Serul was looking, his hackles standing on end and the growl continuing to echo down the rock faces.

“Serul?”

“We should leave, Dale. It is a dead thing…a not living thing.”

“It looked the size of a person. Is it a dead person…a zombie?”

“I don’t know. I am afraid.”

It was a strange admission from the wolf. She reached down and rubbed his back and he grumbled, showing all of his teeth. Dale picked up her practice sword and ran down the canyon, relieved when Serul finally caught up with her. They returned to the sparring ground and found it empty. Feeling strangely vulnerable, Dale summoned her powers to race back up to the safety and community of the cave. Once there she saw Petri setting out the evening meal. The lord’s two body servants were setting up chairs.

“Where’s the lord?”

“He is in his study. If you wish I can tell him you wish to see him, young Dale.” Petri responded in an impeccable accent. “Are you alright?”

“There seems to be something wandering in the canyon…not a person.”

“Oh, occasionally things come in from the outside.” Petri responded. “Be at ease, nothing can reach us in the village at night once the stairway is blocked. Nothing to worry about, but I shall tell his lordship.”

“What about finding weapons for us?”

“The servants of the household do not trust you enough yet. Please be patient.” Petri set a fruit bowl down on the table. Dale flipped the practice sword in her hands for a moment. Serul leaned against her heavily.

“So tell me, how you get such nice food in the middle of the ocean with no ship anywhere in sight. Especially since you have no farmers?”

Dale watched how Petri barely contained his irritation at her question. He plucked at the linen of the table cloth and straightened cups and utensils for a moment.

“Young lady, you would have to ask the lord. Ask yourself why you question such things. Do we not serve your company well?”

“You are very kind to us. It is not because I am ungrateful, but just curious.”

“Ah yes, curious. You may find as you age that curiosity is not often rewarded. Better off to go with the flow as they say.”