“It’s why I was so eager to learn to fight with a blade,” said the other girl. “Arrows are extremely effective in their place, but they won’t help you defend yourself in close quarters. Foresters are a fairly egalitarian bunch, but my parents never wanted any of their children, boys or girls, to learn sword fighting. I think they were afraid we would run away to join the army, or become city guards or something.”
She paused for the briefest moment and met her brother’s eyes across the table. The emotion they shared was difficult to read. Grief? Guilt?
Marie glanced across at Rafe, who raised his eyebrows the slightest fraction. So he’d noticed as well.
Was there a limit to R’s powers? Were her friends starting to question their decision to turn against their own families?
But in another second, the moment was gone, and Lisa was continuing to speak. “So as soon as we arrived here, I joined the sword training. Putting up with Peter is a small price to pay for learning such a valuable skill.”
“Archery isn’t so limited,” said Danny, his brow creasing as he considered his sister’s words. “A bow can be drawn quickly and an arrow loosed at a short range. And, if necessary, an arrow can be used as a sort of knife.”
“Yes,” said Lisa, smiling in affectionate exasperation, “if someone is as skilled as you are. But how many of us can say that? You know I never had any aptitude for it.”
“That much at least is true,” said Danny, his serious expression breaking into a grin. “Not even my excellent tutelage was enough to turn you into an archer.”
Lisa laughed and threw half a bread roll at him. He made no move to avoid it, but the roll sailed straight past him anyway and hit Rafe in the chest.
“Hey!” complained Rafe, before rescuing the abused bread and stuffing it into his mouth.
“Case in point,” said Danny, “she has no sense of aim at all.”
Marie scooped up her own half-eaten roll and lobbed it at Danny, hitting him squarely in the face. Lisa crowed in triumph.
Danny seemed unfazed. “And that,” he said, “is why Marie, on the other hand, is turning into a fine archer. It’s all about natural skill.”
“Well, the two of us will just have to stick together then. Between us, we’ll have you all covered.”
The two boys smiled at her words, but they gave Marie a brief pang. Whenever she started to relax, a simple moment like this one would remind her about her complicated position in the camp and her uncertain future. She wished she were simply another forester, free to smile and agree that she would stick with her friend.
Rafe, who always seemed quick to pick up on her changes of mood, turned thoughtful also.
“You know, it’s a good point, though,” he said. “If you really want to learn to defend yourself, some skill with a blade would be a good idea.”
Marie made a face. “But did you see me that first day with a sword?”
“Swords aren’t the only blades, you know. I think a bit of training with a knife might be a good idea. You have better reach and strength than many girls. A knife can be a handy thing to have in a tight spot.”
“Hmmm, that’s not a bad idea,” agreed Danny. “Do you know enough to teach her, Rafe?”
Rafe shrugged. “Enough, I think.”
“Oooh, that’s a good idea, I want to learn too!” said Lisa, clapping her hands.
Marie looked between the three of them, wondering if she was going to have any say in the matter.
Rafe caught her eyes and smiled at her. “If you’d like to, that is, Marie.”
She immediately realised her desire to be consulted had nothing to do with any reluctance to learn knife fighting.
She nodded her agreement while silently resolving, yet again, not to allow herself to get so emotionally wrapped up in Rafe’s opinion of her. She was setting herself up for inevitable disappointment – he could hardly think anything positive about her once he discovered her double life.
“You know, I have some questions for you before I take the very serious step of putting myself under your guidance.” Lisa’s mock serious words pulled Marie’s attention back to her friends.
Rafe matched her assumed gravity. “Of course, of course,” he said. “As long as you assure me that you posed the exact same questions to Peter before placing yourself under his excellent supervision.”
Lisa threw the other half of her roll at him, and he reached out and grabbed it from the air before it could fly past him. This piece followed the previous one into his mouth.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a few questions, Rafe!” Danny joined the conversation with a lazy smile.
Rafe leaned back and spread his arms wide. “I assure you I am without fear. Ask away.”
“I want to know about your family. Tell us something about them.” Lisa propped her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, and gave Rafe her full attention.
“Ah, of course,” said Rafe. “A question that naturally springs to mind when considering the skills of a potential knife fighting teacher.”
“Oh, go on, Rafe, you can’t stay a secret forever,” said Marie.
He shot her a look that she couldn’t quite interpret and then broke into a smile.
“Very well, then. I do aim to please after all.” He looked up at the roof of the cavern, considering. “I have a great many brothers and sisters – far too many for any particular attention to be paid to me. I can assure you that it’s no mean feat to stand out amongst such a mob. My sisters like me well enough, with the exception of the eldest who has always found me far too frivolous.” His broad grin suggested he found this assessment amusing rather than offensive. “Thankfully the rest of them find me entertaining. My brothers on the other hand…” he shrugged. “Well, the only way I could ever get them to pay me the least heed was to join them in their weapons practice. And then I found I was good at it, so I worked all the harder.” He shrugged again. “You have to be good at something, if you want to stand out amongst so many.”
“Very neatly done,” said Danny admiringly. “You brought it back to knife fighting after all.”
“Did I not just tell you that I aim to please?”
Lisa snorted at the boys’ antics before opening her mouth to ask another question. Unfortunately, however, they had lingered too long for the kitchen volunteer’s liking and were chased out of the dining cavern before she got the chance to ask it.
The next day, the four of them began using the free timeslot after lunch to practice knife fighting. The first day they drew quite a crowd of spectators, but interest seemed to dwindle when the small group returned each day to do the same exercises. Only the contingent of girls who followed Rafe and Danny around whenever possible continued to linger. None of them were brave enough to ask to join, however. Or else, they had no interest in participating and were simply satisfied with the frequent friendly smiles Rafe sent their way.
Only two other people showed a continued interest in their activities, and both seemed content to observe from a distance. One was R, and he informed Marie when he cornered her alone in the corridor one day, that he heartily approved.
“As always,” he said, “you demonstrate how hard you are willing to work and how well you deserve to rule.”
Marie wished she didn’t feel so flattered by his approbation. She forced her mind towards her brother in an effort to fight the feeling.
“And what about William, doesn’t he deserve to rule?” she asked.
“William certainly has many excellent qualities.” The sentiment didn’t quite seem to reach R’s eyes. “But everything has always come so easily to him. You have had to work for everything you have and it makes you stronger and more resilient.”
Marie wondered how he always knew what words would best tap into her deepest emotions. She wished he didn’t have such power over her.
“That may be so,” she said, “but I won’t see him harmed.”
“Of course not, of course not.” R’s voice wa
s as smooth as glass. “It is you who will be queen and you who will decide how best to handle the family that adopted you.”
It was a nice sentiment, but a small warning voice in Marie’s head suggested it sounded too good to be true.
“Do you know where he is?” she asked R, a question she hadn’t been able to bring herself to ask before.
“Why, in the palace, I assume.” His surprise seemed genuine.
“You’ve never seen him in the forest?” pressed Marie. “Around the camp?”
“No indeed, why would he come here?”
“No reason.” Marie watched him with slitted eyes but couldn’t see any dissimulation in his face.
Rafe had left a report in Greenwood days ago, but had only been able to slip away to check on the town once since then. He had reported that his map and subsequent missive were gone, but no response had been left in their place.
So Marie was still left to hope that William had simply returned to the palace.
The other person to watch them from a distance was Peter. Marie often saw him lurking, his disapproving gaze fixed on them. And, once she started paying attention, she noticed that his eyes were often turned their way during training and meals as well.
She had no desire to confront him merely on account of a sour expression, so she did her best to ignore him. She commented on it once to Rafe, but he turned her concerns away with a light answer. He certainly seemed to have no problem laughing and joking despite Peter’s lurking presence.
Lisa seemed similarly unconcerned, and only Danny took Peter at all seriously. But then Danny always took their situation at camp more seriously than the others around him, and even he dismissed Peter as any serious threat.
Marie wondered if she was being paranoid, or if her life had trained her to be more observant than her friends. She was, of course, weighted down with the guilty knowledge of their duplicity, so it might have been her imagination that Peter’s eyes lingered on her and on Rafe.
When days passed without even a harsh word from him, she decided it must be paranoia, after all.
And then R left on another recruiting trip.
Chapter 18
R had tried to corner Marie before he left, but she had managed to evade him. So she had no more warning than the rest of the camp when he left one evening.
The next afternoon, Peter was waiting for them in their usual practice spot. Even the most unobservant person could have sensed the coming confrontation, and he had already gathered quite a crowd before they arrived.
The circle parted at their arrival, letting them through to the empty space in the centre. Marie tensed at the sight of Peter’s angry face, but Rafe, who was standing beside her, remained completely at ease. He even grinned around at the watching crowd.
“I know I’m an expert teacher,” he said, “but even I don’t normally draw such enthusiastic admirers.”
Many of the gathered spectators chuckled, and several of the boys called out joking encouragements to him. Peter glared at the assembled group, his face turning red and his eyes narrowing to slits.
“You think you’re so special,” he hissed, his eyes darting between Rafe and Marie. “Well, I say you’re nothing special at all. You’re not even foresters, and I’m getting sick of you lording it over the rest of us. I’ve seen you with your group of archers. Thinking you’re so much better than us swordsmen.”
Marie shook her head at his overactive imagination. The small movement focussed his attention on her again, and she felt Rafe stiffen beside her. Peter opened his mouth to direct some comment at her, but Rafe spoke first.
His light voice betrayed nothing of the sudden tension she could feel radiating from him. “I can assure you, I have nothing but the greatest respect for anyone who can wield a blade. I myself actually prefer a sword to a bow. I merely seek to help where I am most needed.”
His words only further enraged Peter, and Marie had a sneaking suspicion that he was purposefully drawing Peter’s ire away from her.
“Don’t think I haven’t heard the comments,” spat Peter. “That you think you could teach swordplay better than me.”
Rafe spread his arms wide, a disarming expression on his face. “I can assure you I’ve never said such a thing.”
“But you think it, don’t you?” Peter crossed his arms.
Rafe just grinned at him. “My thoughts are entirely my own, and I don’t feel the need to own up to them, whatever they may be.”
Another titter of amusement ran through the gathered foresters. Once again, the crowd’s response fuelled Peter’s rage.
“We’ll see who’s the better swordsman,” he said, drawing the sword strapped to his side.
Rafe merely watched him silently, the amusement still lingering on his face.
“Draw your sword!” demanded Peter. “Or are you too coward to face me?”
“Not at all, if you insist,” said Rafe. He drew his own sword.
Danny stepped forward and spoke quietly in his ear. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Rafe?”
Rafe’s reply was equally quiet. “I don’t see what choice I have. He won’t be satisfied until he’s had the chance to fight someone, and I’d rather it be me than…” His eyes flicked towards the girls.
Danny followed his gaze and then bit back a curse. “Very well, then.” He stepped back, ushering the girls to join him.
Marie appreciated Rafe’s gallantry but also his practicality. She’d been making a lot of progress, but she wasn’t proficient enough with her knives to fight a duel with Peter. She bit her lip, wanting to protest but knowing it would be pointless. She just hoped Rafe didn’t get hurt.
The two young men crouched into fighting stances and began to circle one another. Peter, clearly impatient, was the first to lunge forward, but Rafe easily parried his attack. Frustrated, Peter danced backwards, repositioning himself for another strike.
But however often the forester attacked, Rafe easily blocked him. The Lanoverian was obviously the more skilled swordsman. And even Marie, who had witnessed very few duels, knew that Rafe’s refusal to counter-attack made a clear statement. His forbearance only further enraged Peter, whose attacks became more and more frenzied.
Finally, Peter made a particularly wild attack and Rafe, with a flick of his wrist that Marie couldn’t follow, sent the forester’s sword flying across the open space in the centre of the crowd. He lowered his own blade and stepped back, silently inviting Peter to acknowledge the end of the match.
Peter stood still, breathing heavily and staring at Rafe. Rafe shrugged and started to return to his friends, when Peter suddenly lunged at one of the watching rebels. Ripping the sword from the young man’s scabbard, he attacked Rafe, who had turned most of the way away from him.
His desperate blow caught Rafe unaware, knocking the sword from his hand.
Marie gasped and stepped forward. Instinctively she wanted to intervene, although she had no idea how to effectively do so. Danny gripped her arm and pulled her backwards, shaking his head.
Marie glanced at him for the merest second, but by the time she had returned her eyes to Rafe, he had two knives in his hands. She hadn’t realised he carried knives and had no idea where he had drawn them from. They were long and looked wickedly sharp but still inadequate against the length of Peter’s sword.
Peter smiled and attacked again.
Marie opened her mouth to call out a useless warning but shut it again in shock. Instead of seeing Rafe cut down in a pool of blood, she watched Peter fall back, his expression changing to one of desperation.
Rafe moved so quickly that she couldn’t even follow his two flashing knives. Somehow, he was not only holding back the longer blade but also going on the offensive. Once, twice, three times, he cut long slits in Peter’s shirt, skilfully avoiding piercing the skin underneath.
The spectators fell away and Rafe drove the other man all the way across the clearing to the edge of the trees. Marie still couldn’t see how he was doing
it, but she now suspected he had been holding back the entire time he had been in the camp. His skill with weapons clearly far exceeded any of the foresters. He had already proved his mastery with the bow and arrow and sword, and she had never seen someone use knives so effectively.
When he disarmed Peter this time, the other man bowed his head and made no attempt to go for another weapon. Rafe stepped even closer to him and said something, but they were too far away for Marie to hear the words.
She did, however, see Peter’s head come up, and his eyes focus on her.
When he had finished speaking, Rafe once again secreted his knives and then strode back to the group.
“Show’s over, everyone,” he called, but he was smiling to take any sting from his words.
Slowly the crowd began to disperse, many of the boys stopping to pat Rafe on the back or shake his hand. Rafe accepted their congratulations with his usual good cheer, but Marie could tell that he was uncomfortable.
When he finally reached Marie and the others, he sighed. “Well that didn’t go exactly to plan.”
“Rafe, you’ve been holding back on me,” said Danny, shaking his head.
Rafe shrugged.
“What did you say to Peter?” asked Lisa, her eyes huge and her expression curious.
“That’s between me and Peter,” said Rafe, but his eyes drifted towards Marie.
“I’m glad you’re all right,” said Marie, quietly. “But somehow I don’t think Peter is less angry with you than he was before.”
Rafe smiled at her, the expression lighting up his face. “I can take care of myself.”
“Evidently.” She looked across the clearing, but Peter had disappeared. She sighed. There was nothing to be done about it now. “Shall we go inside? It doesn’t seem like a good moment for practicing.” She gestured at the many rebels who still lingered in the clearing.
Her friends were quick to agree and the four of them retreated into the caves. Admiring eyes and whispers followed them.
Peter made no further attempt to challenge them or interrupt their practice, but Marie could still feel his burning eyes following them whenever they were in the same vicinity. Both Danny and Rafe seemed to feel that the matter with Peter was settled, but she couldn’t feel the same assurance. The fight had only increased the admiration and respect that the rest of the camp gave to Rafe, and she could imagine how much Peter must resent it.
The Princess Pact: A Twist on Rumpelstiltskin (The Four Kingdoms Book 3) Page 12
