Wendell started pounding on his shield right away, knowing that was his weak side. But this time, it wasn’t. Cam dropped to both knees, which caught Wendell off guard. Wendell’s momentum caused him to fall forward onto Cam’s shield and that was when Cam lifted the man up and tossed him right over his head.
Wendell went sailing up and over, and then sprawling into the dirt. Before he could recover, Cam was on him, using his body weight to pin him down, with thegladiusacross the front of Wendell’s neck. The message was obvious.
Within a few seconds of the fight beginning, it was over. Wendell knew it, too. He immediately released his weapon in a show of submission.
Given what happened the last time Wendell submitted, Cam wasn’t naïve the second time. Straddling the man’s body, he planted his feet and pulled Wendell up to his knees, the wooden blade pointed at his neck.
“Now,” Cam growled. “Ye’ll give me yer word that ye’ll not try tae strike me once I’ve subdued ye. If ye turn on me again, know that from now on, it’ll not go well between us. A man must have honor, especially with those he is teaching. I want tae respect ye, Wendell, but ye must earn it.”
Wendell, his face half covered in dirt, simply lifted both hands in surrender.
“That was an excellent move,” he said, spitting grit out of his mouth. “In fact, it has earned you some respect in my eyes. I was afraid that what we saw at The Sticky Wick had been a stroke of luck. But you’ve just proven to me that it was not. What was it Luther called you? Lion, was it? I think we just saw you roar, Lion.”
Cam held on to him for a moment longer before quickly releasing him and stepping out of range, so he couldn’t strike out at him. But Wendell seemed to have no inclination to do so. Wiping the dirt from his face, he turned to Cam with a smile, perhaps one of approval this time.
“Come along,” he said, motioning to Cam. “I want you to show these men how you did that. It is something they can learn.”
Surprised at Wendell’s reaction, Cam watched the man walk over to the other recruits and call a halt to their mock fighting. He motioned to Cam, who picked his shield up out of the dirt and headed in Wendell’s direction, but not before he turned to see if Isadora had kept her promise. He still couldn’t believe she was here, so perhaps he thought he might not see her in the lists, as if she had been a dream.
But she wasn’t.
She was there, smiling at him, and Cam knew at that moment that he would never let her out of his sight again.
Ever.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Cam is alive!
Those words kept rolling over and over in Isadora’s head. More than that, he was training as a warrior at, of all places, the Ludus Caledonia.
The shock she felt at seeing him was indescribable, shock that quickly turned to joy. She could hardly believe her eyes, yet the reality of that strong, gentle touch was enough to convince her. The months since she’d last seen Cam had changed him; he hardly looked like the sweet and naïve man she’d known. He was bigger, rougher, and stronger. His hands and body were bloodied, bruised.
It wasn’t the same Cam.
All joy aside, the situation was bewildering, to say the least, but oddly enough the fact that he was here was coming to make some sense to her. She remembered telling him long ago that he needed to learn to fight. They’d even spoken of the Ludus Caledonia once or twice, and here he was.
He’d taken her advice.
… butwhy?
Why hadn’t he told her? Why had he simply gone off to do it? Perhaps it really didn’t matter in the end. Perhaps, if she thought about it, the destruction of Netherton was enough reason for aman to learn to fight, to defend himself. Cam had survived, but most of the village hadn’t. She wondered if his grandfather had survived and suspected that he might not have. That would be even more of a motivation for a man to learn to fight and defend himself. Given how fond Cam was of his grandfather, Isadora hoped the old man hadn’t perished in the raid.
Now, it was a different Cam from the man she knew on the arena floor, but she felt no less adoration for him. He had her heart pounding with that familiar thrill as she watched him resume his training. She’d nearly cheered when he had tossed his bully of a trainer over his head. It had been a stunning move of strength, something that had impressed her greatly.
It would seem that her docile smithy had unleashed the beast inside of him.
In Isadora’s eyes, that made him something of a perfect man. He was big, strong, handsome, and could fight, even if he was only learning. He was catching on very quickly. When it came to handling his trainer, he’d taken her advice without question. He was willing to do what was necessary to win. Even in his novice state, there was no mistaking his wits or his power.
That was just the kind of man her father needed.
The idea hit Isadora like a lightning bolt.
Perhaps Cam wasn’t the highly trained fighting man her father had been looking for, but he had something that most men didn’t—a strong presence and a willingness to learn. Even if he didn’t know much about battle tactics, or even organization, the truth was that Isadora did. She’d been raised on those things but because she was a woman, she had never been in a position of command.
However, if Cam was willing to listen to her, as he’d proven he was, then perhaps through her, he could teach the men of Clan Keith what they needed to know. More than that, he was the perfect candidate because Netherton had been his village—and who but a man with ties to Netherton would be better at helping the Keith defend against those who had destroyed his village?
It all seemed perfect to her.
