Into the Fire: The Complete Series by Mia West

Author:Mia West
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2020-03-13T05:00:00+00:00

The boy could not have been more reluctant.

“Strike me,” Marc ordered.

At least Matthias knew better than to argue. But he did close his eyes. Marc batted at the sword with his shield, and Matthias dropped his weapon. “Ouch.”

“Don’t close your eyes. And hold on to your sword.”

“Yes, Master.”

Marc studied Matthias as he bent to pick up the blade. “Was that insolence?”

Matthias looked up in surprise. “No, Father.”

Of course it hadn’t been. Matthias probably didn’t know how to be insolent. Marc was only on edge. His son’s future was at stake. He softened his tone a fraction. “Let’s review your stance. Do you have a good grip on your shield?”

“I think so.”

“Hold it more forward. Your right hand is your dominant one, and so your left foot will provide the stability under your strike.”

“Balance.”

“Yes. Otherwise any opponent will topple you like a sand castle. Show me.”

Matthias assumed a neutral stance.

“Relax your sword arm.”

Matthias tried and nearly dropped the sword. He caught it, though, shook out his arm, and Marc had a sudden memory of teaching Wolf these same maneuvers. “Don’t cock your elbow. No, you can bend it, but don’t strike from your elbow. You’ll have less range and no power at all.”

Matthias tried again.

“Better. Raise your blade and bring it down on my shield.”

It was little more than the previous tap, but at least he hadn’t chopped at it. “You won’t injure me. Do it again.”

He did, a little harder.

“Hit me, damn it!”

Matthias raised his sword and swung down on Marc’s shield hard enough to numb his wrist.

“Ouch. Good!”

Matthias stared at him in dismay.

“Now a jab. Go! Strike!”

Eyes wide with panic, he jabbed at Marc, who easily fended off the tip of his blade, knocking him back a few steps. “And an upswing. Hard from underneath. Come! Strike!”

Matthias let out an involuntary cry and swung upward. Marc shoved his shield at the ungainly swing, but Matthias’s reach was off. Not only did his sword not connect with Marc’s shield, it flew from his hand to flip end over end above his head. Grabbing the boy’s collar, Marc dragged him several feet backward, and the sword landed harmlessly in the dirt.

“Why did you let go?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I panicked.”

“You did.”

“I’m sorry, Master.”

He was trembling under Marc’s fist, which still clutched his shirt. Flexing his hand, he let go of the tunic, smoothed it against his back. The boy’s gaze slid sideways, toward the chuckles coming from across the yard.

“Matthias.”

His eyes met Marc’s. He was trying very hard to stand bravely. “Yes, Master?”

“You have a good stance. When you don’t panic, you have good form. We’ll do it again. And again. And again. It will come, with practice. Do you understand?”

“I think so. You mean I’ll become accustomed to it.”

“That’s right. Soon, your sword and shield will feel as much a part of your body as your arms. Extensions of them.”

“Like levers.”

“Well, yes.” He had never taught that way, but this was Matthias. He might as well use what the boy had been learning in his lessons all these years.

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