We had been waiting to join the army at the very rear of the march. Keir had that little-boysmile on his face when he'd told me that I'd be moving to the rear of his forces. I was fairly surethat he wanted to make sure that he gave me my first glimpse of the Plains.
Since we were waiting anyway, I'd asked my guards to teach me to use a sword and shield. I'dthought it would be easy; after all they handled their weapons with grace and skill.
Easy to say; hard to do.
We spent the rest of the afternoon as the army passed practicing. Each of my bodyguardswould play the attacker, and then I had to work with the others to protect myself. Marcus stoodback and watched. When it looked like I knew how to handle the situation, Marcus called outfor Prest to die, and Prest obligingly fell 'dead' at my feet.
So I learned to move with my protectors, trying to stay out of their way, and be constantlyaware of the threat I was under. Marcus was a strong believer in action as opposed to talking.
When I got too tired, we'd stop and talk for a bit, get a drink of water, so that I could catch mybreath.
The others never even broke a sweat.
Finally, as the sun was setting, Marcus 'killed' all my body guards, and I was facing my
'attacker' alone. Prest grinned at me as he lay dead at my feet. I looked over at Marcus, whostood there with two daggers, threatening me. "Now what?"
He tilted his head under that cloak, and glared at me. "What can you do?"
"I don't know!" Frustrated, I glared back at him.
Anders had managed to 'die' face down, and looked like he was taking a nap. "Look for aweakness," he whispered to me.
Weakness? Marcus had already proved he was deadly with those daggers, so what weaknessdid he have?
Marcus rolled his one eye at me.
Oh.
I darted over to his left, trying to get into his blind spot. But Marcus just pivoted to face me,keeping me in sight. I stopped, frustrated. "What good does that do?"
"Keeps him moving, keeps him from throwing his daggers," Yveni responded. She was layingon the ground, chewing a piece of grass, watching the perimeter. Rafe was seated a distanceaway, watching in the other direction.
"You could try rushing him, getting him to move away from you. Use our bodies to try to triphim up," Anders offered.
"Throw things," Prest added. I looked at my satchel on my hip, and nodded.
"You must take advantage of any weakness." Marcus gestured at his face. "Mine is my blindside, Warprize. If you can blind a person with one of your mixtures, do it. It may be all thatstands between you and death. Yes?"
"I will, Marcus."
"More important, if all your guards are down, where else can you look for help?" Marcusgrowled.
I eyed him nervously. I still remembered the 'lesson' he'd given me before, when he'doverborne me to the ground, and held a dagger to my throat. "The army?"
Marcus snorted.
Rafe caught my eye and jerked his thumb in the direction of our horses.
"The horses?" I looked over where our mounts were standing, waiting patiently. They weregrazing, except of course for my Greatheart. He was fast asleep, his one hip cocked to the side,his head hanging down. As usual.
"The horses." Marcus sheathed his daggers within the darkness of his cloak as the othersstood, brushing themselves off. "Get to a horse, leap to its back, and it will take you out ofdanger."
"If she could ride." Prest said calmly.
I glared at him, but they were all smiling. It was an old joke now, but in their eyes, it was true. Iwasn't born in a saddle, like the people of the Plains, and to them my riding skills were horrible.
But I could ride. Leaping into a saddle, however…
