Free the Darkness (King's Dark Tidings Book 1) (25 page)

“Certainly, sir, but if I might ask, why do you not use your
own blades?”

Rezkin did not wish to draw attention to his swords,
especially by this lot, so he avoided the question.

“My
friend
, Tam, over there, wishes to join the army,
which is why he is heading to Kaibain. He has no sword of his own and has not
learned any techniques. I thought to instruct him on the way since we will have
extra time on our hands. Naturally, we will need a couple of blades to practice
with that are in the style and weight he should expect,” Rezkin explained.

“I see. That makes sense. We will pull a couple of blades
from the stores below. Will you require any armor or other weapons, sir?” asked
Lieutenant Jimson.

“No, I think learning the sword will be enough for now,
especially on this moving vessel,” replied Rezkin.

While the soldier was retrieving the weapons, Rezkin
retrieved Tam. He was sitting on a barrel talking to Frisha.

“Tam,” he said. “I require your presence on the quarterdeck.
It is time to begin your training.”

“Training?” Tam asked in confusion.

Rezkin furrowed his brow. “You
do
wish to be a
soldier, do you not? You need to learn the sword. Ideally, I would start your
training with other
Skills
, but the voyage will be short, and you have
little time. Come. We can spend a couple of hours before lunch working on basic
techniques.”

“
You’re
going to train me? Are you any good?” Tam
asked. Obviously, he knew Rezkin carried swords, but he had never seen the
young warrior actually use them.

Rezkin shrugged, “Compared to what?”

“I want to learn,” Frisha interrupted.

Rezkin was surprised but pleased. He appreciated that the
woman wished to learn one of the important
Skills
that so many
outworlders seemed to take for granted. If Frisha learned to protect herself,
then it would make his job much easier.

He smiled in approval, and it somehow felt less forced than
usual. “That is excellent, Frisha. You will come as well, then.”

“What? You can’t use a sword, Frisha,” Tam objected. “It’s
dangerous and you could get hurt.”

Frisha placed her hands on her hips and turned to Tam in
challenge, “I can certainly learn to use a sword as well as you. Besides, I
think the idea is that I can learn to protect myself so I
don’t
get
hurt.”

Tam frowned and turned to Rezkin, “Don’t you have some kind
of rule about this? You seem to have rules about everything else.”

Rez nodded. “Of course, let me think…
Rules 47, 96, 164,
233, and 239
should be sufficient,” he said as he ticked them off on his
fingers.

“There, see,” said Tam.

Frisha pursed her lips and scowled at her young companion.
“And, what are all
those
rules, then?” she asked irritably.

“
Have the necessary
Skills
for the task, Always be
prepared, Do not depend on others, You are the weapon,
and
Protect
yourself before others to the exclusion of Rule 1
,” he recited by rote.

Frisha turned to Tam with a smug grin, “See? He supports
me
.”

Shocked, Tam exclaimed, “Rez, you were supposed to back me
up!”

Rezkin shook his head. “If Frisha is willing to learn the
Skills,
then it is my duty to help her to do so. To actively try to prevent her from
learning the
Skills
would mean that you are hindering her in growing to
her full potential. Consider this. If you prevent her from learning to protect
herself and she dies when she might have been able to save herself otherwise,
then you have effectively killed her.”

Tam’s face paled at the thought. “I-I never thought about it
like that.” He glanced back and forth between Rezkin and Frisha who were both
standing resolute and finally conceded. “Very well. Just…please don’t let her
get hurt.”

“If she gets hurt, then she will learn her lessons more
quickly. But, since there are no healers aboard, you will both have to strive
to adhere to
Rule 6.
”

Tam rubbed his jaw. He thought he had heard
Rule 6
before but could not remember what it was. “And that would be…?”

Rez looked directly into Frisha’s eyes and said, “Do. Not.
Get. Injured.”

Both of Rez’s companions laughed as though something
humorous had occurred. He did not see what was funny about getting injured.
Many injuries could be life threatening, especially when they involved swords.

The young warrior led his
friends
to the quarterdeck.
The riverboat was moving steadily down the center of the wide channel, now, and
while it was swift, it was also fairly steady. Rezkin started by showing them
both the proper way to position their feet to maintain balance and had them
move their arms in various motions to simulate sword techniques. He also taught
them how to fall properly so that they did not get injured. When Lieutenant
Jimson arrived, he saw Frisha participating in the lessons and looked at Rezkin
quizzically but said nothing.

The lieutenant stood back and nodded often as Rezkin spoke
and adjusted his students’ motions and stances. To the lieutenant, it was
obvious the young man knew what he was doing. In fact, he decided that some of
his own men might benefit from the instruction. While recruits did learn basic
techniques, the training period was short and left much to be desired. For the
most part, most of the infantry simply learned enough not to drop their swords
at the first sign of trouble. He eventually asked if a few of his men could
join Rezkin in the lessons. Rezkin simply shrugged and nodded his assent. Who
was he to stand in the way of men practicing their
Skills
?

By the time lunch was announced, Frisha and Tam were tired
and sore. Frisha could not believe how exhausting the work was, and she had not
even had the chance to hold a sword, yet! After a light lunch of fish and
fruit, they broke from their training for an hour to allow the food to settle.

Rezkin examined the proffered blades and found them wanting.
They were bulk quality, general issue – easy to rust, easy to break. It
was what he had to work with, though, and it would suffice. For the remainder
of the afternoon, Rezkin instructed his companions and a few of the younger
recruits on their basic techniques.

At the end of the day, Rezkin and the other men hauled
buckets cool water out of the river and dumped them over their heads to rinse
away the sweat. The cooks vacated the galley for a short while to allow Frisha
to wash herself with river water in a small tub. That night, Rezkin laid down
in the bunk closest to the door, while Tam insisted Frisha sleep in the bunk
furthest back near the wall. Half way through the night, though, Frisha ordered
Tam to switch with her after the young man had already fallen out of his bunk
three times. She asserted that at least by the wall he would only have one
direction to fall. It must have been effective, because Tam did not fall out of
his bunk for the rest of the night.

The next day was much the same as the previous day. At
first, Tam and Frisha both complained quite loudly that they were too tired and
sore to practice. Frisha was nearly incapable of lifting her arms high enough
to comb her hair, much less hold a sword. Tam tried to be brave and push
through the pain and fatigue, but it was easily apparent that he was miserable.

On the second night, Rezkin stayed on deck late to practice
his own forms. There were no lanterns on the quarterdeck so his practice was
completely enclosed by the dark of night. He was used to night training, so it
did not hinder him, and he did not have to worry over anyone getting a good
look at his blades. Unseen by the young warrior, many of the soldiers and
sailors watched his silhouette dance about in the moonlight with unparalleled
speed and grace.

When Rezkin returned to the berth, Tam and Frisha were
already abed. He could hear Tam snoring softly, but Frisha was quiet as a mouse
on the other side of the canvas. One of the lanterns had been left aglow for
his benefit. Rezkin removed his belt and settled his swords against his bunk. He
cast off his boots and stretched his arms and torso as he shucked his tunic.
Finally, he removed his pants and replaced them with a pair that was clean and
dry.

Frisha kept quiet as she spied on Rezkin. She knew she
should not be looking, but she could only see a vague form, anyway. The
warrior’s dark silhouette slid across the golden canvas as he removed his
clothing. His magnificent torso stretched like a giant black cat, and her mind
superimposed the image of all those perfect muscles and taut skin that was
burned into her memory back at the inn.

Frisha blushed furiously when he removed his pants. Although
she could not see any detail through the canvas, her imagination got the best
of her. She knew he would never do such a thing, but if Rezkin did ever
proposition her, she was not sure she could refuse him. She briefly wondered
how many women had fallen for his charm and devastatingly handsome looks. A
surge of jealousy washed through her, and she put those thought out of her
mind. Instead, she settled for fantasizing as Rezkin snuffed out the light.

On the third day upon the river, the wind was fierce.
Rezkin’s long black hair continuously slipped from its queue and lashed him in
the face. Frisha pulled her cloak around her, but her hood repeatedly caught in
the wind. Rezkin remember the scarf he had purchased for her and retrieved it
from his pack. Catching her attention, he handed it to her without a word.

Frisha took the soft, silky scarf from Rezkin’s hand and
stared at it for a moment as though trying to figure out what it was. She
blinked a few times and then looked up into crystal blue eyes set into a
perfectly sculpted face. His black hair fell around him and hovered in the
wind. In that moment, she could not tell if he were truly angel or wraith, but
he could not possibly be a simple man.

“This is a woman’s scarf,” she said in surprise.

Rezkin cocked his head, as he was wont to do when he was
confused or considering. “Yes?”

“Where did you get it?” she asked.

“In Justain,” he stated.

Frisha blinked again. Rezkin’s way of answering questions
simply and without embellishment could be frustrating.

“Why?” she asked. Had this belonged to another woman? A
lover, perhaps? Her stomach soured at the thought.

“As you can see, it gets windy on a boat. I did not want you
to catch a chill,” Rezkin replied.

“You bought this for
me?
” she asked in surprise.

Rezkin looked at the scarf and then back at the young woman.
Surely she did not think he bought a woman’s scarf for himself.

“Of course,” he said. “For whom else would I make such a
purchase?”

Frisha was suddenly exuberant. Her smile lit up her face as
she caressed the delicate material. “Thank you, Rez. This is…just…you are so
thoughtful. Thank you so much.”

Rezkin reminded himself that women, in particular, seemed
overly concerned with styles and colors and modern fashion. His lessons in
proper dress for various functions and the constantly fluctuating trends in
court fashion had been endlessly boring. He wanted to make sure she approved of
this item in case he had to purchase such provisions for her in the future.

“Do you like it?” he inquired. “It is the same color as the
tunic you were wearing the night we met, so I thought you would approve.”

Frisha was elated. He actually remembered what she wore when
they met, and he had shopped for her. Rezkin’s concern for her comfort was
nearly overwhelming. It was all so utterly romantic. “It’s absolutely perfect,”
she said emphatically.

Alarm shot through him when Frisha unexpectedly leaned into
him. He just barely managed to contain his instincts to defend himself and
remove her from his personal space. Her body pressed against his, and he
reminded himself that physical contact was normal to outworlders and she meant
him no harm. His muscles were tense, but he forced himself to breath calmly. It
was just like grappling. Sometimes it was necessary for bodies to come into
contact with each other. He was not sure why it was necessary at this moment,
however. Frisha pressed her lips against his cheek and whispered, “Thank you,”
into his ear.

The besotted young woman returned to her berth, combed out
her hair and wrapped the scarf over her head and around her neck, securing it
tightly so it would not blow away. She examined herself in a small hand mirror
and smiled with glee. Did this mean Rezkin wanted to court her? Something so
lovely and personal could easily be considered an appropriate courting gift.
Usually, the potential suitor would gift a woman with something she could wear.
And, she had accepted. Frisha sighed happily. She had been swooning after
Rezkin since she first saw him, but she had only fantasized that he might
return her favor.

Tam entered the berth and scrutinized the smitten girl who
was like a sister to him. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

Frisha, suddenly hauled from a most pleasant daydream, asked
in surprise, “What?”

“I saw what happened out there,” he said, waving toward the
stairs. “If you have already decided on Rez, then what is the point in going to
Kaibain. Besides, do you really think your father or uncle will approve?”

“I thought you liked Rez,” Frisha stated in dismay.

Tam huffed, his fists clenched in frustration. “I do like
him, but that doesn’t mean you can just up and court him.” He shook his head as
he remembered all the things he kept meaning to ask the mysterious young
warrior.  “We still don’t know anything about him!”

“Of course we do. He’s a gentleman, and he’s dedicated and
compassionate and an excellent teacher. He lives by a Code, and he wants to
protect and honor both of us,” Frisha replied as her eyes sought out her
fantasies in the space between them.