FrostFire (16 page)

M
y life with the hill guard – as
one
of the hill guard, albeit a trainee – settled into a routine very quickly. Every now and again I would stop what I was doing, suddenly breathless, to look around in disbelief at how suddenly my life and all that I knew had changed.

There were other times when everything that had come before – the lifetime of hunger, hurts and hard scrabble – seemed like nothing more than the sore scratchiness of a fading nightmare.

I couldn’t decide which sensation disturbed me the most.

I was surprised, and happy, to find that Arian did not try to shirk on our deal. He would have had reason enough. Although the hill guards’ main mission of capturing the rebel leaders – including Luca’s brother, about whom I had still learned nothing – was in temporary abeyance while they waited for reinforcements, Arian was just as busy as Luca. Sometimes more so, since he was responsible for more of the day-to-day running of the camp. It was him who collected the reports, sent out the scouts, marked maps, organized sentry and other duty shifts, and ordered supplies. But most days he would appear at some point, dragging me away from whatever I had been doing to put me through drills that were far less formal and much more stressful than the ones Luca had devised for me.

“And if I grab you here, what’s your first instinct?” Arian asked, his right hand taking a firm hold of my left forearm.

“I would … hit you,” I said hesitantly, trying not to look at the small crowd of hill guards who had gathered around the sparring area to watch.

Arian rolled his eyes up to the sky, as if begging for guidance. “Hit me
where
?”

I made my right hand into a fist and mimed punching Arian’s right arm, just above the bony point of his wrist.

“Good. That’s better than trying to twist your arm away. But if you hit me here or here” – he took my fist with his free hand and guided it to a point on the inside of his arm, just above the elbow, and then to another point next to the round ball of muscle at the top of his shoulder – “you would make my whole lower arm go numb. I’d be forced to let you go, and my hand would be useless for a couple of minutes at least. Try it.”

“Really hit you?” I asked, appalled. Someone in the crowd snorted with laughter.

“Yes,
really
hit me,” Arian said, with surprising patience. “How else will you learn? Go on.”

I blew out a breath, drew my fist back and shoved it gingerly at the place Arian had shown me. Before the blow could connect, he seized my hand again.

“Too slow,” he said. “Because you hesitated, you lost the chance to get free from me simply and easily. What do you do now?”

I tugged hard on my arms, testing. In this situation, Luca would have let go immediately; Arian’s grip tightened, not enough to hurt but enough to make it clear that I wasn’t getting away.

“I’d kick you,” I said decisively. “I’d aim … you know … between the legs. Most men panic when you do that.”

“Good. Try it.”

“Really?”

“Frost!” Livia’s exasperated cry came from somewhere in the crowd. I jumped. I hadn’t realized she was among the watchers. “Do you know how many people in this camp would kill for a free shot like that? Just do what he says!”

As the other hill guards dissolved into laughter, I braced myself and kicked out, aiming my boot at the junction of Arian’s thighs.

Quick as a flash, he shifted and instead of connecting with him, my foot hit only air. Suddenly he was right up against me, his feet between mine, my arm folded up behind my back.

“Once again you hesitated and lost your chance. Now what?” he asked.

I concentrated on keeping my breathing slow and even as panic squirmed in my chest.
This is why you wanted him to teach you
, I reminded myself.
You need to learn to deal with this.

“Should I tell you, or just do it?” I asked, surprised that I didn’t stutter.

“Do it,” Arian said.

I nodded – and jerked my head forward. Arian jumped out of the way just in time avoid the headbutt, releasing my hands. The watchers applauded. Livia let out a piercing whistle.

Arian’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes lit up with approval, like a smile that didn’t reach his lips. “Good. But you’ve only got me to let go for now. I’m going to keep coming at you until you put me down.”

He reached for me again. I jumped to the side, avoiding his hands, and stamped, intending to crush his foot. But his foot wasn’t there any more. He pivoted and grabbed me from behind, wrapping his arms around me in a bear hug. His body pressed against my back. It was the same position that had made me panic before.

“All right?” he asked, too quietly for anyone else to hear.

I nodded. My heart had sped up, but for the moment I had control.

“Then show me how you would break this hold.”

My upper arms were pinned to my sides, but my forearms and hands were free. It took another deep breath for me to gain the courage to squirm around until I could get one hand behind me and—

Arian let go instantly and leaped back. His eyes had gone wide and his mouth was agape.

Under cover of the hooting and applause from the other hill guards – Livia was doubled up, choking with laughter, face bright red – I said, “Didn’t think I’d dare, did you?”

“I’m just thankful you didn’t have a knife,” he said, folding his arms. “The lesson here is supposed to be that you have to avoid getting caught by a stronger fighter. Use your speed. Use your wits. Just make sure they don’t get hold of you. If someone does, aiming for the … uh … sensitive areas is a good strategy. Let’s start again.”

“Can I interrupt?”

I turned to see Luca standing on the edge of the sparring ground.

Arian’s arms dropped to his sides. He nodded at Luca wordlessly and walked away. I watched him go with regret as the rest of the crowd dispersed, still catcalling and laughing. There was a stiffness, a distance, between him and Luca. They still weren’t comfortable with each other. It was my fault, but I couldn’t figure out how to fix it.

“What do you need me for?” I asked Luca, trying to sound cheerful, normal.

He grinned mischievously, taking me by surprise. I couldn’t help smiling back, and my own internal tension eased a little.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What kind of a surprise?”

“It would hardly be surprising if I told you, would it?” he said. “Come and see.”

He led me back to his tent, and held the flap open for me to enter. “Notice anything … new?”

I looked around. My little corner was as I had left it that morning: furs and blankets neatly piled up, screen drawn back. Luca’s bed was carefully made as normal. The chairs, the rugs, the tapestries, were all as they had been. The table…

There was an axe on the table. A wooden axe.

I stepped closer, fascinated. It was fashioned from some light, nearly grainless wood that had been sanded until it was smooth and shining. It was almost the same shape as my father’s axe, which Luca had taken away from me on the first day I had begun training with a practice sword. The wooden axe’s curved blade and sharp pick had been cushioned with wrappings of cloth. It looked like something you would give to a child. A very big, very
violent
child.

“I–is this for me?”

“You’ve been progressing well in the drills with sword and staff, but I know you love your axe. This way you can practise without risking your – or anyone else’s – safety.”

“I don’t know what to say.” My hands reached out, but hovered just above the object.

“You can touch it,” Luca said, stepping past me and picking it up with one hand. He held it out for me to take.

I nearly dropped it. The thing was at least three times as heavy as Da’s axe, and that was made of oak, with steel blades and reinforced with iron.

“It’s weighted,” Luca said.

“Oh? I hadn’t noticed!” I grunted, heaving it back up with both hands this time.

“We made the stave hollow, and filled it with lead. It will help to develop your fighting muscles and increase your speed – for when you use your real axe,” Luca said. “Don’t you … I mean – do you like it?” I thought there was the faintest trace of disappointment in his voice.

Happiness broke through the surprise and I turned to look at him, cheeks aching with the width of my smile. “Of course I do. I just – I can’t believe you went to so much trouble! Can I practise now?”

Luca laughed, relief clear on his face. “I don’t see why not.”

After that, axe practice was added to the sword and staff drills that I did with the rest of the hill guard. It was the most demanding of all the training I did. At first, five minutes wielding the weighted axe was enough to leave me gasping, arms trembling and weak, back on fire. But I was used to hard work, and with good food and plenty of rest each day I adjusted with nearly unnatural speed. If some of that was the Wolf’s doing, I tried to ignore it.

My shoulders and upper arms had began to bulge against the fabric of my uniform shirts. The second morning that Luca heard me cursing and muttering as I strove to pull breeches on over legs that had become solid with muscle, he took me back to Atiyah and had her measure me again. Her cursing and muttering as she realized she would need to adjust my special suit of armour put mine to shame.

“Too slow!” Luca said, his wooden practice sword knocking lightly against my collarbone. He always pulled his blows so as not to hurt me, but still, the impact made me grunt.

Droplets of sweat flew everywhere as I shook my head. “I can’t get that pass right. I don’t know why. I always hesitate on the upswing. I feel as if I’m going to lose the axe.”

“You need to have more confidence,” Luca said. He raised his arm, the muscles revealed by his sleeveless tunic bunching as he wiped a thin sheen of moisture off his forehead. His hair was drawn back into a high horse-tail today, to keep it off the nape of his neck. The skin on his shoulders, the bridge of his nose and his cheeks was burning a deeper gold under the midday sun. Summer was coming, and the heat had driven off all the spectators to our sparring, even Livia, who tended to hover around as if I were a baby chick that might be crushed at any moment.

“The problem is that you’re holding yourself back. You won’t lose control of the axe – you just need to
believe
that. Start again, slowly this time. Follow the pattern, let your movements flow.”

I shrugged my shoulders resignedly, then stepped forward to began the drill again.

Axe diagonally across the torso to counter Luca’s overhand swing. Twist sideways to avoid a body kick. Axe down to deflect a gut thrust. Spin to gain momentum for a neck blow. Turn again when the neck blow is deflected, this time jabbing at the face with the head of the axe. Catch Luca’s practice blade on the pick of the axe. Shift weight to the back foot and
heave
—

Luca’s sword went flying.

“Keep going!” he shouted as I froze, staring at the fallen sword in disbelief. “Finish the pattern.”

I gulped, swinging my axe in a double-handed crescent cut that, even with the wooden blade, would have the power to break Luca’s neck. I stopped the blow an inch from connecting, and brought the axe back to guard position.

Luca grinned. One arm snaked around and caught my shoulder, tugging me towards him for a brief hug. I turned sideways to avoid poking him with the axe and ended up mashed awkwardly into his chest, the tip of my nose brushing the soft fair hair at the base of his throat. The smell of honeysuckle and warm skin made my breath stop in my throat.

“That’s how it’s done,” he said, voice rumbling through me.

Then he let go. I allowed the head of the axe to drop and stared down at it, pretending a fascination with the cloth-wrapped pick as I muttered, “I need to speed up.”

“Eventually, but if you can get it right slow, then getting it right fast is just a matter of practice. You know what I’m going to say now, don’t you?”

“Yes.” I felt the heat in my cheeks fading as we went back to safe, businesslike talk. I brought the axe back up into guard position as Luca bent to get his sword. “Start again from the beginning.”

“Good girl,” he said. “You’re learning.”

In addition to the rigorous physical training, I spent at least an hour every day sitting in the clearing behind Luca’s tent, slipping into the strange trance-like state that Luca thought would allow me to gain control of the Wolf. This soon became my least favourite part of the day.

“Your body is full of light,” Luca said. “Imagine it pushing out through your pores, drifting in the air around you, filling the sphere. Can you see it? Nod if you can.”

I nodded. I could
feel
the light pressing through my skin, silver filaments, fine as hair, piercing the air around me like rays of icy starlight. I shivered. Any moment now—

Saram. My daughter.

I had learned not to gasp, not to snap my eyes open and check for colours. I blocked out the inner voice by concentrating on the itch forming at the small of my back, where sweat was starting to dampen my new uniform shirt. On the tiny strand of hair that had worked free of my braid and was tickling my face. I listened for noises in the camp, sorting through the distant voices and putting names to the ones I knew. My awareness of the silver-blue light faded, and the Wolf’s traitorous, lying voice faded with it.

I peeked under my lashes at Luca and saw that he was staring at me, brows furrowed. I hadn’t noticed when he had stopped talking. I squeezed my eyes shut again.

“I think that’s enough for now,” he said, after a moment. “Come back.”

I opened my eyes, feeling guilty as I blinked and yawned, pretending I really was waking from a deep trance. Luca sat in silence as I stretched out my arms and legs, then he asked, “Did you see or hear anything today?”

I concealed my startled jump with another yawn. “Hear anything? Hear what?”

“I don’t know. I hoped that some inner part of you would start to make itself known. That you would feel or sense or
remember
something that would help us to understand your berserk rage.”