Dragon & Dreamer | ONC 2023 honourable mention

8 - Like a son

Snow had been falling all morning, and the cold rendered the cobblestones of the yard slippery. Liha parried his adversary's blow with his wooden blade and used his momentum to whirl around his axis and attack from the left. This tactic allowed him an advantage against right-handed opponents, he found. The move worked. The blunt training blade slammed into his sparring partner's ribs. With a sharp weapon, he would have suffered a deep wound. As it was, he back-stepped, clutching his side, slipped and fell to his bum in the slush. "Ouch."

Liha reached out to help him up. "Sorry. That must have hurt."

"It's fine. We're here to learn." The young man patted the snow from his pants. "Another round?"

Liha nodded, but they didn't get to engage in a second fight.

"Stop, everyone, and listen." The sharp voice of the weapon master called the trainees together. "I know you only started your education a moon ago. Still, each of you has learned a lot during this time. And I'm sure you'll learn much more where we are headed."

He paused and scanned the two dozen young warriors assembled around him. "You will join the king's campaign against the hordes of Lelai."

One moment a stunned silence hung over the yard before the men cheered and clattered their training blades onto their shields, the ruckus drowning everything else the master would have added.

Liha didn't join, but the fire of determination smouldering in his chest received new fuel. On the march against the king's enemies, he would make the mercenaries pay for their cruelty and get his revenge.

The officer waited for the excitement to die before he addressed them again. "You will move to the field camp tomorrow with a guard detachment. So, use the day to say your goodbyes to family, friends, and lovers. Gather your equipment and be here at sunrise. That's all."

When he left the yard, a buzz of agitated conversation started. Liha stood aside. After the first bad days, he adapted and earned the respect of most of his fellow trainees. He knew his friendship with Berim and Pentim's respect had helped, although he didn't see the warrior and the prince often. But coming from a small hamlet in the far north of Kelèn, he had little in common with the sons of Penira nobility and wealthy merchants.

With a shrug, he left the yard to fetch his coat in the dormitory. On his way out of the fortress, he mulled over the changes his life had undergone this last moon. His time had been filled with fighting lessons, and he had worked hard to catch up with his peers. As Berim pointed out, good swordsmanship was more than knowing the blunt from the pointy end of a weapon. Liha knew he had a long way to go until perfection. But perfection had to wait—war came first.

The thrilling news put a spring into his step as he walked down the cobbled streets to the lower quarters and turned into the narrow alley where his oldest friend in the city lived.

Liha rushed up the stairs two steps at a time and knocked at Naiin's door. There was no answer. Too agitated to wait on the doorstep, he climbed to the little roof garden where he had spent his first night with Dánirah. He hadn't thought about the young woman for a while, but in this secret spot, it felt as if she stood beside him. Had she reunited with her mother? He hoped she was fine up north, where the crimson veil of war was about to cover the land.

Along the rickety railing, someone had placed a row of plant pots. The flowers or herbs they contained had withered and succumbed to the frost, but with their caps of pristine snow, the pots looked like a row of dwarfs—or brave soldiers. Liha chuckled. Even his perception of mundane things shifted because of his training. He bent over the railing to look down into the alley, cutting through the sea of roofs like a perilous gorge full of dark secrets. The people hustling along on urgent business looked tiny from up here. He searched for Naiin but didn't spot her.