Fortunately, Onric did not notice his momentary lapse in defense. This was too easy.
Only slightly larger than his younger brother, Ian prided himself on being faster and smarter. Onric could wield a hefty blow when he tried, but he was a little clumsy on his feet and often a moment behind with his strategy. While Ian didn’t want to take advantage of his brother’s weaknesses, he couldn’t wait to try a new tactic.
They circled each other once more, Onric uncharacteristically holding back. He must have sensed Ian’s coming attack, as he held his wooden sword on the defensive.
“Ha!” Ian roared as his sword came down on Onric’s padded shoulder.
Onric grunted and shifted his weight to his back foot, stabilizing under the blow. “You got me there, but let me try again. I can do this.”
Ian had to give it to his brother for his perseverance. The lad was hard to deter.
“Are you sure?” Ian asked. “We’ve been at this for hours.”
“Of course I’m sure,” Onric said. “Or are you just looking for an excuse to go woo a certain squealing songbird?”
Ian’s eyes narrowed. Lady Lockwood had only been at the castle for three days, but Onric had somehow gotten it into his head that Ian was pining after her. Nothing could be further from the truth. “Let’s keep going, then,” Ian hissed. He raised his sword again, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other.
Onric raised his wooden blade and they began their wary dance once again, slowly circling each other.
Ian watched his brother, noticing the way he used his sword to protect his right side, forgetting about his left—a classic beginner’s mistake. And the perfect weakness.
Ian twisted his wrist, pointing his sword at his opponent. With a quick bounce, he lunged forward, aiming the sword at Onric’s shoulder for a split second. Then he quickly ducked to redirect the blow at Onric’s unguarded left side.
Onric stumbled backward, falling over his ankles as he landed on the ground with a deep grunt.
Ian heard a surprised gasp, but it was not from his brother. Whipping his head around, he glanced up.
It was that girl! The one he’d seen with the donkey the day Lady Lockwood had arrived. She was standing to the side of their sparring circle, just outside the reach of their swords.
And she was staring at Ian in horror.
She rushed forward and placed a hand on Onric’s shoulder, then turned back to continue glaring at Ian. “How dare you?” she yelled at him. “He was obviously tired, and you are so much bigger.” She looked down at Onric, who was struggling back to his feet.
“I’m fine,” Onric mumbled, his face a bright shade of red—whether from the cold, the exertion, or the embarrassment, Ian couldn’t tell.
“Good,” the girl spat, “or I would have to challenge this big-headed fool to put him in his place.”
Ian snapped his jaw closed. It wasn’t as though he’d actually hurt his little brother. If anything, Onric was the one who’d incited him with all his incessant taunting. “Hah,” Ian said, floundering for words. “I... I wouldn’t fight a girl.” He dropped the tip of his sword to the ground, leaning against the makeshift weapon in an attempt to appear more confident than he felt. “Besides, we were just sparring. Someone always loses in a match. A girl wouldn’t understand.”
“A girl wouldn’t understand?” She repeated his phrase in a calm voice, but Ian felt a twist of warning deep in his gut.
Onric backed away while the girl was focused on Ian. He’d most likely decided that merely talking to girls took too much effort.
“I’m only a girl, but I would say the point of sparring is to get better at a skill, not necessarily win or lose,” she said. “However, if you are just repeatedly winning, you are not being challenged so you are probably not learning anything at all.” She crossed her arms.
Ian furrowed his brow. He knew he should be gracious, but she was trying his patience.
“You won’t fight a woman?” she asked, her foot tapping against the ground and her eyes narrowing. “Can I have that sword?” She turned to Onric, who was sliding through the gate at the far end of the courtyard.
With a careless shrug, Onric turned back and handed his sword to the girl, muttering something Ian could not hear.
“What are you doing?” Ian asked, afraid of the answer.
“Just testing a theory,” she said, her voice sweet and her smile innocent.
Ian took a step back as she returned to the center of the sparring circle. “Oh no,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not going to fight with you.”
“That’s fine,” she replied. “You don’t have to fight me, just defend yourself. It can’t be that hard—I’m just a girl.”
