Morrigan's Cross
Page 91
“It’s top heavy,” Glenna complained.
“It’s not. Spread out your grip more for now. Okay, stay forward after the first strike. Come down on the sword, back up at me. Slow. One,” she said and thrust. “Two. Again, keep it coming. You want to counter my moves, sure, but what you want is to throw me off balance, to make me counter yours, force me to follow your moves. Think of it as a dance routine where you not only want to lead, but you also really want to kill your partner.”
Blair held up a hand, stepped back. “Let me show you. Hey, Larkin. Come be the practice dummy.” She tossed him her sword, hilt up, then took the battle-ax. “Take it slow,” she told him. “This is a demo.”
She nodded. “Attack.”
As he moved on her, she called out the steps. “Strike, strike, turn. Thrust up, across, strike. He’s good, see?” she said, still calling out to Glenna. “So he’s pushing at me while I push at him. So you ad lib as necessary. Turn, kick, strike, strike, pivot. Slice!”
She flipped the dagger strapped to her wrist and swiped it an inch from Larkin’s belly. “When his guts are spilling out, you—”
And dodged back from the swipe of what looked like a very large bear claw.
“Wow.” She rested the head of her ax on the floor, leaned on the handle. Only his arm had changed shape. “You can do that? Just pieces of you?”
“If I like.”
“I bet the girls back home can’t get enough of you.”
It took him a moment—she’d already turned to go back to Glenna—then he burst into delighted laughter. “Sure that’s the truth. But not due to what you’re meaning. I prefer my own shape for that kind of sport.”
“Bet. Square off with Larkin. I’m going to work with Shorty for a while.”
“Don’t call me that,” Moira snapped.
“Lighten up. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Moira opened her mouth, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”
“King called her that,” Glenna said quietly.
“Oh. Got it. Moira. Resistance training. We’re going to pump you up.”
“I’m sorry I spoke to you that way.”
“Look. We’re going to irritate each other a lot before this is done. I don’t bruise easily—literally or figuratively. You’re going to have to toughen up yourself. Five-pound free weights. You’re going to be cut by the time I’m done with you.”
Moira narrowed her eyes. “I may be sorry I lashed at you, but I’m not going to let you cut me.”
“No, it’s an expression. It means... ” And every other term Blair could think of would be just as confusing. Instead she curled her arm, flexed her biceps.
“Ah.” A smile glimmered in Moira’s eyes. “Sure I’d like that. All right then, you can cut me.”
They worked a full morning. When Blair paused to gulp water from a bottle she nodded at Glenna. “You’re coming right along. Ballet lessons?”
“Eight years. Never thought I’d pirouette with a battle-ax, but life’s full of surprises.”
“Can you do a triple?”
“Not so far.”
“Look.” Still holding the bottle, Blair whipped her body around three times then shot her leg out to the side, up at a forty-five-degree angle. “That kind of momentum puts a good solid punch in a kick. You need solid to knock one of these things back. Practice. You’ve got it in you. So.” She took another swig. “Where’s the groom?”
“Hoyt? In the tower. There are things that need to be done. As important as what we’re doing here, Blair,” she added when she sensed disapproval.
“Maybe. Okay, maybe. If you come up with more stuff like the fire dagger.”
“We’ve fire charmed a number of the weapons.” She walked to another section of the room, took down a sword to bring it back. “Those that are charmed we’ve marked. See?”
On the blade near the hilt was a flame, etched into steel.
“Nice. Really. Can I try it?”
“Better take it outside.”
“Good point. Okay, we should break for an hour anyway. Grab something to eat. Cross- and longbows, boys and girls, after lunch.”
“I’ll come with you,” Glenna told her. “In case.”
Blair used the terrace doors, jogged down to ground level. She glanced at the straw dummy Larkin had hung from a post. You had to give it to the guy, she mused. He had a sense of humor. He’d drawn fangs on the stuffed face and a bright red heart on the chest.
It would be fun to test the fire sword out on it—and a waste of good material. No point burning up Vampire Dummy.
So she began in a fighting stance, her arm arched behind her head, the sword pointing out.
“It’s important to control it,” Glenna began. “To pull the fire when you need it. If you’re just slapping the burning sword around, you could burn yourself, or one of us.”
“Don’t worry.”
Glenna started to speak again, then shrugged. There was nothing and no one to hurt but the air.
Then she watched as Blair began to move, slowly, fluid as water, the sword like an extension of her arm. Yes, a kind of ballet, she thought, a lethal one. But nonetheless compelling. The blade shimmered when the sun struck its edge, but remained cool. Just as Glenna began to assume Blair needed coaching on how to use it, the woman thrust out, and the blade erupted.
“And you’re toast. God, I love this thing. Will you make me one, out of one of my personal weapons?”
“Absolutely.” Glenna lifted her brows as Blair swished the sword through the air and the fire died. “You learn fast.”
“Yeah, I do.” She frowned, scanning the sky. “Clouds boiling up in the west. Guess we’re in for more rain.”
“Good thing I planned an indoor wedding.”
“Good thing. Let’s go eat.”
Hoyt didn’t come down until late afternoon, and by that time Glenna had given herself permission to take time for herself. She didn’t want to do a quick glamour to look her best. She wanted to pamper herself, just a bit.
And she needed flowers to make the circlet for her hair, to make a bouquet. She’d made the facial cream herself, from herbs, so dabbed it on generously as she studied the sky from the bedroom window.
“It’s not. Spread out your grip more for now. Okay, stay forward after the first strike. Come down on the sword, back up at me. Slow. One,” she said and thrust. “Two. Again, keep it coming. You want to counter my moves, sure, but what you want is to throw me off balance, to make me counter yours, force me to follow your moves. Think of it as a dance routine where you not only want to lead, but you also really want to kill your partner.”
Blair held up a hand, stepped back. “Let me show you. Hey, Larkin. Come be the practice dummy.” She tossed him her sword, hilt up, then took the battle-ax. “Take it slow,” she told him. “This is a demo.”
She nodded. “Attack.”
As he moved on her, she called out the steps. “Strike, strike, turn. Thrust up, across, strike. He’s good, see?” she said, still calling out to Glenna. “So he’s pushing at me while I push at him. So you ad lib as necessary. Turn, kick, strike, strike, pivot. Slice!”
She flipped the dagger strapped to her wrist and swiped it an inch from Larkin’s belly. “When his guts are spilling out, you—”
And dodged back from the swipe of what looked like a very large bear claw.
“Wow.” She rested the head of her ax on the floor, leaned on the handle. Only his arm had changed shape. “You can do that? Just pieces of you?”
“If I like.”
“I bet the girls back home can’t get enough of you.”
It took him a moment—she’d already turned to go back to Glenna—then he burst into delighted laughter. “Sure that’s the truth. But not due to what you’re meaning. I prefer my own shape for that kind of sport.”
“Bet. Square off with Larkin. I’m going to work with Shorty for a while.”
“Don’t call me that,” Moira snapped.
“Lighten up. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Moira opened her mouth, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”
“King called her that,” Glenna said quietly.
“Oh. Got it. Moira. Resistance training. We’re going to pump you up.”
“I’m sorry I spoke to you that way.”
“Look. We’re going to irritate each other a lot before this is done. I don’t bruise easily—literally or figuratively. You’re going to have to toughen up yourself. Five-pound free weights. You’re going to be cut by the time I’m done with you.”
Moira narrowed her eyes. “I may be sorry I lashed at you, but I’m not going to let you cut me.”
“No, it’s an expression. It means... ” And every other term Blair could think of would be just as confusing. Instead she curled her arm, flexed her biceps.
“Ah.” A smile glimmered in Moira’s eyes. “Sure I’d like that. All right then, you can cut me.”
They worked a full morning. When Blair paused to gulp water from a bottle she nodded at Glenna. “You’re coming right along. Ballet lessons?”
“Eight years. Never thought I’d pirouette with a battle-ax, but life’s full of surprises.”
“Can you do a triple?”
“Not so far.”
“Look.” Still holding the bottle, Blair whipped her body around three times then shot her leg out to the side, up at a forty-five-degree angle. “That kind of momentum puts a good solid punch in a kick. You need solid to knock one of these things back. Practice. You’ve got it in you. So.” She took another swig. “Where’s the groom?”
“Hoyt? In the tower. There are things that need to be done. As important as what we’re doing here, Blair,” she added when she sensed disapproval.
“Maybe. Okay, maybe. If you come up with more stuff like the fire dagger.”
“We’ve fire charmed a number of the weapons.” She walked to another section of the room, took down a sword to bring it back. “Those that are charmed we’ve marked. See?”
On the blade near the hilt was a flame, etched into steel.
“Nice. Really. Can I try it?”
“Better take it outside.”
“Good point. Okay, we should break for an hour anyway. Grab something to eat. Cross- and longbows, boys and girls, after lunch.”
“I’ll come with you,” Glenna told her. “In case.”
Blair used the terrace doors, jogged down to ground level. She glanced at the straw dummy Larkin had hung from a post. You had to give it to the guy, she mused. He had a sense of humor. He’d drawn fangs on the stuffed face and a bright red heart on the chest.
It would be fun to test the fire sword out on it—and a waste of good material. No point burning up Vampire Dummy.
So she began in a fighting stance, her arm arched behind her head, the sword pointing out.
“It’s important to control it,” Glenna began. “To pull the fire when you need it. If you’re just slapping the burning sword around, you could burn yourself, or one of us.”
“Don’t worry.”
Glenna started to speak again, then shrugged. There was nothing and no one to hurt but the air.
Then she watched as Blair began to move, slowly, fluid as water, the sword like an extension of her arm. Yes, a kind of ballet, she thought, a lethal one. But nonetheless compelling. The blade shimmered when the sun struck its edge, but remained cool. Just as Glenna began to assume Blair needed coaching on how to use it, the woman thrust out, and the blade erupted.
“And you’re toast. God, I love this thing. Will you make me one, out of one of my personal weapons?”
“Absolutely.” Glenna lifted her brows as Blair swished the sword through the air and the fire died. “You learn fast.”
“Yeah, I do.” She frowned, scanning the sky. “Clouds boiling up in the west. Guess we’re in for more rain.”
“Good thing I planned an indoor wedding.”
“Good thing. Let’s go eat.”
Hoyt didn’t come down until late afternoon, and by that time Glenna had given herself permission to take time for herself. She didn’t want to do a quick glamour to look her best. She wanted to pamper herself, just a bit.
And she needed flowers to make the circlet for her hair, to make a bouquet. She’d made the facial cream herself, from herbs, so dabbed it on generously as she studied the sky from the bedroom window.
