Empire of Ashes

Chapter XXIII - Come to Pass

"Keep your shield up," Samira snapped for the umpteenth time.

My shield was up. At least, it was now. I managed to raise it just in time to catch a backhanded blow intended for my shoulder. After a quick side-step and a flourish of my blade which accomplished very little, I was feeling incredibly pleased with myself. She hadn't hit me once ... in all the half minute we had been sparring.

Every day when the army shuddered into motion, we would find some excuse to catch an hour or two's peace in the forest. With only the birds and bees for company, Samira and I crossed swords. At first, she had beaten me black and blue within five minutes. I would slip into Temris's bed every night aching terribly, and I had found it increasingly difficult to hide the bruises from him. But after two weeks of forced march and little else to do, I was beginning to make progress. More recently, Samira had gone to sleep with bruises of her own. Albeit only when she slowed her pace to match mine.

Left, right, high, low. The blows rained down in quick succession, all aimed to kill. With a sharpened sword and a violent intent, every single one of them would have left me bleeding out in the dirt. She had an instinct for battle I would never be able to match. But then, I didn't need to. I just wanted to be able to stand against Anglian soldiers. Most of the conscripted peasants had little training, so it wasn't too much of a stretch.

But I didn't have the most patient teacher. She left no room for error or foolishness, to the extent where I had thought she held some unknown grudge against me, until the morning I had dragged Melia along. For a highborn girl who lived in an army, self-defence was a necessity. But Samira had sent her off in tears after a few minutes, saying she didn't tolerate cry-babies. I found it hard to argue.

"Shield up!"

This time, I wasn't fast enough. The blunted tip of the sword caught my abdomen. But wait — that was below my shield. I stood panting in the dust, feeling the icy cold of the steel even through my shirt.

"Cheater," I growled.

Samira dug the tip into my flesh. Just hard enough to hurt. "You didn't have to listen to me. I'm the enemy — of course I'm going to lie."

The pressure vanished from my skin, leaving behind the beginnings of a bruise. I threw down my shield and peeled off my gloves but kept the sword close at hand. On a few occasions, she had attacked me the moment I lowered my guard.

As she settled herself on the grass, Samira gulped down water from a skin. "We'll arrive at the Pass today, you know."

"I know." I flopped down beside her and claimed my share of the water. "It's about damn time."

"For two days, the army will rest. Then the battle will begin. Do you think you're ready for that?"

"Yes?" It was more a question than a statement. How was I supposed to know? She was the teacher — surely that was her call, not mine.

"Wrong," Samira said harshly. "No one is ever ready. You could train your entire life and still be unprepared. Battle is chaos. People screaming, killing, dying."

I shuffled in place awkwardly. "Well, that was all incredibly dramatic, so I'm almost sorry to tell you I won't be fighting. Temris has given me the most important job of all."

"And what's that?"

A careless shrug. "Lighting the barbecue. He's trying to keep me safe for some reason. It can't be anything to do with sentiment because he's letting you fight. I think he may have a task that only a slave can accomplish."

Her eyes rose sharply to meet mine. "Tem doesn't let me do anything."

"No," I agreed. "Anyway, he won't tell me what this task is. I don't suppose you will?"