"Nightbird-Elbryan-taught it to me," she explained. "The sword dance. All of it. We fought together in movements perfectly complementary."
That raised Andacanavar's bushy eyebrows, and he nodded and said, "hmm," repeatedly.
"Lady Dasslerond was not pleased," Pony admitted, then she laughed. "Not at all!"
"I say this not in jest, my friend, but I suspect that the lady considered quieting you in the most extreme manner possible," the ranger replied.
"I doubt you not at all," Pony replied in all seriousness. "I suspect that Belli'mar Juraviel intervened on my behalf, and that, because of him, the lady trusts that I will keep well the elven secret."
"No small faith!" said Andacanavar. "Are you the new ranger of the Timberlands?" he asked jokingly.
But Pony's face remained serious. "Belli'mar explained that such a thing would not be possible, that I was too old to be considered for the training," she said.
"But they let you live and keep well their secret, and that is no small thing!" Andacanavar said with a great laugh, and Pony joined him.
"Then that weapon strapped at your hip is for more than show?" the ranger asked a moment later, a wry look crossing his face. "Liam fancies himself a bit of a swordsman," he said. "You think you might show me? "
Pony considered the challenge for a moment. She thought that she should refuse, remembering her promise to Belli'mar Juraviel to keep the sword dance private and secret. And yet, this was a ranger bidding her on, one who knew the dance, obviously.
"What is it?" Andacanavar's companion asked, seeing the questioning expressions as he walked up to the pair, dropping a wild turkey he had shot beside him.
"Right here?" Pony asked Andacanavar. "It is crowded with trees."
"Does not the dance take the entire battlefield into consideration?" the ranger asked.
"What battlefield? " asked the smaller man.
"Your battlefield," Andacanavar replied, standing up and brushing the snow from his doeskin breeches. "Yours and hers. Our new friend has told me some interesting things about her background, and I would like to test her here and now."
"Then the battlefield is your own," the other man protested.
Andacanavar gave a laugh. "My fighting style is too disparate from that which she claims for me to take any measure. Come then, Liam, draw your sword and dirk and let the woman have her way with you."
The man looked at Pony curiously, to see her brushing the snow off her breeches and then drawing a truly beautiful, slender sword.
He nodded. "Be gentle," he said to Pony.
"Never in all my life," she replied, and she turned sideways, on guard, her left foot back, her right leg before her. She rocked over her knee, finding her balance.
"And if I unintentionally hurt her, will you chop me down, Andacanavar? " the smaller man asked.
The ranger gave a chuckle-and he meant it, for just from Pony's stance, Andacanavar understood that his companion's fears were not likely to come to fruition.
"I will try not to cut you, and expect the same," the man said. "First blood, if it comes to that, first advantage if not."
Pony didn't bother to answer, just rocked back and forth, feeling her balance, remembering her many training sessions with Elbryan, working the dance naked in the morning light, remembering the many fights she had won beside her lover, their movements too harmonious, too synchronous, for any enemy to stand against them.
She felt bi'nelle dasada flowing through her again, for the first time since that awful day, but instead of bringing back all the bad memories and fears and sense of loss, it felt to Pony as if she were with her lover again. It felt wonderful!
"Are you ready? " she heard her opponent ask. From his tone, she realized that he must have already asked that question several times.
She smiled and nodded, and Liam came on suddenly, a side slash with the sword, followed by a sudden short dagger thrust.
Pony easily had Defender in line to parry the slash, then angled her sword the other way, abbreviating the dagger move.
The man smiled, obviously impressed. Pony came on suddenly, a lunge and thrust that became a sideways slap that sent his sword wide, followed by another quick step forward, Defender's tip coming ahead briefly, then angling down, parrying his dagger parry before it could begin.
The man was quick, though, and he brought his sword back in, recovering from his surprise, and went on the sudden forward attack.
But the sword dance was flowing mightily through Pony, filling her with a joy she had feared she would never know again. On came Liam's sword thrust and dagger thrust, but Pony skittered back, her legs working fast, her upper body hardly moving at all, in perfect balance.
Liam came on even farther, seeing that she was running out of room, with a clump of birch trees close behind.
Pony backed right up to them, and as her opponent closed, she came forward with a thrust-a measured thrust, for she ended it abruptly, her left hand catching hold of the birch behind her, all her momentum shifting suddenly, so that she spun around the bending tree.
"Well done," her opponent congratulated her. But before he even finished his salute, sword to forehead, he had to launch his weapon out in a desperate parry, for Pony leaped through the birch tangle and came on once again-thrust, thrust, thrust.
He parried each stroke in succession, barely, and now found himself backing fast, and with far less balance than Pony had shown.
She pressed her advantage, rushing forward, sword stabbing for his belly, for his chest, for his face, and then his belly again, and with his using both his weapons frantically to fend off her blows.
Now her momentum had seemingly played out, and she should have retreated into a defensive stance again, but she did not, instead coming forward even more aggressively.
It appeared as if she had erred, and her opponent, obviously no novice to battle, took the initiative and the offensive, easily parrying one unbalanced thrust and reversing his footing, coming forward fast, sword leading, dagger following in two commanding thrusts that hit…
Nothing.
And Liam stopped, stunned, for in his flurry he had blocked his own vision and now he couldn't even locate his opponent!
Then he felt the tip of a sword against the back of his neck, just under his head, and he froze in place.
"I would call that an advantage!" Andacanavar roared. Liam dropped sword and dagger and shrugged.
"No blood, I pray," he said to Pony as she walked by, staring intently into her deep blue eyes.
"It will heal," she promised, and she sheathed Defender and moved beside the ranger.
He nodded approvingly.
"Nightbird gave you a great gift," he remarked.
Pony nodded her agreement, for right then, feeling that tingling power ol the sword dance coursing through her, she gained an even greater appreciation of the gift.
"Was that all he taught you? " Andacanavar asked.
Pony looked at him, not understanding. How could she begin to list all the things that she and Elbryan had taught each other, or had learned together?
"Your hesitance alone answers my question," the ranger said. "He did not teach you, and so I shall. Tomorrow."
Pony looked at him skeptically.
"Trust me on this, woman," the ranger bade her. "You will find more than you expect, I promise." He paused and held Pony's stare for a long time, while her expression went through skepticism and trepidation and then into some measure of hopefulness.
"Tomorrow?" he asked again.
"Early," Pony promised, and she gathered her things and took up Greystone's reins and walked away.
"A remarkable woman," Andacanavar's companion, who was not Liam O'Blythe, remarked as Pony and Greystone disappeared into the forest.
"Skilled and determined, and a feast for a man's eyes," the ranger replied, looking down at his friend. "I told you last night that she would beat you, and easily."