Page 9 of Midnight Shadow

Mary raced off through the crowd toward the practice field. Bria turned to join her, but Garret grabbed her arm.

“Do you still sword fight with your grandfather?”

Bria nodded, but quickly hushed him, looking from side to side to see if anyone had heard. Her father would never approve, so she and her grandfather kept it a well-guarded secret. Garret wouldn’t have known except he’d followed her out of the castle one night long ago when the Dysens had been visiting. He’d discovered them fighting. She’d sworn him to secrecy.

“Have you beaten him yet?” Garret wondered.

Bria shook her head, a grimace of disappointment crossing her features.

“I’ve got a move guaranteed to disarm him. Are you interested?” Garret asked, a smile curving his lips.

“Am I!” Bria almost exploded with excitement.

“Meet me tomorrow morning in the field where you practice,” he whispered.

Bria nodded.

Two swords crossed under a slitted moon, their metal blades clanging as they collided. The moon shimmered in the cold steel, its reflection clear and bright.

“Come on, girl, you can do much better than that.” Harry watched Bria smile. She was beautiful. Who would have thought such a gangly girl would grow into such an elegant lady? Her long brown hair hung loosely in large curls about her shoulders; her lips were full and rose red, the blue of her eyes rivaled that of the sky -- eyes that right now stared at him with the heated blue of a fire’s core. She would indeed make a fine wife. It was just that defiant, determined streak she had to be wary of. Men wanted at least some semblance of subservience from their women.

The blades pushed hard against each other, then abruptly separated, the slender steel screeching as the weapons slid free of each other. Bria swung, but Harry backed away and her blade whistled through the empty air. She swung again, but this time Harry caught her swing and grabbed her wrist, bringing her in close so they were practically nose to nose.

“You’re angry because your father finally made the decision to find you a husband.” He pushed away from her and swung. “You’re fighting with your emotions today, not with reason.”

She ducked and spun away from him. “I am not,” she insisted, then countered with an arc to his head. He blocked her blow, knowing she was lying because of the intensity with which she fought.

It took all his concentration to match her move and block it. “It’s time, Bria. You should have been married long ago,” he said.

She was quick, much quicker than he was. And she was smart, despite her emotions warring to take control. He could see her mind working as she lunged. But experience won out, and he was still able to thwart her strike. He caught her sword with his and twisted his wrist. He had disarmed her more than once with that move. It worked again tonight. Her sword went sailing through the air.

Disappointment surged within him. Even though she was getting better and better each night they sparred, he was still disappointed in her lack of self-control. Yet, it was only a matter of time before she disarmed him. Then he’d have nothing further to teach her. That would be the biggest disappointment of all.

Bria cursed quietly and stomped after her sword. Before she could reach it, Harry put the tip of his sword to her neck. “Yield,” he ordered.

Again, she mumbled a curse. “I yield,” she added grudgingly, and moved to proceed past him.

He kept the sword to her neck. “Why were you disarmed?”

Her jaw worked as she clenched her teeth. “I was overanxious. I thought I had you that time. Just like all those other times.” She shoved the sword from her neck and marched past him to her weapon, yanking it from the ground. She swung it through the air, hacking the breeze assaulting her. “I’ll never get it.”

“You’ll get it,” he said, kindly. “You just have to learn patience. You want to win, but you’re not willing to wait for an opening.”

“You make your own openings,” she countered.

“When you’re good enough,” he agreed, approaching her, “and when you realize you’ll never be stronger than a man. You have to wait for an opening. You can’t fight aggressively. You have to fight defensively. Always.”

Bria rolled her large blue eyes. “I know, I know.”

“But you don’t know, or you wouldn’t be disarmed.”

She handed her sword to him. He took the handle of the weapon. “Don’t stay out too long. Your father is suspicious enough.”

“I know,” she murmured. She walked toward the thick forest just beyond the clearing where two horses were tethered to a tree.

Harry shook his head in admiration. She was already better than most men he knew, but he dared not tell her that.

Suddenly, she paused and turned to look at him. Her long, dark brown hair cascaded over her shoulder as she stared at him. “Thank you, Grandfather.”