She often wondered if she were doing the right thing. She had no doubt that a conventional life would be far, far easier.
And I wouldn’t have to rise with the sun unless I really wanted to.
The wooden practice blades were nowhere in sight, which was a little odd. Kero exchanged puzzled glances with Daren, then looked away before the glance could develop into anything more intimate.
I don’t know how much longer I can keep this as “just friends,” she thought, staring at the sandy floor of the practice ring. Grandmother was worried about me getting my heart broken, but it seems as though it’s going to be the other way around. I really like Daren—but—
But. Blessed Agnira, I’m a cold-hearted bitch. I ought to be on my knees with thanks that he’s in love with me, or thinks he is. Instead, all I can think of is “how can I pry him loose?”
On the other hand, Tarma was right. There is no way I would ever be allowed to marry him—
Not that I’d want to.
Tarma’s entrance broke into her ruminations, and she looked up gratefully at her teacher. All this thinking is making my head hurt. Daren, who had been reaching for her arm, stiffened, and pulled away a little, and Kero breathed a sigh of relief.
Tarma’s eyes flicked toward Daren, though she gave no other sign that she’d noticed him moving. “I think you’re ready now for something a little more serious,” the Shin’a’in said gravely. “It’s about time you both got used to handling the weapons you’re going to fight with. Not that you’re going to practice all the time with them,” she added, holding up a long hand to forestall any questions, “But you’re going to be working out at least a candlemark every day with them. I can approximate the weight and balance of your real weapons with your practice swords, but I can’t duplicate it—and your bodies will know the difference.”
She handed Daren a long-sword, two-edged, but with a point as well. The blade was magnificent, and the jewel in the hilt, a ruby so dark as to be nearly black, was worth Kero and all of her family combined.
For her part, she took up Need with a certain amount of trepidation. Although she felt a kind of tingle when she first set hand to hilt, the sword showed no other signs of life.
Which suited her very well. Over the course of that single night, she’d had her fill of being the tool instead of the wielder.
“Tarma,” she said, hesitantly. “Is this a good idea? I mean, I thought I was supposed to be learning swordsmanship, but if I’m going to use Need—”
Tarma chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. First off, you’ll be bouting aginst me, not Daren, and she won’t let you harm a woman. Secondly, she works in peculiar ways. Now that you’ve established your talents as a swordswoman, she’ll never help you fight again. Ah, but magic now, that’s where she’ll protect you. So far as I know, there isn’t a magicker in the world can harm you while you hold her.”
“So that’s how it works,” she murmured without thinking.
“Exactly. That’s why she did both for you when you went after Lordan’s bride; you were neither fish nor fowl yet.” Tarma grinned. “Now, since she’s no more than a very good blade in your hands—defend yourself, girl!”
Blessed Agnira, it’s been a long day. Kero hung her sword in its rack, pulled her armor off and draped it over its stand, and stretched. Tarma was right about having to get used to Need’s weight and balance. There’s a distinct difference between her and that practice blade. She stretched again, reaching for the ceiling, feeling shoulders pop. That hot bath is going to feel so—
She started for the bathing chamber—and realized she was still holding her sword.
That’s odd. She frowned. I could have sworn I hung her up.
She turned back toward the wall rack, and tried to place the sword in its cradle. Tried.
She couldn’t make her hands let go.
“Oh, no you don’t,” she muttered. “You’ve done that to me once. No more.”
She put the sword in the rack, and concentrated on freeing her left hand, one finger at a time.
Let. Go. Of. Me. She stared at her hand as if it didn’t belong to her, concentrating until she had a headache, a sharp pain right between her eyebrows.
One by one, she loosened her fingers; one by one she pried them off the scabbard. As she released the last of them, she felt something in the back of her mind stretch, and snap.
She pulled her right hand away, quickly, before the sword could take control of her again.
“I’ll thank you to keep your notions to yourself,” she told it frostily, ignoring the incongruity of talking to an inanimate object. Then she turned, and walked deliberately back to the bathing chamber. She “heard” something, as she “heard” thoughts, faint and at the very edge of her abilities to sense it. It sounded like someone grumbling in her sleep ... disturbed, but not awakened.
She ignored it and drew her bath.
Whatever it was, it went away while she was undressing, and by the time she slid into the hot water she wondered if she’d only imagined it.
But as she lay back, relaxing, she began to feel a kind of pull on her mind, as if something had hold of her and was trying to tug her in a particular direciton.
Since the direction was her bedroom, she had no doubt who that “someone” was.
She ignored it, and it grew more persistent; then painful, like a headache in the back of her skull. Stop that, she thought sharply, sitting up in the bath. The pain eased off, but the tugging was still there. She sat back and thought for a few moments, then she put up her very best shields, the shields even Warrl had not been able to break through.
The tugging stopped. She waited for several moments, but whatever the sword was doing did not seem to be able to penetrate the shielding.
You ruled my grandmother, sword. You’re not going to rule me. She closed her eyes, leaned back again, and let the bath relax all her muscles for her.
Finally the water cooled, and she felt relaxed enough to sleep. She opened her eyes and stared at the wall, thinking. I can’t keep shields like this up forever. If I’m lucky, I won’t have to. If I’m not, though, this is going to be an interesting little power struggle.
She lowered her shields, slowly, waiting for the sword to resume its insistent nagging. You may be older, with all manner of magic behind you, she thought at it, but I’ll bet I’m a lot more stubborn than you are.
Nothing.
It’s a good thing Daren was too tired after practice to be interested in bed games tonight.
She waited for a moment, then left the shields down and climbed out of her bath. This is too easy. It’s not going to let me off this easily. She dried herself, and went back into her room to lie down on the bed. If I were Need, what would I do? A straight-on attempt didn’t work ... anytime she starts on me again, I can bring my shields up and block her out. So the next logical move would be to try something subtle.