By Darkness Hid by Jill Williamson

Author:Jill Williamson [Williamson, Jill]
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Publisher: Marcher Lord Press
Published: 2009-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

13

Over the next few days, Achan woke to his usual chores and tonic with Poril, then sparred daily against Prince Gidon in the inner bailey courtyard, under the captive eyes of the noble tournament guests. He fought hard, despite his tender shoulder wound.

Although the prince never left him unscathed, Achan didn’t receive another cut as deep as he had the first day. He was quick to remember His Majesty’s title when he yielded, and the prince was slightly more forgiving with his final blows. Still, the multiple cuts and bruises on Achan’s body made him feel like a patchwork quilt. He would have much rather fought other squires out in the tournament pens. He wondered how far Shung had made it.

Each day the crowd grew, though Gren had not been able to come and watch again due to the amount of work she had. But on the final day of the tournament week, Lady Tara came to watch with Silvo, Jaira, and Bran.

Achan couldn’t resist the spunk that rose inside him in the presence of Lady Tara. He kept her light blue gown in his side vision without actually staring at her. Maybe he could manage to speak with her after today’s match. One thing was certain: he wasn’t about to lose today if he could help it, although he’d never beaten Prince Gidon and his body ached for a month of rest.

Again Achan took the field with Prince Gidon. Chora stood beside Sir Kenton at the edge of the field. The other seven Kingsguards sat in their usual spot along the bench. Gidon wore a quilted, red jerkin over a white shirt. The question was, would the prince manage to keep it clean today?

Their swords clashed. Achan’s and the prince’s feet trampled the grass. The crowd gasped or cheered on every cut. Achan remembered Sir Gavin’s counsel. He was never to think about his opponent’s station or skill. He was never to fear what might happen. He was to be confident in his own ability, remember his training, and do his best to win.

Achan had another advantage over his opponent. Since that first day, the prince had grown predictable in his movements. His lone strategy was to push Achan back into the wall or the stands, then strike. As long as Achan kept circling to the side, the match would drag on and on.

Achan also knew that Prince Gidon favored strikes from the right. Perhaps if Achan switched to a left-handed grip for the briefest moment, it would throw the prince off enough so Achan could strike. He’d have to be careful. Because the Prince wore no armor, any hit could kill. And killing the Crown Prince would surely be a death sentence.

Achan had heard the whispers: the people were saying that these demonstrations were rehearsed. Prince Gidon either didn’t think so or didn’t care. Achan did. He wasn’t about to let Lady Tara or Silvo think him an actor.

Achan worked up to his attack, waiting for the perfect moment.

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