Page 11 of Witchcraft and Fury (Chronicles of the Divided Isle #1)

‘Oh, the Goldmonts and the Humbys have hated each other since time immemorial,’ Pingot replied.

‘His family have held the lands to the south of my own family’s duchy for a thousand years, and the wars between our ancestors often lasted decades.

Hating each other is in our blood. Of course, now that we are learning to be wizards together in a royal magic encampment we are meant to put those differences behind us, though it is easier said than done. ’

‘And Wyman?’

‘Wyman has no backbone and can’t think for himself. He’ll blindly follow Oswald, even if that means being cruel. He wasn’t joking when he said he’ll target me during sparring.’

‘But won’t Binns stop ’em?’

‘Fat chance. Binns is hardly my biggest fan either.’

‘Why’s that?’

Pingot raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you trying to make me feel bad, making me explain why no one likes me, or are you just being nosey?’

‘Sorry,’ said Solar hurriedly. ‘I wasn’t trying to, you know, be rude or anything.

I’m just curious. To be honest, I’ve been trying to work you lot out.

You’re all a bit’—she searched for the right words—‘different from me.’ She felt a dull, sinking sensation in her stomach.

Cal’s words from the night before were still raw.

‘Well,’ said Pingot, somewhat pacified, ‘Binns has tried for more than a month now to whip me into shape physically, but no matter what workout he sets it has no effect. Trust me, I wish I could get fitter too, but my body won’t cooperate.

And every time Binns sees me lag behind the others during training, I think he feels like it’s his failure as an instructor.

It makes him mad, and he takes it out on me. ’

‘You’re smarter than you look,’ Solar said, looking at him appraisingly. ‘You really get people.’

‘And I hope you’re tougher than you look. I have a feeling the others are going to give you just as hard a time. ’

As they reached the campfire Cal got to his feet, tearing the last shred of meat from a chicken leg and tossing the bone on the flames. He walked in Loveday’s direction to begin his own, more advanced lesson, barging into Solar as he passed.

I’ve got that feeling too , thought Solar, nursing her shoulder.

*

After lunch they had a period of rest. Then they trooped to the lake to learn combat skills under the unforgiving eye of Binns, who stood waiting for them on the grass before the beach with a pair of wooden sparring swords in his hands.

Cal also joined them, having finished his private class in advanced magic with Loveday.

The wizard had withdrawn to his tent for the afternoon, his head buried in a spell book.

Solar was comfortable in the protective clothing and armour that she had found in her tent: a leather jerkin, worn under a shirt of lightweight ring mail; leather boots and steel shin guards to offer protection to her legs; and a pair of leather gloves with dark stains that looked ominously like blood.

She had been worried that she would be weighed down by it all, but instead she found it to be light and unrestrictive.

She wondered where it had all come from, as well as the thick cloak and other garments that had been left to the side of her fur blankets. They fit her slight frame well. She considered asking Loveday, but her smuggler’s instinct told her it was best not to question good fortune.

‘You boys have tried your hands at archery, throwing knives and axes. With the exception of Cal, you’ve all shown yourselves to be woefully incompetent at each art.

If the safety of the realm one day rests in your hands, I’ll be taking the first ship to the continent,’ growled Binns in a voice that grated like gravel.

‘But now you have the opportunity to impress me with the sword, the noblest of weapons. You’ll be splitting off into pairs.

Oswald and Pingot on the right, Cal and Wyman in the centre, and Bear, you can go with the girl. ’

‘Why do I have to be paired with Cal?’ moaned Wyman sourly. ‘He’s the best fighter amongst us, and besides, he’s bigger and older than I am.’

Wyman seems to shy from anything even remotely challenging , Solar reflected, remembering his performance in the morning’s manipulation class.

‘And I can’t fight a girl,’ Bear protested. ‘It would be dishonourable!’

‘Oh, you and your honour, Bear. Do the Kingsleys think of nothing else?’ drawled Oswald. ‘You’re a good man, I’ll give you that, but in the most tiresome sense of the word. Beat the hag and have done with it.’

‘Enough!’ barked Binns. ‘Bear, Wyman, you’ll fight who I say and without question!’

‘I’ll fight the hag,’ said Cal, his voice low and dangerous.

Binns looked as if he would shout at Cal next, but then he gave an evil grin. ‘Fine. Bear, you go with Wyman. Cal, don’t go easy on her. Now get into position.’

‘Oh, I won’t go easy,’ said Cal, taking up his position opposite Solar and staring icily at her.

‘And I won’t go easy on you,’ promised Solar, returning his gaze.

She was rather pleased at how confident she sounded, but then realised she had no sword to fight with.

The other students usually wore fine swords that they had brought from home, their blades keen enough to split a hair.

Their guards, pommels and sheaths were studded with rubies and emeralds and boasted family crests and mottos in spiralling letters.

For the afternoon’s training session they had discarded these and equipped themselves instead with plain wooden swords.

Solar, however, had just her empty fists.

‘Sir Dirk, I er … I have no practice sword.’

Binns tossed her one of his wooden swords with a look of withering disdain. She caught it by the hilt.

‘Now,’ said Binns, ‘you’re wizards, not knights, and don’t you forget it.

If any of you cruds ever get employed by King Algar to do the work Loveday does, then you’ll be rovers like him.

You’ll cover huge distances each year, and the foes you’ll face will range from werewolves to vampires, spirits to dark magic practitioners.

They’ll fight dirty. They’ll fight to win. You must do the same.’

‘Oh, vampires , may the gods save us,’ drawled Oswald sarcastically.

‘I expect you’ll have learned the rudiments of swordplay in your family castles from an early age, with the exception of the girl,’ continued Binns, ignoring the interruption. ‘On my command, show me what you can do. Begin!’

Cal’s feet moved like those of a dancer, swift and weightless.

He almost caught Solar unprepared, his sword thrusting forward in a powerful, cunning attack.

But, to her surprise, Solar found that duelling was something she was naturally good at.

Her feet matched Cal’s step for step. She lost that bout, and many more, but she managed to parry nearly all of his blows in good time.

Her arms, though skinny, were strong from years of street fighting with boys twice her size.

The sword was not too heavy in her hands, although she could feel blisters forming.

‘You’ve used a blade before, girl?’ Binns asked brusquely, after Solar put up a particularly robust defence.

‘No. But I’ve made do with anything that’s come to hand, whenever trouble’s come my way. Sticks, poles, broomstick handles.’

The master-at-arms cast her a look of utter contempt, and, looking around, Solar saw the same expression mirrored on the faces of most of her peers.

Suit yourselves, lordlings , Solar thought, keeping her face deliberately blank. Sneer at anyone who’s actually had to look out for themselves.

As the session progressed, she began to close the distance between her and Cal as much as possible so as to better suit her shorter reach, putting Cal’s longer arms at a disadvantage.

Still he won, but Solar could see the astonishment in his eyes at the fight she put up.

They were far more closely matched than they should have been, he the stronger and with years of training behind him, and she wielding a blade for the first time.

No longer constantly on the back foot, Solar gained the headspace to think tactically during each bout; to consider feints and dives, the pacing of attacks and the swiftness of retreats.

Yet as she no longer relied purely on instinct and reflex, she also found herself more conscious of her adversary’s movements.

There was an undeniable beauty to his dancing steps.

The elegance of his defences. The savagery of his swordplay.

The way his muscles were surely rippling beneath his armour with every sword stroke.

And even as she parried blow after blow, whenever their duelling brought them close together her stomach performed a somersault that had nothing to do with fear.

He may be an ass , she decided, but at least he’s a good-looking one .

Her heart thudded when one particularly intense bout ended with his sword tip under her chin, tilting her face upwards so that she had no choice but to look him in his sapphire eyes.

Was it just her imagination, or did he hold her gaze a little longer than was necessary?

And had the slight flush on his cheeks appeared only at that moment of eye contact, or had it simply been brought about by exertion?

They were the most impressive pair. Wyman and Bear were evenly matched, and so wary of one another’s blades that they rarely got close enough to strike, merely circling each other.

Oswald beat Pingot ruthlessly, and no amount of coaching from Binns between bouts had any effect on Pingot’s performance.

Indeed, Binns’ ‘coaching’ consisted for the most part of scornful and cruel remarks.

In the final bout of the session Solar sensed that she was beginning to gain the upper hand. She pressed forwards, getting up close to Cal. He deflected her blows and retreated quickly.

Solar came at him again, scenting victory. She thrust wildly, putting all her weight behind the attack. Cal, light on his feet as ever, sidestepped. She lost her balance. He aimed a kick at her stomach and she was sent sprawling onto her back with a heavy thud.

‘You hags look ferocious, but you die easily enough,’ laughed Cal, walking towards her with his sword raised, poised to land the winning blow on her exposed chest. Solar reached behind her head and scooped up a fistful of sand from the small beach by the lake.

She flung it as hard as she could into Cal’s face.

He dropped his sword with a cry, bending over to rub frantically at his stinging eyes.

Solar leapt to her feet and rested her sword on the back of Cal’s neck.

‘Unfortunately for you, I’m a witch, not a hag,’ she said coldly .

‘Winning in that way is not ladylike!’ protested Bear from the periphery, pausing in his own duel.

Solar rounded on him furiously. ‘Well, it may interest you to know that I’m no lady, neither! I’m a carpenter’s daughter. If you’ve got a problem with that then now’s your chance to say it.’

Bear eyed the sword in her hands and decided it safer to say nothing.

‘That’s enough for one day,’ bellowed Binns. ‘Girl, you can do eight laps of the clearing for foul play.’

‘But you said we should fight dirty!’ Solar protested. She felt her blood boil at the injustice of it.

‘Aye, I did,’ said Binns with quiet vindictiveness. ‘But I make the rules round here, and choose when they apply and to who.’

Solar made to take off her ring mail in angry jerks, but Binns stopped her.

‘No, no, no. You won’t be needing to take that off, my lady ,’ he said with a sly grin, revealing his stained teeth. ‘It won’t weigh you down … much.’

Solar flung her sword to the ground savagely and set off on her run, almost bowling over Oswald and Wyman, who both stood laughing cruelly.

Loveday predicted that Binns might give me a hard time, just for being a girl , thought Solar resentfully as she ran.

But this is on another level. He’s as bad as Cal, and I’m powerless to stop it .

She made a conscious effort to banish all thoughts of Binns and her classmates: Binns’s hideous sneer, Oswald and Wyman’s stupid guffawing and Cal’s laughing, vindictive, beautiful face.

But the images were vivid and persistent. Especially those of Cal.