“Your pardon, sir. I was only—”
“Reminding her to keep her guard up, by my hearing. Is that what you heard, Master Xarius?”
“More than once, sir,” he whispered, like a hissing reptile.
“Aye. More than once. Is your pupil deaf, Master Kylac?”
“Sir? No, sir.”
“Then it would seem a more stringent reminder is in order.”
“Sir—”
“Remind her.”
Kylac glanced at Brie, who was doing her best to control her breathing. “We were only playing.”
“In this arena? You know otherwise, Master Kylac. As does she. If you would train her on this floor, you will finish the lesson.”
“You have my apologies already. If I am to be punished—”
“Master Xarius, remind this new pupil of ours to keep her guard up.”
“Sir,” Xarius replied. He gave a crisp bow, then stepped forward, a slender shortsword coming to hand. Light from the high, open windows gleamed upon its steel surface.
Kylac felt Brie stiffen, pierced by a sudden panic. She dared not run, but knew as well as he that Xarius would maim her with no more thought than he might spend on the removal of a pebble from his boot. As Xarius advanced steadily on soundless feet, Kylac instinctively stepped in front of Brie, snatching the practice sword from her rigid grasp and thus arming himself with the pair of wooden blades.
“The fault lies with me,” he insisted. He twirled one sword and tossed the other, testing their balance and heft, before raising them in a defensive cross. “If any need reminder, it is I.”
Xarius scowled, the predatory glint in his eye dimming with uncertainty. He glanced back at Rohn.
Their headmaster only glared, saying nothing.
Xarius smiled, the cruelty in his eyes flaring. It was the only warning Kylac received before Xarius attacked, a second blade joining the first, whipping toward his face in a blinding flurry.
Kylac had anticipated nothing less. His own blades were already moving, turning the strikes aside with deft twists and precise angles. He could not harm Xarius with his training weapons, allowing the elder combatant to press him with impunity. Yet it also enabled Kylac to narrow his focus, to concentrate solely on defense.
Brie shied backward, retreating toward her bucket and sponge. Thankfully, Xarius made no move to follow her. And why would he? It wasn’t often he found himself with an advantage such as this against his only real rival. Kylac was not only the headmaster’s son, but roughly half Xarius’s age—salts in the wound as Kylac had taken to besting him regularly during their daily sessions. Given the chance to reassert himself and deliver a scar or two in lasting insult, the prideful Xarius would be determined to do just that.
Assuming he failed to simply take Kylac’s head or some piece of it in trophy.
The fury of the quicksilver strikes slashing and stabbing his way left Kylac little doubt as to Xarius’s preference. And by now it seemed clear he could rely on his father not to intervene. Kylac had staked this challenge. His father—his instructor—would let him live or die by it.
Thus far, his wooden swords were holding up well against the onslaught. Hewn of granitewood from the deep Kalmira, thickly lacquered and well polished with use, they were as strong as any oaken staff thrice their girth, able to withstand the lighter blades with which Xarius was most adept. Nonetheless, Kylac could feel the nicks and notches collecting along their length. Be it late or soon, his opponent’s fine steel would hack and carve them to splinters, and Kylac’s bones with them.
If he intended to end this in his favor, he needed to do so swiftly.
The lethal blades thrashed before him, a dicing whirlwind. Xarius was unquestionably a master—precise, poised…patient? Normally, yes. But as Kylac continued to weather the storm, he could sense in his adversary a gnawing frustration. He had expected a swift victory, in this instance. Denied that, and with his master looking on, Kylac could see in him the mounting need for a decisive victory—and the urgency that came with it.
So Kylac gave him the opening he sought, angling a wooden blade out carelessly wide, inviting Xarius to disarm him on that side. Xarius did so, and Kylac gave a startled yelp in feigned dismay as the practice weapon skittered away. A somewhat reckless maneuver, but also fairly obvious. He doubted Xarius would have taken the bait under normal circumstances.