Knight of Thieves

Chapter 6

The first day of training was, as Sir Wylan promised, the hardest day of their lives. It occurred to Will only then that he should have tried to make the most of the summer, should have spent more time training and less time with Benedick Torpe. He was glad to find he was not alone in this. All of them should have worked harder over the summer.

The morning itself was not terrible. Although, breakfast did start half an hour late because one of the first years did not take Sir Wylan seriously the night before.

Following that, lessons started with Lady Elizabeth, where she covered the Cyran language. It was astounding how much of the language Will forgot over the summer. In exasperation, Lady Elizabeth reviewed everything she taught them during their first year. The only one who really kept up with her was Emberly, who surpassed the need for learning the Cyran language and was now working on the language of Malidor, a language Will knew she much preferred.

“It would seem,” said Lady Elizabeth, “many of you have quite a bit of work ahead of you this year. It would behoove you to try and speak in Cyran as often as possible.”

Will was definitely going to need to beg Emberly to help him later.

Actual training after lunch was barely better. Will rarely worked on his swordsmanship, opting to enjoy his break away from training. Sir Wylan forced them all to spend the afternoon running until they threw up. He would not let them touch swords until they had run around the entire castle twice.

Will felt like he was going to pass out from sheer exhaustion.

But of course, in true Sir Wylan style, they had to start actual combat training. The previous year, they were told they would not fight with real swords until their second year. The first year was built around the idea that all squires needed to build up their strength and learn how to fight well before being given something other than a wooden sword. They still had a multitude of training sessions that would be conducted, which included lances, bows and arrows, spears, the like. Above all, the squires needed to know the basics of how to use a sword and brandish it effectively. Therefore, the majority of their first year training centered around preparing them for the more advanced weapons. Above all, the squires needed to know how to defend themselves. The second year built upon the knowledge that they acquired during their first year. The third year, as Will knew, was a time where the squires would choose a weapon to specialize in. Will knew he would choose the sword like his father had before him. But as this was still a year away, he was glad he was able to learn how to fight using other tools.

As they ran, Will distinctly noticed he was not the only one pained by the sudden change in their training. They all had red faces and looked as though they were going to pass out. The only ones who looked semi-normal were James and Arran, who both claimed they trained over the summer while the rest of the group apparently wasted their summer break.

At this time, Will also noticed the two second years who had not taken first year with them. They must have failed their Final Task, forcing them to retake the year.

Once everyone ran around the castle, Sir Wylan gathered them in the training yards. “Last year,” he began without preamble, “you were told you would not be fighting with real swords. Well, now you are. There are swords over there,” he gestured indistinctly towards the stables, “choose the one that feels most comfortable for now. You will be sparring like you did numerous times before. And, as always, I will be putting you into your groups. Anson you’ll be paired with Owell. Heczah and Lepore. Dern and Orsino.” And so he went down the list until he finished. “Get to it.”

“Yes, Sir Wylan,” they all chimed.

The swords, as Will knew, were not held anywhere near the stables. Why did Sir Wylan gesture in that direction at all? The squires ran around like chickens with their heads cut off until one of the stable boys explained where the training swords were actually held, in the amory, along with the polish and real swords.

Will led the way, the rest of the second years squawking about injustice the whole way. He and Emberly grabbed swords and retreated to the training fields, ready to fight one another. She seemed hesitant, biting her lip like she was usually when she was nervous about something. Truthfully, it did feel weird to be around her again.

But, as Will came to realize, it was a good weird. He was genuinely glad she was here.

They went through the motions Sir Wylan had taught them the previous year. High attack, high block. Center attack, center block. Low attack, low block. Then, they would switch between who was attacking and who was defending. Once they had done this, they would do it all over again.

The sword felt strange in Will’s hand, somewhat foreign. He had held swords, of course. His father had him learning about swordsmanship from a young age, but the sword itself felt heavy in his hands. It was unlike anything he had ever held before. It was different from the wooden sword in a thousand ways. With it came a responsibility he was not certain he was ready for.

“Do not bleed, Anson,” barked Sir Wylan’s raspy voice. “These are the only training uniforms you get. If you bleed on them, everyone will know for the entire year how much of a coward you are.” In the corner of his eye, Will saw Emberly roll her eyes at Sir Wylan’s words.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to move after this,” Will said to Emberly. She laughed a little.

“I agree,” she said, her voice sounding strange, almost as though she had a cold. “I should have trained over the summer.”

“I should have as well,” said Will. “Even Arran trained over the summer.”

“It seems he’s more serious than us.”

“Why does your voice sound so strange?” Will asked. “Are you feeling unwell?”

She shook her head.

“This is my Kyler voice.” He stared at her for a moment, nearly missing the attack she leveled at him. He was able to push it back at the last second, though. Thankfully, she had not put too much effort behind the blow.

He blinked at her. “That’s what your brother sounds like?”

She shrugged. “I might be off a little. I haven’t talked to him since the Winter Festival. And I haven’t needed to disguise my voice at all this summer.”

“You sound like you have a cold,” he said.

“Well, I think I’m okay with that as long as I sound like a man. Now, why does James want to kill me?” She held her sword up high to block his attack. He was afraid of coming down too hard on her strike, so he eased the pressure he had on his sword. She blocked it easily.

“He thinks Kyler’s proposed to Olivia.” Her jaw dropped, her mind separating from the task at hand. “Em.” He warned, his eyes flashing over to where Sir Wylan stood, the older man quickly noticing Emberly’s inability to focus. As though awakening from a dream, she blinked a few times and made an attack at Will, regardless of the fact that it was not her turn.

“Kyler proposed to Olivia?” Her “Kyler” voice disappeared for a moment as she contemplated the news.

“He said that Kyler and Olivia have been exchanging letters all summer. It is quite serious, I believe.”

“But why Olivia Heczah? Couldn’t he find someone who wasn’t annoying? Someone who actually wants to be a physician’s wife?” Will shrugged in response, blocking her attack. “I wrote to him all summer. He didn’t say a word about this.”

“Perhaps he knew you would respond like this.” She shot him a glare. Will could not stop the laugh which escaped from his lips.

“I…um…I-I got your letter,” she said, the nervousness returning to her. She could not meet his eyes.

“I thought you would have,” Will said, certain his cheeks were going red as well. Why did she need to bring it up like this? Why could they not just move on, never acknowledging what he had written in that letter?

She opened her mouth to say something, but Sir Wylan interrupted with a yell, “Orsino, Dern, cut the chit-chat and focus on your fighting.”

“The other groups are talking,” said Emberly, with petulance.

But neither of them breathed another word until dinner that night. And when they did speak, it was on light topics, like the weather or what they did over the summer. Neither of them spoke about the letter again. And when they went to sleep later that night, exhaustion echoing around them, they both fell into a dreamless unconsciousness.