The Curse (The Windore Series Book 2)

by Valya Boutenko

  “Break,” commanded the trainer, interrupting the match before it got heated. “Do not fear the warrior who has practiced thousands of movements once, but fear the warrior who has practiced a single move thousands of times!” he said, looking at Amelliea with approval. Her sword was still drawn. “I will fight you both,” said the trainer. There was a murmur of excitement and the other students quickly gathered in a dense ring around the three fighters. Amelliea pulled the leather straps tighter across her torso and fixed her shield into place, clipping it onto the silver cuff covering the stub of her right arm. She could sense curious eyes studying the elegant silver shield and the armored cuff that held it in place.

  “Ready?” asked the trainer.

  “Ready!” said Amelliea and Galvan simultaneously.

  In a flash the trainer was upon them, his blade moving as lightning. Amelliea gritted her teeth and blocked his rapid strikes as they rained down upon her. Galvan tried hard to attack in spite of struggling to defend himself from his master’s blows.

  “We must work together!” called out Amelliea.

  Galvan nodded, stepping closer to the girl.

  Amelliea swiped her sword low, forcing the trainer to jump, while Galvan lurched forward, stabbing his blade at the trainer’s chest. In one fluid motion, the man fell onto his back and then pressed off the mat in a kip. In an instant he was on his feet once more, easily avoiding the amateur strikes of his students. Amelliea and Galvan struck from the left and then the right, their blades mirroring each other in perfect form, their footwork in sync to the fraction of an inch. The trainer blocked their two swords with a single strike of his blade.

  “How do you know the Gator Tar Tuvin defense?” asked the trainer, swiping at Amelliea. Her bun had come undone, and as his sword moved passed her face it cut through a lock of her blond hair, letting a short golden spiral fall to the floor.

  “In—my village,” Amelliea struggled to get the words out between strikes, “I practiced—with my—master.” She swung her sword at the trainer holding nothing back, “his grandfather—was a—Gator,” she finished.

  “Impressive, I have never seen anyone use that defense whom I have not trained myself,” said the man. His blade came to a dead stop on Amelliea’s and Galvan’s necks at the same instant. “But you have much to learn, if you are to fight like a true Gator,” he said, keeping the cold blade at their throats a moment longer to help them understand they would have been killed in a real battle against him.

  That night Amelliea returned after hours to the training hall to practice all on her own. She grabbed a spear from the weapons wrack and began repeating the movements she had learned earlier that day. The loathsome weapon was cumbersome to handle, especially with one arm, and she quickly grew frustrated.

  “You should be resting,” came the voice of the Prince from behind her. Not having heard him come in, Amelliea jumped, and then turned around to glare at the boy.

  “I’ll rest when I’m dead,” she said.

  “You’ll be dead sooner than you think if you don’t rest,” he answered.

  “Then I’d better hurry,” retorted Amelliea, starting the exercise from the top once again.

  “Is that the Gallivant Sequence?” asked Galvan after a moment.

  Amelliea nodded. “Step-step-jab!” she whispered under her breath.

  “It’s more of a shuffle than a skip in the footwork,” he said with a smile.

  “I’ll get it eventually, that’s why I’m practicing,” Amelliea said tartly. “I want to do it perfectly.”

  “Perfectionism is the mark of an amateur,” replied the Prince. “A master uses even his mistakes to his advantage.” He walked over to the weapons wrack and picked out a spear of his own. “Try it again,” he said.

  Amelliea swiped her spear awkwardly through the air at the Prince in the new pattern she was practicing. He easily blocked her clumsy attempts to attack him.

  “You must work with the weapon, allowing its unique nature to live through your hands—your arms—your torso!” commanded the Prince, as he forced her to quickly retreat from his graceful attack. “Do not fight the weapon, trying to bend it to your will, but rather allow your body to be the instrument that enhances your weapon’s effectiveness.” He raced through a complex series of efficient steps, demonstrating what the attack Amelliea had been practicing looked like when it was properly preformed. “Feel the grace of the spear, enjoy its weight—its reach—its span!” said the Prince, matching each word with a strike. He swooped his spear around Amelliea’s weapon disarming the girl. Her spear fell on the matt with a dull thud.

  “You must not think of the spear as limiting,” Galvan explained. “It is not a sword, so stop trying to use it like one! The spear has its own advantages. Perhaps some day you may find yourself in a situation where you will need to defend yourself and you will have to improvise with whatever is on hand. Although you may not have a spear, you may find a branch, a broomstick, or even a flag pole.”

  “A flag pole?” asked Amelliea with a note of doubt.

  “Yes, a flag pole,” said Galvan seriously. “Master Gander once defeated an entire mob of angry Coalsmith welders armed with only a flag pole and a carrot,” he winked.

  Amelliea laughed, understanding that Galvan was joking. “He must have been quite fierce, but why were those Coalsmith welders so angry with him to begin with, I wonder?” asked Amelliea, suggesting that their trainer had likely instigated the fight by doing one of the many awful things the Gators were known for.

  Galvan shrugged, and moved closer to her. “Perhaps because they got robbed blind just as you have been only moments ago.” He held up her necklace, her coin purse, and earrings in his hand.

  “But how did you—” gawked Amelliea, feeling her bare neck. She lunged at him, trying to retrieve her possessions.

  Galvan dodged away laughing.

  “Give it back!” smiled Amelliea chasing him.

  He let her grab his wrist, and when she reached across him for her coin purse he pulled the gem-studded hair clip from behind her ear. Her hair spilled down her shoulders.

  “Thank—you!” he exclaimed, cracking up and twisting away with the sparkling clip, his hands now full of her valuables.

  “Hey, you thief!” cried Amelliea, donning the spear once again. She fought him with ferocity, using Galvan’s own advice to corner the unarmed Prince. The boy finally surrendered and politely returned the stolen goods.

  “Teach me,” said Amelliea replacing the coin purse in her pocket, and putting on her jewelry.

  “You want to learn the art of theft?” asked Galvan with surprise.

  “Yes,” said Amelliea, amused he would think otherwise.

  “Alright,” said Galvan, stepping closer to her until she could feel his breath on her neck. She hoped he would not see her bruises. “When I move behind or in front of you, it instinctively alarms you, but when I come beside you like this,” he stood by her side, “I can enter your space without arousing your suspicion. I can even make contact with you without your detection.” He touched her shoulder to prove his point. “This is a friendly, non-threatening stance and people will always let you get close to them from this particular angle.”

  “I understand,” said Amelliea, noting the difference.

  “Next, I distract you and steel from the pocket you are not keeping track of. I touch your arm, but take your necklace. I grab your shoulder, but take your pocket watch. The distraction may even be a verbal statement. Verbal distractions are most effective when you have a basic understanding of human psychology. By far the most effective verbal distraction is flattery. Know that the complement a person gives another is the one they most want to hear about themselves,” said the Prince. “So take note of what is said.”

  “I don’t want to use psychology against others,” interjected Amelliea.

  “Then learn it so that it’s not used against you,” said Galvan. “Politeness is another tactic. For example, I may gracious
ly point out that you dropped a gold coin, thereby instantly earning your trust, and when you bend down to pick it up, I swipe your entire wallet. Even though it was never your coin to begin with,” he confessed matter-of-factly. “And when you come to thank me, I use a quick gesture to steal back my own coin. The most important thing, of course, is to never get caught. ”

  “And if you do get caught?” asked Amelliea.

  “Then you improvise.”

  “Let me try,” said Amelliea.

  “Alright,” agreed Galvan. “I have a watch in my waist coat pocket. Try to pinch it from me.”

  Amelliea backed away and then strode toward him. She looked away and then bumped into him with her shoulder. “Oh excuse me!” she exclaimed in a theatrically false tone, while she quickly snuck her hand into his pocket and clasped her fingers around the watch. She pulled away only to get caught on the chain, which turned out to be threaded through a loop of fabric inside the vest. There was the sound of tearing fabric.

  The Prince laughed and covered his eyes with his hand. “That was terrible!”

  “Well, I didn’t know there would be a chain!” protested the girl, returning the watch.

  “You should have anticipated it,” explained Galvan. “Try again.”

  Amelliea made several more unsuccessful attempts to snatch various objects from the Prince and then Galvan offered to walk her to her chambers. Together, the two of them strode through the dark palace corridors oddly at ease with each other.

  “May I ask you something?” asked Amelliea after a while.

  “Certainly,” answered Galvan.

  “Why is everyone so somber during practice?”

  “We are taught to focus fully on our training, leaving social interaction for times of rest. It is important to learn how to focus for long spans of time without distraction, and it helps the students progress faster.”

  “I figured it would be something like that.”

  “Also, we are obligated by a secret code to be extra hard on a new student in order to find out whether he, or in your case she, can be counted on in battle.”

  “And?” inquired Amelliea, curious about the verdict.

  “You passed the test alright,” he laughed.

  They had reached her chamber door, but the Prince leaned against the wall, lingering as though he wasn’t yet ready to say goodnight. They grew quiet. Amelliea wracked her brain in search of something to say, but she kept drawing a blank.

  “Thank you for this evening,” he said. “I have never before met a girl like you, and I immensely enjoy your company.”

  That was when Amelliea noticed a thin gold chain around her wrist that wasn’t there before.

  “What is this?” she asked, lifting her hand to admire it.

  “Reverse stealing,” shrugged Galvan.

  “You treat me like a Princess,” said Amelliea.

  “You deserve such treatment,” he replied.

  Amelliea smiled and cast down her eyes, trying hard not to blush. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Good night,” said Galvan quietly.

  “Good night,” replied Amelliea. Not knowing what to do in such a moment, she slipped inside her room and quickly closed the door behind her. Her emotions overflowing, and her heart thundering in her chest, Amelliea picked up a cushion from the sofa and screamed into it.

  For the next several weeks Galvan came in the evenings to help Amelliea train. Together they practiced the things Amelliea had trouble with during their daily lessons. With Prince Galvan’s help, Amelliea was learning in leaps and bounds. The dagger throwing had become her favorite and she loved the rush of hitting the center mark time after time. Amelliea worked out creative ways to complete the acrobatic movements as well, and before long the cartwheels had become easy for her to do. As her body became stronger, Amelliea discovered that even the spear, which had seemed impossible to wield was becoming more enjoyable to practice with.

  One evening, Galvan did not show up. Amelliea trained alone for several hours, wondering all the while what had kept him. She reminded herself that he was, after all, a Prince, and likely had some important obligations to attend too, and that it was surprising that he had invested so much time in her already, since it was in no way his job to train her. All this reasoning made sense, but it did not truly console her and her heart remained troubled.

  Early the next morning when she lined up with the other students she searched for the Prince all over the training hall, but could not find him. Amelliea began to worry that some kind of harm had come to Galvan, and that she had been so foolish and bothered by his absence, that she had not sought him out to discover if he was alright! Amelliea stood in line scolding herself for being so selfish, until she felt a sudden shift in the attention of the boys around her. She followed their gaze and saw Galvan enter the training hall. She smiled, relieved to see him, and was about to forget all about her hurt feelings when she spotted someone walking beside the Prince. It was a girl! This was not some ordinary servant girl, or even a lady of the counsel. No, this was by far the most beautiful young woman Amelliea had ever laid eyes on! The mysterious beauty was taller than Amelliea, and had long brown hair, dark intense eyes, and a tone, slender figure. Amelliea stared at both of the new girl’s tan arms with instant jealousy. Clad in the splendid black robes of the Coalsmith region, the new girl walked with the confident stride of a warrior. Amelliea glanced around to find the other boys watching the new girl’s every movement as if spellbound. The Prince led his striking guest to stand beside the trainer.

  “This is Gabriellen, a warrior from the Coalsmith region,” announced the Prince. “Many of you may have heard of her legendary achievements, and I assure you that all the stories are true!”

  A light ripple of laughter echoed across the room. Amelliea alone remained silent.

  “Gabriellen will be training with us for a while, I ask you to extend the same courtesy to her that you would to one of our own.” The trainer nodded, and Gabriellen bowed respectfully to the man before coming to join Amelliea’s line. The Prince moved on to his usual group without so much as a glance in Amelliea’s direction. Amelliea could not help but wonder if Gabriellen was the reason Galvan had not shown up the night before. Unpleasant feelings she was unaccustomed to withstanding twisted inside Amelliea’s chest. Moments later it was her turn, and she preformed a series of perfect one-armed cartwheels. As she was jogging back in line, she saw Gabriellen do her cartwheels as the Prince did, with no arms touching the mat. The new girl gracefully flipped her body through the air with seemingly effortless movements. Amelliea clenched her teeth and got back in line.

  “Well done!” whispered one of the boys to the new girl. “Most impressive!” muttered another.

  Amelliea did not remember the other students being so supportive of her on her first day. And what of that secret code the Prince had mentioned, where they were supposed to be hard on new students to test them? It soon became clear that the rules did not apply to Gabriellen, because she was a renowned warrior. Even the trainer let her break from tradition and speak during class with whomever she pleased. When she was throwing daggers, the Prince dropped what he was doing to personally come over and show her how to flick her wrist properly. He stood behind her, and carefully adjusted the position of her elbow. She laughed and bantered with Galvan as though she knew him well.

  “They were childhood friends,” whispered a boy standing next to Amelliea, and taking pity on her obvious and hopeless crush.

  “How long will she be here for?” asked Amelliea, not taking her eyes off the girl.

  “She usually visits for a few weeks in the fall, but never to train. It is rumored that she will stay for longer this time,” answered the boy.

  The trainer shot them a stern look, and the conversation ended. Apparently, all the other students were still required to adhere to the rules and continue training as usual. Amelliea hated Gabriellen with a passion she had never known, and though she stood only several fe
et apart from the new girl, Amelliea felt a buzzing energy connecting her to the unwelcome newcomer.

  Directed by the trainer, the groups switched tasks again. This time, Amelliea’s group was working with the spear. The students changed partners rapidly, repeating the same series of movements over and over again to solidify the technique in their muscle memory. Amelliea worked hard to get past her negative feelings, telling herself that any friend of Galvan’s was a friend of hers, and that she may even grow to like Gabriellen in time. Unexpectedly, Amelliea found herself face to face with the new girl. They squared off, preparing for the training sequence.

  “So you’re the handicapped, wannabe warrior?” laughed Gabriellen, as though she had just taken notice of Amelliea for the first time even though they had shared the same group for well over an hour. “You are even more pathetic than I imagined. What a pity we could never spar in a fair fight.”

  Amelliea attacked her, all attempts to make peace forgotten. She moved fiercely through the training sequence, making Gabriellen back away. The new girl suddenly diverged from the scripted exercise, and swiped her spear viciously at Amelliea’s throat. Amelliea deflected the strike with difficulty, and now it was her turn to back away as Gabriellen came at her in a foreign pattern of movements that Amelliea had not yet learned. Amelliea could feel the attention of the boy’s in her group zeroing in on the fight.

  “Prove to me you are not afraid!” shouted Gabriellen.

  “I did not come here to prove such foolish things to the likes of you,” said Amelliea obstinately.

  Gabriellen struck Amelliea’s spear so hard that the wooden handle split in half. The spear end fell onto the matt, leaving a splintered stick with a pointed end in Amelliea’s hand. Without skipping a beat, Amelliea stepped forward and came at Gabriellen with a series of rapid sword-like strikes, making the other girl work to defend herself.

  “It seems cheating is the only way for you to win, you poor severed creature!” sighed Gabriellen sarcastically.