Scent of Magic - Page 56/115

“No.” My reply just popped from my mouth.

“Then why isn’t he with you?”

“It’s complicated.” Before she could ask any more questions, I brushed past her. “Let’s go, we’re late.”

A sizable group had already gathered in the training yard with more arriving. Saul and Odd joined us as soon as we entered the area.

“More games of hide-and-seek?” Odd asked me with a smile. “Or do you have a new game to play?”

“A new one.”

“Oh? What’s it called?”

I remembered Thea’s comment about the dead soldiers. “Fighting the impossible.”

Odd’s humor died as his gaze slid past my shoulder. “I think I’m going to like hide-and-seek better.”

Ryne, the monkeys and Flea approached us. Quain carried the neck collar along with a burlap sack that clinked with each step.

“I thought you were sending someone else,” I said to Ryne.

Liv and Odd shared a look, and I realized too late that my tone and demeanor had been inappropriate for a sergeant talking to a prince.

Ryne ignored my insubordination. “This will be another chance for me to get acquainted with Estrid’s troops. It’ll be important when we’re fighting together. Please ask all the officers and sergeants to come over. We’ll demonstrate the technique to them first, and then they can teach their squads.”

I waved Thea over and relayed Ryne’s request. Soon we were surrounded, and even Major Granvil joined us. He nodded to Ryne, gave me a look that would pierce armor, but didn’t say a word.

Prince Ryne explained to the group that when Tohon attacked, the soldiers wearing the metal collars would be Tohon’s special forces. “They will come at you with a mindless determination in utter silence. They will be unaffected by injuries to their bodies.”

A ripple of unease tinged with amusement rolled through the audience.

“Yes, I know what you’ve been told. And you probably think I’m crazy right now. But I’m not here to convince you, just to teach you a skill that might save your life in battle.” Ryne gestured to Quain.

Quain set the sack down. It clanked. He clamped the metal collar around his throat, drew his sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. He advanced.

Ryne pulled his own weapons. “First step is to unarm your opponent.”

They engaged in a sword fight. Metal rang and clanged as they fought. Even though I wasn’t an expert, Ryne’s superior skills with a blade were obvious. He used a number of quick and efficient moves. Quain’s cheeks turned red as he struggled to defend himself. I scanned the faces watching the match. The others appeared to be impressed. I suspected that was another reason Ryne decided to lead this training exercise—to gain the soldiers’ respect.

Quain grunted, and I turned in time to see his sword fly from his hand. Blood welled in a bright red line from his thumb to his wrist. I fought the desire to rush to him and check the severity of the cut.

“Once your opponent is unarmed, don’t hesitate to take the next step,” Ryne said. “Plant your sword.” He shoved the tip of his blade into the hard ground. “Move in close. As you advance, change the grip on your dagger like so.” He spun the hilt in his hand so the blade now pointed to the ground. “With your free hand, grab his head and pull down. Then aim the blade for the base of his skull. The collar protects the neck and prevents decapitation, but if you can jam the blade into the spot between the cranium and spine, you’ll stop him.”

Murmurs of shock and disbelief sounded. Comments and questions erupted all at once.

“That’s brutal.”

“It’s an impossible place to reach in a fight.”

“What if he’s taller than you?”

“Why can’t we just chop their arms off instead?”

Ryne explained with a strong calm voice. Even when he repeated the same answer multiple times, he never lost his temper. He demonstrated the strike many times, as well. Each repetition soothed the ripples. They quieted and finally really listened to him. When they started repeating back his instructions, Ryne appeared satisfied.

Quicker than I’d expected, the lieutenants and sergeants practiced finding the kill spot on Quain, Loren and Flea. The burlap sack held more collars. Although they didn’t quite match the one stolen from Tohon, they proved adequate for the training. When Ryne was happy with their efforts, he distributed collars to the sergeants so they could teach their squads.

As they disbursed into smaller groups, I walked over to Quain. “Let me see.”

He flexed his hand. “It’s just a scratch.”

“Scratches can get infected.” I grabbed his wrist, but he broke my grip.

“No. I’m not letting you blow your cover.”

I huffed. “We’re four days away from war. I’m not going to hide when I’m most needed.”

“You still have four days,” Quain said. “If it isn’t better by then, I’ll be first in line.”

“All right, but go wash it with soap right now and cover it with a clean bandage. Keep it dry and—”

“Av—Irina, don’t worry, I know how to take care of a cut.”

“Sorry. I’m just...”

“Overprotective? Overly cautious? Smothering?” He smirked.

I crossed my arms and gave him my best stern look. “You didn’t seem to mind my tendency to nurture when I healed Belen and Loren.”