worked on skills with the third. The wooden swords Mott gave us were severely tested for durability as they clacked against each other, or, in a lucky moment, hit against an opponent’s arm, back, or leg.
Roden was merciless against me and brutal with Tobias. I did very well against Tobias, but Mott said he was disappointed in my performance against Roden.
“This is more than just learning swordplay,” Mott said. “You must learn it as Prince Jaron knew it. He challenged a king to a duel at the age of ten. What does that tell you about his attitude in battle?”
“That he was stupid,” I said flatly. “If the story’s true, he lost that duel.”
“It shows his bravery,” Roden said, ever eager to please. “And his training. He must have expected to win.”
I barked out a laugh. “If he did, add arrogance to his list of worthless traits. It’s too bad the prince we’re trying to become isn’t the older brother, Damon —”
“Darius,” Tobias corrected.
“Whatever. It sounds like he had a character worth imitating. Not Jaron.”
Mott stepped closer to me. “I find it interesting that you’d say that, Sage, considering you naturally have several character traits in common with Jaron.”
I was silent for a moment as emotions I didn’t understand filled me. What was it? Shame to acknowledge that Mott was correct? Was I as foolhardy as Jaron seemed to have been? Or was something telling me not to try for the crown? Perhaps in having fewer of Jaron’s character flaws, Roden or Tobias would make a better king.
Mott seemed to be waiting for me to say something, so without knowing whether I was correct or not, I shrugged and said, “Jaron was a child when he challenged that king to a duel. Perhaps he learned his lesson and would make wiser choices today.”
Mott frowned. “I never thought Jaron’s challenge was a sign of weakness. I’m sorry that you do. Now let’s continue.”
Mott paired me with Roden for another round while he worked with Tobias. I held my own until Roden got me backed into a corner. I lowered my sword to end the duel, but Roden took the opportunity to strike a hard blow at my chest.
I reeled backward, then dropped my sword and lunged at him. One solid punch from me would teach him a much-needed lesson about sportsmanship. Mott pulled me off of him and yelled, “Bad form, Roden! This is a practice, not a match. You should have stopped when Sage lowered his sword.”
“Sorry,” Roden mumbled. “I didn’t mean it. Just had a lot of energy.”
Mott turned to me. “And, Sage —”
“I won’t apologize,” I said, folding my arms.
Mott considered that a moment, then said, “No, I wouldn’t either. Shake hands, boys, then I’ll take you back.”
Roden offered me his hand and I reluctantly took it, but with a simple shake we both shrugged off the anger. While Roden replaced our swords, I watched as Mott brushed his fingers across the empty space where the imitation of Jaron’s sword had been. Mott clearly loved that sword. I couldn’t understand why.
Roden walked along beside me back to Farthenwood. “No hard feelings, I hope, about the way that match ended.”
“Do that to me again and I’ll kill you,” I said.
He smiled grimly, not sure whether it was a joke or not. I wasn’t sure either.
“It’s safe to tell me if you took the sword,” he said.
Not a bad way of changing the subject, so I played along. “A secret that is safe between you, me, and Master Conner,” I said with a wry sideward glance.
“It’s not an accusation,” Roden said, then lowered his voice. “It’s more likely that Tobias took it anyway.”
“Why’s that?”
Roden shook his head. “Don’t you know? You always seem to have everything figured out before any of the rest of us.”
I didn’t know, and I told him so.
“You know how bad he is with a sword. I was obviously the best out there, and you’re not great, but you’re better than he is.”
I smiled. “If
Roden was merciless against me and brutal with Tobias. I did very well against Tobias, but Mott said he was disappointed in my performance against Roden.
“This is more than just learning swordplay,” Mott said. “You must learn it as Prince Jaron knew it. He challenged a king to a duel at the age of ten. What does that tell you about his attitude in battle?”
“That he was stupid,” I said flatly. “If the story’s true, he lost that duel.”
“It shows his bravery,” Roden said, ever eager to please. “And his training. He must have expected to win.”
I barked out a laugh. “If he did, add arrogance to his list of worthless traits. It’s too bad the prince we’re trying to become isn’t the older brother, Damon —”
“Darius,” Tobias corrected.
“Whatever. It sounds like he had a character worth imitating. Not Jaron.”
Mott stepped closer to me. “I find it interesting that you’d say that, Sage, considering you naturally have several character traits in common with Jaron.”
I was silent for a moment as emotions I didn’t understand filled me. What was it? Shame to acknowledge that Mott was correct? Was I as foolhardy as Jaron seemed to have been? Or was something telling me not to try for the crown? Perhaps in having fewer of Jaron’s character flaws, Roden or Tobias would make a better king.
Mott seemed to be waiting for me to say something, so without knowing whether I was correct or not, I shrugged and said, “Jaron was a child when he challenged that king to a duel. Perhaps he learned his lesson and would make wiser choices today.”
Mott frowned. “I never thought Jaron’s challenge was a sign of weakness. I’m sorry that you do. Now let’s continue.”
Mott paired me with Roden for another round while he worked with Tobias. I held my own until Roden got me backed into a corner. I lowered my sword to end the duel, but Roden took the opportunity to strike a hard blow at my chest.
I reeled backward, then dropped my sword and lunged at him. One solid punch from me would teach him a much-needed lesson about sportsmanship. Mott pulled me off of him and yelled, “Bad form, Roden! This is a practice, not a match. You should have stopped when Sage lowered his sword.”
“Sorry,” Roden mumbled. “I didn’t mean it. Just had a lot of energy.”
Mott turned to me. “And, Sage —”
“I won’t apologize,” I said, folding my arms.
Mott considered that a moment, then said, “No, I wouldn’t either. Shake hands, boys, then I’ll take you back.”
Roden offered me his hand and I reluctantly took it, but with a simple shake we both shrugged off the anger. While Roden replaced our swords, I watched as Mott brushed his fingers across the empty space where the imitation of Jaron’s sword had been. Mott clearly loved that sword. I couldn’t understand why.
Roden walked along beside me back to Farthenwood. “No hard feelings, I hope, about the way that match ended.”
“Do that to me again and I’ll kill you,” I said.
He smiled grimly, not sure whether it was a joke or not. I wasn’t sure either.
“It’s safe to tell me if you took the sword,” he said.
Not a bad way of changing the subject, so I played along. “A secret that is safe between you, me, and Master Conner,” I said with a wry sideward glance.
“It’s not an accusation,” Roden said, then lowered his voice. “It’s more likely that Tobias took it anyway.”
“Why’s that?”
Roden shook his head. “Don’t you know? You always seem to have everything figured out before any of the rest of us.”
I didn’t know, and I told him so.
“You know how bad he is with a sword. I was obviously the best out there, and you’re not great, but you’re better than he is.”
I smiled. “If
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