Pathfinder's Way (47 page)

“Try to block this time,” the old man shouted
at her from his seat on a barrel.

Shea ignored him. If she had taken her focus
off the man in front of her for even a moment, he would have nailed
her three times with his wooden practice sword. He’d done it twice
today. Anytime her attention wavered he punish her with three quick
blows. Her wrist and thigh still ached from the last time.

Trenton led with a butterfly cut, which Shea
blocked before dancing to the side and parrying with a slash. He
blocked and twisted his wrist, sliding his blade along hers and
forcing it out of his way. The tables turned and her attack quickly
became a race to defend herself as he used his blade’s momentum to
lunge forward.

She blocked its forward motion but stumbled
back and nearly fell when her ankle wobbled from stepping on a
loose pebble.

With a movement she felt rather than saw, he
knocked her blade from her hand and rapped her harshly on the
offending ankle.

Pain lunged up her leg. She gritted her
teeth, her eyes smarting. She would not cry. Not in front of these
men. That just wasn’t going to happen.

Trenton stepped back and looked over at the
old man who watched them sourly.

“You know, that blade in your hands isn’t
merely for show,” the old man told her. “You can attack at any
time.”

A chorus of laughter came from the gathered
onlookers. Most were here to watch the little Lowlander’s abilities
tested against one of their best. Some had come convinced they were
in for a good show. After all, this was the woman who rescued their
warlord, not once but twice.

“Perhaps she needs a lesson in how to hold a
sword,” a woman’s voice shouted from the crowd. “You know how soft
these Lowlanders’ hands are.”

Trenton stood relaxed, his sword held
casually at his side while he waited for Shea to get enough
motivation to raise her sword again. She didn’t want to. Not at
all. Her arms and shoulders begged for a reprieve.

Rather than attack head on as she had been
for the last couple of hours, she waited, with her sword down, and
observed Trenton. Since he wasn’t immediately following up with
another flurry of attacks, she planned to use this time to
think.

Sword play wasn’t her strong suit. It never
had been. She carried a sword because it had a longer reach than a
dagger and came in handy when fighting off beasts. Part of her
training had included work with the sword, but her trainers had
mostly concentrated on defense and quick attacks that were a
prelude to retreat. Most of her training had been spent gaining
wilderness survival skills. You could get just as dead eating the
wrong berry when your food ran out as you could with a blade in
your gut. So swordplay had been covered but not extensively.

She had just enough skill to defend herself
for a short period of time.

Fallon’s men, on the other hand, had
extensive experience. The way Eamon told it, they were given a
blade on their first birthday and spent the rest of their childhood
learning to use it.

There was just no way her small amount of
skill could match up to Trenton’s expertise. It made her wonder why
Fallon wanted her as his guard in the first place. Even when she
had been Shane, it would have been obvious she didn’t measure up to
the others.

Trenton quickly moved towards her. The blade
whistled through the air where her head had been. She ducked out of
the way and then tripped when he shoved his foot into her path. She
managed to turn the fall into a roll but had no time to recover as
his wooden blade bit into the grass next to her head.

All of a sudden his attack stopped. He sighed
and then went back to where he’d originally stood.

Shea got her feet cautiously and wiped her
hands against her trousers.

Trenton’s head was turned slightly away from
her and his eyes fixed on something behind her and to the right.
She turned to look.

Fallon stood with his arms crossed over his
muscular chest, watching the session.

So that’s why.

It was a little surprising considering Fallon
was the one who’d ordered this stupid test. He’d practically given
them free reign to do anything they wanted so long as they said it
was part of the testing process.

Trenton closed in on her, pounding at her
defense with blows that had the force of a mountain behind
them.

“Where is your fire?” Trenton asked, every
word punctuated with another blow.

Shea kept silent and concentrated on getting
out of the encounter with no internal bleeding. With the way he was
hammering at her guard, he’d cause an injury if a blow landed.

“Is this the woman who convinced her men to
follow her on a fool’s errand?”

Shea didn’t respond.

“Where is the spirit that drove you off a
cliff onto a shadow beetle?”

He was very talkative as he drove her across
the small practice ring. She envied him the ability.

“You’re weak.”

Now he was onto insults.

“You don’t belong here.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. She’d heard that one
before.

He closed with her, bearing down with his
blade until her arms were shaking with the strain. His face was
close to hers as their match became a test of strength. “Your
stupidity is going to get everyone killed.”

Abruptly, Shea released the blade with one
hand, sidestepped and launched a punch straight into his ear. His
head rocked to the side and Shea, taking advantage of his
distraction, grabbed his arm and hooked her leg around his before
pushing with all her might.

He toppled backwards, landing hard on the
ground for the first time that day. Shea didn’t wait for him to
recover and kicked him in the ribs. He rolled into her legs as she
prepared to do it again, bringing her to the ground with him.

She kicked, punched and wiggled her way back
to standing and quickly backed up as he rose to his feet.

He didn’t look happy. Shea backed up even
further.

The dark expression on his face was a bit
scary. Guess she shouldn’t have kicked him when he was down. The
biting probably didn’t help either. Trying to dig her fingers into
his eyes had been a low blow. Even she could admit that. This was
practice. Some things were just off limits.

He started for her, not even bothering to
pick up his practice sword. Shea prepared to run. New energy
coursed through her as she felt genuine danger rolling off
Trenton.

“Test complete,” the old man crowed.

“What?” Shea asked in disbelief.

“You passed.”

“That’s it?”

The test had been difficult but not
impossible. She’d been expecting impossible given the hesitation
the old man showed in testing her.

“Mostly.”

That’s what she thought.

“So the little outsider managed to pass the
first phase.” Snake Clan’s leader sauntered into the training ring.
“Honey, that’s the easy part. It’s what happens next that most
don’t survive.”

“What business do you have here, Snake Clan?”
The cantankerous bastard who had so joyfully tortured Shea over the
last few weeks was gone and a remote stranger had taken his
place.

The dark haired woman shrugged slim, tan
shoulders that were bare from a dark green, sleeveless top. The top
had a high collar and a cut out over her chest showing a hint of
cleavage. Heavy bands of metal adorned each wrist. Her hair fell in
a thick, straight sheet to her waist.

“I just wanted to see the outsider
everybody’s talking about.”

Meynard looked like he had bitten into
something sour.

“So far I’m less than impressed,” the woman
said, examining Shea with arms crossed over her chest.

Well, Shea wasn’t overly impressed with the
woman either. She hadn’t met many from Snake Clan. They didn’t
usually serve on the front lines.

“You’re really considering making
this
your Tolroi?” she asked Fallon.

Shea didn’t know if she liked being referred
to as a ‘this’. She had a name and a title. Shea folded her arms
over her chest and gave the woman her best non-expression. It was
the one she had perfected during the long winded lectures the
elders of Birdon Leaf had subjected Shea to when they disagreed
with something she’d done.

“Look at her. She doesn’t even have the
spirit to defend herself when someone insults her.” The woman
turned her head towards the crowd as if it was them she was trying
to convince rather than Fallon.

“Our leader needs someone who has the fire to
stand up for her people, not some gutless Lowlander.”

“Watch your mouth, woman,” the old man
cautioned. His voice was low and dangerous, making a person forget
the frail body that went with it.

“Indeed, Indra,” a man moved into view.
“You’ve always been one to speak thoughts that have no wisdom
behind them.”

If she remembered right, he was the Horse
Clan leader. Henry, she thought she remembered. He had been with
Darius when they had investigated the beast board. Shea hadn’t
really gotten a look at him then, being more concerned over the
danger of imminent discovery, so she took the time now.

He had white hair that was well kept and
brushed sharply away from his face, leaving his softly lined
features on proud display. He walked with a straight back, placing
each foot carefully. You could tell he was once a warrior, and a
good one too, simply from the way he kept his balance evenly
distributed at all times and the absolute awareness he had of his
surroundings.

A limp became evident after a closer look. It
didn’t hold him back as he moved fluidly towards them, so it wasn’t
a result of age. If Shea had to guess, she’d say it was an old
wound from when he was a child or one he was born with. Age would
have made his gate jerky and stiff. The way he moved said he had
found ways to turn a potential weakness into a strength.

“She couldn’t even successfully defend
against Trenton.”

“I’d warrant you wouldn’t be able to either,”
Henry said. “None of Fallon’s guard could when they first sought
his esteem. That’s not what Meynard is testing for.”

“This Lowlander has no right to be tested at
all,” a male voice said from the edge of the training arena.

This clan leader Shea knew. She wasn’t a fan.
The Lion Clan’s leader, Van, joined the other two leaders.

“She isn’t Trateri. The position of the
Hawkvale’s guard is one of honor. It’s never been held by an
outsider.” Van’s slightly too small eyes were scornful as they ran
over Shea, noting every bruise and the hole in her pants from when
she had dove out of the way of Trenton’s blade.

Shea didn’t let his disregard bother her.
Better men than him had found fault with her.

“Her actions have earned her the right to be
tested,” Henry stated.

“Ha,” Indra scoffed. “She’s nothing better
than a scout. Any idiot could do that job. Her squad must have been
full of fools to need the help of a Lowlander.”

Shea scowled. She didn’t mind them running
her down. All they were doing was helping her. If they managed to
convince the group she shouldn’t be here, Fallon might give up on
this strange obsession. She drew the line at insults aimed at the
men she considered her friends.

They’d gone through a lot together. She’d
come to respect them. That was the kind of thing that deserved to
be defended. Some oversexed woman and an inept Lion Clan leader
wasn’t going to malign them while Shea stood by and took it.

“So who deserves to be tested?” Shea asked.
“You?”

“It’s certainly not some gutless
Lowlander.”

“Gutless, huh?”

That was a pretty strong word considering the
number of times she’d saved their warlord. The expressions on some
of the faces in the crowd said they agreed with the woman. If it
had just been Shea’s reputation on the line, she’d have let them go
on believing that. Eamon, Buck and the others didn’t deserve that
stigma, and it wouldn’t be long before slurs against her honor
became slurs against theirs. That, Shea wouldn’t stand for.

“When’s the last time you journeyed into the
wild by yourself?” Shea asked.

It was a safe question and one Shea already
knew the answer to. The Snake Clan wasn’t especially known for
their bravery. They, and their clan leader, liked to stay close to
the combined might of Fallon’s army.

Shea could tell she had scored a point from
the soft mutterings that traveled through the crowd. The fact that
Snake Clan tended to hand their field duties off to other clans was
a bit of a sore point among the Trateri.

“I’ll make it easier on you.” Shea had no
such intention. “When’s the last time you ventured out in a party
of four, including yourself. That’s how many scouts normally set
out on a reconnaissance mission.”

There was a pregnant silence. The crowd
behind her grew more restless.

“That has nothing to do with this,” the woman
tried to deflect. “You’re not one of us. How dare you try to get
close to Hawkvale?”

“Never, huh?” Shea rolled right over the
woman’s words. “You know, somehow gutless just doesn’t have the
right amount of impact coming from you.”

“You forgot idiot,” Eamon’s voice rumbled
from the crowd.

Shea snapped her fingers and pointed at him
in acknowledgement of the reminder.

Eamon and Buck stood at the edge of the
clearing, having pushed their way through the growing crowd.

A year ago, even five months ago, Shea would
have let the woman have her say before ignoring whatever insults
came her way. Not today, though.

“How about this? I’ll give you a chance to
prove how gutless and stupid I am. We’ll each take two weeks’ worth
of supplies and walk for a week in whatever direction strikes us.
Then at the end of that week we’ll find our way back to the
camp.”

“I’m not- That’s not- I’m not doing that,”
the woman sputtered. She looked around for support. The people in
the crowd dropped their eyes. Even the men and women wearing Snake
Clan colors avoided her gaze.