Page 18 of The Warrior Priest (After the Rift #1)

“He’s a trainer. All the best warriors are.

They train the younger and less skilled.

There’s Rufus and Andreas, too.” The three men guided their students, occasionally correcting their stance or a maneuver.

“They’ll join in the drills soon. The much older men you see at the edges are the keepers of the weapons, administrative staff, that sort of thing.

Mostly former warriors no longer able to fight. I can’t see Rhys yet.”

“He’s in the gallery with Master Tomaj,” I told her. Like us, Rhys was watching the sparring from a higher level. He stood on the covered walkway on the first floor, his hands resting on the balcony as he peered down. He and Master Tomaj seemed to be talking intently.

After a while, Rufus, Vizah and Andreas shed their shirts and joined in the sparring.

They formed groups, each group practicing with a different weapon, and one group used no weapons at all, just fists, feet and bodies.

There was no laughter or chatter. The only sounds were grunts, the clash of steel and iron, and the slap of flesh against flesh.

If I hadn’t known it was a practice session, I would have thought they intended to kill each other, except that the priest with the upper hand never followed through with the final, winning blow.

He’d help his partner up then they’d resume fighting.

“Enjoying yourself?” Giselle asked, winking at me. “Wait until they’ve worked up a sweat.”

It was impossible to deny that the men were an impressive sight with their broad chests and shoulders on display. “You could charge the women of Tilting an entry fee and make a fortune.”

Giselle laughed.

My gaze drifted back up to Rhys on the gallery. Master Tomaj suddenly grasped Rhys’s arm. He seemed in earnest as he said something. Whatever it was, Rhys didn’t like hearing it. He wouldn’t meet the master’s gaze until Tomaj shook Rhys’s arm.

Finally, Rhys lifted his chin in agreement. Master Tomaj embraced him, and Rhys returned it. Despite the height difference, the two men looked like father and son from a distance.

They parted and Rhys walked along the gallery before disappearing inside. Moments later he reappeared in the courtyard. He removed his shirt and collected a sword from one of the weapons keepers. Rhys adjusted his grip, testing the sword’s weight in his hand, before settling into a fighting stance.

It was as if it were an invitation for the others to attack him.

The group with swords went first, sometimes singly, other times teaming up to attack from different sides.

Rhys dispatched them all with minimal effort.

Swords were his preferred weapon, so Giselle told me.

When I thought he was cornered by four priests wielding halberds, he still escaped by running at a wall then using it to jump off and flip over his opponents.

I’d seen him use walls to his advantage before, but I didn’t know he could flip as well as a gymnast.

I couldn’t tear my gaze away. I’d felt Rhys’s strength before, but seeing his muscles flex beneath smooth skin and the ridges of his stomach tense, was new. The youths who swam in the river looked nothing like him. Their bodies had been nice to look at, but Rhys’s was fascinating. Tempting.

“Don’t forget to breathe, Jac.”

My face flushed, which made Giselle chuckle.

The priests not involved in the fight had stopped to watch, until Master Tomaj clapped his hands. He ordered the remaining priests from the other groups to take up swords then attack Rhys, Andreas, Rufus and Vizah.

It took some time for the four friends to prevail against almost thirty men, but they managed it by working together, using the confined space to their advantage against a larger number of opponents.

Through it all, Giselle and I remained silent. Once they’d finished, and the men were shaking hands as they caught their breath, Giselle sat with her back to the parapet, and stretched out her legs.

“Now you see why watching them spar is one of my favorite things to do when in Tilting,” she said.

“I’ve never seen them fight before,” I said. “Not like that. They’re incredible.”

“That’s why they’re allowed to do as they please, with no repercussions from the master. They can break all the vows they want and he’ll overlook it.”

“Others in the order don’t, so I hear.”

“True. But the master protects them, especially Rhys.”

“Does Rhys need protecting?”

Giselle shrugged. “Not so much anymore, apparently. I hear he’s quite the good priest these days. He’s changed.”

If only I had an ell for everyone who said that.

I continued to watch the men, not yet ready to stop even though they were dispersing now that training had ended.

At one point I thought Rhys must know we were there, as he suddenly looked around.

But then Andreas distracted him with a slap on the shoulder while Vizah threw a bucket of water at him.

Rhys chased him, grabbing a fresh bucket of water, but Vizah had a head start so Rhys dumped the water onto Andreas’s head instead.

Andreas threw his arms up as water streamed down his bare torso. “Why me?”

“You were his co-conspirator,” Rhys said.

Vizah bent over, laughing. Rhys and Andreas exchanged glances, then picked up a bucket each and worked together to corner Vizah and throw the water over him.

The other men laughed, even the master, still standing in the gallery above. Rufus was the only one who shook his head. “Children.”

Rhys, Vizah and Andreas turned to him, grinning.

Rufus quickly ducked into the garrison.

“Should we go?” I asked.

“Soon.” Giselle crossed her ankles. “The men will wash up and retreat to the dining room to eat. When they’re sitting down, the place will be almost empty. We’ll go then.”

“You know their routine.”

“It’s always the same.” She patted the stone floor beside her. “Sit, Jac. I have a question for you.”

I sat. “Go on.”

“Ever since you told me you followed me to that scum’s house, I’ve been wondering how I didn’t see or hear you.”

“I followed at a distance.”

She frowned. “Even so…”

“It’s why Rhys hires me. I’m quiet, discreet. Also, I have an excellent memory and can pick locks.”

Her frown deepened. “I didn’t take a direct route, and you must have been well back or I would have seen or heard you. How did you not lose me altogether?”

“I did lose you a few times, but I should admit that I overheard the tavern keeper give you the address.”

She narrowed her gaze. “You did?”

“I suppose since I knew where you were going, I instinctively knew which route you’d take and was able to pick up your trail again.”

“You ‘suppose?’”

I shrugged, not sure how to explain it.

“Huh. Well done. Tell me about this excellent memory of yours.”

“I can’t forget anything. Not a single word that I’ve heard or read, or any sights I’ve seen. As long as I’m concentrating at the time, that is. Distract me and I’m useless.”

Giselle continued to stare at me.

I cleared my throat. “Why did you kill the deputy governor? Is it because you heard he was a rapist?”

“And because someone paid me to kill him.”

“Who?”

She gave me an arch look. “Someone who also heard what he’d done and couldn’t see any other way to make him pay. The governor protects his own, the turd.” I was still mulling that over when she said, “Jac, I don’t know why you need to dress as a boy and I don’t care.”

For a moment I thought she knew my uncle was the governor and that I’d run away from him four years ago. But then she continued, and I realized the comments about him being a turd and the way I dressed weren’t connected.

“That’s your business. We all have our secrets. But I do question how long you can keep it up.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, a little affronted at her gall in asking. We hardly knew each other. “You’re right. It isn’t your business why I dress like this.” I shrugged. “Why do you ?”

“I’m not passing myself off as a boy, or man, or…” She waved her hand in the general direction of my chest. “Whatever this is. Everyone knows I’m a woman. I prefer to dress like a man because it makes it easier to do what they’re doing.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

“Fighting?”

She smiled.

“Like the men?”

“You seem skeptical.”

“You think you can match them?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never fought a warrior priest.” She watched me grapple with the notion before adding, “Physical strength isn’t everything in a fight, Jac. Did you notice Brother Aemon?”

“The wiry one?”

She nodded. “He’s smaller than all the other warrior priests, but he bested most of his opponents. He’s quick and agile, and he used their size against them. He’s also smart and observant.”

I recalled each move Brother Aemon had made while I watched his group practice with daggers. She was right. He had defeated almost everyone. Only Rufus stopped him when he joined in.

Giselle got to her feet but stayed low. “They’ll be eating now. We should go.”

I followed her back down the stairs then out through the side door into the street. She locked the door behind her and we walked together to the main road.

“You dress like that because you’re hiding from someone, aren’t you?” Giselle asked. “You want everyone to see just a boy, not the pretty girl. Or are you a woman? I admit it’s very hard to tell how old you are.”

“Old enough,” I said, wincing at how stupid it sounded. But I’d had to say something or she might guess from my silence that she was right.

“How do you see this playing out?” She indicated my body again, the padded middle and flattened breasts.

For the second time that day, someone was asking me my plans. Whereas Rufus was asking because he was concerned about me being a distraction for Rhys, I suspected Giselle’s intentions were different. “I don’t know,” I admitted.

When we reached the intersection, she held out her hand. I shook it, like a man’s. When she firmed her grip, I firmed mine. She smiled. “Goodbye, Jac. Good luck.”

Although I wanted to stay and watch her leave, she didn’t move, so I walked away first. When I reached the corner, I turned to see if she was still there, but she’d gone.

Mistress Lowey watched me taste her latest creation with all the patience of a child presented with a gift box. “Well? How is it? Too much spice?”

I savored the mouthful of eel and pastry mixed with a blend of spices that exploded on my tongue like fireworks.

I’d never tasted anything like it. “The borrodi and amani are just right, but you need to decrease the tumini. It overwhelms the others. Just by a little,” I reassured her when her face fell. “It’s almost perfect.”

“You’re right. I knew it before I gave it to you, so I don’t know why I expected you to say anything else.” She picked up the rest of the pie. “I’ll give this to the Finnigan boy. He eats anything.”

“Don’t waste it on him. I’ll finish it. It’s one of your best, Mistress Lowey,” I said gently. “After the minor change to the tumini, it’ll become your customers’ new favorite flavor.”

She clucked her tongue at me. “You’re a charmer, Jac. Now, you be sure to eat it all. You’re too skinny.”

“I think I’ll enjoy it down by the river.”

“It’s getting dark. Be careful.”

She wrapped the pie in a cloth and tied the ends together to make it easy to carry.

I pecked her cheek and headed out, but not toward the river.

One slice of pie had been enough to fill me.

I decided to give the remainder to Minnow, who would in turn feed it to a hungry soul who’d fallen on hard times.

With the whores still not released, some of their loved ones would be struggling without a regular income.

I hadn’t got very far when I heard a set of light footsteps. It wasn’t late and the road was quite busy, so it could simply be someone walking in the same direction as me. I tested it by making a turn then another and another.

The footsteps continued.

I ran, but only as far as the next corner. After I slipped around it, I sank into a recessed doorway. A figure passed by, clad in black with the hood up to obscure his face and hair.

No, not his face. Hers. The scent of orange blossom lingered in her wake.

I stepped out. “Why are you following me, Giselle?”

She whipped around, one leg out in a move smoother than any dancer could manage and hooked my leg with her foot.

I couldn’t keep my balance on the slippery cobblestones, and fell onto my hands and knees in a bone-jarring crunch.

Before I had a chance to recover, she grabbed my arm and shoved me onto my back.

She loomed above me, knife blade at my throat and a slick grin on her lips.

“Got you,” she sneered.