A War for Truth

by M. Lynn

  “I will not be beaten by a stupid tree. You will pay for that,” she growled at it like it could hear her angry threat.

  “And I’m sure the tree is cowering in its own tree-like way, Princess.”

  Avery’s shadow fell over her as the sword master reached down with a gloved hand, offering assistance. Rissa glared up at her. She hadn’t even heard her approach. Had she been watching her the whole time? And was that an actual smile threatening to break the grim line she called her lips? Not quite sure if Avery was laughing at her or not, Rissa accepted the gloved hand with a sigh.

  Avery pulled her to her feet and Rissa hid her embarrassment by fussing with her tunic and cloak, wiping in vain at the muddy streaks on her clothes. Only once the color faded from her cheeks, did she lift her eyes to meet the sword master’s gaze.

  “Why are you here, Avery? Did Trystan send you to watch over me like some child?”

  “The king worries about you, Princess.”

  The king. For a moment Rissa thought she was referring to her father, and her heart shrank a tiny bit more when she realized Avery meant Trystan. That sharp reminder made her response a bit harsher than she meant it to be. “Yes well, if Trystan worried more about our quest to save our realm than he did the old man back there pretending to be ill just so he can get out of traveling, then I’d be much happier.”

  “Our new king has much on his shoulders, Princess. You of all people know this. He will make the decisions in all of our best interests.”

  “Our best interest is to head back to the palace of Dreach-Sciene as soon as possible. This waiting is unnecessary and uncalled for.”

  “We do as the king wishes.” Avery’s dutiful monotone response irritated Rissa to no end.

  “But of course,” she hissed, her tone filled with venom. “We dare not disobey the king. After all, it isn’t as if he’s just some naïve, silly boy who had the title fall into his lap because of his father’s murder. The king knows what’s best for us all.”

  “Princess…”

  Rissa cut short whatever Avery was about to say. She didn’t want to hear the sword master’s defense of her brother. She didn’t want to hear any more talk. Talking was useless. Action was what made a difference. Turning her back to the other woman, she walked to the sword standing upright in the mud and yanked it out with a strong grip. She studied the dull blade and flipped it around a couple of times with her wrist, testing its weight in her hand.

  “What am I doing wrong, Avery?” She glanced over her shoulder.

  “I am sorry, my lady, I don’t understand the question.”

  She turned to face the older woman. “With this? No matter how I try, I can’t seem to hit my target. I must admit, it is quite a bit more cumbersome than my bow.”

  Avery crossed her arms and raised a brow Rissa’s way. “Why the sudden interest in sword fighting? You’re more than competent with your bow. Swords need not concern you.”

  “Oh?” Rissa’s tone was deceivingly quiet. “And you think you know better of where my concerns should lie?”

  Avery dropped her eyes and gave the girl a slight nod of deference. “Sorry, Princess. I did not mean that to come out the way it sounded. What I meant was, you are a skilled archer. The king needs you most where you are the strongest.”

  “Doesn’t matter where the king needs me. I wish to learn the basics of sword fighting. Everyone in our group is adept with a sword. Even Alixa. I, too, wish to wield one with skill. The soldiers always say there is nothing more rewarding than cutting one’s enemy down while you look them straight in the eye. And we have a lot of enemies now, do we not?”

  The sword master studied Rissa in silence, but Ri could see the vein throbbing in her temple.

  “Your father would not be pleased to see you wielding a sword. He never wanted you to be a fighter.”

  “My father is dead, Avery.” Rissa’s words were as cold as the northern wind blowing through the barren branches above their heads. “It matters not what he wants, or does not want me to be. Not anymore.”

  “Please, my lady. I ask you to reconsider…”

  “You are in no position to ask me anything, sword master. I am the Princess of Dreach-Sciene and I command you to teach me.”

  Avery swallowed her next words at Rissa’s challenging stare, choosing to stay quiet on the matter. Instead, she sighed and pointed down.

  “As you wish, Princess. It’s all in your stance. Your footing and proper foot placement is key for balance. Always have your feet shoulder width apart. When you move, move so your legs spread apart. Never have your feet close to each other. Like so.” She demonstrated, and Rissa followed her movements.

  “Like this?”

  “Yes. Now hold your sword so you can handle it with ease. Keep your stance firm. The more grounded you are, the greater strength in your attacks. To keep your balance in battle, try to slide your feet rather than lift them up to take a step. Even a slight lifting of your heel reduces your grounding, so be cautious with how your feet are placed and used during each strike, otherwise you’ll give your opponent a chance to knock you over.”

  Rissa followed the command, concentrating on her stance and slowly swinging with the blade in front of her. “I see what you mean, Avery.”

  “Well done, Princess. But stand up straighter. Keeping your posture erect and torso forward will also keep you from losing your balance during your swings. It also allows you to avoid any blows from your opponent with a simple twist rather than forcing yourself to turn sideways, which will only allow you to evade an attack in one direction. You need to be able to move away from an attacker effortlessly, and in either direction.”

  Rissa swung the sword, sliding her feet across the wet ground and evading her pretend enemy as Avery looked on. Finally satisfied with her footwork, she raised a brow Avery’s way.

  “What else?”

  “Your sword, my lady. It’s not just a weapon, it’s your best protection. Missing just one block or parry can be fatal, so you need to protect yourself at all times. Maintain your sword in a position that runs from the bottom of your torso to the top of your head. Like so.” Avery moved Rissa’s hands, so the sword centered the middle of her body. “This will enable you to respond to an attack with speed and give you the best angles for your own strikes.”

  Avery stepped back as Rissa slashed at the air, time after time. Sparring with the enemy in her head with a viciousness only she could feel.

  “Bend your elbows,” Avery instructed. “Keep your sword closer to your body. That allows you to thrust and parry quickly. Extend your sword toward your opponent, not your arms.”

  Rissa did as told. Sweat beaded her brow as she moved and followed through on the commands Avery called to her. Over and over she repeated the moves, practicing until her uncertain actions evolved into the smooth flow of precise movement.

  “Well done, Princess,” Avery gave Rissa a slight smile of approval. “You learn quickly.”

  Rissa stopped, breathing deeply and wiping the sweat from her brow. “Yes, well any idiot can learn how to move with a sword. I want to learn to fight. Fight me, Avery.”

  “Princess, there is no need to duel with me. I can teach you to wield your blade well enough without actual sparring.”

  Rissa arched a brow. “And where is the fun in that? You didn’t train Trystan or Davi that way. As a matter of fact, I remember them spending a lot more times knocked over on their behinds than they spent standing on their own two feet when sparring with you. Train me like that.”

  “That was different.”

  “Different? How so? And don’t you dare tell me because they were boys. I will be sorely disappointed if that’s the case. You, of all people, Avery, should not let a person’s gender determine how good of a warrior they can be.”

  The sword master’s lips compressed even tighter in disapproval. “That is not what I meant at all, Princess. You very well know many of my best soldiers are women. I meant it was different because
the Prince and Davion were expected to be protectors of the realm. They were expected to train and fight. Your father did not wish that for you. He knew you were meant for greater things. Where Trystan was meant to be the sword and might of Dreach-Sciene, you were meant to be its heart and soul. It’s what your father wanted.”

  “Why must you make me repeat myself, Avery?” Rissa’s emerald gaze flashed with a mixture of anger and sorrow. “What my father wanted is a moot point since he is dead. Now pull your weapon.” She pointed the tip of her sword toward Avery’s throat, emphasizing her order.

  The sword master crossed her arms stubbornly over her armor-plated chest. “I will not.”

  “I command you, sword master, to fight with me.” Rissa’s eyes narrowed in threat. “Do not make me tell the king that you disobeyed a direct command.”

  With an audible grunt of disapproval, Avery unsheathed her blade, raising it just in time for Rissa’s attack. The echoing clang of blades roused the crows nesting in the trees above their heads and the birds flew off with an irritated squawking.

  The two women paid no attention. Rissa was too intent on throwing attack after angry attack Avery’s way, but Avery simply side stepped and parried every thrust, refusing to strike back.

  “Fight!” Rissa screamed as her blade descended once more, only to be intercepted by Avery’s. The jarring contact vibrated deep into Rissa’s shoulder. Avery shoved at the crossed blades, sending Rissa stumbling backward.

  “I said fight me, dammit!” Rissa ran at Avery, her sword extended in front of her. Avery calmly waited, sword held against her body in protection, until Rissa was close enough to thrust. The sword master deflected the wild slash and yanked the swords upward, sending Rissa’s blade sailing over their heads. In the same motion she kicked Rissa’s feet out from under her, landing the princess in a very undignified position on her backside in the mud.

  Stunned, Rissa glared up at the older woman as the watery mud trickled down her face, but she ignored its icy touch. They both kept staring, Rissa breathing heavy from her exertion while Avery regarded her in cool silence, not winded in the least. Finally, Rissa grunted ‘screw you’ as she grabbed a handful of mud and threw it Avery’s way. It splashed up the older woman’s trousers, but Avery paid it no mind as she sheathed her sword.

  “I warned you not to lift your feet. Never run at your opponent in anger. When you’re in a frazzled state of mind you cannot act with speed or clarity, understand?”

  Rissa wanted to scream in humiliation and frustration, but instead she gave a curt nod.

  “Good. Now, I know you wish to train for battle but it’s not something that can be done in a day. I will train you, Princess, since that is your wish, but it will be done on my terms. You will listen and learn, and you will not order me to rush it, agreed?”

  Again, Rissa nodded in agreement.

  Avery sighed as she shook her head. “After all the times you watched me set the boys on their asses, I’m so disillusioned you fell for it as well. I always thought you smarter than that.”

  A tiny smile tugged at Rissa’s lips as her fury ebbed away. “Sorry to disappoint you, Avery.”

  The sword master leaned down and held out a hand. Rissa took it, appreciating the help.

  “You could never disappoint me, Princess. Just remember, you do not stand by yourself in your grief.”

  For the first time Rissa saw the sadness in Avery’s eyes as well, and for a moment she forgot what it was like to be alone in her solitude.

  “Avery, I’m—”

  The apology died on her lips as the sound of a horn pierced the air. The long blast was soon followed by two quick bursts and the alarm on Avery’s face intensified Rissa’s unease.

  “What is it?” she asked, but Avery’s answer was interrupted by shouting. Cullenspire guards appeared from everywhere, rushing toward the front of the estate. Avery, still holding Rissa’s hand, started running as well, dragging Ri toward the manor.

  “Everyone take arms and man your positions,” a guard yelled as he led the others. His eyes fell on Avery and Rissa and he drew up short. “Sword master, we will appreciate your aid in this matter, but you must get the princess inside and hidden. We have enemies at the gate. Lord Eisner and his army are here.”

  Chapter 5

  The horn resonated through the library, startling Trystan from his seat. The book he’d been focusing on—to drive all troubling thoughts of his father and Alixa from his head—fell from his lap and to the floor unnoticed. The horn faded away, only to be replaced by footsteps pounding along the marble halls. Outside the window shouting erupted, and though he couldn’t make out any words, he knew it wasn’t anything good.

  He crossed the library in long strides and jerked the oak doors open, stepping into the hallway and right into the path of a running stable boy. The boy collided with him, but Trystan grabbed his shoulders to keep the slight child from falling on his rear.

  “What’s happening?” Trystan demanded, and the boy stared up at him with terrified eyes.

  “That’s the warning horn, sire. It means there are enemies at the gate.”

  “Enemies? What enemies?” He nearly shook the boy in his impatience.

  The child looked like he was about to pass out. “I… I don’t know, Your Majesty. Please… I gotta go find my ma.”

  Trystan let the boy go without another word and hurried through the marble hall.

  “Your Majesty.” Trystan paused as Lady Yaro appeared at the landing atop the spiral staircase dominating the hallway. Bunching her gown in both hands, she descended the stairs in her typical ladylike manner, the horn seemingly not affecting her poised demeanor at all.

  “Do you know what’s happening?” Trystan demanded of as soon as she hit the bottom step. A spark of fear in her eyes belied her calm facade.

  “No, but we’re about to find out.”

  In his mad rush, the young boy had left the main doors wide open. An icy gust whipped through the hall and the hair on Trystan’s arms stood on end. They hurried outside to the sight of Cullenspire’s guards rushing toward the closed gate. Without another word, Trystan headed in that direction as well; Lady Yaro tight on his heels.

  Alixa and Edric appeared from around the stables, hurrying to join them. Trystan gave her a sidelong glance as Alixa fell in step with him. Her worried, light eyes questioned his. “What’s happening?”

  “Enemy at the gate, but not certain who. Have you seen Rissa?”

  Alixa pointed with her chin and Trystan glanced over his shoulder at his approaching sister and Avery. Rissa’s gaze met his, and he sent her a tiny nod of reassurance. She reciprocated with a hard, emotionless stare.

  The Captain of the guard broke off from his men and headed their way, the grim expression on his face foreshadowing the bad news he was about to impart.

  “Giles, what’s happening?” Lady Yaro demanded. “Who is at the gate? Is it Dreach-Dhoun soldiers?”

  “No, My Lady. Although, I do believe it’s worse. Lord Eisner and his soldiers are here demanding entrance, or they will fight their way in.”

  “Eisner,” she spat in cold contempt. “How dare that bastard show his face here again?” She glanced over at Alixa’s slight gasp of fear, even as the young woman’s face turned to stone, hiding any emotions churning inside. Lady Yaro knew who Alixa was, of course. Nothing had been hidden from their benefactor, but she had not informed anyone that Eisner’s own daughter was residing under her roof. The mistress of Cullenspire kept the secret still as she questioned the captain. “Has he said what he wants? Does he know the rest of the royal family is here? Is that what he’s after?”

  “I don’t know, my Lady.”

  “Then go inquire,” she ordered.

  The captain gave a sharp nod, turned on his heel and hurried off. They didn’t have to wait to find out. Before the captain made it to the gate, a much despised voiced echoed through the air. It carried strong on the wind, like Eisner was already standing on this side of
the stone walls. He used a speaking trumpet no doubt, but its effect on Alixa was obvious as a slight tremor shook her thin frame.

  “Dona Yaro, I am sorely disappointed. I thought you and your family had already learned your lesson about defying me. Now I hear you are helping and harboring fugitives. Open the gate and allow us entrance, and I promise no harm will come to you or your family. I am here merely to converse with your royal guests.”

  Lady Yaro’s cool facade finally cracked as her panicked gaze fell on Trystan. “He knows you’re here. How is that possible?”

  “Did he manage to track us through Briggs’ magic?” Alixa asked, the slight quiver in her voice detectable only to Trystan.

  “I doubt that. I don’t think he has a seer in his grasp, plus Lonara is far too skilled to not have covered our trail successfully.”

  “Then how?” Edric questioned as his hand fell on the sword at his hip. Trystan cursed himself under his breath for having not worn his own weapon. A king should be prepared at all times, yet he’d foolishly left his sword in the library.

  Trystan’s shrug belied the fear reverberating through his chest. “I’m not sure.”

  “Only one way to know,” Rissa interjected as she gripped the sword she carried more firmly. “Open the gate and let them in.”

  “No! We can’t do that,” Alixa yelled, before bringing herself back under control. “I mean, no. He can’t be trusted, no matter what he promises.”

  “The girl’s right.” Lady Yaro nodded Alixa’s way. “The last time he entered those gates, I lost my husband. I will not lose more today.”

  Trystan ignored both women as he turned his focus to the captain of the guards. “How many men do you have here, captain?”

  “Just shy of a dozen, sire.”

  “And outside the gate?”

  “Fifty or more.”

  “Then it appears we don’t have a say in the matter. They will enter one way or another. Boy!” He called to the one of the young guards standing on the fringe of soldiers awaiting orders. The young man looked up in fear. “Fetch my sword from the library. The rest of you, prepare for battle. Captain, do you have archers?”