Page 99 of Blade of the Nightking

She pointed to a pile in the corner. “Mat,” she commanded.

I shot her a seething look before grabbing the corner of a black mat and struggling to drag it across the floor to the center of the room where she waited.

She stepped barefoot onto it and crooked a finger for me to join her. “Today we start with the basics.”

I eyed the endless assortment of weapons lining the walls. “You mean I don’t get one of those?”

A feline grin flashed across her face. “Let’s see if you can earn one.”

I scowled and stepped onto the mat opposite her.

“Stand properly.”

I shifted awkwardly.

Her expression flattened instantly. “Gods.” She moved before I could react, planting a hand against my shoulder and shoving.

I stumbled backward hard, nearly losing my footing entirely.

“That,” she said, “is why you don’t get the pointy things.”

Heat flared in my face as I straightened.

“Feet apart. One slightly behind the other.” She demonstrated the stance. “You’re not a tree. Stop standing like one.”

I copied her more carefully this time.

“Better.” Barely, I could tell.

She circled me slowly, eyes flicking over every inch of my posture with ruthless scrutiny. “Bend your knees.”

I did.

“Not like you’re squatting to piss in the woods.”

My jaw tightened.

She reached out suddenly and shoved my shoulder again. This time I managed not to stagger as badly.

“Better.” A nod. “Again.”

For the next several minutes she did little besides reposition my limbs and repeatedly knock me off balance. It frayed at my patience quickly, each stumble and correction making humiliation burn hotter beneath my skin. Finally, my temper snapped.

“Are you planning to actually teach me something today,” I demanded, “or are you just pushing me around for fun?”

Something flashed in Segolayne’s eyes. Then she moved—almost too fast for me to follow. One moment she stood in front of me. The next, her hand had caught my wrist while her foot hooked behind my ankle.

The floor vanished beneath me.

Pain burst up my spine as I slammed flat onto the mat, the breath driven violently from my lungs. I sucked in a gasp, stars dancing in my vision.

Segolayne appeared above me a second later, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Oh,” she sighed. “You are tragic.”

I coughed, struggling to breathe.

“Most fights are decided in the first few seconds,” she said lightly. “Panic. Bad footing. Hesitation. It doesn’t matter how strong someone is if you can find the flaw in their balance—and use it.”