Page 7 of Hexes & Heartstrings (Shifters of Bastion Keep #2)

"Today we'll be focusing on weapons," Sergiy said on Tuesday morning, addressing the twenty gathered garrison troops that consisted of a mix of new recruits and returning veterans.

Most were standing, some knelt, and others were reclining in their animal forms, but all were giving him their full attention within the spacious chamber filled with training dummies and padded floors for sparring.

In addition to the guardians, his adorable orc mate was sitting in the back corner, watching.

Presumedly Bruin was here to learn about Bastion's weapons system, and the associated library book and journal that he was writing in attested to that, but he wouldn't put it past his mate to simply want to watch him work.

Sergiy found himself standing up straighter as he paced in front of the guardians, occasionally twirling his favored short spear.

"Half of you still have your chosen weapon from your previous service," he said, gesturing, "and we'll have our smiths inspect them to ensure they're still serviceable, but for the rest of you, getting a weapon is your next step on becoming a full guardian.

"Each and every guardian is allowed a weapon of their choice, made from a selection of the finest materials, no silver or gold, if you please, out of respect for common allergies.

Your weapon should represent you! We are not a thousand-person army with uniformity.

We bolster each other's strengths. We cover each other's weaknesses.

"Lacy," he said, gesturing towards one of the new recruits, a sandy-haired young woman. "You've been training hand-to-hand with us for the last two months. Have you an idea of what you might want to take with you in defense of the keep?"

"I don't suppose a rifle is on the table?" she asked in an American drawl. There were laughs from others, and a few groans from the experienced ones.

Sergiy rapped his spear against the floor twice, but he had a grin on his face. "That's a fair question! We don't generally do firearms, and for a number of reasons that I'll get into. But you will note that one of your fellow guardians uses a bow, if a ranged weapon is what you prefer.

"Firearms are lethal, I don't disagree. They have good piercing kinetic force, and they require minimal training compared to hand-to-hand weapons.

Those with training can be a force to be reckoned with, downing multiple opponents from a distance.

In point of fact, a number of staff are trained with firearms, and we keep several pistols in the armory.

But as guardians, our primary foes are spirits and shadows, not persons, and for that reason, firearms end up with numerous disadvantages.

"They require ammo! Swords do not, though they may chip and break. They have mechanical parts, which can malfunction or jam. Anyone else? Any other reasons?"

Ivar raised a hand, and Sergiy gestured to him.

"Some of the spirits are old, m'lord," he said, dipping his head. "Sometimes they're shadowy memories of things long since slain, and they don't know in the depths of their soul what firearms are for. So when you shoot 'em, they don't know they're supposed to be dead, so they ain't."

Sergiy nodded his thanks. "It doesn't come up with most shadows, or even a tenth of them. But the few times it does happen is enough to discourage their use. Anyone else?"

Another former guardian who had heeded Lady Galina's call for aid lifted his vulpine snout from the floor. "Friendly fire."

"Exactly. We train and fight as a pack," Sergiy elaborated.

"This often means you're shooting near your packmates.

With swords and axes, a miss can be accounted for.

Harder to control a miss from a firearm in the thick of combat.

Shoot and hit, and sometimes your foe turns out to be ephemeral, or so fragile that a bullet pierces right through it, hitting friendlies beyond them.

Firearms are loud, and can alert other shadowlings to your location.

Ammunition is combustible, which you do not want to have around fire spirits.

They also do not play nicely with the shifter sizing enchantments, having so many moving and volatile parts.

"Having said all that, firearms have their place as a strategic asset for zone control, sniping, or as sidearms. But you'll still need a primary weapon."

Sergiy had them rise and follow him, and he pointed out a couple dozen different training weapons that were set out on the tables, ranging from cestuses to bo staves.

"Take a look and see if any of them suit your taste. Try them out, practice with dummies, practice with each other only if you have a qualified spotter."

Leaving them to the keen eyes of Yacob and Bridget, he strolled over to Bruin, who was kicking his feet playfully.

"Learning anything, my mate?"

"The firearms. I never thought to wonder why you don't use modern weapons."

Sergiy half-turned, watching as Lacy tried swinging a broadsword before shaking her head and moving on to other weapons.

"When they're effective against a spirit, they're effective," Sergiy said quietly.

"But maybe one in four opponents will be resistant, and between the firearm and spare ammo, that's a lot of dead weight to be carrying around.

But a big part of the reason we discourage them is safety.

We're shifters, and we heal fast. An accident with an axe might cost you or a friend a foot, but that's usually fixable with surgery.

An accidental discharge into someone's head or chest? Not so much."

Bruin nodded along.

"I'm going back over, stay as long as you'd like, maybe write down any questions? Now give me a kiss."

Grabbing his mate by his chin, he stole a relatively chaste kiss from his mate, then headed back over to supervise.

"A halberd! Good choice, if that's your selection. I know a certain panther who would greatly approve."

◆◆◆

Laying on the couch in his room, Sergiy held his arm out, allowing Bruin to work his magic.

"How did someone manage to land a blow on you?" his witch asked him distractedly, eyes closed as he focused on moving one of his hands up and down Sergiy's arm, a shimmering green crystal held in the other.

"Reckless abandon," Sergiy admitted. "Several of the new recruits wanted to try out the different swords, and we usually train them in twos and threes to develop proper pack tactics.

One of them swung widely and would have hit their teammate in the temple, so I stepped in, took the hit for myself. "

Laying atop his legs in his red-furred wolf form, Russ made a small growl, which Sergiy interpreted to mean that one, Sergiy had been quite silly for doing so, but also two, that he was proud of him.

With his good hand, Sergiy gave him an affectionate pat, which resulted in Russ climbing up higher on his chest, pushing his head up into his hand for firmer pets.

"All done!" Bruin said a moment later as he set aside his crystal. "So what now?"

For answer, Sergiy reached a hand up behind his mate's head, running his fingers through the short brown hair as he gave a slight pull. Bruin's broad jaw dropped as he smiled, letting Sergiy pull him closer.

Navigating around his boyfriend's tusks with practiced ease, Sergiy planted firm kisses on his plump lips, then forced his tongue inside. He heard Bruin grunt, pleased, and then put his hands on his chest.

Maintaining his insistent pull, Sergiy tried to adjust his position on the couch so that he could get all three of them together.

There was a bit of jostling as Russ tried to make room without scratching either of them with his claws, and Sergiy hesitated as he tried to hold on to both of his mates, at which point Bruin took the lead with a roll of his eyes.

He directed Russ to sit at one end of the cushiony black couch in his human form, pushed Sergiy into his arms, then laid himself down on Sergiy's chest.

"Better?" Bruin asked.

"Yes," Sergiy said, closing his eyes as he laid back into Russ. "This works."

He sighed, content. A rare chance to relax.

Now if only he could get his mind to quiet down.

With his eyes shut, Sergiy let his other senses come to the fore, hoping to distract himself.

His strong shifter sense of smell let him know that Russ smelled of wood and varnish, meaning he'd spent some time in the woodworking shop.

Bastion Keep had professionals they could hire, of course, but Russ could more than handle all the basic repairs.

And Bruin, his promised, smelled like plants and the woody scent of an orc. He'd long since swapped to a scentless soap, so nothing artificial was in the way.

More than that, though, Sergiy could feel his mate like a fire in his chest. After four months, the small kindling had grown into a large flame. Oddly enough, the roaring sound of it had quieted, becoming more like an active kiln than a bonfire, or a radiating sun.

Holding the source of that flame in his arms felt right, just as right as having Russ with him.

Sergiy managed about two minutes of relaxation before he started thinking about plans.

Bruin and the other witches were going to visit the Umbral in a few days.

He'd need protection. Would a whole pack be enough?

Or would a smaller number of guardians make more sense, so as not to draw too much attention?

Maybe he could reorganize patrols in order to personally be the one defending him…

"Ser," Russ said.

Sergiy realized he was starting to tense his shoulders, and he thought about relaxing them. Head to toe. His back felt especially tight around his wing prostheses, and he tried a visualization exercise to get them to unknot.

After another few minutes, just when Sergiy felt like he could almost take a nap where he was, there was a knocking at the door.