A few lines from Fire and Amulet of an early morning exercise interrupted.
Excerpt:
Unbuckling the sheath holding her sword, she leaned it against the low stone wall. Sky portents were for a quick rise of the temperature, so with a tug she pulled her tunic over her head. The short pants wouldn’t impede her movements and she left them on in case any villager passed by.
A shrug to settle her leather breast band more firmly, and she grabbed the staff that served as the handle for the wooden rake used to weed the garden. Slow twirls started her practice routine, which then changed to figure eights. Slowly, then building speed, she went through an intricate series of moves. Sweat glistened on her skin. Her chest heaved from the exertion. Still, she worked with the wood pole. The physical and mental effort worked to return body and soul to a calmer state. A quick drink of water and she traded the staff for her sword.
The sensation of eyes on her broke her focus. Only Caldar or his son Karst, would be bold enough to interrupt her. A bet with herself, and she turned to see Karst leaning in all his arrogance against the side of the house. She stood the sword point down and placed her hands crosswise on the hilt so she wouldn’t be tempted to swing the blade at the self-appointed master of Darceth.
His perpetual sneer drew even higher as his gaze raked her body from head to toe, lingering on the sweat-darkened breast band. “Slayer Deneas, the council demands your presence in their hall.”
A deep breath to control the urge to wipe the lust from Karst’s face, Deneas forced her tone level. “I will attend them shortly.”
“Now, Deneas. You are to come with me NOW!” The abrupt gesture towards the large circular building that served as the village’s gathering place brooked no delay. “My father ordered. On your back or your feet. Your choice.”
Although she knew she would pay for it later, Deneas let a bark of laughter slip past her lips. “Really, Karst. You think you can take me? You’ve never been more than a candlemark’s walk beyond the village wall. Let alone run the slayer obstacle course.” To add to the boast, she swung the blade in a single-handed series of figure eights. “You never could best me in armed or unarmed combat.” The idea of beating her oppressor and getting revenge for all his insults sent a tingle of excitement through her body. “While it is the challenged who gets to choose weapons and site, today I gift it to you. Which shall it be? Sword or staff? I promise to only bruise you a little.” Now she added a hint of sultriness in her tone. “Please don’t refuse on account of my sex. After all, I’ve heard so much about your prowess, I’d love to see it.”
Crimson crept up Karst’s neck, yet he stood silent. His tight lips showed the effort he took to control his temper.
Having a slayer as a friend is dangerous when you’re a dragon.
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This is such a great book
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