Beneath the Veil Read online

  "We've got you, Daelyn," said Freet.

  "I said I'd be fine!" He grouched but sighed loudly when they helped him to the bed. "And keep your bedamned voices down, I don't want you to wake up my fetchencarry."

  "Some fetchencarry," scoffed Penryn. "Doesn't even wake to help his master..."

  "Shut your gob." Daelyn's voice had begun to slur. "I don't want him for this."

  I'd been ready to step out and help but at that retreated to the shadows of my alcove. He didn't want me. Why, then, had he chosen me?

  I flung myself into my bed and pulled the covers over my head. Let his lords undress him, wash his face, help him to the privy to piss! He didn't want me, and he wouldn't have me.

  I covered my ears with my pillow so as not to hear any more that night. Even if he called me, I'd not come. He told me to leave him alone, and I would....

  Next I knew, the first chimes of the day were tinkling throughout the White Palace. I was awake in an instant, but it took me longer than that to force myself out of the tangle I'd made of my sheets.

  Daelyn's friends had undressed him and put him to bed. I paused to look at him as he slept, but he'd pulled the covers so close about him I saw nothing.

  The White Palace was quiet so early in the morning, but not silent. Follies glided past me on slippered feet and the public rooms bustled with their crews of cleaning staff. I passed the kitchens, the smell of breakfast already wafting on the heated air from the ovens.

  The morning air chilled me when I went to the fight field. Surrounded by the palace walls, the courtyard held the vestiges of morning mist like wispy bits of lace on a gentleman's handkerchief. Overhead, the sun was a bright disc that would warm the field and chase away the dew, but for now I shivered as the moisture crept around my legs.

  I didn't see Lir at first, hidden by the mist. He leaned against one of the goal posts driven into the earth in the field's center. He wore shirt and trousers without ornamentation, and his hair had been pulled back in a thick tail that hung over one shoulder.

  "Good morn," he greeted. "I wasn't sure I'd see you here."

  "I could say the same. I thought you might not want to teach me."

  Lir uncrossed his arms and stood straight. "I said I would, didn't I?"

  "I thought you might've changed your mind."

  He nodded. "Today will show me what you can do. You might change yours."

  "Is that a challenge?" The words came out with less rancor than I'd thought I could speak to him.

  "It is. And I hope to see you rise to it."

  I made a leg and bowed low, arms outstretched from my sides. "I'll do my best."

  I came up grinning, and he matched it. My heart felt lighter here on the fight field with Lir. He might judge me, but it would be on my efforts and what I could change, not what I could not.

  "Let's get you fitted for a weapon."

  He'd brought a rolling rack composed of two long pieces of wood with several cross pieces connecting them with him. Weapons in different sizes hung from the rack.

  "You're not big enough for the broad sword," Lir said, which was so true I couldn't take offense. "Not yet, anyway. Come here and let me measure you for this, instead. Take off your tunic."

  I wore a loose fitted shirt beneath it and I'd bound my chest well, but the tunic offered me extra protection. Lir didn't seem to notice my hesitation. I tossed my tunic to the grass and straightened my shoulders. Confidence was the best disguise.

  "Hold out your arm."

  Instinctively, I raised my left.

  "Your fighting hand, Aeris."

  "I fight with both my hands."

  Lir shook his head. "You fight with both your fists, aye, but with a sword you need to use your dominant hand. Which hand do you write with?"

  Being left-handed was not so shameful as being a woman, but it was looked down on by most as being uncivilized. I most naturally used my left hand but had been trained to write well enough with my right. I raised it.

  Lir snugged himself up against my back and laid the side of his face against my hair. If I leaned back, I'd be against him. I kept myself straight. He put his right arm out along mine. His other hand gripped my waist so tightly I didn't move. I found it suddenly difficult to breathe.

  "You'll need a lighter weight blade and a shorter one as well. You'll always have to lunge deeper against your foes. You'll have to have your weapons custom-built for you, unless you grow taller."

  That didn't seem probable. "Custom weapons are costly."

  "But worth it."

  He moved a little closer. His hand ran past my elbow then closed on my forearm. His grip tested the width of my bones, the strength of my muscles.

  "Sinder's Arrow, Aeris, you're fair tiny." With his words, his breath puffed hot against my ear. His other hand tightened on my hip. "Were you starved as a child?"

  His closeness befuddled me. With a tug, I stepped neatly out of his arms and turned to face him. I knew my face was flushed, but Lir's was the same golden peach it always was – and I hated him for being able to affect me so physically without any sign of him feeling the same. I hadn't forgotten he'd turned away my clumsy offer the night before.

  "I'm strong enough," I said. "And I'm not that small."

  "If I'm going to teach you, we might both at least try not to go for each other's throats unless we're actually fighting."

  He ranked higher than I, and it wasn’t my place to contradict him. "Yes, my lord."

  Lir sighed as though my answer displeased him and plucked a rapier from the rack, then tossed it to me. "Shall we?"

  I caught the weapon without fumbling, pleased to see his nod of approval. It was lighter in my hand than I'd expected, the handle rough on my palm. The curved grip encased my fingers and held them stiff while allowing my wrist complete flexibility.

  "Nice form," Lir commented. "Hold this weapon loosely, with plenty of movement. You're not going to be hacking with it. You're going to dance with it."

  And dance I did, for four full chimes while the sun rose higher overhead. My education began with a series of basic parries and thrusts, focusing on the defensive rather than the offensive. I worked until my muscles screamed and faintness threatened me...but I didn't stop.

  Sweat had matted my hair to my face and soaked my shirt. Blisters had sprouted on my sword hand. I paused to swipe at my face with the sleeve of my shirt.

  "One more time!" Lir lunged toward me, blade pointed at my heart. "Make me work for it, Aeris!"

  I blocked his thrust, and the metal grip of my rapier ground against the thin skin of my blisters. They broke, excruciatingly. My body followed the arc of my sword, and I stumbled. Lir gave me no leeway. He came at me again, and I acted without thinking. I pulled the grip away from my seeping wounds and grabbed it with my left, unblistered hand. I rolled from one knee and pushed to my feet, sword out. It met Lir's with so much force it knocked his blade back, and he stepped back to compensate. I gave him no more slack than he'd given me.

  I advanced and swung, and thrust, and swung again. I drove him back with every blow, until my final one caught his upraised sword so fiercely it knocked it from his hand. We watched it thud into the soft grass of the fight field as though it took an entire chime to fall. Then I used all I'd learned that day and leaped toward him.

  Crimson bloomed at the tip of my blade. Lir put his hands in the air. I lowered my sword, then lowered my head. The world had begun to tilt.

  He pressed a mug of water into my hand, and I splashed it onto my face. The thought of drinking it made my stomach heave. I breathed deeply the scent of grass and sweat and churned earth. I wet the back of my neck, and began to feel better.

  "Mother's Milk," Lir swore. "I've never seen anything like you."

  I spat to clear my mouth. "I can only do what I've been taught."

  "Aeris –" He caught me by the shoulder until I turned to face him. "I was complimenting you."

  I felt suddenly small. "Oh."

  "I've nev